We just returned from a re-stocking trip in Kampala last week. On the way home, we passed through Mubende, a town about halfway between Kampala & Fort Portal that has become our routine potty stop with the girls. While out stretching our legs, I was reminded of an article I read recently that detailed the tragedy of a 13-year old girl (in Mubende, of all places!) who had to have a complete hysterectomy after being sexually abused by a teacher and contracting a serious infection. Getting back in the car, we turned a Disney movie on for the girls and continued along our beautiful drive back home. It wasn't long,, though before we saw two mangled cars in the distance. As we grew nearer, you could see a mother and child still in one car (apparently unharmed), a crowd of people, and a woman lying on the grass nearby. We slowed down, trying to assess if we needed to stop, and saw someone pull a blanket over the woman lying on the ground. She was dead. I felt like I was in one of those crime scene dramas where they arrive on scene just in time to cover the deceased with a white sheet. It was really surreal. We continued on, not really saying much. I mean, what do you say?
Sometimes it's just easier to accept the scenario and move to the next one.
Thankfully, the next one was a delightful little lunch break in Fort Portal, where we got to visit with friends, and pick up TEN much-awaited packages for our team that had never quite made it on to Bundibugyo. This really added excitement to the last leg of our trip, being the bearer of Christmas gifts, and anticipating what was in ours! And then, out of the blue, there was a boda on the side of the road and it's driver laying lifeless in the middle of the road. The image of this man's mangled body, his spine shaped completely in a U, will forever stay imprinted in my mind. This time we did pull over, since there was not a large crowd, and apparently the accident had just happened. While I was trying to keep my stomach down in the front seat (thankfully the girls were still occupied with their movie), Derek went to get the story and see if we could help in any way. Supposedly, it was a hit-n-run (because that's what you do in this culture- if you hit someone, you RUN!) by a police car. A second person on the boda had also been injured, but had already been taken to receive help. And, so we continued on, silently grieving and just trying to get home. And so I confess:
Sometimes, I feel assaulted by tragedy.
We witness it everyday because it is just a part of life here, but somehow I am still never prepared for it.
And then there is our own suffering we have endured since being here. For me personally, this has come most tangibly through multiple illnesses. If you knew me well in the US, you would know that I struggled with allergies, but that I was rarely sick. Here, I have quit counting the number of times I've been ill or the number of nights one of us has slept next to the toilet. Again, it's just part of living in here. However, I've found that it is harder to "move on to the next thing" as we sometimes do with tragedy, because some illnesses leave you with a limp when they decide to leave (like the one that has left me with chronic joint pain that has taken 4 months to finally feel almost fully recovered). But it's not just the physical side. There is an emotional suffering- my husband has to sit with people day after day on our front stoop, listening and praying with people who are in far worse situations than we are in, but not being able to do anything to solve their problems. Many days, this task leaves you feeling completely defeated and at a loss with knowing how to best help people here. He has started helping Dr. Jessica at the health clinic, which I think is a good outlet for him, but even that can be overwhelming. Malnourished children, some who already have the "gaze of death" on their faces, babies who have endured ritualistic practices such as cutting their gums or blood-letting from other parts of their body. Urine, feces, body odor, insects, sometimes rodents, accompanied by stale hot air with the occasional cool breeze. It's all a part of life at the Nyahuka Health Center.
...ok, so I'm stopping here because we have a commitment we need to be at in the next few minutes. I will continue with Part Two (and maybe some pictures), hopefully soon...
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