Pictures Are Here With More Coming Soon

Well, Amy's mom made it safely to Uganda on Monday night (or, at least I am fairly certain that I saw her get off the plane as I waited to board it - she looked like she arrived safely), and I made it back to Chicago yesterday. Now that I am here I can finally some post pictures, although we will still hold off on posting pictures of Tommy until after our ruling is issued. We still have plenty of other photos to share to illustrate our many adventures in Uganda (or, at least our comings and goings during the first 2 weeks). Where appropriate I will add pictures to the older posts as I have already done with the Jinja post. I hope to get the rest done soon.

Jinja

On Tuesday we had a free day, so we took a day trip to Jinja so Tommy could see his first river- the Nile. Most people associate the Nile with Egypt, but it originates from Lake Victoria in Uganda.

Without traffic Jinja is a short drive from Kampala. It took us a little over two hours to get there. The road passes through the largest forest in Uganda (name is escaping me right now), and passed tea and sugar cane plantations. It is a very scenic drive, and we enjoyed seeing more of Uganda's diverse terrain.

A tea plantation on the road to Jinja

There are two sides to Jinja. We first went to the source of the Nile. We took a short boat tour to the spot where Lake Victoria ends and the Nile begins. We got to dip our fingers in both bodies of water. The boat was an experience in itself, because it was the sort where you have to balance out where everyone is sitting in order to be safe and remain upright, and there weren't any flotation devices aboard!

It seemed safe enough at the time

The marker for the source

To my left, The Nile River. To my right, Lake Victoria

After we finished the tour we told our driver it was time for lunch and he took us to Gately on the Nile. It was great to have some good "western" food, and we had an awesome dessert of deep fried mini-bananas with ice cream. So good. We also tried our first "Stoney" (ginger soda). Man, that is good stuff. It has quite a kick.

Stoney Tangawizi

Then we went to Bujagali Falls, on the other side of Jinja. The falls are not tall, but they are very beautiful. We took lots of pictures. At first the falls were not crowded, but then a tour bus showed up with a crowd of people. Then some men began to ride over the falls using square plastic water jugs to stay afloat in exchange for money from the tourists, and there were some other strange "tourist attractions" that made us very uncomfortable, so we left.

Bujagali Falls

If you are adopting from (or just visiting) Uganda absolutely make time for taking a trip to Jinja. It was a really nice break from court appointments and paperwork.

Mum

Yesterday the wife of the man who runs our guest house stopped by. She came up to Tommy and put out her arms. He looked at her, looked up at me, and lunged towards me with a scared look on his face. He recognized that she was a stranger and that I would protect him. This was the first time he has rejected a black woman for me. When we first got here he was willing to come to me, but he prefered women who resemebled his previous caregivers- and everyone here looks more like Sister and the Aunties at the babies home than I do.

We are so excited that he is starting to choose us, and to recognize that we will take care of him. Of couse he has no idea what it means to have parents or to be part of a family, but it is a huge step for him to understand that we are responsible for caring for him and that we will keep him safe.

He has started to call me "mum." Only occasionally, and usually when he is bored with Jeff (or angry about not getting his way), but he will stretch out his arms towards me and say "mum." Super cute.

Pizza Delivery

I woke up this morning craving pizza.

There have been a few things that I really miss (my microwave is at the top of the list), but I haven't missed American food that much- until today.

We have been eating plenty of somewhat American food. If we are in the city all day we eat there (with traffic and the cost of gas it is not worth it to go back to the guest house), so we made a trip to Ranchers in the Garden City Mall for burgers (not worth it- they tasted like meatloaf), we had an excellent lunch at Gately on the Nile in Jinja, and we had decent chicken sandwiches at Chicken Inn, although they double charged us for soda and refused to correct it. Mzungu prices are lame. And Top Up is not ketchup, or anything even close. Also I have been cooking what I can with the ingredients and utensils that I have access to. I have made a passable casserole, chicken and potatoes, soft tacos, quesadillas, and macaroni and cheese (Kraft from home). Lately I have been practicing my Ugandan cooking, so we have been eating matooke, posho, and bean sauce. But no pizza.

At home we have a bread machine and a pizza stone so we have pizza quite often. Here I don't have anything that remotely resembles either of those two things, and I am not about to attempt pizza in a stove with no temperature gauge. So this morning when I woke up longing for pizza I figured my case was hopeless.

In the early afternoon we approached Alfred about our dilemma. We knew there was pizza in Kampala, but our car/driver were in a minor accident yesterday, so we are without our usual wheels until Tuesday. I have no desire to get into an African taxi, and even less desire to take my baby in one. Multiply that times one hundred for my feelings about riding a boda boda (motorcycle transport- no helmets).

We first asked Alfred if there were any restaurants serving Mzungu food within walking distance. No such luck.

Then we asked if there was any way that we could have some delivered, specifically pizza. He said maybe, but he would have to call and ask. It had happened before, and he still had the phone number of the delivery guy. He told us he would call when we wanted the food and find out if it was possible.

I waited and waited. I was hungry at four. But Ugandans eat late, and they think we are crazy for eating at six, so I decided I would wait until at least five. At maybe one minute passed five I asked Alfred to make the phone call. He did, and told us we could get pizza!

We had some things to sort out about how we would order (the directions were lost in translation), but finally we got our order in: one Hawaiian and one pepperoni.
The pizza arrived at about six. It was the best thing ever. I ate half of a large pizza (in my defense their "large" is maybe an American medium). I am totally having cold pizza for breakfast tomorrow.

I have at least three, probably four, hopefully not five, weeks left here. I have a feeling that pizza delivery guy is going to be hearing from me again.

Figuring Tommy Out

We still don't fully understand the little guy's cues, partly because we don't know him well enough, and partly because kids in orphanages loose their ability to signal their needs because their needs are never met on demand. However, we are learning some of his likes and dislikes, and it has been very fun to get to know more about him. Food is hard for us because his diet is limited now due to the Giardia, and because we have to be careful of his food insecurities while mindful that it is hard for him to know when he is full and to stop eating.

Likes: fried or scrambled eggs, rice, bread soaked in milk (water now because the Dr. has him off milk), yogurt, carrots, pineapple, papaya, bananas, green peppers, oatmeal, potatoes, apple juice. Loves: posho and beans, Krest Bitter Lemon (Sister gave it to him, and who was I to say no to a nun?) Dislikes: mango juice, greens, passion fruit juice, cheese crackers, granola bars, potato chips, Cheerios.

His favorite toy right now is an empty water bottle, second is any cell phone (he likes to put a cell phone up to his ear and say hello), but he is also enthralled with mirrors, enjoys bubbles, his beach ball, his lion, anything he can throw, and flip flops (he puts them on his hands and crawls around with them). He is a fast crawler, and has been working really hard on walking. He is getting much better at standing without support, and loves walking while holding onto furniture or our hands.

He has just figured out how to use a pacifier, sort of. This is a really good thing because he currently sucks his fingers for comfort, and this has caused him to develop a fungal infection on his hand. He is otherwise doing well, the Giardia is under control, we hope, and he passed his visa medical exam with no problems.

He wiggles like crazy, and likes to get his way. Jeff overheard one of the Sisters at the orphanage tell Sister Christine that she was "raising a stubborn boy" because she indulged him so much. At some point he is going to realize that his situation has changed for good, and we think that will be very hard on him, because he really loves her.

Sunday Morning

Wow. Church is very different here. On Sunday morning we attended Ggaba Community Church. It is a very large church with an attached school and mission center, called African Renewal Ministries. It was about a thirty minute walk from our guest house. Alfred led us on the walk, and we even took the short cut, along the dirt paths instead of the main street. Lining those paths are the smaller houses, some made well, but others cobbled together from sheet metal and wood. Interspersed between these are compounds, some with enormous and beautiful homes. It is a very odd juxtaposition to see such poverty and such wealth side by side. The paths are very rutted from where the rain washes down the hills, and there are lots of rocks and trash to dodge, so you have to be very careful. It was tricky to navigate them carrying Tommy on my back. As you walk through there are many little children playing, and many yell out for you to say hello, or wave, or tell them how you are. Some run up to you and grab your hands and walk with you for a while. They are especially attracted to Jeff. In church the children ran up to him as well, and they all wanted to touch his hair, and to know Tommy's name, and hold him. Even the littlest kids here will pick up other little kids and cart them around. A girl who was four, maybe five, grabbed Tommy out of Jeff's lap during the service. We were caught off guard, and so was he, but he was pretty patient about it. Then the little girl and her friend sat with us for the end of the service. They were very friendly and sweet.

The service was very different for us. We grew up in the Presbyterian Church, and although we attend contemporary or blended services, we still fit the "frozen chosen" stereotype fairly well. There is nothing held back here. The Sunday School teacher was very direct, and as he taught he addressed some of the social issues they have here and told people very bluntly what they ought and not ought to do. The music was incredible. Everyone sang and danced and it was very loud. And when I say danced, I don’t mean that they swayed side to side while clapping their hands. They were actually dancing. The service included an infant dedication, and an engagement ceremony. It was really amazing to see both, and we were really impressed with how they perform engagements here. We, of course, had no idea what was going on when it started. Music began to play, and all of a sudden people began rushing down one side of the church. They lined up on one half of the stage area. One of them was holding a basket of flowers. Then another group of people came down the other side, and stood on the stage. Then the couple was introduced and they spoke about their love for each other and God, exchanged gifts, then rings, and announced the date of their wedding. Marriage in the context of the church is very important here, as many people chose to have common-law marriages (married without a ring) instead of marrying in the church. I thought that having the engagement in the church was really special, as it solidly places the marriage relationship within the church community and emphasizes the importance of the couple's relationship with Christ to their relationship with each other. Then there was more singing, and a sermon by a visiting evangelist from the US. The church had sponsored a week-long crusade for students that culminated in a "Jesus Festival" last night. The entire experience lasted about three hours. It was a lot of action crammed into a little time, and we really enjoyed it.

One thing that is really noticeable in church is how nicely Ugandans dress. Eddie, who has been teaching us about Ugandan culture as he drives, informed us yesterday that dressing "smart" is very important. This is obvious on the street as well, but it really stands out in church. People wear all kinds of different outfits, from traditional African clothing, to formal dresses (think prom, but more modest than in the US), to blouses and skirts. Everyone is always dressed very nicely, and everything they wear looks pressed (it probably is). Even walking through the dirt paths almost everyone is dressed quite well. Occasionally a child will be wearing something that is dirty. Everywhere you look you see clothing drying on the line, which explains why everyone always looks so clean. Jeff and I (who are generally very casual dressers) look so shabby in comparison. I think we embarrassed Alfred today at church because there were slobber marks on Tommy's baby carrier. He told us we had to wash it when we got home. His comment this evening when I told him I did not want to iron all of Tommy's clothes as per his suggestion/insistence, but that I was worried he would think we looked bad:

Amy: "In America I can be wrinkled."
Alfred: "When we look at you we don't think you look bad because we know it is your culture."

I laughed and told him that comment was going on the blog.

After all these years of graduate school most of our clothes just aren't very nice, and we didn't want to bring the ones that are nice because we knew we would be hand washing them and hanging them on lines. Cultural differences limited what we could bring anyway. The point is, with the exception of the court outfits we left our best things at home. So, we are basically the worst dressed people in all of Kampala. I am really thankful that we decided to wear one of our court outfits to church, or we would have really stood out. But at least everyone would have forgiven us, because 1) we were in church and 2) being poorly dressed is apparently a hallmark of American culture.

Third Time's A Charm, We Hope

So we had our second hearing on Wednesday morning. We got ready, made it to the High Court with an hour to spare, waited around with some other adopting families, and at nine, went over to our Judge's hallway. There were many people there, and our lawyer informed us that it would be a while, because he was a junior lawyer and the Judge saw clients in order of their lawyer's seniority. So we waited, and waited, and waited. After about an hour it became clear that something was wrong.

It turned out that the Judge had called our names sooner than expected, and our lawyer was no where to be found. The Judge became very angry and cancelled our hearings completely.

We found out that our lawyer had two appointments that day at the same time, and because our Judge looked busy he went to see the other Judge he had an appointment with, believing he would make it back in time to see our Judge. Because the Judge he was seeing was the junior of the two, it was very offensive to our Judge when he found out.

When all of this was explained to us we were very upset. We spent the morning begging God for mercy and for him to soften the Judge's heart towards us. We also had to sit outside his chambers so he would see our commitment to this adoption and feel bad for us. The judge was very merciful to us, in that when he cancelled our hearings he did not adjourn them to a later date, leaving the door open for an apology and a rescheduling. Our lawyer had to write a formal apology letter and send it to the judge. A little after 12 all of this was accomplished. The Judge accepted Isaac's apology. The clerk who acted as the mediator's words to Isaac were "You all must have prayed hard this morning, because he has agreed to see you tomorrow at ten."

We immediately drove to the embassy to work on Jeff's paperwork. He had to sign some visa documents before he could leave. When we got there we realized we had forgotten our tax returns, and so he wouldn't be able to fill out everything. The consular was closing at 2, so we didn't have time to go back and return. We sat in the little cubicle waiting to meet with the vice-consular for about half and hour. Finally, one of the secretaries came out and said that she was double booked, and could we come back in about an hour? YES! That was just enough time for us to run back to the guest house, grab our paperwork, change, and eat some lunch. We made it back for our appointment just in time for our appointment, and Jeff finished filling out all of the paperwork he needed to take care of.

On Thursday we went back to the high court for our hearing. This time we got to see the Judge. It was very intimidating, just as it was the first time, but this time he accepted our paperwork and announced that he would have his ruling on July 22^nd. Both Isaac and Sister Christine think it went very well and are expecting a favorable ruling. We hope they are right. Please continue to cover this process in prayer.

Jeff will be leaving soon, and my Mom will be arriving. Jeff will not be here for the ruling. He does not want to leave, but he can't stay away from work any longer. When he leaves I will no longer have a computer, but Jeff will have easy internet access and a phone card, so he will be posting updates more frequently. We hope that we will have a favorable ruling on the 22^nd, and as soon as we have that we can post pictures.

On a side note, there is a sticky situation that we are dealing with here that has to do with some cultural differences. We really need your prayers for our wisdom and discernment. We need to avoid offending certain people key to our adoption process, but two things have been asked of us that we feel uncomfortable with, and it is hard to stand firm when so much is at stake.