Counting Up

Some moments of beauty, unexpected and undeserved, this week, all the more sweet as they stand in contrast to the rest of life.  There is wisdom in the admonition to count our blessings, it is a way of balancing reality, of turning from a short-circuited drained out electrical system plunging us into darkness, away from a girl Julia’s age with a brain abscess gasping out her last breaths, away from 35 patients on a ward built for 23, away from the terrible tally of 12 deaths in 14 days.  Counting up, forcing a balance in awareness.  So let me start with 7, a Biblical number of completeness . . . .Watch out, this will be LONG, because a lot happens in a week.

Number 7 ---Students.  Today the CSB girls’ football (soccer) team challenged the teachers and missionaries to a match.  Only the school secretary (none of the seven female teachers) was willing to risk the humiliation of playing full field in broad daylight on a market day, so we recruited a few of the older non-team student girls to get our requisite 11-woman team.  We missionaries lost 1 to 0, not bad for our racing hearts and sluggish feet.  I really enjoyed being out on the field with girls from my old cell group, and others I had played with often over the years, laughing and running.  Also a boost to see Julia and Acacia on the student team, pulled into the group.  I was reminded of how much I like the spunkiness and energy of these girls.  Also this week we received one of the most mature and thoughtful letters ever from one of our students, just talking about what was happening in his heart.  An encouraging reminder that boys grow up, that they mature, that the Spirit is at work.

Number  6---Ebola-free, still.  The child whose death raised concerns week before last did not have Ebola or Marburg, all his tests were negative.  This is particularly great news in view of the death this past week of a Dutch tourist who contracted Marburg while visiting caves in the Queen Elizabeth National Park where we just went camping.  I never quite saw the tourist appeal in the advertised “bat-cave” hike . . . But I suspect it has now dropped off all itineraries.  So our relief is tempered by sadness for this woman and her family.  Yet maybe her death will be a clue that unravels the mystery of the reservoir . . .

Number  5---Once a team mate, always a team mate.  Larissa is back, using her holiday in her master’s program in midwifery to plunge back into Bundibugyo health care (or lack thereof).  We are also hosting Scotticus’ fiancee Jane this week, a person we only knew last year in her letters and interesting return addresses as a woman of humor and generosity, and who has now materialized as his bride-to-be.  On Wednesday the Pierces hosted a mock “Introductions” ceremony as a way for us as a team, and a few of Scotticus’ Ugandan friends, to commemorate the marriage.  We will miss his ceremony in August, as well as Becky Carr’s (former teacher) this coming week.  But the return of our friends solidifies the assurance that once we serve here together, the bonds never break.

Number 4 ---Resilient Grandmothers.  Our motherless baby program is designed to rescue babies who would starve for lack of nutritional alternative when their mother dies:  we give a month’s worth of milk while the family organizes a surrogate breast feeder.  We believe in promoting breast feeding, . . .and usually it works.  But over the last two months we’ve had one persistent old lady who has tried and failed to relactate, perhaps because she’s technically a great-grandmother, and comes back every week asking for more boxed milk.  And every week I try to draw a hard line, try to stick to policy, but end up giving seven more days worth with a stern admonition to bring another family member.  Finally she brought a grandson, a brother of the tiny baby’s dead father, and he listened to our program and decided his wife (a young woman with a 1 year old child) could take the baby in.  But then when all this was translated to the grandmother, she shook her head.  She was holding that baby tight, and not about to let go.  Clearly she did not trust her grand-daughter-in-law to care for this child, and clearly she had closely bonded with the tiny remnant of her dead grandson and his wife.  She begged us to give her medicine that would make her milk come.  Pat and I looked at each other.  Should we stick with our rules, which we have set for good reasons?  Or should we throw them out the window and say, what is the cost of a few more months of milk compared to the risk of a broken heart?  We decided the bond between this woman and child was more important than our policies.  We gave more milk.

Number  3---Goats.  They are a bit smelly, stubborn, flighty, small-brained and strong-willed, tugging at their ropes and friskily kicking.  But these bundles of fur mean life for the baby mentioned above, and for many others.  The Matiti project dairy goats, the second wave of animals purchased by the Christmas Ornaments, arrived his week.  They were joined by a dozen or so males which the mission farm in Masaka decided to donate due to the escalating costs of animal feed for them, and their interest in the project after their visit with Karen in May.  So once again we as a mission had the privilege of a goat party, a day where the HIV-infected and bereaved turn their mourning into dancing, or at least a brisk goat-chasing trot, as they hear and see God’s love for their family in a gospel message, enjoy lunch together, and then receive a milk-producing goat.

Number  2---Peanut Butter (and collaboration).  I was raised on it, and now it turns out that ground peanuts mixed with milk, oil, sugar and vitamins, a thick sweet paste called Plumpynut, has become an increasingly accepted form of treating malnutrition.  Problem is, it is a bit expensive to access the commercially prepared product.  So Stephanie came up with the BBB (Lubwisi acronym for good food) program using hand-grinders, locally grown ground nuts, soy beans, and moringa leaves, the vitamin-rich leaves of a common tree.  We have now enrolled four cycles of 25 kids each at two outpatient smaller health centers, where moderately malnourished kids come weekly for a couple of months for growth monitoring, education, and this food supplement.  Part of being a responsible missionary is doing responsible science.  So for the last month, Scott Ickes has been interviewing caretakers, health center workers, observing food preparation in the homes, and generally applying his skills to evaluate the program.  Yesterday he presented his preliminary findings. The program is popular and helpful, kids are gaining weight, but we can do better.  He discovered that most families to not use the paste as a ready-to-eat food, but dilute it with water as they cook it again in a sauce.  This means the targeted child gets fewer of the calories.  I think the most interesting part of the presentation was that he invited the handful of Ugandans we work with, two college-students on break, one recent grad, and the two agricultural extension officers.  While we were aspiring to approximate the international standard of Plumpynut, they pushed us back to stick with a food composed of all local ingredients.  As we brainstormed we used information from two of our nurses as well, and have a new way to try to deliver the product and teach moms to use it, that may give better results.  It was an afternoon of collaboration, of the kind of synergy that academics, missionaries, university students, and community members can generate.

Number 1---You.  Anyone who read this far clearly cares about us, about Bundibugyo, about justice and healing and the Kingdom coming.  I am thankful for the wonder of reflecting on life in words, so that others can be drawn to pray and consider a different reality, the intangibles and the distant truths.  A college friend this week offered to raise money for nutrition, another friend from that era (the 1980’s!) connected us with a potential source of medical supplies.  We are grateful to be one small voice for your compassionate ears.