Shepherd's Love

18 September 2011

So, it’s our last night in Rome.  I’m ready to be home, but not ready to GO home.  I have loved it here so much!  I just wish we could stay a little longer.  I love the neighborhood our apartment is in.  We can walk out the front door and see the coliseum down the street.  Several times every day we are treated to church bells ringing.  There are so many little shops within easy walking distance – fruit shops, cheese and meat shops, coffee shops.  There weird little jewelry and art shops, clothing shops, neighborhood grocery stores, pizza places and gelato places.  There is the fountain down the street where so many people just hang out at night, talking, drinking beer, singing.  I can hear kids talking on their way to school, young people hanging out at the pizza place right under our apartment at night.  We have thought nothing of walking miles to see things like the Tiber River, the Spanish Stairs, the Coliseum & Roman Forum, the Pantheon.  We walked miles to go to church, we walked miles just wandering around seeing the sights.  There are 2000 year old ruins everywhere, right next to modern banks and churches built in the middle ages.  There are women wearing 6 inch heels and short skirts riding their scooters to work and cars that look like giant roller skates on the streets with tour buses and larger cars.  You can hear many different languages and see all kinds of people.  There are lots of dogs, everyone seems to have them.  We went to a restaurant one night that had seats outside in the garden and there were some rather well fed looking cats walking along the walls of the garden.  I have seen very few insects.  The weather has been fabulous, sunny every day but a little breezy.  The public transportation has been wonderful when we used it.  The trains ran on time, the buses were very inexpensive and easily accessible.  The prices of other things are outrageous, and there are a lot of street vendors that can be pretty pushy but you just have to be firm with your “no.”  There are street entertainers all over the place too.  I have always had a problem with people “entertaining” me without me asking them to, and then standing there expecting me to pay them.  But it’s all just a part of this and other big cities.  It happens in San Francisco and New York too.  The beach in Anzio was so nice, we actually thought of going back there one more time, but we never did.  We actually didn’t do a few of the things we had wanted to like going to Siena and Florence.  But we had such a good time just BEING here, walking around, looking at stuff.  Ostia Antica was a real highlight for me, and Venice was just plain relaxing.  People have all been really nice, like the old lady on the bus the other day who made very sure we got off where we needed to after I asked her for directions.  I will miss this place so much!  But I will miss Kabale too, and I have missed home.  I guess I just get to feeling at home almost anywhere, and feel so blessed that God has seen fit to let us have so many wonderful experiences.  And it is time to get home, be with our kids and grandkids and friends, and get back to work making sure we have the funds to keep our 23 other kids loved and fed and sheltered and educated in Twinomujuni Orphanage.  (I have been thinking I wish we could think of some other name other than “orphanage,” like Children’s Home or something.  Any suggestions?   I guess I should get to sleep.  The taxi will be here at 09:00 to take us to the airport.  Next stop, America the Beautiful.  

16 September 2011

Yesterday I was in the shower shampooing my hair and I remembered the last time I was in Italy.  We had been warned about Italian worker strikes.  I was with my daughter, Shana, at the time.  We were sharing a hotel room with one other girl.  Shana has never been a “morning person,” so I got up, took my shower, the other girl took her shower, and then Shana got up.  She got in the shower, got her hair all lathered up with shampoo and – the water workers went on strike.  My daughter inherited her sweet, patient temperament from me.  The words and sounds coming from that shower were – well – not exactly sweet and patient.  The memory made me smile but also hurry to wash the shampoo out of my hair.

Last night we went up on the rooftop of the building.  The building is at least five stories high.  It was pretty fascinating up there.  First, we had to climb five flights of stairs inside the building, go out a door at the top, and then climb another flight of fire-escape type steps (actual steps though, not the ladder kind).  The railing around the rooftop is not exactly tall enough to inspire feelings of absolutely safety for me.  But it was interesting to see that almost every building has a rooftop patio of some type.  The rooftops are not wasted here!  It was fun looking down at the neighborhood fountain, a gathering place for the college-age people.  There was a girl playing her guitar and singing.  It really brought back memories of the sixties when I used to be the young person gathered with friends in the park, singing, visiting, playing the guitar, smoking funny cigarettes etc.

Today, we decided to go to Ostia Antica, the ruins of a Roman port city.  It is advertised as being just as good as Pompeii but not as crowded and only a half hour from Rome.  We looked it up on the Internet last night and found a place that advertised a boat cruise down the Tiber to Ostia.  I called the number on the web site, got a live person who assured me there would be a boat leaving from Isola Tiberina at 10:00 and it would cost 13 Euros.  So, we got up, walked for 30 minutes to get to Isola Tiberina, found the boat dock with the name advertised on the web site, with a boat at it, only to be told by the crew that they quit doing cruises to Ostia 3 years ago.  I felt like I was in the Twilight Zone.  I can understand a web site being out of date, but what was with the live person I spoke with on the phone.  However, one of the crew members managed to communicate to me how to get a bus a few blocks away that would take us to the train station where we could get a train to Ostia Antica.  On the bus, I managed to understand a little old lady I asked to help me know when to get off for the train station.  She was very helpful and got us to the right place.  I’m sure glad I am good at understanding accented English and a smattering of words in Italian or we might still be riding around on the bus 10 hours later.  We then figured out how to use the automatic ticket machine at the train station since there were no live bodies in the ticket office, got on the train and sat down.  Seated across from us were two little old ladies who made me check to see if I was actually in Rome, Italy and not Brooklyn, New York.  They were both short, a little chubby and dressed for “going out.”  One had a yellow skirt patterned with orange, green and red flowers and an orange blouse.  The other, the more chubby one, had on a tight white skirt with a rather daring slit up the front.  Both had very brightly polished finger and toe nails, and very dark lipstick.  They talked non-stop, hands waving, the entire 40 minute trip.  They spoke in Italian, but I swear they were probably saying, “my ungrateful kids nevah call me!  Bettah they should call theah mothuh!  What’s the world coming to anyway when your kids don’t call.  Aftah everything I did for them when they were growing up!”  And the other one replied, “I know!  And you being such a mench and all dahling!”   Anyway, they were really cute.  I found myself thinking – these are part of the Greatest Generation, those wonderful people who lived through WWII like my parents.  Then, with sort of sickening clarity, it dawned on me that those two little old ladies were probably my age or maybe 5 years older – probably BORN during or just after WWII, and that I am also a little old lady now.  Not a real pleasant realization!

We arrived in Ostia Antica, walked about half a mile from the train station to the ruins.  I have to say, they were really wonderful!  There really weren’t that many tourists there, not the teeming crowds like we dealt with yesterday at the Roman Coliseum and the Forum.  The landscape was different too, with redwood-like trees, a little cooler than in Rome, and the scent of pine needles everywhere.  And the ruins themselves were so wonderfully preserved, and really extensive.  The best part is that we could just go into almost all of the buildings.  The only things they had roped off were some of the mosaic floors to keep them from getting destroyed, and a few cisterns etc. that could be dangerous if anyone fell in.  But to be able to walk right into places that were the homes of real people thousands of years ago – my imagination was going crazy!!  I love that type of adventure, I can FEEL the people who walked through the marketplaces and lived in the homes and took baths in the baths and dreamed and had happy and sad times there.  It was a really good time, an uneventful train ride home.  Now, we have only two more days here L.   Sunday, we will walk to an Anglican church for services.  The church is right near the Spanish Stairs, so we will see those and whatever else is in that area after church, and then come back to the apartment to pack and get ready to get in a taxi for the airport about 08:30 Monday morning.  That leaves tomorrow, Saturday, to do something.  We don’t want to spend all day on a train.  We wanted to go to Siena, but you have to take the train to Florence (a little over 2 hours) and then change trains and get on another one for about an hour to Siena.  Repeat to come back.  So, I guess we will miss Siena which makes me sad since we heard so many good things about it.  I know we’ll figure something out though.  I think we’ve enjoyed everything we’ve done here, but mostly the times of just BEING here and feeling the ambience of the place.  When we just walk in a direction and discover little streets and plazas and hole-in-the-wall shops, that’s more enjoyable than the tourist sites.  I guess we are just weird!

I feel bad that I will miss an important luncheon back in Roseville tomorrow, a lunch that will honor a very dear friend of mine, Deacon Bettye.  And I’ll miss the going away and appreciation gathering on Sunday for the Pastor of our church in Lincoln, Pastor Ed.  Why they didn’t plan these things when I would be there I just don’t know, but I want both those dear people to know I wouldn’t miss those events for anything if I was not out of the country.   Both of them have helped me during some difficult times in my life, even if they aren’t aware of it.

15 September 2011

We have spent the last two days in Venice.  Relaxing, doing not much of anything.  We took the train up here and that was nice.  I am starting to really like public transportation (except for the damned cell phones).  You can just sit there, watching the countryside go by, or read, or sleep.  Rick likes to strike up conversations with fellow travelers.  I don’t.  I like to think, read, sleep.  I don’t like it when other people try to talk to me either.  I just want to be quiet.  The countryside in Italy is remarkably like Northern California.  Rolling brown and green hills, grape vineyards, olive orchards, and occasional glimpses of ocean.  But arriving in Venice is definitely different.  I love the quiet streets devoid of motorized traffic.  I love the water, the canals, the multi-storied buildings with flower pots on the balconies, laundry lines spanning the narrow streets.  Actually, that part reminds me a lot of visiting Brooklyn, N.Y. as a child.  My mother comes from Brooklyn, and we used to take the train there from our home in South Bend, Indiana (and later Tinley Park, Illinois) to visit my grandparents.  I remember the multi-story buildings, the fire escapes, the flowers, and the laundry lines stretching from window to window across streets and courtyards.  Also I remember people talking to each other across the streets from window to window which also happens here in Venice, Italy.  You have to be careful what you do on the street because you can never tell who may be watching you from an upstairs window somewhere!  There are a lot of dogs here too, and I’ve seen a number of cats which makes me miss Moses!  The dogs seem to be overwhelmingly overfed.  Probably about 80% of the dogs I’ve seen are overweight.  We can’t get on the Internet here, so I haven’t been in touch with anyone or able to post anything.  I’ll have to post this when we get back to Rome.  We spent today wandering all around the labyrinthine streets of Venice.  First, this morning, we went to San Marco square.  I remember it from when I was here in 1985.  We visited the beautiful church there, went into many quaint little shops.  I bought a leather photo album and a silver cross necklace and earrings set – total of about $30.00 at that time.  Today, there were lines a quarter of a mile long to get into the church, and it was no longer free.  We opted out.  The street to the Bridge of Sighs was clogged with so many people we also opted out of seeing that.  We had already decided against a gondola ride since they now cost 80 Euros which translates to about $110.00 at today’s exchange rate.  Being on a gondola with 8 other people for 30 minutes for that price didn’t appeal to either of us.  So we just took off walking.  It’s practically impossible to get lost here.  We wandered down crooked, narrow little streets, over canals, into courtyards and plazas, past “hole-in-the-wall” little shops and restaurants for a couple of hours.  It was ten times more fun and memorable than waiting in line for that amount of time and paying a bunch of money to see the inside of yet another church while being bumped into and jostled by hundreds of Asian and New Yorker tour groups.  We can look up pictures of those tourist attractions on line.  We did stop at one outside café type place where a band was playing all the songs from “Sound of Music.”  We were going to get a cold drink and enjoy the music.  A waiter appeared and informed us it would be a minimum charge of 6 Euros (per person) just to sit there and anything we ordered would be on top of that.  We laughed and left.   After walking back down the waterfront for awhile, past all the street vendors, we stopped at a place we thought would be cheaper.  I got a coffee, Rick got a beer.  The waiter was a snob.  And when the bill came (there were no prices listed anywhere before we ordered), it was 17 Euros!!  That’s about $25.00.  That’s when we decided to leave the waterfront and the tourists and strike out through the heart of Venice.  We had coffee later at an obscure little place by a park where kids were playing – for 5 Euros.  They say you could spend a year in Venice and not see everything.  We’ve been here for two days and seen all we need to without having to sell our house to pay the prices to see the rest.  Nothing is worth the inflated prices we’ve seen here.  Yes, I’d love to see the Bridge of Sighs again, yes it would be nice to see some of the art museums, the Naval museum etc.  But something inside of me just totally rebels against being ripped off, and I absolutely CAN’T STAND crushing masses of people. We tried to walk into a church today just to be quiet for a few minutes, and to see the beauty of the church.  There was an entry fee.  I will not pay to go into a church!  I might gladly put a donation into a voluntary donation receptacle, but not pay a mandatory fee to go into a church.   Our apartment here is really nice.  It’s actually bigger than the one in Rome.  It has a living/dining room, kitchen, bathroom, and bedroom.  It’s really noisy outside with all the people walking around, talking to each other etc., but that kind of noise doesn’t bother me.  It’s motorized noise that drives me nuts, and there isn’t any of that here.  I have loved walking around not having to watch out for motorcycles, cars, or even bicycles.  There is someone in an apartment across the alleyway who likes to blast heavy metal type music, and that is really annoying, but it isn’t non-stop, thank God.  Tomorrow, we catch the train back to Rome.  It has been a really nice interlude.

Last day in Uganda

04 September 2011

We told everyone last night we wanted to leave at 08:00 this morning.  So, true to form, at 08:00, breakfast was served.  About 09:00, we actually pulled out of the driveway, but were we really leaving?  NO!  We stopped at the market parking lot, Isaac was let out to catch a boda boda back home to get a file David forgot.  And then, some guy named Patrick got in the car with us.  We then drove to a gas station – to get gas!  NO!  First David stopped the van, got out and started talking to some other priests that were standing there.  Then, he started pulling the van into the service bay.  But he couldn’t get it in right so he got out, there was the inevitable Tribal Council, and one of the service station guys got in to do it right.  He promptly backed the van almost into a truck before one of the guys standing by the truck slapped his hand against the side of the van.  Then he pulled it forward into the bay – go one foot, slam on the brakes, go two feet jerking the clutch all the way, slam on the brakes.  While all this was going on, Patrick informed us he was going to Kampala with us.  Evidently, David hired him to drive around in Kampala.  Oh joy!

Later:

As it turns out, Patrick drove most of the way to Kampala.  At one point, after he had passed several vehicles on a blind curve, I threatened to get out and walk.  He seemed to behave for a little while, but soon went back to his insane ways.  He would pull out into the oncoming lane about 100 yards behind the one he wanted to pass and stay in the oncoming lane trying to pass as many vehicles as possible, only swerving back into our lane when an oncoming vehicle would appear.  He did this on blind curves, going up hills, whatever.  He didn’t slow down when going through towns with people and animals crossing the roads.  At one point I got out my crocheting to try to ignore the road.  I wound up screwing up my pattern.  I prayed a lot, and God did eventually give me peace so that my stomach quit churning from anger and frustration.  We eventually got to Kampala and the hotel.  This time, they gave us a street-side room.  There was a balcony, but the door out to it was padlocked shut so we had to leave the room and go down the hallway to get to the balcony.  This was fun since the power was out in the hotel and the hallways were dark.  Getting the key into the door lock was fun too.  Finally, they fired up the generator.  We went back to our room.  Rick turned on the TV and I got out my crocheting.  About 45 minutes later, the generator stopped, the TV fizzled and the lights went out.  We decided to give it up and go to sleep.  We pulled down the mosquito netting and laid down.  Just as we were both just about asleep, Isaac knocked on the door.  He had a basket from a lady from Kabale who just happened to be in Kampala shopping and just happened to bring her baskets with her.  Rick bought them from her, adding to the already possibly overweight suitcases.  But we only come here once or twice per year, and the baskets and jewelry we buy here sells in the U.S. and helps fund the orphanage.  After buying the baskets, we tried to go to sleep again.  But the noise from vehicles going past, people yelling at each other on the street, and the whole room smelling like exhaust fumes because the window in the bathroom wouldn’t close kept me awake for hours.  I fell asleep sometime around 03:00.  At 05:30, the Moslem call to prayer bellowed over the loudspeakers somewhere near accompanied by the drums in case someone miraculously didn’t here the loudspeakers.  So, after about 3 hours of sleep, it is now 07:30 and we are waiting for Isaac to come back from picking up his passport photos so we can go to the Embassy and apply for his visa.

06 September 2011

So, yesterday we totally forgot it was Labor Day.  The Embassy was closed.  He was so disappointed, but he can go back this morning.  After we went to the Embassy and found it closed, we tried to take David to the Ministry of the Interior to apply for national status for our NGO.  Rick was driving because they figured out I wasn’t going anywhere with Patrick driving.  After going to the Ministry of the Interior and being told to go to the Ministry of Gender which is nowhere near the first place, David decided to take boda bodas instead of trying to drive all over the city.  So we left David at the Ministry office.  Why everyone here doesn’t call first, find out where they are really supposed to go and make an appointment, I will never figure out.  Of course, I have only seen one telephone book in all the times I’ve been here, and there is no Directory Assistance, so maybe that wouldn’t be easy.  We started driving back to the hotel.  Isaac directed Rick to turn down this dirt road that was very muddy from recent rain.  The entire street was clogged with street vendors, their various wares piled around them in stacks in the dirt.  Boda bodas, both bicycle and motorcycle, careened in and out of the vendors and cars.  About halfway down the street, we came face to face with a line of taxis and cars coming head on to us.  Turns out the city is trying to discourage the street vendors from being here and had closed off the other end of the street where we would have emerged.  No warning signs anywhere, of course, and they were turning all the vehicles around at the end of the street.  So they were all coming back and we were the first one to meet them all coming back.  We had vehicles right behind us, so we were stuck in between.  Some guys in front of the van started yelling at Rick to turn around and slapping their hands on the front of the van.  Rick was getting really angry and frustrated because there was no way to turn around.  When he realized he was ready to get out and get in a fight, he just got out, said he wasn’t driving anymore and Patrick could drive now.  We all just sat there for a minute, then Patrick got in and got the van backed up and turned around with a lot of Tribal Council, yelling, people slapping hands on the van etc.  It was maddening.  So we finally got back on the original street and headed for the turn-about to get on the street to the hotel.  Of course, Patrick missed the turn off the turn-about and had to go around again.  The second time around, one of the four or five policemen who were lolling around on the turn-about doing absolutely nothing to control the traffic, happened to recognize Patrick as having come by there before.  Sensing that he was probably from out of town and seeing two certainly millionaire buzungu in the back seat, he decided to stop him.  He directed Patrick to pull into the middle of the turn-about and started harassing him, threatening to give him a 40,000 UGS ticket that had to be paid before we could leave.  Isaac the politician talked them out of that, but then came and asked us if we had 2,000 UGS he could give the police (as a bribe to let us go).  I got really mad and said I would rather go to jail than give the police guy a cent.  Isaac (the politician) went back to the police guy, waited until a bunch of pedestrians were gathered around, and started to pull a piece of paper out of his back pocket.  The police guy thought it was money, realized how many people were watching, and freaked out.  He waved Isaac back into the van and told us to get out of there right away.   After Patrick almost ran into a fence and then almost backed into a police motorcycle trying to get us out of there, we made it back to the hotel without further incident.  Since I had an appointment at the Diocese of Namirembe “after lunch,” Isaac suggested that Rick, Isaac and I walk to the Namirembe Guest House for lunch and then go to the Diocese for my appointment.  I asked if it was in good walking distance and he assured me it was.  So we took off walking.  After a full hour of walking on slanted edges, most of which were crumbling into sudden 6-inch drops off the sides of the pavement, along side 2-foot deep gutters running with  malodorous, mysterious green slime, up steep hills, we arrived at the Guest House.  But it was worth it when I ordered lunch and had my first lettuce and cheese in 6 weeks!  I had a good meeting at Women’s Ministries later, and the walk back was mostly downhill.  When we got back to the hotel, the power was still off.  We decided to leave for the airport at about 20:00 (our flight wasn’t until 02:00 next morning) and find a place to have dinner on the way.  But we ran into the worst traffic jam I’ve ever seen anywhere!  It took us almost 5 hours to go less than 40 miles to the airport.  It was one of the most horribly frustrating and infuriating experiences I’ve ever had.  I said the Serenity Prayer over and over like a mantra just to keep from jumping out of the van and screaming like a berserker through the traffic.  We made it to the airport, without dinner, pretty much just in time.  I met a woman on the plane who had had to jump out of the taxi she was in and take a boda boda, holding her suitcase in front of her, just to make it on time for the flight.  We got to Istanbul, had a 7 hour layover which wasn’t bad at all until it turned into a 9 hour layover due to an air-traffic-controller strike in Italy.  When we finally got here to Rome, we were ready for a VACATION!   And so far, it’s been wonderful, relaxing, and just the debriefing we needed after the absolute frustration of the three days preceding!

Today is our last day in Kabale.  I'm ready to go, and I want to stay.  It's so strange having two homes on opposite sides of the world.  They seriously can't be much further apart.  I'm glad we were here longer this time.  I've learned more of the local language and that gives me more confidence in carrying out day to day activities.  I've walked to town almost every day so hopefully I'm less of a novelty now.  There were also a lot of white tourists this time.  I think the local people know the difference between missionaries and tourists though.  I found a really nice place that rents rooms for a good price too - hopefully for when others decide to join us here some day.  It's in back of the market and cafe that are the cleanest and best stocked in town that I've found.  They are "self-contained," meaning the toilet is in the room instead of sharing one with all the other guests. 

Yesterday afternoon, we had so much fun!  The power stayed on all afternoon and we took the projector over to the orphanage and the DVD of Pandamania music (the music that goes with the Vacation Bible Study materials I brought from Bayside, Lincoln).  I can't wait to get home and put some of the video on for everyone to see!  The kids (and me, Rick, Isaac and Emily) danced to "God is Wild About Us" and several other of the songs for almost an hour.  We danced together, one by one, in pairs.  The kids picked up the words quickly and after we were finished and packing up to go home, the kids were still singing the songs.  It was wonderful!

Last night, I made salsa and guacamole for everyone to try.  They are always asking to know how to make "American" food.  So far, I've come up with very little that I can think of that is uniquely American that I can make here with local ingredients and the charcoal fire cooking.  I can't eat avocados because I'm allergic to them, but Rick said it turned out good.  I ate the salsa as a raw vegetable and it was delicious!  Fresh tomatoes, bell peppers, onions, a touch of chili seasoning and fresh garlic.  MMMMM.  There are no corn chips here, but the Royal Market had Pringles, so we got some of those for everyone to try with the guacamole and salsa.  When I was making it, everyone else was involved with cooking the regular things for dinner.  But today at lunch, there was guacamole and salsa, exactly as I made it last night.  They are amazing!

After lunch today, we walked to town to exchange money for the trip to Kampala and to pay for the paper bead jewelry we ordered when we first got here.  I also had to pay school fees for the two girls Rick and I sponsor, Mary and Divine.  They are not residents of the orphanage, but Mary is the one who originally inspired us to do something for children here, and Divine is Rev. David's granddaughter and our God-daughter.  From town, we walked to the orphanage to say good-bye to the kids.  That was hard.  We bought two cakes from the street boys' ministry to take to the orphanage to give the kids a going away treat.  One was banana, the other chocolate, two completely new things here.  All the local cakes are a sort of carrot cake type, and heavy as a rock.  The icing is a hard shell with a dual purpose - to decorate and to keep the cake fresh for a few days.  You almost have to have a hack saw to cut it.  But Michelle, the missionary who works with the street boys along with her husband, Taylor, is teaching them to make cakes like they are made in Canada - lighter, and without icing, or with softer icing.  I gave each of the kids one piece of each and then we asked them to vote on which they liked best.  My food addict self was totally shocked and incensed that they voted overwhelmingly for the banana cake!  Banana over chocolate?  Unbelievable!  The kids prayed for us for safe journey, and we prayed for them to have a safe, wonderful year until we see them again.  They gave us a wonderful group hug that almost knocked me off my feet. 

While we were still there, we began to hear thunder and the breeze picked up and became cooler.  We were hoping to get home before the sky opened up and started to pour like it does here.  Walking home, down the dirt road that is really just a trail in many places, over log bridges that span the little streams, with the cool breeze blowing my hair and the thunder in the distance, I felt so ALIVE! 

Tomorrow, we drive to Kampala, not a pleasant experience, especially for Rick who has to drive.  The first third of the 250 mile trip is still bad road with potholes everywhere.  Fortunately, the last two thirds have relatively new, smooth and even marked in places roads.  But it's still scary sharing the road with the 26-wheelers and the crazy bus and taxi drivers that pass you on blind curves and the black clouds of diesel smoke coming out of half of the vehicles.  Then we finally arrive in Kampala which is like driving through a medieval village that suddenly became populated with motor vehicles.  Sunday evening we will stay at a hotel, the same one we stayed at when we first got here where there was no hot water on our side of the hallway because they "forgot" to turn it on.  But the room itself was nice and clean.  Monday, we go to the American Embassy early in the morning to see about getting Isaac a visa to come visit us in California.  Monday afternoon, I have an appointment at the Diocese of Namirembe to meet someone from the Kampala chapter of Daughters of the King.  That will be exciting it if really happens.  I think it might, because when I called the number from the web site for the Diocesan office, I got the Bishop's mobile phone, Bishop Wilberforce himself answered!  He promised to have his wife make sure someone would be there to meet me.  After that, we have a few things we want to look for in Kampala if we are brave enough, and then we will hang out at the hotel room until about 21:00 and then go to the airport.  We don't leave until 02:10 Tuesday, but we don't want David and Isaac to have to be out in the middle of the night there, and we have waited in enough airports for long hours that 3 or 4 hours will seem like nothing. 

Then - Italy!