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Life in the village, as a parable that points to Christ and to eternity



I have stepped out of the village for one week, and am spending time with my sister and her family in Kampala (with my 4 littles). Samuel is still in the village and working hard to finish a permanent brick house for our extended family there. We began this house 9 years ago, and it has been very slowly taking shape. Unfortunately, not much can be accomplished with any quality, without Samuel overseeing (even now, if he leaves a “professional” builder to work on one portion of the house, while he is on the other side, he can come back and find that no level has been used, and the work needs to be redone). 

As I wrotelast time, I could die to certain life comforts, and would gladly count them a loss for Christ, but still struggle with being a foreigner with the language. We haven’t been called to live and minister long term in an African village (at this point in our lives). So, I am enjoying a visit with my sister before spending the next few weeks in the village and then heading home to Canada.

I am enjoying the comforts of electricity, running water, living indoors, comfortable furniture, and speaking English. But in no way do I think that I am “above” the village life. And, I was honestly torn between wanting to spend time with my sister (and needing to do some homeschool and reporting, and ministry work where the internet (while slow compared to Canadian standards) actually works) …and staying in the village with Samuel’s family, connecting with them more, and (although with the language struggle persisting) learning from them.

I have been learning a lot these past few weeks in the village. About myself, my children, human nature, and so much more. As I sit down to really examine myself and my thoughts, and to reflect on the past month in the village, I will try not to bore you with this blog…I will just write a description of what life in the village looks like, with a few lessons on culture and on life along the way.

Life in the village

To some, this village experience is a completely foreign concept, to others it is a normal way of life, and to others still, it is perhaps like my own experience. Perhaps you too live in a city or even in another country, but visit family in the village. Wayfaring between two worlds – two worlds that exist in different time zones – not the time zones of our globe, but a time zone which feels like time travel across centuries.

So, what is the village life like? There may be a thousand answers to that question, but I will not attempt to answer it absolutely. Here is my description of our village though:

As soon as our car tires leave the tarmac and hit the bumpy dirt road, we have left the city of Soroti (really a small town which also looks (and behaves) a good 100 years behind the current year in Canada, in most respects). The bumpy dirt road heads North East, and is equipped with “bridges” of dirt and pipes that cross the dry-looking swamps. We pass through a few “trading centres” and finally pass the town of Amuria, which has a single round-a-bout, a few shops, one restaurant, an internet café, and a small “petrol station”. Leaving Amuria behind, we drive toward and then through the trading centre of Acowa, and then see our destination about 500 meters ahead. If you are not used to driving in nature, and use buildings as landmarks, then you might miss it: the two large trees on the right (one is a mango tree), and the “foot-path” between them. That is where we turn.

Our vehicle has widened the path a bit, but it is not a road nor a driveway, it is a dirt path meant for pedestrians, and the odd bicycle or “boda-boda” (motorbike used as a taxi).

We pass by a few fields of sweet potatoes and/or cassava, a few goats and chickens, and three “homesteads” of several round huts clustered together around a compound (yard) where (in this season) potatoes are drying on the ground, we also pass a few children (usually covered in dust and wearing clothes that are worn thin, with holes), the young children carry babies or water, or homemade toys for playing.

We turn at the large stump, and bump along the path until we can see “home”.

The entrance to our family’s home has a large oval shaped building made of mud bricks and cow dung. The walls are about three feet high, and the grass thatched roof hangs down to almost cover the “windows”, above that wall. There are two openings or doorways into this building, and one has to duck to get under the roof when entering (but can stand tall once inside). The roof is held up by 3 large tree branches (or small trunks). This is the church building.

The church building is to the right, and to the left is our well (which is flush with the ground, and covered with a concrete lid and iron sheet), and the entrance to our large compound. The compound is surrounded by 7 round mud-huts with grass thatched roofs.

In the middle of the compound is where we are building a house (approximately 4,000 square feet, including what will be screened in patios). The house is almost a duplex, with two houses in one – but with an access door between them, for sharing space. One side will have “our house”, for when we come to visit (and to share with other visitors too), and the other side is for my in-laws: Papa & Tata, two sisters (plus any who come to visit- Samuel has 9 sisters), and then there is Deborah who was widowed by Samuel’s only (living) brother in 2016. And there are 8 fatherless children who will live there too (Deborah has 6, another sister has 1, and then another girl has been taken in by Samuel’s mom). Culturally, we are responsible for 6 of those children (aged: infant to 10 years).

The huts surrounding that house, are where our family is living right now. The huts are really for sleeping and changing in, as the “living” all happens outside. One hut is for cooking, and one hut was built just for us for this visit (and our hut has a smooth cement floor, while theirs all have cow-dung/dirt floors).

The cooking hut has a few cooking spots around the exterior, and one inside. The goat, calf, and lamb also sleep tied to that house. Cooking is done over an open fire, with the saucepan (pot-without handles) balancing on three large rocks. Dishes are washed at a wooden “washing station” beside the cooking hut.

There is also a small semi-circular “hut” without a roof, used for bathing.

Our hut is just big enough to fit a queen size foam mattress on the floor, with a single mattress beside it. When stepping through the doorway, there is about 1.5 feet to step before stepping on the bed. We keep a blue bin of school supplies beside the door to the left, and use that as a “nightstand” too. To the right, behind the open door is space for a large blue bin, with our suitcase and carry-on case on top of that. Then there is about half a foot space (or less) between the single mattress and a brick wall. Stepping around/beside that mattress to the right, and around the corner of that brick wall is a little 2x4 foot “shower” room with a small drain. We have a shower bag that heats up in the sun, and then hangs (from my “mommy hook”) from the stick/branch beams that hold up the grass thatched roof (and/or we “bucket bathe”. I am SO thankful for that shower room!

How do 6 people sleep on those two mattresses? We sleep with thanksgiving for having mattresses, as many people (like my husband as he grew up), don’t have a mattress. The kids sleep side by side across the queen size mattress. I sleep at their feet (sometimes getting a massage from their toes in the night), and Samuel sleeps on the single mattress. We have mosquito nets around the beds, which help keep debris from the roof and walls, bugs, chameleon droppings, rats, and other critters out of our beds. We actually haven’t seen a single mosquito in the village (although Eleanora got malaria when we were staying a few days in the nearest city of Soroti).

Samuel is working REALLY hard on building the house (no exaggeration, my husband does more work (and more quickly) than his other 3-5 construction workers and their labourers combined –and even our children ask, “why does daddy do all the work?” –not that the others are not working, just not in comparison).

The children and I are enjoying the simplicity of life in the village. We are getting lots of homeschool work accomplished, and some things feel like a “field trip”, as we study grade 3 Canadian history (of the early settlers and First Nations Peoples in the late 1700’s and early 1800’s). Everything from food preparation, farming, hunting, food preservation, using a mortar, using a charcoal iron, handwashing clothes, fetching water, and more is being experienced first hand.

Things are more “simple” (less materialism, less/different social life), but also more complicated. Complicated in that it just takes so long to do everything – like cooking: fetch water, fetch firewood, build fire, slowly boil water, kill and clean a chicken, cook food, serve it, then start next dish/meal for the next “shift” of people eating. The kids and I are always served first, then the other kids, then the construction workers, then the women who did all of the cooking. Next comes washing all the dishes (or washing between shifts for some things), and all of this is without running water.

The women (and girls!) do SO much work, from waking up early to go to the gardens, to all of the cooking, washing, cleaning, sweeping (even the dirt floors and the ground in the dusty compound get swept), childcare, some animal care, fetching water (for our family at least for the past 2.5 years that water usually comes from our own well –otherwise, (and for construction), it involves walking long distances and carrying heavy jerry-cans of water back on their heads. The boys take care of the animals (bringing them to graze and for water), and take care of some home repairs. The women also do most of the building when it comes to mud huts, and they build the cow-dung floors and “floor” in the compound for drying potatoes (and other harvests), they sit and peel thousands of potatoes, slice and chop, dry, and store them, and so much more! Papa hunts, collects honey, takes care of and trades cows (he trades cows like some might trade $ on the stock exchange)

In comparison, I feel like I don’t do anything (aside from homeschooling, taking care of my own kids and my own hut). I do jump in to help with peeling potatoes, some childcare, and whatever else I see (and am “allowed”) to do, but I am treated as a guest of honour for now, and my younger sisters-in-law do not “let” me do anything. If I begin handwashing my/our clothes, a sister quickly comes to take over! I don’t do any cooking either. I have driven the van to the bore hole so the sisters can fill all of our jerry cans, and do help to carry the water to where it needs to be, but otherwise, I was actually feeling quite “useless”, and had a particularly difficult evening a few weeks ago, which lead to a “family meeting” with myself, my mother-in-law, 4 sisters-in-law and my husband. They were very kind, and all assured me that they want to serve me and do not want me to feel out of place, but do not want me to have to do anything –that is their culture; they are blessed to have us visiting, and to be able to get to know our children, and to be blessed with the house – and in return, they want to bless me and serve me/us, and want to make sure that I don’t feel bad about it, but blessed by them. So, I am enjoying the blessing, and taking more time to do homeschool, and also to read God’s Word with my children.

We have no entertainment, and not many books either, so the kids ask me several times throughout our days in the village if we can read the Bible, and we are having great discussions too – and hopefully getting into a good habit that won’t change when we go back to Canada (or back to the mission field in El Salvador).

Aside from the culture of honouring me as a guest, and not “allowing” me to do any work, there are a few other major cultural differences between my Canadian (multi-cultural) background, and the culture of the Teso people. A few differences, which affect my/our daily living are:

 The Teso people, much like other African tribes greet each other much differently. I am used to shaking hands with strangers, hugging close friends and most sisters-in-Christ, side-hugging most brothers in Christ, and then in El Salvador kissing (or “pretending” to kiss) on the cheek.
 I am learning that:
·      when greeting, female relatives or sisters-in-Christ, after a long absence, hug shoulder-to-shoulder first touching right shoulders and then left shoulders (facing each other).  (also applies when men greet men?)
·      If not after a long absence then women (or friends or same gender? – still learning!) greet by shaking hands, and often remain holding hands or doing a “secret hand shake” moving hands from horizontal to vertical.
·      When a female child is greeting an adult (including when my nieces greet me), or when a woman is greeting a man, or when a younger woman (or same age, but giving honour) greets another woman, the woman/girl kneels or “curtsies”. Some African tribes, like that of my brother-in-law (whose home I am staying in right now in Kampala), kneel down all the way to greet, but the Teso can “half-kneel”, or put one knee down, or almost squat –like what I know as a “curtsy” - all of this kneeling or curtsying is done while also extending a hand to shake/hold, and while verbally greeting.

The Teso (and other African) culture is also very different when it comes to dining: many minor things are different, like the type of food, how they cook, eating with hands (usually), and the schedule for meals. Breakfast of millet porridge (drink) is served anytime between 9-11, lunch between 2:30-4pm, porridge again between 5-7pm, and then supper/dinner between 9-11pm  (usually after my children are in bed, satisfied with the porridge drink). But the more significant difference for me, is that not everyone eats together.

Papa eats alone at a little table on the other side of the compound (or with my husband if I am not around), Tata and daughters and grandchildren eat together on a mat/tarp/ground, guests (which for now includes myself and my children) eat separately (in our own “dining” hut, at a little table). Guests and men in the family are brought water and a basin and a girl kneels down to pour water over each person’s hands as they wash (my sisters did this for us the first couple of weeks, but now I wash my family’s hands).

This week at my sister’s home I am enjoying being able to do my own laundry, help in the kitchen, and (above all) visit and communicate freely in my mother-tongue of English.

And, as I end this blog post, I am still reflecting on so many lessons that I am learning. Lessons on dying to myself, and being satisfied in Christ (not needing anything besides Him). Lessons on devotion, on being fully devoted to Christ and to the most important things of life (loving and glorifying God – growing and leading/teaching my children in their growth in our love & knowledge of God, knowing and obeying God’s commands – the greatest of which is to love Him with our whole selves and to love our neighbours). Learning not to be distracted and not needing anything outside of a relationship with Christ…

I read a book by John Piper yesterday in which he equated his marriage to a parable about Christ and His Church… that’s what this is – this village life, this simple, focused and undistracted life, it is a parable of Christ… I read in a Mommy Wars book once too, about a missionary to Africa who compared her giving up certain things to fasting – fasting from electricity, from running water, from the “comforts” of home in N. America. I went into this time in the village with that “fast” in mind, willing to give things up for the sake of knowing and serving Christ (and by serving, for now, it is really serving Christ through serving my husband and caring for my own children as the "least of theses" and doing it as unto Christ). I think that "fasting" mindset has helped, but ultimately, it is about learning to be content no matter what the circumstances, and to continually press on toward the goal of knowing Christ, and to spending an eternity with Him.

I am still learning, but am so thankful for the lessons begun, and I look forward to the next few weeks at home in the village, especially to building relationships and to sharing the Gospel – and to showing the Jesus Film in the local language of Ateso! God is so good, and I am so thankful for this time.

Thanks for reading, and may you be encouraged, wherever you are in life, and wherever you live, to be thankful, and to live a life uncluttered and unpolluted by the (secular) world, and to be thankful and content in plenty AND in want. And may your life be a parable that points to Christ and to eternity – for this is all a shadow, the best is yet to come!





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