Morgan and I spent 5 (luxurious) nights in Kampala at a hotel that we were instantly uncomfortable with when we arrived, because what we are used to in Kenya, but it took about two minutes to get comfortable...especially when we saw that our room had a hot shower and a bath tub!!! Unheard of! Morgan actually took a shower and a bath the first night!
I had met a great young woman named Kristi at the Luis Palau office last February, in Beaverton, when we presented our Feed My Starving Children event to Kevin Palau. They were very helpful with advertising our event to the people around Portland. Kristi and I were instantly excited to talk about the possibility of me getting involved in their Love Kampala festival in Uganda in September, since I was going to be in Kenya anyway…even though I did not know it when we first talked together. I thought that I could be helpful to her since I had been around the block here in Kenya. So, Morgan and I went to work behind the scenes at the festival that happened in Uganda last weekend - and it was great…and frustrating all at the same time.
The Love Kampala Festival consisted of one FREE weekend of spreading the word about Jesus…and everyone was invited around the city. They had a kids area, a BMX/motorcycle/skateboard exhibition, food (local vendors that were selling stuff), some local arts and crafts. And a 4-5 hour stage show with Christian musicians (Nicole C. Mullins, Papa San and the Solid Rock worship team from Beaverton!). The African Children’ Choir was there too! Andrew Palau (Luis’s son) did a “call to Jesus” evangelistic invitation to people who came to know Jesus that night…pretty powerful stuff.
No matter how much you plan…we, as Americans anyway…nothing ever goes as you think it will in these crazy countries of Kenya and Uganda. Kristi had about 170 people to take care of and transport(musicians, pastors, event planners, etc) with about 20 drivers that were hired for the week. Unfortunately, the drivers did not understand Kristi over the phone…even though they all speak English. Morgan instantly became Kristi’s right-hand-man because after living here for so long you learn how to say things properly…rolling your r’s, different voice inflections, leaving certain words out of sentences, or phrasing differently…i.e. “help me with that pen” rather than “ can I please use your pen”. You would think that if you know English that it would not be so hard, but it is! Paul and I have gotten used to talking in a similar fashion, but Morgan is so good.
All kinds of crazy things happened, or didn’t happen, for the festival. The caterer that Kristi hired to bring meals and water to the “hospitality tent” just decided not to show up. Hired busses only made one trip to bring people in (they were supposed to come and go most of the day). The van drivers would or would not show up…whatever they felt like. The BMX guys only had minimal supplies to make their ramps and dirt hills. They were impressive anyway. That is only to name a few things.
Kristi’s mom, Doreen traveled with Kristi so we hung around together and were assigned to the “Kids Station” of the festival. That is a whole other story! I thought that I would be Kristi’s assistant, but it was so awesome that she and Morgan got on so well. Kristi is a single gal who is a few years older than Morgan, so it worked out great. At the end of the festival Morgan told Kristi that she, Kristi,had about a year and a half to have a good job so that Morgan can come home and be her assistant. They have plans for Morgan to go to Burundi (another East African country) next August, where another African Andrew Palau’s festival will be held, so they can work together again. Who knows….it might work! Last year they held a festival in Kigali, Rwanda (the main Rawandan genocide city…you know, the movie “Hotel Rwanda”). I guess it was a much easier place to make things happen…go figure?!
Anyway, Morgan and I had a great time together and I am so glad we made the trip. It took about 7 hours by bus to get there and I thought we would die on the way home. We traveled in the evening back to Kisumu and made the mistake of sitting right behind the driver. He was a mad man behind the wheel. We really are lucky to be alive! I was singing Christian songs the whole way home and praying to God for our safety. We stopped along the road once so people could buy food from the people along the road (roasted maize, chicken, goat) and Morgan had to pee so badly that she hopped off of the bus and ran across the street, the dark street. Mid-squat, she almost fell down the hill that she didn’t know was there. Glad I wasn’t watching because she came back and told me that she fell about 6 feet before she stopped herself. At least she felt better when she was finished!
We were back in Kisumu about 1:00 am and had to take a tuk-tuk back to Morgan’s apartment (that is a three-wheeled golf cart type of vehicle,,,kinda fun, but not too fast). The guard at the bus station made us stand inside the gate because if we stool outside while we waited for the tuk-tuk, we might be killed. I figured that it wasn’t any different than the bus ride home…Thanks to God for getting us home safely.
I spent part of the next day with Morgan before having to get to the 6:00 ferry back to Mbita. I had to stand up on the (last) bus to the ferry for almost 2 hours in a sardine can fashion. At least I was almost at the front of the bus and only had people squished up against me from the back-side…I stood in between two seats and hung on for dear life. Once, I had to tell the guy behind me that if he kept pushing on my legs that I would fall over and his response was “Oh, I was only bending down to hide from the police”. NICE! I heard some guys behind me tell me to “get down” when we were stopping for a police inspection, but I figured that it was not my fault if the bus was too full, so I pretended not the hear them. The police didn’t care about anything… I did have two cute babies in front of me to watch and their big entertainment, besides sleeping, was poking their little fingers at the chicken whose head was sticking out of the plastic bag on their mama’s lap. It was a sweat box in the bus, but the baby-mamas kept putting more clothes on the kids. A long sleeve shirt over the t-shirt, a sweater and then a knit hat. Can’t ever be too warm here!
That is a typical day/scene of my life in Kenya…hope you enjoyed
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