

MY TRIP TO UGANDA
I never know where to begin to talk about my experiences in Northern Uganda. It's as if when I come back, my heart is still over there and mouth has not yet caught up with my heart. Gradually stories will come out of me as I regain touch with that part of my heart that is reserved for that place and those people, but my processing is often slow. I come back almost paralyzed by the mountain of things I would LOVE to do for all those girls and by the vast chasm that separates that dream and my actual life. Change is slow. Loving those who have not been loved and are suspicious of it, is often painful. And yet….there are the Knightey's of this world who live in IDP camps only to become impregnated again, who smile at you and remember your name. The fact a simple visit could give someone hope is beyond me, and yet that is the power of human connection.
WHAT DID I DO OVER THERE? (the brief version :)
*I spent time encouraging the girls I met before and met a whole lot of new ones
*I visited programs that I can partner with in the future to love and counsel girl soldiers. One in particular was very similar to what I'd like to do in terms of Income Generating Activities for the girls and creating community for them. The major difference being they did not offer long-term Christian counseling support or a follow-up program for after girls leave the Child Mother Village.
*I went to IDP camps that are possibilities for beginning the project and looked at the needs and pro's and con's of each one
*I learned the process of becoming an NGO in Uganda and reserved a name for Zion Project in the registry
*I went on a week-long counseling retreat in Jinja for myself and also to learn more about helping girl soldiers in their healing process. It was incredible.
That was it in a nutshell. It was a GREAT trip and much needed for figuring out future steps. So all my prayers were answered. Much more was done in me than I believe that I did, but that is pretty standard in my experience of Africa.
I was utterly moved by the girls and even the men who ran up to me to give me hugs as though I had been gone a day, as though I was someone important. I was saddened by the girls I had met last time who were now pregnant again, possibly by rape, possibly by necessity for food. I lost hope at the fact that so little have returned home because peace talks have once again fallen through. I am regaining it slowly by degrees as I watch movies like Amazing Grace, or see resolutions pass that I have called my congressman about. I see that the fight may be long and hard, but it is still worth fighting.