Cool Rain, Hot Sun, Warm Hearts
Sadly, today was to be our final day working with the babies. Things were also wrapping up for our team at the building site. Maisy had woken in the night with a temperature and some tummy cramps but she had emerged from her slumber this morning feeling a whole lot better. She and I were set to join Mandy, Kaye, Julianne, Becca, Gemma, Rachel, Debbie and Jeanette at Baby Watoto. Sharon was alone on duty in the newborn’s room today. Her colleague had gone on leave and they hadn’t replaced her so she was delighted to have so many extra sets of willing hands at her disposal. We’ve formed such a close attachment to these little bundles of joy and cuteness, knowing all their names, feeding habits and idiosyncrasies. They’ve truly wound their way into our hearts. I can see why the carers find it so hard to farewell the babies when they move up to the next stage of care. Sharon loves them as fiercely as if they were her own and continues to visit all her babies long after they move on.
Mandy and I shared the washing up with gorgeous, gentle Grace, who we met for the first time today. As she shared her story with us, it was hard to fight back the tears. She had been taken into captivity by the rebels when she was just 4 years old, remaining in captivity and experiencing who knows what kinds of cruelty, until she was 9. She then escaped and lived in the bush, at that young age, for a couple of years. As her mother was travelling to be reunited with her daughter, she was ambushed and shot dead. Grace was rescued by Watoto and moved in with a family at the age of 14. She is now so proud to have this work and be able to support her own child and her younger brother. To meet this beautiful, smiley, softly spoken young woman, you could never possibly imagine the hardships she had been through. Without exception, the babies have similarly distressing backgrounds. Without the life-saving work of Watoto, many of them would have no chance of survival.
Kathy had taken a real shine to little Maria when she had visited Baby Watoto earlier in the week and wanted us to enquire about the possibility of her family being able to sponsor her. It will be so rewarding for Kath be able to follow her progress and keep in touch as she grows. We struggled to converse as we ate our lunch, not just because we were stuffing our mouths with the sweetest pineapple known to man but because of the roar of the torrential rain outside. It was bucketing down! We cuddled, changed, fed and farewelled our cute little friends for the last time and boarded the bus, bound for the building site, praying the deluge hadn’t filled all their carefully dug trenches or turned the site into a giant red mud bath.
Our prayers were answered as we drove in, to a very dry site. The rain had stayed away! The greenhouse project was to be officially dedicated today and Arthur, the minister from the Gulu church had come to do the honours. Everybody had downed tools to form a big circle. Fred suggested we should sing a song and a rousing, impromptu song in their native Luo ensued; the workers belting out the tune with gusto. Fred taught us the words and got us all moving and grooving and singing along. It was sensational. Keeping the vibe going, we each turned to put our hands on the shoulders of the person in front of us, forming a “train”. As we choo-chooed and shuffled our feet around in our big circle, Arthur and Fred sang out the verses in pitch-perfect harmony. We all piped in with the chorus: “Glory Train, glory train!” It was so much fun!
Three of the Ugandan workers from the building site – James, Peter and Isaac- who we’d all forged bonds with, lived very close to the site and had requested our team come and visit their homes, meeting their families. Initially we thought this would just be a small group activity but they were insistent the whole team come along. We trudged through the grassy bush, following James en masse, eventually emerging at a little clearing. Far from the noises of the road, this little sanctuary contained a few grass huts and a couple of small houses that were home to James and his wife Agness and James’ uncle. His adorable 3 year-old daughter, Mercy, came bundling out of the house, her small arms struggling to stretch around the chubbiness of her baby sister, Gifty (so named because she was a gift from God). Agness kindly insisted we come inside her house to meet her aunt and numerous nieces and nephews who were all crammed into the three small rooms they called home. There was no kitchen, no bathroom; just two small bedrooms and a small living room – completely bereft of furniture – where they all sat on the floor, eyes glued to a tiny tv. To see her joy and pride in her family and home, generously inviting us to step into her world, meant so much.
Along the meandering path a little further, was Peter’s place. Peter’s relatives came out of the woodwork like bees to a honeypot. All the generations were there, including the grand old matriarch who looked about a hundred in the shade, wrapped in African fabric and leaning on her walking stick. Here, one whole hut was dedicated to pigs and the wide open common area between huts was kept immaculately; the red earth swept and neat. We presented them with some soccer jerseys brought from home and gave out some more of our goodie bags of staples. They were over-the-moon and plied us with warm hugs and handshakes. it felt like a massive privilege to be there.
In the afternoon, the stage was set for the long awaited showdown between tribes: Uganda vs Australia. The football match of the year. The stakes were high, with the Ugandans pushing for a winner takes all/winner takes the bus situation. Hmmm. Though we did have a superbly crafted team, strong in attitude, athleticism and skills abounding, we did discourage the idea on a just in case basis, recognising the walk back to Gulu was a bit of a long one.
As word of the impending game spread, fit-looking Ugandans began to swarm onto the field from everywhere. We estimated there may have been about 30 on the field, making goal-scoring through the heaving crowd, quite a challenge. Our team put up a mighty, champions league worthy effort but were pipped at the post by their too-good African opponents in a nail-biting 1-0 result. Toby’s goal was disallowed, though the absence of any ref, combined with the dubious water bottle goal markers, meant there was a bit of guess work involved. Adrian came close to being red carded when he repeatedly tried to take out the goalie, crash tackling him Juggernaut-Jake-Trbojevic-style and forgetting he wasn’t playing rugby league.
Still buoyed from their win, our Ugandan friends were given more to smile about when our team donated their work boots to the fellas, replacing the inappropriate, hot, sweaty gumboots many of them had sported on the work site. Gloves, boots, sunglasses and hats were donated, Adrian even passing on his Akubra to Maurice, who looked very suave in his new headwear. The hard work of this great team of blokes was rewarded with gifts from our team and donated jerseys from back home. Though it’s a cliche to say it is more rewarding to give than to receive, seeing the absolute joy on the faces of these boys was the biggest gift of all for us. A highlight of our trip so far in fact.
