Tuesday December 13: The Fifth Presbytery of the EPC Uganda

The fifth meeting of the EPC Uganda Presbytery wasn’t scheduled until January 5, but we would all be back in Tennessee by then, so the Presbytery changed its meeting date. The location was Kafuma, a tiny, very rural area outside the mid-size city of Mpigi. The trip would take about 1½ hours, so the van came at 8:30. In addition to our regular crew, Dan was there as well as Sister Fatima from Kassanda. But we found that it had rained a bit in the night and the stifling heat from yesterday had been replaced by a very pleasant morning. It’s a good thing: with the material we were transporting to Kafuma taking up the back seat, we had everyone crunched together in only three rows of seats!

Vincent found a way through the city that minimized the impact of traffic. We dvid, however, witness our first accident this morning. An Indian man in a brand new Toyota SUV clipped the side of a taxi. No one was hurt, and both cars moved on pretty quickly. But the poor new driver drove his Toyota directly in front of another taxi at the very next intersection. I’m not sure whether they hit, but there was a lot of yelling!

Even though the streets were more navigable on this side of town, the sidewalks in the market areas were still totally crammed with shoppers, lookers, and loungers. Once out of Kampala, we were able to pick up speed. I let Jon use a spare digital camera and he seemed to enjoy snapping shots as we drove through the countryside. The drive is spectacular. The road runs along a valley floor with short, rolling mountains and tall hills around it. Most of the area is still in its natural jungle state, so the greens are spectacular and the trees huge. Every few miles, a series of wooden shacks house stacks of brightly colored fruits and vegetables. The dirt is as red as Georgia clay and huge red termite mounds stand guard over cleared fields.

Mpigi had its share of shoppers in the much smaller market place. We hurried through the town and on to a wide dirt road. I remembered this as a much smaller road, and Michael confirmed that it had been widened just before the election last year! Although wider, it was still unbelievably bumpy and we rattled through the dust filled morning until we reached a tiny track. It was actually only two tire tracks turning out into the jungle. Vincent plunged into the ruts barely clearing the grass growing between them. We went down to a small creek which was a bit out of banks due to the soon ending rainy season then began a climb straight up one of the steep hills we’d been seeing from the highway.

There is nothing quite like going 4-wheeling in a 14 passenger van! We rocked and rolled and scraped and clawed up the soft ruts. We almost slid sideways several time when we dropped into unexpected puddles. But we finally cleared the top of the hill and turned onto a not much wider road running along the side of the hill. The church was just ahead.

Pastor Jimmy from Kafuma had done even more with the church than last time. New flowers lined the narrow parking strip. He had increased the size of the garden behind the church by about 25% and replanted the patch with sweet potatoes and beans. He had moved his dry rice to a brand new patch nearer the road. Inside, the metal building was decorated with flowers and construction paper chains.

We started with tea, but Joseph warned us that it had come from a local cow so we took water instead. We looked around while the others finished their tea, then started presbytery. We had a brief time of worship, then it was time to begin.

I would expect that prior to today, if you asked Jim what he liked least in the world, he would tell you committee meetings. I’m pretty sure after today, he would say, “committee meetings conducted in another language.” It does take much longer to plow through an agenda when some of the people in the group speak very, very little English. Every word must be translated, and there seemed to be much more discussion. Jim sat with us for a while then moved over to the concrete stage and stretched out. In no time, he was sound asleep! Mr. Jim, the sleeping presbyter!

Even though it moved slowly, the meeting was a moving experience. The presbytery has only been in existence for two years. Accountability like this is a new thing for these presbyters, but they understand the need for accountability and cooperation and they are working so very hard to make this work. And it IS working! They have established funds which will be used to establish microfinance projects and another to help rural pastors when members face major needs. This kind of sharing is very exciting, and it is great to be a part of it!

We broke for lunch at 1:00. The women of the congregation had slaved all day in a tiny brick structure squatting over charcoal fires in what must have been at least 100 degree heat. And the food was actually quite good. We had matoki, but it was less pasty than most. I covered mine with g-nut sauce, a brownish, muddy concoction made from a nut that seems identical to the peanut. There were wonderful avocados and Jimmy’s sweet potatoes. And there was a green that was similar to spinach that I have never eaten before. It was a very good lunch!

Jon and I went for a walk down the narrow dirt road beside the church. There were several kinds of wild flowers along the way: a tiny bright yellow flower with a brighter red flower in the middle, blue flowers, red flowers, and purple flowers. We turned around and saw Pastor Jimmy hurrying to met us. Jim had told us about a dog he’d seen, so Jimmy took us to meet it. The dog was absolutely scared to death of white people! It kept trying to run away.

We went across the road to Jimmy’s house. On a subdivision sized piece of land, Jimmy was raising mango and bananas. He had a goat and two pigs, as well as a number of chickens. We looked at his domain, then he took us inside to meet his new son. The baby was lying alone in the dark front room of his mud house. All but its head was covered with a wool blanket. He was sleeping soundly, and though tiny, appeared healthy.

Last year, Jimmy had asked me to come to Kafuma and visit in the homes of each of his elders. He had said he would take me on his boda boda, and even still, I had planned to go. My unexpected departure, however, prevented me from this frightening fate. As we walked back to the church with Jimmy, he asked if I was coming this trip. I explained that since presbytery required two trips to his church, it wouldn’t be possible in the short time I had for us to come back a third time. I told him, however, if there was time at the end of one of the days, we would be honored to visit these homes.

One last item of business: Jon spoke about salvation and other related doctrines. He did a great job explaining things in a way our audience could understand. In the middle of his teaching, there was a sudden crash on top of the metal roof of the church, then a slow roaring roll as something came down the slope of the roof and fell to the ground. The elders from Kafuma talked among themselves, but no one got up to check.

When Jon finished, we quickly said our goodbyes and loaded the van. Two of our passengers remained at Kafuma, so we were much less crowded in the van. There had been several brief showers, and the day had remained quite pleasant. We asked Jim where he had been all afternoon. “Oh, I listened to Jon a little bit, but I mostly sat outside with a boy named Richard and we listened to my Ipod. Oh, by the way, did you all here anything strange during Jon’s talk?’

Jim, over the protests of his new friend, had hurled a huge rock onto the roof of the building “just to wake everybody up!”

The ride down the steep trail was even more exciting than the ride up because the grade kept pushing us to go faster down the hill. The little bit of rain made the trail more slippery, and there was more water at the bottom of the ridge line. But Vincent pulled us through!

We hurried back to the guesthouse. We were actually home by 6:00, so we said our goodbyes and went to the dining room after a brief nap. We were the only guests. I ordered chicken curry, Jon ordered some sort of steak, and Jim ordered French toast. Although it looked like no French toast we’d ever seen and there was no maple syrup for it, Jim’s dish was best. Mine looked scary: two smallish pieces of contorted chicken in a reddish brown gravy. The sauce was good, but I’ll pass on the chicken next time!

I got back in the room in time to almost catch up the blog! Then, to sleep. We had power all night, so I slept reasonably well.