Joy to the world!!

Christmas here was just wonderful! Honestly, I’m pretty homesick and missing family and traditions that I’ve never missed before, but made a bunch of new traditions and enjoyed traditions that others recreate here. Christmas Eve I spent the whole day cooking and baking (hobbies that I love and that take on whole new challenges here!) then Beckie and I spent the evening at Bobby and Rachel’s with their new son and a few Ugandan friends. We talked, laughed, played a few games and of course ate! Rachel did a wonderful job preparing a meal that clearly both the Americans and Ugandan’s liked a lot. She also prepared a white elephant gift exchange with fun, eatable items.  The Ugandan’s had never played anything like it and we all were laughing by the end.  Christmas morning came early with a 5 am skype call to the family. Aunts, Uncles, cousins and friends were all at my parent’s house and the internet was working really well (Thank you Lord!) so we talked for nearly an hour and a half. It was a really nice way to start the day. By 7 am I was back to cooking then around 9 Betty arrived and we all headed to church. Beckie and I had been told that church would start at 9 sharp but we know better so arrived at about 20 after. We were the first to arrive.  After sitting until about 9:45 with still no one else around we let Betty talk us into going to another church. We missed most of the worship but it was good to be with others who were celebrating.  Abella has malaria, so after leaving church we stopped at her home to wish her family a Merry Christmas (and make sure she was taking her meds and not getting too dehydrated!).  Then over to Shaarda’s for the team party. We spent the whole rest of the day together eating, playing games, eating, opening presents, eating, talking, laughing and a little more eating- several of my favorite foods were there.  We sang a few Christmas carols together and the words stood out to me so much this year. Maybe it’s because here we don’t hear them on the radio, in stores, and in church, every day of December (or hardly at all) or maybe it is just because God is helping me look at Christmas with new eyes but these words were precious to me this year.  

No more let sins and sorrows grow,
Nor thorns infest the ground;
He comes to make His blessings flow
Far as the curse is found.

He rules the world with truth and grace,
And makes the nations prove
The glories of His righteousness,
And wonders of His love.

I pray that your Christmas was also filled with friends and family, old and new traditions and that you could see where God has made his blessings flow in your life with His truth, grace and wondrous love! 

A little nursing for Christmas!

On Christmas eve I was called by a woman who I often see at the hospital. She is blind, in her mid 60's and her ministry is to do what she can to help families and people in the hospital. She is really a neat lady. Anyway, she called me Christmas eve, told me she had a woman who was really bad and could I please come help? I didn’t really understand her, they were already at the hospital but I trust this lady and if she was asking me to come, I would. I was up to my elbows cooking for Christmas but I turned the stove off, tossed my medical bag in the car and headed to Soroti hospital. I came upon a huge crowd outside. I parked the car a little ways away and walked in, looking for my friend. She was near the back sitting on the ground with a woman lying next to her. A white person is like immediate entertainment so within seconds it seemed 400 people were watching us.  I asked what was going on and all I got was that the nurses were leaving for Christmas so the patients were being kicked out of the hospital and this lady needed help getting somewhere to spend the night. What!?  There were no doctors to be seen anywhere, only patients and their families milling around outside. I was getting more and more attention by the second so I decided we had to get out of there and figure out what to do later. In the process of getting these two ladies to my car it became evident that the patient was in labor. Awesome.  My house is only a few minutes from the hospital so we headed there. I unloaded my blind friend and the patient, who’s name I learned was Helen, sat in the shade in my yard. I got the rest of the story. She was from a village 25 minute’s drive away, 8 months pregnant. She had been vomiting her whole pregnancy but worse in the last month. She was really skinny except for her protruding belly.  She started having abd pain (very different from her first 5 pregnancies/labors) and went to the hospital. She says they did nothing for her. I did some hydration there in the shade of my front yard and meds for nausea. Within a short time she was eating rice and saying the pain was decreasing but still coming in waves. Good FHTs and no bleeding or discharge.  We decided instead of brining her back to the village she could go to my blind friend’s house and they could call me if anything changed. I encouraged them to keep on with the bland foods and I supplied them with lots of ORS (oral rehydration solution) and took them to her house. I heard a little bit ago today that the contractions went away and she went back to her other kids in the village but this system drives me nuts. How many people died or suffered un-necessarily because nurses were refusing to work on Christmas?! Yikes!

(Thanks to all my nursing friends who had to leave their families to work the holiday!) 

Merry Christmas from Uganda!

Just too funny not to share. Merry Christmas!

Last minute Christmas shopping

Here it is Christmas Eve and no Christmas posts from me! Shameful. So in finally getting into the spirit of things, here is a little taste of the holidays around Soroti.

I promised that I would help Betty give her grandmother (and only caregiver) a chicken for Christmas.  Little side note here- a chicken is a great, appreciated gift to give. It is a “ready” meal. Or you keep it fresh, aka alive, and it produces eggs for a while or, in Beckie and I’s case occasionally, you can re-gift it easily.

Anyway, yesterday Betty and I headed to Arapi market to pick out a nice fat chicken, which for them will be Christmas dinner. Arapi market is market held every Thursday about 8 kilometers out of Soroti town. For those who live in surrounding villages it is THE PLACE to get anything you could need for the week from soap and vegetables, to cows and dishes. That being said, this past Thursday was like the last shopping day before Christmas and the  market was the fullest I’ve ever seen it. Here a just a few pictures to give you a taste of holiday shopping Soroti style!

Here is some passion fruit, honey and tamarind for any of you holiday cooking needs.

Many in Soroti eat turkey on December 25th (but good luck getting one around November 25^th!) 

The market was over flowing with people. Even at 10 am the sun was pounding down and the dust was thick in the air. But that wasn’t slowing shoppers down at all. 

This woman was selling fresh cold passion fruit juice. I was really tempted until I remembered it could possibly be made with swamp water. Then I also saw it was sold by the cup. You purchase, she fills the cup and hands it to you. You drink it down and hand the cup back. Then she fills the same cup for the next customer. “Mam, it looks really nice but I’ll need to pass this time.”

You could get a basket to carry all of your good deals home in. 

You could get a fresh water pot.

You can get “new” Christmas clothes.These and so many more wonderful things could be yours on Soroti’s black Friday. 

Just for any who were wondering, Betty picked out a very fine roster that will easily feed all of them and me, well, I came home with all of these pictures. 

Getting hotter....

It seems to be getting hotter and drier every day here. Josh put a thermometer outside the other day and recorded 110 degrees in the sun. And that sun bakes the ground. The comes the dust and hot winds. Today even my teeth feel dusty.

Just too hot...

Cooler in the shower

Bribes, border crossings and boda rides

I think this is just one of those days that needs to be experienced to be believed.  But I’m going to try to describe it for you anyway. 

I have a Ugandan visa which allows me to stay in the country. It is still a tourist visa so it has to be renewed then repurchased every three and six months respectively.  I had purchased one when I re-entered after being in Kenya with Tim. So I just needed to renew this time. But I knew the guy who is supposed to stamp it may not be there and he is a power hungry individual who likes to jerk us around. So it may not be quite that straight forward.  Anyway, left this morning around 9:00 and drove with the Kaisers the 1.5 hours to Mbale. Headed into his office. The first thing out of his mouth is “Are you the one that refused to pay my family’s hospital bill?” What?! Then I realized that he was talking about Daniel Kaiser who had been into this immigration office a few days back. He had been told that the official wasn’t there because he had family in the hospital but if he needed him to come in then he could pay the bills. 

Anyway, I wasn’t going to pay any hospital bills to get him to stamp my passport. I told him that (slightly more tactfully) and he became solemn.  “Look here” he said. “You are two months expired.”  He was just blowing smoke but he was mad that I wasn’t paying the bribe and he wasn’t going to make things easy for me. He pointed to some illegible writing on the top of the visa sticker and told me it said 30 days, not 90 and that I had to go to the main office in Kampala and get it straightened out because I was in the country illegally. I asked if he couldn’t just stamp it, how much I would appreciate it, (I was spreading it on pretty thick) but nothing. He just kept looking at the passport, looking at me. Waiting for me to break down and pay him something.  No dice, I wasn’t paying.  I walked out, waited for the Kaisers to try to get their stamp (they didn’t pay the bribe either and he only gave them 1 month instead of 3) then I walked back in. He asked me “did you find something in your pocket for me?” I said no, I was just wondering if he thought I could go anywhere else besides Kampala.  Jerk, I’m not paying you!

So, I decided that I was this far, I would continue to the border, leave Uganda for Kenya and come back in to get a new visa. So, I hunted down a tolerable bathroom, got rid of my skirt in exchange for some pants and hoped on a motorcycle boda to the taxi park where I found one headed to Mulaba with only 19 other people inside and crammed in. Then the three closest to the door got back out, pushed until the clutch popped and the van shook itself to life. The road was one of the worst Ugandan roads I’ve been on yet and I’m so glad I didn’t have a lunch to lose.  I felt quite hot and sick but the ride was only about an hour and a fourth five minutes with all of the stops to let people off and cram more in. Once in Mulaba I found a boda bike to take me to the border crossing.  I filled out the card, waited in line in the crowded tiny office and got stamped out. I hoped back on the boda and he drove me over the border to Kenyan Immigration. I filled out their card and stood in line. Got to the front and began getting the third degree. No, I’m not staying in Kenya. Yes, I want to go back to Uganda. No, I don’t have a muli-entry, that is why I’m here. He accused me of abusing Kenya just to get a Ugandan visa. I explained I was paying $25 to enter Kenya but wouldn’t use any of their services so they were getting a good deal. He didn’t find me humorous. He said he wouldn’t permit me entry. Then he just looked at me.  Ummmm, I think this is where I’m supposed to offer to pay him. I just continued to stand there. He reached around me for the next person’s papers. I waited him out and eventually he stopped trying to work around me and left his post. He came back with his superior who brought me into his office. This new man reviewed my passport again, commenting on the Kenyan and Ugandan visas. He asked me if I’ve left east Africa at all in the last 9 months.  He then told me that I’m supposed to leave East Africa every 6 months. This is boloney and I told him I know many people who don’t leave east Africa that often. He said they are in violation and they should all be fined just like he should fine me now.  A million Kenyan Shillings. ($1,200 USD)  By this point I'm getting a headache. Sir, what do you suggest I do?  He said I should go to Sudan.  Excuse me?! I’m here now. How am I supposed to even get to Sudan if you don’t let me in or out?! What kind of suggestion is that? I apologized that I had not left East Africa.  I then explained that I know I need to get a work visa and stop using a tourist visa but that takes time and my NGO doesn’t have the necessary paperwork yet. Can’t he just give me the Kenyan visa so I can go back over and get the Ugandan visa and I can go away and stop bothering him? He didn’t find me humorous either.  So I left his office. Now what? Can’t get into Kenya. Have been stamped out of Ugadan and don’t have a legit visa to re-enter. I got back on the boda and we headed back over to the Uganda side with me praying that they just give me what I need even if I don’t have anything else. My prayers were interrupted by UPDF (Ugandan military.) He asked me to step over to the side of the road and asked me what I was doing. Ummmm….I’m stuck between the Kenyan and Ugandan borders, what do you think I’m doing? Nope, I kept it together better that that and answered his many questions politely. Essentially “No, I’m not a terrorist.”  Then he asked to see my yellow card.  Is that like a green card? If so where can I get one? Yellow card, yellow card, I’m thinking fast but I don’t know what he’s talking about. I start to think that here is one more person that I don’t have the right paper work for. His English isn’t great but finally I get it, he wants my yellow fever immunization record. I’ve been in the country 9 months and no one has ever asked to see it. But there is a first time for everything and amazingly I have it with me. He takes less than a two second glance at it and waves me away.  At least he didn’t ask for a bribe. Back at the Ugandan immigration office. My palms are sweaty and I’m pretty sure before the day is out I’m going to vomit. I just need this guy to be nice. I pass him my passport, the $50 for the visa and the papers. Then the questions begin. Why so long in Uganda? Why no work permit? What do I do? Who do I work for?  I really shouldn’t be allowed back in. He takes my $ and my passport into a back room where some conversations in Swahili commence. I wait, and wait and wait. I want to pause here to say that it is probably 95 degrees outside, hotter in this crowded room.  I’m tired, nauseated, and let’s face it I stink. I’m not sure where I’ll be sleeping tonight. Finally he comes back. He hands me my passport, stamps the receipt and hands me that too.  No eye contact at all. I shove them in the top of my backpack, thank him and push my way out.  The boda driver is still sitting there. “We go?” Yep, take me back to the taxi park.  He peddles me there then says I owe him 20,000 shillings for all he has done, waiting and taking me back and forth. Listen dude. You don’t want to mess with me right now. At least not until after I have a cold coke.  I know that 20,000 nearly two weeks wages. Here is 5,000 now get out of my face. I find a taxi with only 12 people in it that is headed back to Mbale. I get squeezed into my place in the back. Then sit. We are waiting on a few more so that we can be more cozy, the taxi isn’t full enough yet to go. I can’t think of a worse place to sit than in the hot sun, in a van, in the middle of a dusty taxi park. Unless, it is a van that already has 12 other bodies in it. To fill my time I pull my passport back out. I flip though. I can’t find the stamp. No new stamps with today’s date. Kenya refused and I never actually saw Uganda’s. I page though again slowly. Then one more time. Ugh. Seriously? I pull the receipt out. My $50 is on there. Today’s date. My name. No length of visa issued. Practically nothing else written on it. I actually laid my head down on the bench top in front of me and fell asleep. Dozed most of the way back to Mbale.  Kaisers were waiting for me there. (Thanks so much guys for waiting it out!) Back to Soroti. I know that I need to be making a plan.  Do I need to drop everything and head to Kampala? But I’m dreading that.  I’ve seen immigration there and it is a worse nightmare than the two places I’ve been today. Do I just wait until after Christmas when officials are more likely to be in their offices?  Possibly less likely to be looking for a little something extra from me when the holidays are past? I can’t make any decisions.   We arrive back in Soroti at nearly 6:30.  I tossed the offending passport on the table and told Beckie the whole saga. She flipped through it and said- right here- three months. Sure enough.  Thank you Lord for answering the prayers of many even when I didn’t think you did. It was a long day and I’m tired now. I’m not looking forward to doing it all again in 3 months. 

Immigration

This is just a quick post to let you know I’m still here. We have really crummy internet right now and power less than 50% of the time. As a matter of fact as I write this I’m sitting in candle light praying that the internet is still working when I’m done writing and ready to post.

I had a wonderful birthday a few days ago and received some really neat gifts.  A pair of gum boots which look GREAT with my skirts I have to admit, an ostrich egg, a cattle prod (used to treat snake bites),  chocolate and a really cute cake with me and a crocodile on it. Pictures will follow soon.

The biggest reason that I’m fighting with the internet right now for 30 seconds of uninterrupted service is that I have a prayer request. My visa expires on the 25^th of this month. The work of government officials, which is poor at best,  seems to craw to a standstill in the days leading up to Christmas. I figured I would go on the 27^th but was told that there was no chance immigration will be open then. So I’m about to rush to Mbale tomorrow praying the whole way. But I’ve already been told that the official won’t be there so I’ll need to continue on to Kenya. I think Beckie is heading to Kenya tomorrow also (she is currently on a retreat with girls) and one other American family also needs their visas renewed.  Can you pray for all of us and the paperwork we need to stay in the country? As Uganda’s elections get closer and closer they get stranger and stranger about letting us stay here.  There are many things we want to be doing right now and sitting in immigration disagreeing with people isn’t one of them.  Anyway, so that’s what I’ll be up to tomorrow. Lazaro and his little broken leg will wait until Tuesday.  You can pray for that too. I am not looking forward to that trip either. 

Femur fracture and mental circles

I went out to see Lazaro again the other day. Dad and the brothers had fixed his chair so I wanted to take it back to him and see how his family is doing. He was in the hut again when I arrived (I hate it when they leave him in there alone!  I suspect that sometimes entire days go by when he is never taken out to sit with his family and be a part of whatever is going on.  Makes me mad….anyway.) His mother went inside to get him but didn’t come out right away. I went inside to see and once my eyes adjusted to the dark I could see he was in rough shape. He is really pale again and more lethargic than before (is that even possible?!) It was a little complicated but eventually I got that a few days ago he had been stepped on in the night by one of his siblings. (When the whole family sleeps together on the floor of a hut that isn’t any bigger than my bedroom and has no light this isn’t terribly surprising.) He clearly has a high femur fracture. I suspect it is even displaced but his bones are already so malformed that it is hard to tell. The whole top half of his little leg is rock hard and hot to the touch. He cried and cried when I touched it. I asked his mother what she does when he has a broken bone and she says she just waits. So I gave a bottle of children’s Tylenol, a whole bunch of children’s multivitamins and promised to come back with milk. But I can’t stop thinking about it. Is that really the best I can do?!  I thought about splinting somehow but his little leg is already so crooked and the break is close to his hip I don't know how to begin. Traction is out of the question for so many reasons and I’ve yet to find a doctor within two hour’s drive who will do anything for him, without even discussing surgery. So maybe that is the best I can do. Comfort measures. But then I think- I only gave Tylenol. If I was serious about comfort shouldn’t I give something stronger? But is that even safe where I suspect he goes hours without being checked on? Then I’m back to thinking about taking him with me. I could nurse him back to health and work on development for a while and get him feeding himself, but then what? Back home where his bones will only continue to get broken. So taking him out of his home isn’t the solution either.  Round and round I go…

Which leads into another mental circle that I travel- I feel like I've quit on these kids. Really, Lazaro is the only one I visit right now. I went to Karamoja for several weeks then to Kenya for a few more weeks and I didn't follow up with any of the other handicapped kids for more than two months. That door kind of slid closed and I let it.  I would come home from spending the day in the villages with them so depressed and discouraged and frustrated and angry.  It was hard work and not stuff I'm good at. I've never done nursing care with kids, let alone chronically ill, mentally and physically handicapped kids. But now I feel so guilty. Didn't I do exactly what I was trying to discourage these kids' parents from doing?! Caring for these kids is hard work but we can't quit!  Then I try to remind myself that I think God is calling me to something else. That I didn't really quit. But I did. I'm tired tonight. Time to be done wandering in circles...

Banana Bread

One of the projects that my dad and brothers spent hours on while they were here was designing and making a wood fired oven. This was a big priority for me because the girls have pretty much mastered making banana bread but they are still dependent on me and my oven. I would really like to get it so that they can make bread when they need the money and begin to take ownership over the whole project. Besides I have tried and tried to help them understand the profit/cost part of it and they really still don't get it. So I think I just have to give them the money, have them purchase their own flour, eggs, bananas, etc and let them struggle a little so they start to understand. I hate the thought of losing money and them being unsuccessful but I think they really need to just learn it that way and in the long run they will be more successful because they will know what I'm trying to teach first hand.  

 

But back to the oven. It was successful! I have a lovely outdoor oven in my front yard now. The girls made 6 batches of banana bread and we only burned two loaves of the 8 or so that were made. They are better at keeping the fire at an even heat than me. They sell everything they make easily, the market is clearly there, and people really like what they make. I have high hopes for the future of this project but I kind of need your help. The oven that we made to experiment with and learn from is in my yard so doesn't solve the independence problem. I would really like to build two more at the girl's homes. Betty and Abella live near each other and work well together so I'm sure one oven at Abella's home will work well. Dorcus lives on the other side of town and also has shown a lot of interest and clearly has the need. I'm sure that the income that Dorcus generates will feed her grandmother and several siblings so I'd also like to build an oven there. Between the cement, bricks, welded box that goes inside and and other odds and ends like hinges one oven cost around $50.00. Add to that I'll need to purchase pans, a few other necessary items that the girls don't have from Kampala, the principle for several batches to help them get started and it is a little costly to help them get this project off the ground. Are you willing to help? I know this a time of the year when many places are asking for your money but Betty, Abella and Dorcus don't need much and I know that this will make a difference in their lives. I still have some things to figure out, like where they can keep their supplies so that they won't be stolen. And I also have to remember that these girls are only kids. But all three need money for school and this is better than a hand out.

Making a wood fired oven

The guys made me really proud of them with the wood oven that they made. Most of the people who live in and around Soroti cook over fire (very few have electricity or use gas) so few understand the idea of an oven. But I needed a way to make bread on a small scale using wood or charcoal. The guys designed and made one using only resources that we can get in Soroti so that it is something I can reproduce. They drew pictures and took them to a local welder. Then they constructed the cement frame that surrounds the metal box to hold heat and give a place for the fire. I don't know about you but it impressed me.

The bottom layer. Fire wood on top of the bars, ash falls through.

Next on- the iron plate to redistribute the heat of the fire.

The inner chamber. The heat of the fire is forced around the walls to heat the box evenly.

Setting the top on.



Firing it up for the first time.

Elim- street boys home

So a few more pictures have surfaced from our day working with the street boys (Thanks Rachel for sharing!). I enjoy these pictures because I really think these boys had a fun time and got something out of it. Language was a barrier and it was only a short afternoon but it was well worth the time.

Just a few adventures

So for the last few days of the boy's visit to Uganda we left Soroti and made the journey back to Kampala to find some adventure. I'm really tempted to just post pictures from those days and let them tell you the story... so I'm going to.

Yep, it was like that.

So many things done!

I dropped the guys off at the airport last night. While looking back over the past three weeks and I'm so impressed with how much stuff Dad and the brothers accomplished. They made it so the generator will run the fridge. They fixed the bathroom door.  We now have a back up water tank that collects rain water from the roof. They improved the water pressure from the city by cleaning out all the pipes. We now have a chicken coop (that is hopefully “monitor lizard proof”). And that is just at my house. At team members home's they fixed many plumbing problems, installed a sink, tried to fix a ceiling fan, hung a door,  fenced in a deep pit, ran internet cables (across the road to the resource room- which was really a big project as they had to set the pole first), ran power to a place that we can show movies to the neighbors, did maintenance on at least three vehicles and fixed several problems on them. They completely reworked the chair that Lazaro sits on so that it is repaired and now adjusts so that he can lay back or sit up straighter. They fixed at least 5 different bikes. They made benches with the kids at the street kids home. They fixed a pipe at the blind home. I'm sure I'm forgetting a bunch of other little projects that they did but you can see the variety. Pretty cool. THANKS GUYS!!! You are welcome to come back anytime even if you don't work so hard. I'm so glad you got to join life with me here for a while even if it was for a short time. 

Things I'm learning

*Post from Nick*

So I have now spent two weeks in Uganda and I’ve decided to take some time and share some of the things that I have learned in my time in this place.

1. There is an age where it is okay to swim in the swamps around the Soroti naked.

2. I learned I am not that age.

3.  A dirt road has 0 traffic rules. Literally 0. None. Not a single rule. Do what you want. 

4.  I learned the difference between a speed bump, a speed hump and a speed plateau.

5.    I learned how many Ugandans it takes to tip a car off a speed plateau after it has gotten stuck.   

6.    I learned why you only bring one bucket to the bore hole to carry water. It has to do with the number of heads you have to carry it on.

7.    I learned about the art of balance. Picture a 4 seat bike. 1 driver 3 passengers. The goal is make sure you balance out the kids so they don’t throw off the weight distribution.

8.  I learned who has the right of way at a Ugandan intersection. In this order:

-Cows: They are big and if you hit them Ugandan boys get really upset with you.

-Kids that herd cows: really its just not a good idea. Cows are big and these kids have some crazy control over these cows.

-Goats, chickens, children and any other pedestrian: this is the right of way that just levels the playing field. Evens up everyone’s odds.   

-Motor cycle boda: They are agile and much faster than their bicycle counterparts.

-Bicycle boda: A little more dangerous cause they don’t move real quick.

-Traffic going perpendicular to you.        

-Opposing traffic in your lane: Enough said.

-Opposing traffic in their lane.

-Anything bigger than you.

-You.

10.   You will find no more beautiful stars in all of the world.

11.  Driving on the side of the road may offer a smoother ride due to the lack of potholes where the was never any asphalt.

12.  It really isn’t thanksgiving without American football. Even with a bunch of missionaries. Fantastic wonderful missionaries. Truly fantastic missionaries. They just aren’t that great at football. Actually really pretty bad.

13.   There is no more authentic and powerful worship services than those held in an unfinished building on plastic chairs and wooden benches on a dirt floor with no sound system other than the hands of the congregation, a wooden table that tips with the uneven floor, however like every church there is the discussion of who will start each song during the service and not to mention the translator who is translating English and iteso and it varies depending on what language the pastor spoke the sentence before.

14.   I learned it really does take a village.

15.   I discovered how many Ugandan boys fit in a Toyota Corolla. 20. I'm pretty sure there were at least 20 boys in that car.

16.   There is no iteso word for potato so they call a normal potato Irish. I discovered I am offended they aren’t called Idaho.

17.   There are so many more uses for old tires:

-Straps (to hold anything on your bike like charcoal, sugar cane, papyrus, lemons, kids).

-Sandals.

-Belts.

I'm sure I've learned much more but the lessons just haven't sunk in yet. 

Dinner on the top of the rock

 We ate dinner together on the top of Ocholi roch last night. Hiking in Africa is always a bit of an adventure. Hotdogs never tasted so good.