One minute south of the equator...

This is just a quick picture of where I'm staying for the next few days.

You wouldn't be sitting inside blogging either.

I'll post again in a few days.

Always an adventure around here....

I'm getting my fill of adventure lately. I've been taking public transportation for the last week in and around Jinga. Here that doesn't exactly mean what it means in developed countries. It means that when the boda driver dumped us both off of the motorcycle and pinned us beneath it I still pay the same price and I'm covered in mud.. It means I pack much lighter than usual because the bus is possibly packed over capacity.


I finally got reconnected with my car yesterday but Beckie wasn't feeling well so I had my first opportunity to drive in Kampala. (Does anyone have any valium that they would like to donate for the next time that needs to happen?) We didn't have our sleeping accommodations arranged and it isn't like you just find a nice Holiday Inn. But we managed to find a safe place (though they charged us WAY too much!) So today we are back without a car as it needs a few days with the mechanic to make up for the rough time that Beckie and I have put it through. We are back on public transport in this crazy city (Kampala) and I'm only bleeding a little from the half hour this morning on the boda. We met a nice lady and we are staying with her family tonight. (When does that happen in the states?!) Then tomorrow night we are pitching Beckie's tent in a “camp-ground” that hasn't seen tents in about seven years. Always an adventure around here....

Nile

Highlight of the week? Swimming in the Nile every afternoon.

I'm not really trying to rub it in that I'm having a better fall than you. I'm just trying to console myself that I'm missing my favorite time of the year in Michigan.

This is a pretty dang good way to console myself.

Anyone feeling abandoned? Rejected?

Neglected? Hurt?

How about just a little unloved? 

Take a second to check this out.

A Love Letter

Well worth your time. Just take a minute and let God speak.

 Really.

Do it.

You will be glad you did.

Best 6 minutes of your day. I promise.

From your Father

I guess I'm staying

I've had the thought more than once in the past few weeks that maybe I should just head back to Michigan. I could go back to be near my family, back to work at Saint Mary's, be good at my job again. Know my role and be content. I'm a little home sick honestly and struggling with what I do here. I'm having a little trouble trusting Jesus with my heart and my time.

Yesterday evening, sitting on the bank of the Nile, honestly not thinking about that. Just resting in the Lord and remembering why I trust Him. I opened my eyes and saw a little brown and white monkey sitting in the bush less than two feet from my face. It struck me that I don't want to give up this adventure- not the Nile and monkeys part of the adventure, though that is fun. But just this daily need to rely on God. To trust Him in EVERYTHING is such an adventure.  In Grand Rapids it is far too easy to rely on myself and my own skills. I don't really like the daily reminders here that I'm so inadequate, ill equipped and unequal to the challanges. But everyday I offer all that I am. And that is enough.

So Dad, I miss you. Izaac, I wish I could be around you as you grow up. Lyle, I'd love to to be working 2nd shift again. But sorry guys. This is where I'm staying.



Mto Moyoni- At Jesus' Feet

I'm currently staying at Mto Moyoni again. It is a great place of rest and peace. I knew I needed it but I guess I didn't realize how much.   

My "room" is in the upper right corner of this picture.



I don't know if song lyrics speak to anyone else but this song has been speaking to me.  Casting Crowns - At Your Feet.

Jesus, at your feet.

There is no where else for me.

Oh to dwell and never leave.

Here at your feet I lay my past down.

My wanderings, all my mistakes down.

And I am free

Here at your feet I lay this day down.
Not in our strength but in yours Lord,
All I need. 

Here at your feet I lay my future down. All of my dreams I give to you now.

And I find peace.

Abo

Many of you came to an "authentic ugandan dinner" while Beckie and I were fundraising. I have to come clean with something though. The dinner wasn't all that authentic. One of the dishes we served was Abo. It was made with Jiff peanut butter and spinach from the freezer section in Meijer. Here is how abo is actually made: 

  Step 1: G-nuts (ground nuts, very similar to peanuts) are grown here and harvested at the end of the rainy season.

Step 2:The nuts all have to be separated from the plant- by hand.










 Step 3: Then shelled- by hand.



  Step 4: Then mashed- by hand of course.

 

  Step 5: Then ground it between two rocks- by hand. And if not done carefully you can lose just a little skin off of your knuckles. It gets pretty slippery.

  This little cutey is Helen's daughter Ruth. (Helen is the woman that we have hired so that Beckie and I have clean clothes once in a while and so Helen has a little income.) She got to have a little taste. Helen didn't let us taste at this step.



  Steps 6-14: The leaves of the abo plant have to be picked, cleaned and sorted. (And any little bugs taken off!)



  Step 15: Then boil it all together. Enjoy!
Don't forget to gather the firewood, get the water from the bore hole, and a whole variety of other things that I've forgotten to include. And this meal isn't any more work than any other meal Helen has to prepare every day to keep her family fed.



 Don't worry, next time I make Abo for you it will be much more authentic! I know you are looking forward to it...



Updates-

Whoa- feeling a little overwhelmed! I owe all of you wonderful supporters an update letter, but I need to write it first. I have several blog posts just waiting for the words and time. And I have a stack of cards that need to get in the mail but I should write something in them first. Then I look ahead to these next few weeks and I'm just not sure when that is going to happen...
But back up-
Josh is doing really well. He seems pretty much back to normal, just a few pounds lighter. His color is back to normal and he is eating again.
David is still having some troubles and I'm not sure what else to do for him but he is hanging in there.
In a few hours I head to Jinga for the rest of the week. Then Beckie and I will travel on to Kampala for a few days to get some much needed work (and a roof rack!) on our car then to the airport to pick up her parents then on to our team retreat in Entebee then finally back to Soroti. I plan to be back in my home around November 2nd.
So for those of you who faithfully follow-thank you! I will try really hard to keep posting.
Here are a few prayer requests for the week:

I need to give credit to Steve T. for this picture.
It was taken near the Nile.

• I'm feeling really run down and sick myself. I've had a fever since saturday morning and am having a hard time keeping much food down. (I'm not sick enough for it to be malaria though!) 
• This week in Jinga is a pretty intensive time of seeking God called Transformation of the Heart.  I'm in need of some sweet time with my Lord so this could be a great time if I can put aside distractions and focus.
• I continue to wrestle with future ministry.....
• My dad and brothers arrive for a visit in 4 weeks! I'm so excited and am praying that God really blesses our time.

Ride for Refuge

Yesterday, Jillian, a Canadian friend who works for World Vision here in Soroti, and I, did the Ride for Refuge again. This time for the Ride that was taking place in Vancover, Hamilton and a few other cities. I'm sure our weather was warmer than theirs!

40 kilometers to the lake and back!

We did have to stop at the little bike repair shop again this trip but they were helpful, fast and the best 25 cents I've spent in a while!

We had a great time (though I was unfortunately a little feverish when I got back home) and next week they will be riding in Montreal....

I thought some of you medical types might find this funny- at least you would understand. Just a little glimpse of what life has been like for the past few days.



Night shift desk or My kitchen table at 6am.

BTW- The can is my sharps container there is no unit secretary to give me a hard time about leaving my stuff all over.   



Dear Mom,

*I wrote this e-mail to my mom a few minutes ago and realized that I the processing that I usually do in my blog I was doing in her e-mail. So I just copied it here. I know it is a little repetition from yesterday but a little more detail....my mom is also a nurse so sorry also for the nurse speak.
Hey Mom- sorry I woke you up the other night. It was good to talk if even for a few seconds. Honestly I was just really tired with two long nights behind me, up every two hours to keep Josh drinking and comfortable. The only thing I could think about was another two weeks ahead of us  like we'd just done with Tim.  Josh had been sleeping at our house for two days and then around 10pm the second night he walked out to where Beckie and I were sitting saying that he was now peeing blood. I knew he was getting progressively more dehydrated, been puking for two days and really not drinking much but when he said that my heart dropped- he was quite a bit worse than I was giving him credit for. Josh went to bed and Beckie and I sat and prayed. Of course we prayed for healing but Beckie also asked for wisdom and clear decisions. She asked for peace in those decisions. When we were done praying I really felt sure that I should just put in and IV, let Tim and Angie know what was going on and re-evaluate in the morning. So I headed in to wake Josh back up and Beckie to wake Tim. I tried for half an hour to get an IV in and I just couldn't do it- the veins just kept collapsing. Beckie didn't have any luck either as Tim and Angie were asleep for the night and not picking up. That made for a long night of waking Josh to drink to prevent any further damage and laying awake wondering if he was getting too sick to be in Soroti, if I shouldn't be doing something, anything, more.  
In the morning I got my hands on some phenergan so he could keep a little more fluids down and we switched his malaria meds to something stronger so it felt like we were on the right track.
And then I added another patient to the mix. I got a call that one of the former child soldiers, David, had collapsed out in the village and was unresponsive. I headed out to the village to figure out what was going on. (More about David later as I want to dedicate a whole post to his story)b but the short of it is he ended up at my house where I put a line in him (a lot easier than Josh!) and gave him some fluids and pain control. He spent the day sleeping on the couch while Josh spent the day sleeping in the guest room. I'm not sure either of them moved much.


Evening came and Josh was vomiting past the phenergan. Still not urinating enough and it was very bloody. I tried one more time to get an IV in without success. He was just too dry. I made some phone calls to figure out where we could go to find someone who could get ANY line in. The german nurse who worked at Amecet helped me get into the clinic they use at night for their little dehydrated babies. Josh was way miserable to get out of bed and over to the clinic but Stephanie was super helpful and within an hour we were back at home with a hep loc. Only to discover it was really positional and didn't want to flow well at all. And we were all tired, especially Josh. So I just hung the bag at a slow drip and tucked him in. At midnight it wasn't running but I flushed and re-positioned and managed the slow drip again. By one am had 500 cc in and a subcutaneous line. Ahhhhh!! I could have cried. He had gotten only half a liter when I had estimated he needed at least 3 liters, 4 by morning if he was still tolerating the high rate. Now I was back to making him drink but the only thing he could keep in was water and only small amounts at a time. Made for another very long night. When I called Angie at 7am it was all I could do to hold it together I was so discouraged and frustrated. This was day 5 of his malaria and he was only still getting sicker. His eyes were yellow from jaundice and I couldn't tell the difference between his urine and the tea I was drinking. The plan was quickly made that we needed to head to Kampala. That is when I lost it just a little and called you. Thanks for praying, listening and encouraging!
On our way out of town we stopped again at the clinic and got a new IV. This one flowed better so for the 5 hour drive to Kampala he got a liter of NS, 500cc of D5% and 500 cc of LR. God also made it so that we could pass through the roads that are closed right now due to the flooding. We were expecting that we would have to add more than an hour over rough roads if we would have had to go around but we were able to get through. We got in to see the doctor around 4pm who confirmed that we were on the right meds. She had some blood work done and tested his urine. Her report? He was pretty well hydrated and he was looking a lot perkier. If only those fluids had gone in 24 hours ago.... it is amazing what a difference enough water and a little sugar can make.


Well, I gave another liter last night through the night to stay caught up. He says he drank today while he rested all day at the guest house. He did vomit all of tonight's supper and his eyes are still a little yellow but I have seen him sipping without my prodding. I think Josh and I are headed back to Soroti in the morning. Tim and Angie will follow in a day or two. I'm really ready to sleep tonight without my alarm going to remind me to check a line, help someone to the bathroom, hang a new fluid bag, or encouraged intake.

Thanks again for being there when I called. I'll try really hard not to panic you again by calling in tears! :-) I hope things are going well and I love you!

Your favorite daughter,
Jennifer

I feel like a nurse again!

I've been really busy so sorry about the lack of posting. For the past several days I've had one of our short termers staying with me because he has a pretty bad case of malaria. Then on Tuesday I added another patient. David is a former child soldier who has had a very traumatic past (He has been stabbed, shot and nearly beaten to death when with the rebels). He has been sick and Monday night he called to say he was having pain that was uncontrollable (I'm thinking peptic ulcer). Tuesday morning we got a call from one of his friends saying that he had passed out and was writhing in pain. So a quick trip out to the village to pick him up. I brought him to the doctor who saw him last week but the doctor wasn't there. (No doctors in the clinic that day.) Back to my house. Pain control, IV hydration, I think that is about all he would have gotten at Dr. Engulu's place. Yesterday was day 5 of Josh's malaria with practically no improvement. We had changed meds but he was having persistent vomiting. He was quite dehydrated and then was urinating blood. Between these two it was enough to keep me busy. After a long night Monday night trying to keep Josh comfortable and slightly hydrated without success Tuesday morning the decision was made to bring him to Kampala for lab work and make sure we were moving in the right direction. So a 5 hour drive and 2 liters of IV fluid later we were back in Kampala. Dejavu! The good news is after a few hours of waiting to see a doctor and checking urine and blood work we got a good report. He was still a little dry and a little jaundice but the doctor was confidant that we could get on top of it. So this morning we're sitting in a guest house in Kampala. Josh hasn't been up yet so I'm not really sure how he is doing but I managed to give another liter of fluid in the night without waking him so I have high hopes for today.

One quick prayer request- I love being a nurse but there is something nice about giving report at the end of the shift and not thinking for a while. And it is easier to be the "bad guy" when someone nice will replace you in a few hours. A little harder to be the constant nurse for days at a time. Sorry Josh!
Once again I promise to post soon. I have a number of things that have been running around my head but I've been just a little too occupied to get it on paper. Sorry!!

Water

Another little glimps of life here in Soroti:
We collected enough rain water last night for a load of laundry but instead we will save it and use it as our drinking water. Beckie just showered and saved her water to flush the toilet. We are on full conserve mode because the city water pump (water is pumped out of the swamp up to the top of Soroti rock and flows from there down in to the city) fell into the swamp. We are speculating that because water levels are really high the ground under the pump house was eroded away and the whole thing fell in. We have heard that the pump can't be found. This will greatly extend the time that it takes it put it back and get it running again. To add insult to injury the high water levels have made the bridge that leads into Soroti potentially dangerous and they are not letting big trucks pass. This includes the petrol trucks and well, pretty much everything comes to Soroti in big trucks. Including a new pump. It is going to be an interesting couple of days! We still have a little city water in our tank but don't know how long it will last. Soon we may be going to the bore hole with everyone else to get out water....

Emam ngayeni ayong (I don't understand)

I've started learning Ngkaramojong! Though it makes me excited I've discovered I'm not a linguistic prodigy. I've been introduced to a woman named Helen who is to be my language helper. She is in 6th grade but she thinks she is 25 or 26 years old. Both of her parents were killed many years ago by k-jong raiders. She never started school as a child but she's been given a change now and she's taking it. She has lived in Soroti for nearly 10 years now. She teaches and talks quickly and I really have to work to keep up but I am looking forward to the challenge.

I like looking at films.....

I like looking at them but I'd rather someone else do the diagnosing. Anyone?

The Karamojong are coming!

When I was 9 years old, growing up in rural Kenya I still remember two separate nights that my parents woke my brothers and I up and had us grab our already packed bags.  We had to find our jeans quickly and get our shoes on. (I never got to wear jeans and shoes! Skirts and sandals mostly.) We were hushed and herded out of the house. The night guard was waiting to lead us into the dark, into the bush, away from our home. We hiked single file, as quietly as possible for what felt like a long time. The dark night made it seem longer so it really probably wasn't that far. Finally we slid down a bank into a sandy,dry river bed. Blankets were spread out and we laid down.
We lived with the Pokot people and occasionally the neighboring Karamojong tribe would come to raid them. We were possibly a target so as precaution we always had a small bag packed. By morning, both times we returned home, without problem and had a soda for breakfast. As a kid I don't remember being overly frightened. This was just something we had to do sometimes. Looking back on it as an adult I'm impressed how well my parents did to not convey what they must have been feeling.

But now, I've gone back and spent some time with the Karamojong. I continue to think and pray about living and working in Karamoja in the future I want to ask for your prayers also. There are many hurdles but the need is great. These people have not changed so much in the last 20 or even 100 years. They have a reputation for being brutal, uncivilized and violent. Years of issues have worked to create a dependancy culture and a sense of entitlement. But they are a tough, beautiful people who have been through so much. They are traped in true spiritual bondage that effects every aspect of life. I don't have much to offer them. But I have dedicated my life to serving a God that does have much to offer them. So I'll go.

Ave and Mo's fancy restaurant

The other day Beckie and I really wanted to give Tim and Angie a special, rest-full afternoon so we took their kids for a few hours. We also wanted them to be able to go out to a nice restaurant at the end of the day but Soroti really doesn't have anything like that. So we made them dinner ourselves and tried to transform the little room in our front yard into a nice place to eat. Their daughter Ave did much of the cooking with me and though Moses was not really interested in the cooking so much, he made a REALLY cute little waiter.

We all really had a fun time with the kids and look forward to doing it again some time.

Karamoja

Just doing a little reading on Karamoja (this is the region in Uganda about 5 hours from where I currently live that I feel I may be living and working in the future) and wanted to share a little of what I'm learning.

Child Trafficking

On certain days of the week, you can buy a Karamojong child at the cattle markets along the Uganda-Kenya border. Price: About $160. Destination: The child will probably be forced to beg on the streets of Kampala, perhaps being beaten throughout the day, because a crying child stirs the sympathy of bypassers more effectively. All earnings will go to the child's master, while the child will be forced to subsist in dismal and unsafe conditions.

The Karamoja Area

Karamoja is a desolate cattle raising area in the northeast corner of Uganda, bordering on Sudan and Kenya-- a vast plain, separated from the Kenya border by rugged mountains. The area is well-populated with about 846,000 people, which is 2 to 3% of the population of Uganda.

The Karamojong are a semi-nomadic cattle-raising people (and often a cattle-stealing people) who cling vehemently to their traditional ways. They are related to the Turkana and Masaai people across the Kenyan border and to other tribes in southern Sudan.

The Karamojong and Their Love Affair with Cattle
The Karamojong believe in “the divine right of cattle”, that is, they believe God has assigned all cattle in the world to them and they therefore have a God-given right to all cattle. Unfortunately, neighboring tribes in Kenya, also have the same conviction, leading to inevitable conflicts over cattle. There are almost as many cattle in some areas of Karamoja as there are people. Some crops are also raised, like some grains, sweet potatoes, cabbage, and beans. However, repeated shortage of rainfall in recent years has devastated this part of the economy, as well as one of the few industries—grain milling. Traditional Karamojong food consists of milk mixed with defibrinated blood, supplemented with meat from animals that died naturally, grain or beans.

Gospel to the Karamojong
Gospel witness to the Karamojong has been vastly insufficient. Much still remains to be done to reach the Karamojong. Evangelicals are less than 2% of the population, with the vast majority clinging to traditional religion.

I read about stuff like this and wonder if I really actually want to get involved?! This is hard crap to deal with!

Count the cost....

I've been journaling a little about "sacrifice" and "considering the cost". I'm sure that before too long those thoughts will turn themselves into a blog post or two but for now I'm just re-reading (and re-posting) what I've processed in the past.
*Posted 12/5/08* As I've been thinking on this cost thing... Here is something else I've read and want to share.   (Dr. Helen Roseveare in her book- Living Sacrifice. )

"Is there always a cost involved in responding to that insistent demand in our hearts to express to Him our love? Would I be willing to pay a cost if asked to do so? Do I believe that as my Saviors He has the right to demand such a response to His love if I would really love Him as He first loved me?


Momentarily I had felt this the night the rebel soldiers first took me captive. Beaten, flung on the ground, kicked- teeth broken, mouth and nose gashed, ribs bruised- driven at gunpoint back to my home, jeered at, insulted, threatened. I knew that if the rebel lieutenant did not pull the trigger of his gun and end the situation, worse pain and humiliation lay ahead. It was a very dark night. I felt unutterably alone. For a brief moment I felt God had failed me. He could have stepped in and prevented this rising crescendo of wickedness and cruelty. He could have saved me out of their hands. Why didn't He speak? Why didn't He intervene? And in desperation I cried out against Him: "It is too much to pay!"


Yet His love for me cost Him His life. He gave Himself, in that one all sufficient atoning sacrifice at Calvary. He so loved the world that He gave all. His sacrifice was the expression of His great love.


But His sacrifice had achieved something. He had saved lost mankind from their sins. What was I achieving by suffering brutality at the hands of rebel soldiers? If I died (which seemed probable and imminent) no one would even know of the suffering. What was being gained? God, why, why?

In the darkness and loneliness, He met with me. He was right there, a great wonderful and almighty God. His love enveloped me. Suddenly the "Why?" dropped away from me and an unbelievable peace flowed in, even in the midst of the wickedness. And He breathed a word into my troubled mind: the word privilege.


He said These are not your sufferings: they are not beating you. These are my sufferings: all I ask of you is the loan of your body. "

I can't even make the "sacrifice" to get out of bed an hour earlier to pray or take the time sometimes to speak an extra kind word to my patents. Are these little things that God asks of me too much? Am I really suffering for Him at all?!? Lord, help me to be bold enough to ask for this privilege!

*Posted 7/5/2009*  One of my co-worker frequently makes me think... today it was about sacrifice. Some people that I talk to perceive that my leaving for Africa will involve such a large sacrifice. But I know better. I am learning that it is not a sacrifice to give up things I don't value. So if I adjust my values away from what the world says is important I don't have to give up anything! I know that when I make this step in faith, and every step after that, as I follow the leading of my Lord, I will receive infinitely more than I have given up. Our God is amazing like that.
But can I take it a step further? Am I so bold as to say I even want to suffer for my Savior? Do I really want an opportunity to show my love to him? His disciples rejoiced in their chance to sacrifice. (Acts 5:41...rejoicing because they had been counted worthy of suffering disgrace for the Name.) I'm not sure I can honestly say that yet, maybe someday. For now I will just enjoy the privilege of being able to serve the Lord Jesus Christ how He asks as I prepare to go.

Update on Tim

Well, we are still limping along both figuratively and literally. More follow up labs done today. So back to Mbale to get the run around there. The Cure lab (the most reliable and trust worthy) was able to run his liver enzymes along with the CBC and BMP. And everything is much closer to normal!! (For those that care: ESR- normal! WBC- normal! AST and ALT still slightly off but down significantly.) So, back to Soroti. Please keep praying.  As always the team can use your continual prayers for physical, spiritual and emotional strength in this battle that we are in.

Advocating

So I learn more and more about the “medical system” here and the ins and outs of advocating for someone. (And the absolute necessity of having an advocate!). In the past week Abella has been complaining (that's not true- Abella never complains, she simply mentioned) that she has been feeling sick. I've checked her temp a couple of times and had given tylenol but hadn't thought too much about it. Yesterday morning she didn't show up to go to church with us so after we got home we packed up some orange juice and some motrin and headed over to her house. There we learned that she was at the hospital. Yikes!
So Beckie on one bike, Betty and I on another and Abella's sister on a third we headed to the hospital. On my way over I was running scenario after scenario and trying to figure out, not so much if, but how I should get involved. Her sister seemed to think she was under treatment for malaria. Which in the hospital means a quinine drip. I was confidant (99% sure) that she didn't have malaria so should I demand that they stop the treatment? Should I test her myself first? (Malaria test in a lab here seem to be positive FAR more often than can even be possible). And if it was negative then what? Maybe I should keep my mouth shut and just give money. That is what is expected of me. But I didn't think with a clean conscience I could do that. Besides, I didn't want the money I gave going to treatment that I thought was completely unnecessary and most likely harmful! Did I need to get labs done? Where is trustworthy? Can I find good pediatrician? I still have not managed to locate one of those in Soroti...
Anyway, we arrived at the hospital and managed to find her, she was sitting on the ground outside of a ward. She was there to be with her mother who is the primary care taker of her grandmother. She was feeling better and not under treatment at all. This turned into an excellent example of how rumors and false truths spread around here. But that isn't what this post is about. It is about how I spent weeks fighting for “quality” medical care for a teammate. And here was one the the young girls I care a lot about also needing quality medical care and I have no idea how to get it for her. How far do I go to help for Ugandans? They deserve the same fight that I was willing to give for Tim. But their resources are so much more limited. But mine are not. What is the best way to help?
So, I'm really glad that Abella was not so sick. And I'm really not looking forward to the day that I actually have to answer these questions.

Soroti Cyclists

Putting the chain back on Josh's bike

Denis, a former child soldier, led the way



We had a great ride!! Contrary to what these pictures portray we really did spend a lot of time riding (but also a lot of time fixing our bikes, having our bikes fixed and bandaging wounds). But the group was loads of fun, the day was wonderfully sunny and it was an all around good time. I'm already thinking that Canada Ride for Refuge (Oct. 16^th) may also need a Soroti representation so I might be doing it again in the near future...



Friendly neighborhood bike repair shop that happened to be right on our route.



Bandaging wounds after a GREAT wipeout.

This is going to hurt me more than its going to hurt you.... wait, never mind.



Soroti Cyclists

Tomorrow is the Ride for Refuge!  There is a group of us riding here in Soroti a few hours before the rides that will be taking place in the states. We are planning on doing about 40K and though the bikes are different, the roads are different and our after ride meal is sure to be different we will be doing it for all the same reasons. We want to raise awareness and funds for:
· the TRAUMATIZED Ugandans who were abducted by the Lord’s Resistance Army rebels to be hard-laborers, soldiers and sex-slaves, and their families
· the unreached KARAMOJONG tribe who have been displaced and forced to live in camps by inter-clan fighting and by severe drought, famine and starvation
· ORPHANS and VULNERABLE CHILDREN who are neglected by their family, relatives and communities

It isn't too late to sign up if you want to be part of this! You can ride or donate. Just go to Ride for Refuge- Grand Rapids Our team is called the Soroti Cyclists.
 
Pictures of our ride will be posted shortly....