The Crazy Adventures of an American Mzungu

Life is a fact. We have life in our bones. We breath. Our hearts continue to beat. We are able to think and problem solve. We witness these things simply by existing. Along with the mechanical part of life, we also witness the emotions. We find joy in friendships. We find love amongst each other. We suffer. We cry. We laugh. We persevere. All these things mix together to produce life. So many times, the lies of this world feed into our heads, which either cause us to fight or give up all hope. I cannot list the amount of times people hear I am only 22, and proceed to point their finger at me. They say I have absolutely no qualifications, and that I am just trying to make myself look good by working for “those poor kids of Uganda.” Apart of me always listens to the accusations. They are right. I am young, and plenty more people have proper qualifications. However, I am not here to make myself look better than anyone else. I constantly fight the lies of the world. Government official...

I see him across the room, as he tries to conceal a smile. Creeping over, I peak around walls and furniture with my tickling fingers ready to pounce. The closer I get, the bigger his smile grows. He tries to sneak away, but I reach out and grab him and tickle him until we are both on the ground, laughing so hard we have tears running down our face. This, of course, starts a full on tickle war between me and three little boys, two that speak no English. I cherish these moments. I cannot express the joy that fills my heart, as I am able to be apart of bringing the hope of Christ to children, especially with the language barriers that exist. Being able to pour into a child without speaking sounds terrifying and impossible. However, I always let my mouth get in the way. I say the wrong thing, or let angry words slip my lips. Mix in a language barrier, and my words no longer pose such a threat. I am able to use the international languages, such as laughter. Tender actions and loving tou...

Walking down the streets of Uganda is an adventure in and of itself. With marriage proposals and constantly being asked out, I have come up with plenty of quick and sassy lines to throw back at them. I know most of these proposals come from my white skin and American roots, and I never take a single one of them seriously. I love joking about them and laughing at the awkward encounter later. One of my favorites happened at church. A man came up to me, and began to shake my hand. In Uganda, there is no such thing as a personal bubble. People stand awkwardly close to you. With that in mind, this guy stood too close to me as he continued to shake my hand. We introduce ourselves to each other, and he continues to shake my hand. He then asks me, “Would you be interested in a relationship?” “Uhhh.... Well.... N...” I get cut off. “WAIT!” *still shaking my hand* “Where are you from?” “America” “Oh. So you are not from Australia?” “No, sir. Born and raised in America.” Disappointm...

I recently was able to spend a week in South Africa with my best friend, where she stays and interns with Impact Africa. My heart was overjoyed to reconnect with her. I loved being able to spend that time with her because for the first time in six months, I was with someone who knows me well. Kelly is one of those people who gets me. We have spent countless nights just talking and talking. She is the copilot in all my crazy Boise stories. We simply connect. I felt so relieved to be understood on such a level once more... But Johannesburg. Johannesburg is something else! I grew up in America. Shopping centers, malls, nicely cut and properly frozen and packaged meat, and basically everything nice are normal in my life. I gave up all those things when I came to Uganda. I knew God was calling me down this path, and I had no problem letting those things go. Sure the meat was the most difficult to give up (Please enjoy this picture of the meat isle in a grocery store I went to. I got w...