OK first, fore i tell my story, i gotta say that all is well in Lira. Any parent or supporters, that are especially worried should rest easier.
This past friday the person we are staying with here in Lira, pastor Johson brought us to one of the schools he planted. Alot of us were really excited about this, unfortunately i wasn't one of them. Due to different circumstances, including an attack by a thorn tree earlier in the day, i was not exactly at the top of my game. When one of the kids asked to throw a frisbee with him i jumped at the chance. I usually love throwing the frisbee with them. Unfortunately they havent quite grasped the concept of ultimate yet. This particular day with these particular kids was different. I ended up being the frisbee boy haha. One of the times i went to retrieve the frisbee it flew over near the water pump. I noticed how slow these two little "street" girls were pumping the lever and decided that a little manual labor on my part would help not only her but me as well. (I've kinda been missing it surprisingly) so i topped off her jerry can… then she placed another one underneath… an then another. I ended up doing about 40 or 50 gallons of water. there is quite a variety of containers they use, anything from a dish soap bottle to a 8/10 gallon jerry can, and there was quite a selection. The girls pulled out two big and one small jerry cans and a soap bottle. Me, being the manly, ROTC, former wrestler, of course grabbed both the big jerry cans and followed these two girls to there hut. Haha i thought back to my Passion confrence that i went to over Christmas break; one of the stations had a path that you could walk around the same way i was. I dont remember the jerry cans being quite as heavy, or if they bit into my soft, American hands as much, but here i am 6 months later trekking for about a mile with 70ish pounds of water hanging from each hand. I wont lie and say it was easy or anything, cuz it wasn't, but i wouldn't ever go back and pass up that chance. That simple act was an amazing feeling. Trudging a mile with two girls that really dont speak good eanglish gives you alot of time to think; lots of things went through my mind for sure: American vs. African life, college, true toughness, blisters, my past, and how heavy water really is. When i got to their hut (after "tying my shoes" twice and "waiting for everyone to catch up") i was met with an elderly woman who at first was really shocked then immediately amused by the muno (whitey) carrying water. NOw, normally i don't take well to being laughed at, but i was too tired to care. haha. Her and her husband invited me to sit and we tried to talk eachother. That simple expereince was honestly the best part of my whole week. There is no doubt in my mind i will remember it, especially the look on that woman's face.
Later that day i saw them back again at the pump. It again reminded me how different it is to live here where a mile walk with two jerry cans is equivalent to a minute walk to a fridge.
