Ugandan Trip Journal, May 1

Catching up from the last few days...

 

Monday, April 29

Trip to King's Palace.

Lunch at Chicken Royale and delicious chicken and "chips."

Resting afternoon at guest house.

Attempt to walk in the grass... covered in bugs.

Waiting for Mike and Melissa to return from court.

 

Tuesday, April 30

Long morning of waiting to be picked up for court...

Ride into city with van full of W's grandma and aunt and other family's birthmother.

Making it into courthouse by 2:00.

Waiting in room full of people (12 others, maybe?).  Very hot to begin with... Imagine a five story building, being on the fourth floor in 80 degree weather, with no A/C, in a room full of people dressed in their court finery.  A little warm.  And then Rashid turned on the two fans for us and we stood by the windows, while W-- gave us a description of the city (especially focused on the cars and motorcycles), and we started feeling quite comfortable.  We stayed in there for over two hours, before being called into the judge's room.

 

As we entered the judge's cambers, we saw two rows of seats to the right, one row to the left, and a gigantic judge's desk in the middle, with four people seated around it, all focused on the judge.  The room was small, with two small fans pointed towards the judge.  Time seemed to stand still while we seated ourselves with our children and their birth relatives in the double rows.  W--'s face dripped with sweat.  Horns honked below in the busy streets.  Air hung heavy around our over-heated bodies.  W-- sat up straight and silent in my lap, by the grace of God, knowing that he had to be incredibly still and quiet.  As he sat, his eyes grew heavy.  I gently tapped his side, and he fell instantly against me, asleep within seconds.  Mercifully, he slept through the next hour and a half.  The judge got on his "platform"... talking... my eyelids, too, grew weary.  Just as I drifted off, W--'s grandmother instructed me to unbutton his shirt on his dripping body.

 

The other family with us was called first.  Thirty minutes with their birth relative in question.  Twenty minutes with the adoptive mother in question.  And then our turn.  Thirty minutes with W's birth relative, crying.  And then W awoke and was called to sit with his birth relative.  He was remarkably flexible in going between his former connection and his new.  And then my turn to be called before the judge.  This man only likes to question the adoptive moms.  And so he questioned me.  I cried in response to almost all of his questions.  I think it showed I cared.  I think he saw that.

 

We returned on an endless journey back to the guest house.  Picking up food for the birth relative.  Picking up medicine for one of the children.  Picking up bananas.  Dropping off the birth relative.  Oh, the fatigue, after the emotions of that day.  My muscles ached from the cramped hours of hot sitting.  We cushy Americans are so unaccustomed to being uncomfortable.

 

Dragging myself up the hill to the guest house and then the front steps, I could barely hold myself together while W-- fell apart.  He refused to go to sleep in his bed.  Screaming relentlessly, hopelessly.  After my inability to help him, Scott stepped in to calm him down.  He sat down in the chair with the over-exhausted boy, who fell asleep within minutes.

 

I barely held my emotions in check as I climbed under the mosquito net to give into the longings for rest.

 

Wednesday, May 1

 

A very tricky day.  W-- was using two-year-old tricks on us...  He's been so frustrated with our lack of understanding his eloquent Luganda phrases.  So he started tantruming when we asked him to do anything: go to the bathroom, put away his car, put away his book, take a shower, and especially, to go to sleep.  We spent the day at the guest house, and it just seemed to irritate him.

 

By the grace of God, however, Scott and I learned an effective technique for him.  If we forcefully tried to convince him to be obedient, it resulted in "freak out" crying.  But, when he refused to go to the bathroom, I just stood in the bathroom waiting.  Not making eye contact, not saying anything.  He knew exactly what he was supposed to do.  After five minutes, he came over, took my hand, and had me help him go to the bathroom.  Success!  When it came to nap time, we used the same technique to get him into bed.  It took two hours.  For two hours, he wandered around the room, trying to avoid the bed, but having nothing to do.  After that time, he came over to the bed where Scott and I were resting, and climbed in.  He put his little body, exhausted, between us, and was asleep within seconds.  He took a great nap.

 

But by the evening, he was again frustrated with us.  He refused to put his shoes on, until a Ugandan gave him directions to do so.  Then his response was instant.

 

Rashid gave us a tour of the guest house property, with it's various fruit trees/plants (Jack fruit, passion fruit, papaya, avocado, etc.).  This place is achingly lush, fertile, vibrant.  Rashid tells us that you plant a tree, water it once, and then forget about it, and you have a productive plant within no time.

 

W-- started getting frustrated when, before dinner, we told him it was time for a shower.  Scott asked him if he wanted to eat.  Thankfully, he's learned that phrase, so he said, "E-yeah."  Scott said, "You have to take a shower before you can eat."  Amazingly, it made sense to him.  No tantrum, just a calm shower.

 

By bedtime, we were back to the nap time pattern, but this time, he was asleep within an hour and a half.  Ah, progress?