Ugandan Trip Journal, May 9, 2013

Thursday, May 9, 2013

I knew it was going to be an emotional day.  Scott's last in Uganda.  My last with my sweetie for over two weeks.

Lisa and I told the guys that we needed to be included in the day's outing, as another day at the guest house sounded a little confining.  So Lisa, her daughter, Mike, Scott, Rashid, W--, and I all squeezed in Joy's car (a tiny Toyota sedan, similar to a Corolla), as Rashid's Land Rover was in the shop.  We headed to the lawyer's office to pick up our court ruling.  Alas, the court did not have all of the paperwork completed, but they had one part of it, which was enough to take to the passport office.  So, we of course headed for the passport office. 

We waited for ten minutes for a parking space on the street in front of the office, while Rashid chatted with the parking attendant.  He explained to us that the attendant had been working in that job, in the hot sun, up until she was ready to deliver her baby a few months before.  He asked her how the baby was.  He seems to know just about everyone in this enormous city.

We followed Rashid through the obligatory metal detectors (they're everywhere here - even in restaurants).  And then we weaved behind him through the labyrinth of buildings.  We saw a square perimeter of buildings with a central courtyard and went through it to another and another just like it.  And in each courtyard were masses of people all waiting for their forms of one kind or another.  The passport office occupied just a little room in one of those perimeters; we waited in the courtyard while Rashid went to drop off our papers.  Funnily enough, there was a makeshift tea bar in the little tent we waited in inside the courtyard.  Tea is the Ugandan drink of choice -- that British influence -- and I even saw a jar of hardboiled eggs available on their counter.

Rashid rejoined us within a few minutes, and we headed for the restaurant we had spied out when we were at the lawyer's.

 

It was quite tasty.

 

From there, we went to the industrial part of Kampala, where Rashid left us all in the car so that he could pick up some things.  It was um... a little warm.  And a little awkward, as locals came up trying to talk to us through the open windows; one man was clearly drunk, with the nearly empty bottle still in his hand.  W-- fell asleep on me, and as sweat dripped off his face and skull, it covered my chest with its dampness.

 

We dropped by a grocery store on our way back to the guest house for Scott to pick up Ugandan coffee to bring home.  Scott started packing up his belongings, while we worked on getting W-- another nap.  He didn't have enough "sleep juice" for a second one, but he rested for a while.  We then got to Skype our kids back home, and hear their sweet little voices.

 

We've been a little strained at the guest house for the past week, as the owner of the house brought together a big group of people from around the world for an evangelism seminar and outreach.  People have been coming and going by the dozens since the weekend, and with our room the central one attached to the dining room/group space, and our room being below their training room, it's been a little disruptive.  We've needed to wait for lunches until 1:30ish and dinners until 7:30ish, which is challenging trying to get W-- to bed, only to be woken by the trainees by 6:00-6:30 in the morning.

 

So my last dinner with Scott was noisy and hurried.  After the food, we asked the guest house manager, Fred, to explain to W-- in Luganda that his daddy was going on an airplane, and would be leaving.  W-- gave no reaction.  We assume he understood, though.  As I put him to bed, instead of his very loud, outraged cry, he gave a soft, whimpering one.  Scott and I wondered if it was his way of dealing with the news. 

 

With W-- asleep, Scott and I had just a few minutes to hold each other on the couch in our room.  "I'm gonna miss you," was our theme of the day.  It was then suddenly time for him to leave.  9:00 pm.  Mike wanted to pray with Scott before we left.  He prayed for the vision Scott had for further orphan ministry to come to fruition.  He said goodbyes to the other families.  He said goodbye to me, as I wiped away tears.

 

I know it's just two weeks.  In the almost twelve years we've been married, the longest we've been away from each other has been five days, so this feels long.  Scott is my best friend.  When he's away, I feel like I'm only part of me.  I love his comfort, his steadiness, the safety and security he provides.  But I'm also very glad he can return to care for Adrianna and Abel. 

 

I'm gonna miss you, Scott.  Thanks for being my dear husband and friend.