Expatriats

First of all, happy Independence Day to Uganda! Today marks 47 years of independence.

One of the things Paul and I learned when we lived in Jordan 20 years ago is the expat community is filled with interesting people. We have found the same to be true here. In the short amount of time we've been here we've met a doctor who has worked in Africa for 30 years, an American military adviser to the Ugandan army, a businessman who imports cocoa and vanilla beans from Congo, a documentary filmmaker/fish farmer, and a man and his wife who were both born in Uganda, grew up in LA, and now have moved back to Uganda for good. A number of the people we've met have spent time living in the bush without electricity or running water. Also, almost all of them have lived overseas most of their adult lives, generally in African countries. Paul and I are lightweights being here for only ten months.

The expat church community is equally varied. Our church, Kampala International, is composed of about 2/3 Westerners and 1/3 Ugandans. The Westerners are largely European, though there are a fair number of Americans. Things have a European flavor. Nobody hugs when they meet - they kiss each other once on each cheek (and I was told the Dutch just keep going). Alcohol is more widely accepted than you would find in American churches, though Americans certainly have become more relaxed about drinking than they used to be. We were at a Bible study group last week, and when we were finished looking at the Bible and praying, our host brought out whiskey and Bailey's Irish Cream and people had a nightcap. Then we were at a church dinner last night and there was drinking, smoking, and dancing well into the night. What unites us, of course, is that in spite of cultural differences, all these people have found Jesus a compelling figure and are trying to figure out what it means to follow him. I really want to be able to listen to them and learn from them, especially from the Africans, most of whose life experiences are so different from my own.

This just in: those of you (our moms) who have read our blog from the beginning may remember that in an early post I described our neighborhood and that next door we have two "mansions." We noticed an unusual amount of activity there today, so Paul decided to be bold and go over to see if he could find out what those houses are. He met the owner, a gregarious Ugandan man, who welcomed him in to look around and said he'd invite us to the housewarming. It turns out the largest house is his private residence and the other one is his guesthouse. My. Can we use the pool?

Karen