My Motivation

To finish with that last story, the drumming and dancing in the jail cell held such energy and human emotion- room was powerful. Screaming, yelling, jumping, dancing- in each of these movements, the prisoners exposing their past pains and weaknesses. Dancing with a momentum that was contagious and inspiring, it was most likely the first oppportunity they had had to fully express how they felt. They were not holding anything back. Each one dripping, soaked in sweat, releasing inner tears, heartache and regret. Because they were so open in sharing this with us, you could do nothing but expose your own heart and feel sensational love for these people. The experience was utterly human, and godlike at the same time. It was a connection and sharing of human souls and spirit. At one point, my legs were flapping in my seat, with the rythms of the music. I was in this zone, feeling the drum beats and the chants of the people. The Jail Warden, seeing our enthusiasm asked if we wanted to get up and dance. Without too much hesitation, the 7 of us paraded up into the scene, and let loose. We danced without care,jumped as high as we could, and sang out loud, in this circle of prisoners. Amongst murderers and theives and prisoners of circumstance, I found pure harmony and joy. Trust was there, respect and a deep human understanding was there. It was amazing.

In other news, work is good. I took a day off this week to work with the World Food Program. We delivered food to an IDP camp holding about 15,000 people. The WFP delivers food to all 50+ camps in Northern Uganda, feeding about 1.5 million. They have a very organized system in place, and the people at the camps are beautiful and miserable at the same time. They have endured the most degrading of hardships. It was such a long and tiring day, as my mind was working just as hard as my body, unloading 50K bags of beans and corn. After unloading the trucks full of food- enough to feed 15,000 people for one month, we walked across this open field where we began to check people in using their identity cards. At first, we began walking through this field with about 300 people, each representing a family of 2-10 people. After walking at the head of the group, we settled in this beautiful open space, full of green grass, with a striking view across the countryside. Captivated by the view, I had not noticed all of the people that had begun to follow us. I finally looked back to see a herd of thousands. Thousands of people walking to this field- more people than I have ever seen altogether. Women, mostly, children strapped to their backs. Old women, boys, some men. They waited and sat in the hot sun for hours waiting to get checked in. They were patient and gracious, but I could not stop comparing these people to my own Mother, Father, and family. Would I ever want to see my grandmother hunched on the ground, head down, waiting for her hand out? Could I picture my sister at age 10 getting scolded for not going to school, when she was representing her entire family, hauling huge, disproportionate sized bags home to her awaiting sick parents? And to see the men, downtrodden, plagued by a lack of self-respect and pride, aware that with each handout they are further losing their culture and self-sufficiency. A people that have suffered the most violent of atrocities now sitting in camps, in total survival-mode, as animals in a zoo, with slim hope of restoring the life that only the elders can now recall- a life that exists here, outside of fear. The camps are just as bad as they were described in the States. Continue to pray for the people there, dying by the hundreds to thousands each week (according to the UN).

And in the least, please watch the Displace ME media that was just created. It is on the www.invisiblechildren.com website. It shows the event that happened April 29th to raise awareness about the situation there. Our team was at the one in DC. P.S. Showing it to Ugandans here is very emotional