Thursday, January 5, 2012

A New Year

2011 is over.. 2012 is already five days old.

In church on Sunday one of the pastors reminded us that with the new year comes a fresh start. The old has past, the new is yet to come. For some reason I needed to hear that. 2011 wasn't a very good year. I hope and pray that 2012 is much better.

To catch you up on some things that have been going on.

Our puppies all got sold. The last one, and actually the one we had decided to keep, was just sold to our good friend, Ryan. The last puppy, whom we called puppy or midgey, is such a sweet little thing. She was one of the puppies who got really sick, but I was able to nurse back to health. If anybody else had asked for her, the answer would have been "no". With Ryan it is different. Ryan moved up north a few months ago. He lives an hour and a half from any other mzungu, white person. He goes out to villages to share Christ with those who haven't ever heard. Puppy is going to be a good companion for him. Like I told Ryan the day before he left and took puppy... I can so see him in ten years, wandering the bush... with puppy by his side. So, although I am sad she is gone... she couldn't have gone to a better chose.

There is a new restaurant in town called Skewers. Kabobs. Naan. We decided that we would go and try it out. Trevor and Ryan had already gone and given it a good report. So on Saturday the whole family headed there for a late lunch. We decided to sit outside, just because it is nicer to sit outside, although the view is just of the street.

As we are sitting there waiting for our sodas... one of the town's "crazy" guys was walking by. Now to help you understand. Jinja doesn't have the facilities for mentally challenged people. So there are several men and women that just wander the streets. You can pick them out of the crowd, as they are the ones who have tattered reddish-brown clothes. Some have less clothes than others. Matted hair. No shoes. You get the picture. Since this is Uganda, one never knows the real reason for why these people have become the way they are. Cerebral malaria. Demon possession. Both very real reasons.

Okay, back to the story.

This particular mulaloo, crazy person, I call "Pantless Joe". He tends to have a VERY tattered pair of pants or shorts on, that never seems to have a button or zipper. He walks around bunched in his hand, holding them up. (yes, I have had other run-ins with him... one which he forgot his hand was holding his pants up... and no... there was no underwear.) Why I named him Pantless Joe.

So, Pantless Joe tripped off the curb right by us and a security guard that was next door laughed at him. Pantless Joe got irritated. Started waving his arms around, with chunks of something flying off. He then went in front of our truck. Picked up a good sized slab of concrete and threw it, luckily, across the street from where we were sitting. This made the security guard and others laugh once again. As Pantless Joe came around to the back of our truck, I remember saying to the kids... "Don't look at him. Don't look at him." I think I must have good protective instincts. No sooner had I said it the second time, when Trevor turned his head towards where Pantless Joe was. Big mistake.

Pantless Joe leaned over to the roadside, where he had put a bag of something. Picked it up and hurled it at us.

Kenna and Jon had their backs to Pantless Joe. The bag went between them and headed straight for Declan and I who were facing towards Pantless Joe and the street. Somehow, thank you Lord, the bag missed both of our heads, but went smashing into the huge window directly behind us. On impact with the window the bag basically exploded with the contents of the bag shooting everywhere. I stood up immediately, grabbed Declan and told the kids to get inside. I had the contents running down my face. Running down my dress. On the back of my dress. Declan had it all down the back of his shirt. The contents of the bag. Luckily it was some sort of left over food. Curry. Potatoes. Peas. Sauce. Slimy. Smelly. Did I mention it was dripping down the front of my dress and down the side of my face?!

The staff all came over to us, and in typical Ugandan style all started saying, "Sorry, sorry, sorry." When I asked for some napkins to try and wipe myself off... they brought napkins out, but then proceeded to wipe my face for me.

Jon and the owner of the restaurant jumped on Jon's motorcycle to follow Pantless and to go and make a report at the police station. When the policeman tried to apprehend Pantless, he took off down the street.

Needless to say we were very fortunate that there was only a bag full of food, not a rock, not a bottle. Fortunate it missed hitting us directly. Thank you Lord for protecting us.

I didn't say it before, so.. Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year to all of you!

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