some girls and a grill

You might have seen on my Facebook page the other night that we had a good old-fashioned American grill party. Betsy, an amazing cook, sometimes decides to cook an entire, multi-course meal...and we usually benefit from these spontaneous inclinations! 

Betsy put Kimberly in charge of the grill...and of course, I couldn't stay away from a fire. So we started as Betsy was finishing her preparations and everything was ready to cook. 

Attempt 1: notice the kerosene.

However, we hadn't planned for the fact that neither of us really knows anything about lighting charcoal fires. Kimberly had borrowed kerosene from a friend...but we quickly discovered the veracity of the saying that 'a kerosene fire is a fake fire.' 

Soon Betsy came out to check on the commotion...and we pulled her into the grill-lighting attempt.

Attempt 2. Notice Betsy's candle...we had run out of matches, so we were lighting pieces of paper on fire to tempt the charcoal with a flame. 

Betsy soon returned the grill responsibilities to Kimberly and I. She was ready to fire up the oven, but Kimberly wasn't quite convinced that the grill was completely donzo. So we tried again.

Attempt 3. Notice the determination in our posture...

Attempt 3 was actually successful! But it did require an intervention to remain so. Kimberly pulled out all the stops and started pouring kerosene on the fire by the jarful.

Fire! 

The grill was finally lit, the charcoal burning, and the hamburgers cooking. It only took us about an hour, some kerosene, a call for advice to the single guys' house, and Kimberly's determination to have American-grilled hamburgers! 

Once the burgers were on, we kept a close eye on the grill for two reasons: to keep the fire going and to keep the cats away! 

The final result? 

Hannah & I stoking the fire

The most amazing hamburgers ever cooked in Uganda! 

small world

Last week, I stopped at our resident Canadians' household to help their oldest daughter start studying for her science final. Being that I hadn't had my morning cup o'joe yet, I asked to borrow a mug and some hot water for my (cough cough Jennifer's awesome! cough cough) Starbucks Via packet.

Lo and behold, I was presented with this lovely reminder of Canada:

Tim Horton...a Canadian classic

The funny story about this mug, though, is that this family didn't bring it from Canada, as a warm, friendly, daily reminder of home. 

Nope. 

They bought this mug in the local market a few months ago. And now it serves as a reminder of home...but it also begs the question: 

How small is our world if a limited edition Tim Hortons' mug is for sale in a rural Ugandan market???

March 2013 Update

March 2013 Blog Update

signs of the times...

Having English as the main but not the native language leads to pretty awesome signage. 

Combine that fact with Ugandan vs. British vs. American English and the following humor results: 

In Uganda (and maybe Britain?), a 'tick' is a checkmark. 

In America, a tick is a nasty little bug that gives you Lyme disease. 

Billboards are a fascinating glimpse into the local culture. I'm interested to back to America and re-evaluate our billboards. I remember seeing billboards with 'don't do drugs!'...but never billboards about HIV!

And just for kicks, this one always makes my housemates & I laugh:

cereal

Something we don't get a lot here is cereal. The taste of delicious American cold cereal is a rare treat. 

So when my housemate who visited Dubai brought back some Raisin Bran for me...yumalicious!!! 

The salsa was pretty amazing too. After eating homemade salsa all the time, it was fun to taste chunky store-bought salsa!

Off to enjoy some good cereal and coffee for breakfast...

paining...

Today, my heart aches. 

It’s the same familiar ache that has become a constant companion over the past month, an ache caused by my own choice. It’s an ache accentuated by the cooler weather of wet season, the sound of drums and vuvuzelas at today’s football tournament, the sight of children gathered for fun and games...and by statuses and pictures on Facebook reminding me of a previous life. 

Today, my heart grieves for what I have lost. My choice to say ‘yes’ to Uganda was also a decision to say ‘no’ to camp. I wonder with a sigh whether I will ever again receive the opportunity to work at camp.

For so many unshakable reasons, I know that ‘yes’ to Uganda was the right decision. I’m not doubting my choice but simply grieving my loss. There are so many parts of me strewn across the world. How can I ever unite them? 

You have kept count of my tossings,

Put my tears in your bottle.

Are they not in Your book?

-Psalm 56.8