What a weekend

So our big plan this weekend was to go up to this place called Prayer Mountain and camp out for a night. We started to head over on Friday but then the rains came and never really let up so we went to a friends house instead for dinner. As we got ready to leave after dinner it started to rain again and we realized we were going to be stuck. See when it rains here the roads (which are made of dirt) turn to mud. And when you live on top of a hill if the roads are mud then you can’t get up the hill. Plus riding on a boda through the rain, at night, in the mud just didn’t seem the brightest of moves. So we had an impromptu sleep over and watched movies and ate M&Ms all night.

Saturday I went home to attend an Introduction that was taking place in my backyard at the restaurant there called Henrietta’s. It was for a girl names Restie who is related to Rita and so they were hosting the Introduction. I had asked a woman from work to pick me up a traditional attire wear in town while she was there on Friday. You can’t just show up to these things in a skirt and shirt or even a dress…its traditional wear all the way. And the great thing is, that since there are so many introductions taking place all the time you can rent a Gomez (traditional dress) for like 10,000 shillings. So Maureen comes into the house and hands me my Gomez and I notice it looks a lot like hers. And I was thinking oh that’s fun I will get to be sisters with Maureen today since we are dressed the same. So I put it on and walk out of the house to find 4 other women in the exact same pattern and I didn’t really put it all together then so I walked through to the gardens to take my seat in the visitors tent when someone approached me and asked why I was sitting down? I was like um I am attending the Introduction….and then she says yes but you are a brides maid. HAHA. So that’s why we were all dressed alike. I get it now. I have no idea how this happened but I went from just attending a ceremony to being in it. That’s just the way things work here sometimes. It’s either a failure to communicate or they just assume it will be ok with you to be put in front of a hundred or so Ugandans and made to carry baskets and serve soda on your knees. It was a beautiful day though and a lovely ceremony and I was honored to be asked to be a part of it.

That night four of us went up to prayer mountain, which is only about a 10 minute boda ride from my house. It was all way more organized than I expected and when we got there you actually had to check in – much like a campsite would be back in the states. So we sit in this small office and wait our turn to check in. We finally get to the desk about 30 minutes later and he asks us all for ID. I was like um I don’t carry ID with me. He looked at me strangely like this was the weirdest thing in the world. When I explained that it wasn’t safe for us to travel around with our passports because of pick pockets he understood. There were four of us standing and he suggested we take a seat because we would be there a while. How in the world can checking in take 45 minutes? The sign in process was lengthy and painfully slow. They ask for your name, nationality, next of kin in Uganda, church you pray from regularly, etc, etc. Everything is hand written in a book with hand drawn lines…just like every other Ugandan organization.

Once that was all set we paid our 3,500 shillings (a little more than $2) for a tent and we were on our way, name tags and all. The tents were small but had two foam mattresses in each. What a great surprise as all we had brought were clothes and a sheet. So we sat outside our tents on the small benches and talked most of the evening about everything and nothing. We talked about the work each one of us was doing in Uganda, the fact that we all wanted to stay longer, family and friends back home, and things we could be praying for one another. It was great. We headed to bed around midnight and the other people at the camp were still going strong in their praying and singing. There was a group about 20 yards from our tent that met in a circle and sang 3-4 songs and then would break off and pray out loud for 30-40 minutes. When I say out loud I mean loudly. There was yelling and crying out to God and grunting and other noises. This went on all night until 3 or 4am. I guess we aren’t nearly as diligent in our praying as they are. We got up to catch the end of the sunrise and then we all went our separate ways doing some prayer walking and spending time alone with God. We met back up and headed down the hill and back to our friends house for an amazing home cooked breakfast (we even had bacon!).

The idea of prayer mountain is interesting to me. They have set aside a hill where anyone can come and pray for as long as they like. You can stay up to 7 days without question and anything longer you just have to apply with someone at the office. We were the only muzungus on the hill and that was refreshing as well. It was nice to see Ugandans praying for their country, their leaders, and each other and not being led by some white person. Jesus went to the hill and the mountains to pray. He left the people behind and went to a retreat where it was just him and God conversing. He stayed sometimes for days praying and fasting. I stayed one night, couldn’t even stay awake for the entire night to pray and I think I ended up getting sick from the cold damp air. I clearly need some more practice at this :)