Family Adventuresomeness

When I was a little kid my family would almost always get together with my cousins for Christmas. The year my little sister Audrey was born, my uncle dressed up as Santa and my dad (Rudolph) pulled him behind his motorcycle in a little red wagon. The scene disintegrated into pandemonium when Santa started “whipping” Rudolph to get him to move – I guess he didn’t look enough like a reindeer and our family is full of animal lovers anyway. A few years later we all met up in eastern Zaire for a little Christmas safari. As I recall, on that trip, I managed to fill my britches with army ants, one vehicle lodged itself in the mud between two large male lions, the other vehicle was charged by an angry elephant and a snake decided to join us in playing with our new Christmas toys.
Since that time, our family has tried its level best to outdo all previous adventurous catastrophes. When I was twelve we went to the Kenyan coast and within five minutes Audrey broke her arm and the rest of us got sick from the pool water. After a long hiatus – maybe we were all still recovering from the past – this year we all got together again, this time in Uganda. We spent Christmas day in Jinja, which is where the Nile River begins its arduous journey north from Lake Victoria, and in order to spice up the event a little (remember we’re still trying to outdo the lions) we decided to go rafting at the source of the Nile and hope we didn’t drown on one of the class 5 rapids. It turned out to be one of the best experiences we’ve ever had as a family – and that includes being flipped out of the raft twice into the swirling water.
There were only two harrowing experiences while rafting – Heather losing her helmet on the first flip and Dad getting sucked down to the heart of Africa for about 30 seconds – so, as you must be able to figure out by now, our family was still looking for some sort of catastrophe to keep our hearts beating at an elevated level. We conveniently didn’t have to wait too long for our much needed “adventure”.
Following Christmas, we all went to our house in Entebbe and then on to the Ssese Islands for several days of relaxation. After celebrating the New Year in our uninterrupted dreams, we woke up, packed up camp and headed home. In fitting family adventursomeness one of the boats conveniently ran out of fuel part way home. Logic would suggest that you don’t overload a boat when the water is somewhat tumultuous but in a moment of family fanaticism – the sun was setting - logic sunk to the bottom of the lake and everyone but my dad and uncle clamored into the other boat.
Slowly, ever so slowly, we made our way toward land. And while the sun set in purples and reds reflected on the dark water, grandma clung to gramdpa, the cat clung to anyone who would hold her, and everyone else pretended that the situation wasn’t really as grave as it was. The poor little boat wondered what terrible fate had befallen it and Jimmy, the boat driver, wondered how he ever got mixed up with this crazy family. But we made it.
We made it and Jimmy and I had the appointed opportunity to head back out on the blackening water to save the day with a jerrycan of diesel. I enjoy being out on the water in a boat at anytime…except when its dark and I can’t see where I’m going. Thankfully, Mr. Sunshine was still glowing below the western horizon and we found the other boat, got it started and then just prayed we wouldn’t ground on any rocks the rest of the way home. We made it. The family was relieved. And, since no one had to swim to land, we’re probably still looking for some lions to get stuck between.

I am back in Sudan now, having spent a night in tense Kenya (please pray for that country), and I am ready for what awaits me here in the next few weeks. There is a lot of catching up to do after the Christmas break so I will be quite busy. I have also received more supplies to build shelves at the hospital so will likely spend a great deal of time there.
The weather is HOT and dry here. It is easily above 100F during the day and it takes most of the night to cool down. Around 3:30 in the morning a roaring wind starts. It feels as if my thatch roof will come off but thankfully that hasn’t happened yet, although I do have a few “skylights” in places already.