Pump removal and container drop

        I stayed the remaining time with the Turners and was dropped off to meet with Robert at the shopping center where our team has gone in the past.  It was a mutual location where it was within the range of both Robert, and the Turners.  I met with Robert and came to find out that he actually did not come with the bus.  It was being cleaned at the garage.  I asked, “How did you get here?” He replied, “I took the taxi”.  I didn’t really know where to go from there, I asked him if we should take the taxi back to the bus, and he gave my bags a glance and told me that we should take the Boda.  The Boda-boda is the motorcycle that buzzes around in and out of traffic as if there is no consequence for an accident.  I paused for a moment and saw the look on Darrie’s face as Robert laid out his plan before us. Darrie said, “Uh, you know, I can take you both in the car back to your garage” after a quick glance to Debbie, who nodded in agreement. The “Garage” ended up being a giant pull-out off of a road that was basically spots of mud and dry dirt. It is actually quite amazing how clean they can make the bus, or any other vehicle considering the location.

I loaded my things on the bus and we spent some time waiting. After all, I had already accomplished my main goal for the day; meet up with Robert. The rest of the day we spent waiting. we finally pulled the bus off the road near lake Victoria and waited as the sun set in the west. 

Robert and I stood in the airport where people come out of customs. I watched a girl come through the door, and as she realized one of her family was standing just in front of her she let out a high pitch squeal and started bouncing and scooting her way over to where her loved one was. All the taxi drivers and other people who were standing around let out a laugh at the animation that they observed as she noticed someone else, and started the same routine out the door. 

I like to people watch. People do very interesting things. In fact, if it were a sport I would do it for sure. I thought about how amazing relationships are; how much joy a reunion can be. Some of the smiles and excitement that you see at an airport give you such a feeling of satisfaction. If you are wanting to fill some of your joy cup, go to an airport and just watch how people react with each other when a loved one comes home. 

Debbie Douglas was the first to arrive. She was alone, pushing the entirety of her luggage on a luggage cart. She said that she was asking everyone the whole trip to help her with her bags. We moved her luggage out to the bus and returned to wait for the rest of the team which came within the hour. It was then a dark and quiet ride across Kampala to the Ridar Hotel at midnight. 

Next day (Wednesday), we had a late start. We allowed Robert to come later in the day since we weren’t planning on getting to the orphanage until around 1pm. We eventually made it to the orphanage and the children were very exited to see us. I was bombarded with the same questions that I always get; “Where is Andrew?” “Where is Tracy?” and so on. I end up having to try and answer hard questions for them about why people cant come. There is one boy that has asked me where the same person is every year since 2007, and every year he watches the bus waiting expectantly to see her get off. I saw some of the girls that I know huddled talking, so I went up to them. As I got closer they stopped talking and started looking away. I figured they must have been talking either about me or something that they didn't think they should be. After inquiring about their topic, one of the girls looked at me and said, “Our sponsors”. I asked, “What about your sponsors?”

Watching and cheering for the container being unloaded.

“Why do some sponsors come once and never come back, when you come every time?” It brings so many questions to my own mind. By coming so often, do I make some of the other sponsors look bad? do I make some of the other children jealous of the children that I sponsor? What effect does someone coming and really bonding with a child, never to return have on that child? I actually started to feel bad that I come back again and again. 

I found a few things out in my first day. Some of them good, and some of them not so good. 

Good: The school is looking very good. The roof is being placed on the 4th floor, and the brick walls are going up on the second floor to close the gap between 1 and 3. 

Bad: After I left the orphanage in April, the borehole remained in its non-working state and remains, two months later, in its non-working state. I have not had too much opportunity to really understand what is going on with this, and why it was not fixed, but talking to Betty and Eve, it seems to me that they are very desperate for the pumps to be working again, yet don’t know how to go about getting it fixed. I had Betty make a call to the man that comes and troubleshoots the system and arrange for him to come out tomorrow in the morning and show me what is happening. From what she said, he gave her a reason that seems to be to be completely un-logical. He told them that the water table was too low and that is why it no longer pumped water. It needs to be fixed; the children need their water.

Thursday, June 27

This is the intake for the borehole pump.
There is a buildup of small rocks in the impeller.

The technician from Davis and Shirtliff came. He brought an electrical specialist from their main office with him to diagnose the system. I showed them the pump house and after looking at it for some time they gave me a recommendation. “We recommend that we take the panel, and the pump back to our facility to appropriately diagnose the system.” I didn’t hesitate to tell them to do it. They removed the bolts, disconnected all the wiring, and carted the panel up to the location of the borehole. I watched them disconnect the plate that covers and protects the borehole and helped them to pull the water filled pipe and pump all 230 vertical feet to the surface where they proceeded to remove the pump from the pipe. We loaded them onto the boda-bodas and sent them back into Kampala. I was sure to tell them that 500 children were eagerly waiting and relying on them for water. They assured me that this would be their priority and would work on it before anything else. 

We decided that it would be a good Idea to prepare for the arrival of the container, which could happen at any time. We drove into town to collect some blocks on which to set it so that it would be a quick and smooth drop. The day was drawing to a close. An alarm on my phone went off telling me to get on the bus. As I ran to the bus, I saw Bruce in no apparent hurry to get on the bus as he was looking at his phone. I asked him if we were heading back. He replied informing me that the container may in fact be on its way to the orphanage, “so we will wait for some time.” 

Picture in your mind; hundreds of small children shouting excitedly as they run to keep up with a truck. The children on one side of the wall and the truck on the other. The shouting and cheering, if a happy sound in my ear, must be a glorious sound in God’s ear. It is the kind of moment that you want to take a million pictures of so that later you may transport yourself back into that moment, but nothing will do it justice. Maybe that moment has fragmentation of heaven embedded into its core.

The truck entered the gate and was greeted by all the children. You could see the drivers looking at the children in disbelief as they were welcomed as heroes by the child mob. The truck pulled next to the crane and the lifting began. The container rose and swung through the air. All the children stood in awe of the giant machine lifting this massive box. No playing, no talking, only fixation on the crane. At dusk, the container set down on the blocks that we had set earlier in the day and the job was finished. 

Unpacking will begin tomorrow.