Today was another epic day in Gulu. You would not believe this stuff if you read it in a book. Let me try to re-cap.
Since coming here last Thursday, we’ve been to a traditional burial, visited a coffin maker, held a new one-day old baby, been in a dozen huts/houses, spent time in a psych ward with a member who went berserk, driven down trails and through ditches to huts that only a 4-wheel drive could cross, and sweat out buckets of perspiration. RaNae and I keep commenting how we love this place, but it is so foreign to home that those there cannot grasp what we see here.
These people are so poor that they often farm a bit of ground for food, yet have no other income to pay for the smallest and simplest things – like soap, bread, and transport. When we got our call to Uganda, we were told that we would be among the poorest of the poor in the world. Now we are seeing how true that is. And yet, as always we are amazed at how happy the people really are. This is no act. They are not trying to impress anyone. They really are this happy.
Today as we went to one hut, there were 20 small children playing in the dirt/grass yard. I chased them like a monster with arms raised and roaring, and it was exactly like at home. They scattered in screaming delight for the attention. Their teeth may be rotten, their clothes may be rags, they may be as skinny as skeletons, but they are delighted to be alive. We must remember this for always. Happiness cannot be bought or sold. It is breathed in by anyone who wants to inhale it.