Hakuna Matata

Today started out with a cup of coffee and a plan and ended with a lukewarm beer and a “hakuna matata.” What was supposed to be a 30-minute introduction turned into two hours. Three musical performances turned into seven performances, a skit, a ceremony during which Dr. O’Keefe was made an elder of the tribe and each of us planting trees.

 

So what if we got zero of three planned interviews done for the documentary? We had an amazing day–one of the best of my life.

 

The people of Ave Maria (a school in Lira) have got to be some of the most welcoming people in the world. A third of the children we met at the school today are HIV positive and are war orphans. It’s easy to forget that last part.

 

There was a toddler today (probably about one and half) who was absolutely beautiful. She was gnawing on a piece of sugar cane the entire time we were there. She wandered over to where I was sitting and we hung out for a good half an hour during the skit, which was entirely in their tribal language and therefore incomprehensible.

 

While we were watching the skit, she was trying as hard as she could to break her sugar cane. Her efforts were absolutely adorable, however futile. Finally, she just bit off a chunk and spit it out into her hand. She then proceeded to hold out the bite-sized piece of sugar cane and offer it to me. To say it melted my heart is a vast understatement. This sugar cane is probably the only thing the girl had to eat today, and she wanted to share it with me.

How can a people who have so little give away what little they do have? I think it’s because they just understand what it means to be human, even from the beginning.

Even sitting in church on Sunday, the acceptance of human nature was readily apparent. Women were breastfeeding and the reader reached under his robe to adjust his junk in the middle of reading a Psalm. Why are these things not okay in America? Comfort and nourishment are basic human needs, but we’re ashamed to address them unless we’re out of the public eye.

If we could just accept that we’re all humans, maybe we could stand in a kind of solidarity and we could offer the same unwarranted kindness. Actually, why does kindness have to be warranted at all? Nobody needs to earn kindness, and I think that’s something I learned from the Ave Maria people.

There’s America time, where you’re busy doing something that seems urgent and simultaneously thinking of the next thing you’ll be doing that’s equally as urgent. America time leaves no time to appreciate the people you’re with or to accept them as human beings.

There’s Africa time, where you take time to appreciate the beauty, the silence and the company you have and where the moments stretch into days.

Today, we made the welcome, full transition from America time to Africa time. Hakuna matata.

10 thoughts on “Hakuna Matata

  1. That may have been the best day for you, but your post was the best of all for me. Thanks, Sara. I wish I could have seen the little girl. I wish I could have held the HIV positive children. I know you’re offering up enough love for all of us.

  2. Your comment about America time is so true. How blessed you all must be by this experience! Thanks for sharing it. — Jason’s mom

  3. Sara: I was sitting here this morning with my coffee and I thought I would take some time to catch up on your journey; we all really wish we could do something like you are doing- following your heart. Anyway, something you said really spoke to me, as simple as it was, you wrote: “Nobody needs to earn kindness…” I will make an earnest attempt to remember this today. Please take care and… “Do it!”

  4. Sara, your thoughts are amazing and so so eloquently put. This day sounds like a taste of the best that Africa has to offer!

  5. I followed your blog posts and Dr. Zuegner’s last year, Sara, and I recall that in each of them, one of the most striking posts included the line, “This was the hardest day of my life.” I can’t tell you how great it is to see you go back to Uganda with more experience and greater perspective and be able to say, “This was one of the best days of my life.”

  6. Hey Sara,
    I miss you so much and can’t wait to hear you on the phone and tell me all your stories (all though the blog probably captures many of them)! You write wonderfully and I love your descriptive details. Your experience sounds incredible and honestly life changing. You are a wonderful person and someone I look up to very much. Have a blast and enjoy these last few days. Love always

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *