Surreal moment tonight—I watched Barack Obama’s inauguration on Ugandan television. Forgot where I was for a little while. Somehow that made me miss Dave more, as if I wanted to watch it with a fellow American. Interesting to watch it with Ugandans, though. The idea of a peaceful passing of power—with the leaving President in attendance and other former Presidents there as well lending support to the new Chief—was unfathomable to them. Pretty cool to think of it that way. I’ve always taken it for granted, I guess.

I broke two glasses tonight. African women are more graceful than Americans, it seems to me—or maybe it’s just I who feel clumsy and klutzy around them. Angel was handing me a tray with the empty glasses on it—and they slid right off. Two of them shattered on the concrete floor—and glass shards went everywhere. I swept and swept and swept until I finally couldn’t see any glittering pieces, even when I got down and put my face just above the floor.

Somehow I’m getting into a bit more of a rhythm here, with this family. I’m less shocked by the differences, able to accept. Still, there are things that I miss or am ready for. Here’s my list: consistent plumbing; trash service (I’ve been keeping a trash bag secretly in my carryon luggage, because the African women burn the trash by hand, and who wants someone else to have to handle the wet wipes dirty from cleaning off feet at the end of the day?);  a hot shower; autonomy—the ability to walk down the street without needing someone with me; the ability to get my own food and not feel as if I’m being waited on in that respect; my own pillow; clean feet—all day long.

All for now. Court date in the morning. Oh, my Lord, it’s all in Your hands.

It’s morning. I didn’t sleep much. The court meets this morning, and I am restless. Zaina did NOT sign the probation officer’s report yesterday. I don’t understand why—after all the work that Wilfred, and Florence, and Liz, and even, in a sense, I, too, went to last week, why would she not? She is so concerned with presenting a good picture to the court, to her superiors, you would think that she would be quite concerned with a court date at which her report is not ready. I don’t understand. There is so much I don’t understand. We need this report for the visa—do we not need it for court? Why not? It is the document we have worked hardest to get. Does she want more money?

Oh, Lord, as usual, it is in Your hands, and a miracle is required to bring it all to pass. Help me to trust in You. “I believe. Help my unbelief.”

“Now to Him who is able to do more than we ask or imagine—to Him be all power and glory and dominion forever and ever. Amen.”

Amen.