He took the burden of dragging my suitcase, laden with gifts
for the people of Paidha, through the dirty, rocky roads of Kampala while I
shouldered my backpack. I make it a practice to zip the pack closed leaving the
pulls on the lower side of the pack so that it’s more difficult to unzip.
However, I’d not transferred my wallet, phone, and keys from the small pocket on
the outside to the inside of the pack.
We hiked the streets toward the bus station. I followed
Augustine closely…although I knew where I was and generally where I was headed.
As we rounded the corner near the station, the crowed thickened (if that is even
possible in an already jammed city) and I felt a small tussle on my pack. I
attributed the tussle to the crowd but must admit the thought of thievery
crossed my mind. Less than 30 seconds later we stepped into the bus office and
I dropped my pack to the floor to get out the money for my bus ticket. My
wallet was gone. It’s contents:
2 pictures of Rick and Tom with Micah and Lucah when they
were babies
Nail file
List of phone numbers (sorry)
4 passport photos
My motorcycle permit
My cosmetology license
A few other papers I may not recall
150,000 UGX
$100.00 USD
Some odd KES
A phone card
My driver’s license
My Barclays ATM card
My personal Chase ATM card
My business Chase ATM card
Things NOT in my wallet:
My passport
My flash drive
My international driver’s license
Would I still be able to go to Paidha without money?
Augustine, such a sweet man, got on the phone with Lobu while I hauled out my
computer and stuck the portable modem in the USB slot. Logging into Chase to
get the instructions for cancelling my card, I found that a phone call was
required. Praise the Lord twice – I still had my computer and I still had my
phone. I got the message through, from what I could understand on this cross
Atlantic call, and sent an email to my mom asking that she double check. Praise
the Lord again for a really smart, really helpful momma.
Augustine was so sensitive to how I was feeling and asked if
I wanted to go home or if I still wanted to go to Paidha. Press on (although I
think I said something more like I can’t go if I don’t have any cash). Lobu
wired money via MTN from Namulanda to Kampala (or wherever we wanted) for
Augustine to pick up on my behalf. Praise the Lord again for the simplicity of
getting money to Kampala and for Gabriel even having any money to send me and
for so willingly sacrificing it for me. Ronnie called to check on my little
broken heart too.
By now all the fixes were in place and the adrenaline shock
was wearing off. Something akin to feeling stupid (which, for those of you who
know me well, know this was the strongest of the variety of emotions), insecurity,
vulnerability, and fear began to settle in. Augustine, in his infinite wisdom
asked if he could pray for me. His soft sweet prayers were exactly what I
needed. I cannot even express how blessed I am to have so many friends who love
me.