I have told the following story verbally to many people who talk to me about my experiences in Uganda. I thought it was about time that I put it in writing. My only concern it that it will be too long. I have to break it up into two parts. So, here’s Part I.
My two friends and I arrived in Kampala on a Saturday afternoon in February, 2013. It was my first trip and we were staying at a ‘guesthouse’ at the top of a steep hill. At the base of that hill was a ‘babies home,’ an orphanage, caring for about 50 children ranging in age from newborn to 5 years old. We went down in the late afternoon/early evening to volunteer watching the children and assist the paid staff with some of their duties.