As we celebrated Christmas this year, we can not help but think of Christmas pasts. These memories are filled with both joy and sorrow. Four years ago early Christmas morning we heard that Dave's mom had passed and this is my second Christmas without my mother on this earth.
We thought about our first Christmas in Africa.....
In early December 1993, Jana and I had been disfellowshipped, dined with expatriates empathetic to future genocidaires, were in Uganda with no missionary co-workers, and had yet to receive our household goods.
Finally, after months of arguing with the Uganda Revenue Authority, we relinquished. We would pay the taxes even though we did not believe we owed any. We paid tax on personal effects. We even paid tax on Bibles. We filled out the forms. We were told to come to the warehouse on Christmas Eve, 1993 to collect our household goods.
We came to the customs bonded warehouse early in the morning. No matter how difficult 1993 had been we anticipated on Christmas Eve we would receive our goods. We would go home and unpack and unload. Camping would end. We would sit on our furniture, sleep in our bed, eat from food preserved in our refrigerator, and cooked on our stove. Our toddler, Sophia would play with her old toys. We would be whole again.
We spent the day waiting. We missed lunch. We asked questions. Where was the man with the key to open the warehouse? He was gone, but he would be back we were told. We waited some more. We asked a few more questions. Then finally the end of the day came. The guards began ushering all out of the outskirts of the warehouse. No man with a key had come. We were lonely, tired, hungry, and more discouraged than we had ever been. We left realizing that for a day people had been polite, but there was no intention of us taking our possessions home on Christmas Eve.....
To read the rest of this story of our first Christmas in Africa check out our blog https://eadiasporacommunity.blogspot.com/2020/12/my-first-african-christmas.html |
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