On Being 33, Mormon and Single

I originally wrote this piece in March 2013 for an institute class assignment on Why I Believe. It was partly inspired as a response to a poignant NYTimes Modern Love Column entitled Single, Female, Mormon, Alone. Processing, writing and sharing these thoughts has been transformative for me.

My brother who is nine years younger than me got married over Christmas. It was the first time all four of the Nuckols kids had been home together for Christmas in over five years. It was a time of rejoicing and fun, but there were still a couple hard moments for me. One was during my 20-year-old sister-in-law’s bridal shower where I felt like all the older women looked upon me with sadness and pity and all the younger girls looked up at me with dread thinking, “Oh man, I hope that’s never me!”

This moment triggered a little hissy fit with God. “I don’t understand! I don’t get it!” I screamed in my head. I was taught that if I didn’t date before I was 16, if I kept the law of chastity and if I was an obedient missionary, then You would bless me with a husband and a family! How is it that so many of the "rebellious" girls I've known have been blessed with what I worked so hard to deserve? How is it that some of the men I have known who have left trails of pain and betrayal behind them have had all their romantic dreams come true? Where is the karma in that?

Please don’t let people tell me that if I don’t marry and have kids in this life, then I can receive that blessing in the next. To me that sounds like my best chance for fulfilling my dreams is to go and get hit by a bus. The alternative is 50 more years of living alone, without sex, without romantic love, without children, and with pity from all. While I do believe that this life is just one moment in my existence and that in the end, You will make everything right, just waiting for blessings for the next life is a horrible way to have to live this life.

Also, why have You given me a commandment that is essential to my exaltation that seems so out of my power to keep? This key to my “fullness of joy” is completely dependent on someone else’s agency, as well as on my own random feelings of attraction and chemistry that seem so impossible to predict or control.  

So, there you have it: the gist of my hissy fit. I have had fits like this before, and I’m sure that I will have more like it again, but I have learned how to get myself out of that dark, bitter place and how to have peace.

The first thing that I remember is that God doesn’t owe me anything. When I start to spiral down with thoughts of why not me? Why her? I realize how prideful and entitled I sound. Because I am not getting what I think I deserve, I start to resent God. But the reality is that I am less than the dust of the earth. I am a fallen, mortal woman. As King Benjamin so artfully explained, I am already in debt to Him for my life and for the air that I breathe and for the great gift of the Atonement. Every time He blesses me, I become more in debt to Him. Instead of resentment, I owe Him gratitude.

On the other hand, God does tell us that He is bound when we do what He says, that all blessings are predicated upon obedience and that He will keep His promises to us. I think that this is another one of God’s great paradoxes: He does keep His promises to me, yet at the same time, He doesn’t owe me. Most importantly, the way that He fulfills His promises may not be in ways that I expect or understand. I can not dictate to Him how or when He will bless me.

I have also been able to progress from my youthful sense of doing what is right in order to get what I want, to a sense of doing what is right because it is the right thing to do. I want to be obedient because I love feeling spiritually connected to God, not because I am hoping for some specific reward.   

Another thing that gives me greater perspective is remembering that the purpose of life is to be refined. When Sister Oaks spoke at a broadcast a couple years ago, I thought about what my life would be like if, like her, I didn't marry until my 50's and remained faithful and devoted in the Church until then. It struck me what a refining and purifying experience it would be to work to keep feelings of resentment, bitterness, and hopeless at bay for the next 20 years. It would be a very long and intense exercise in fostering gratitude, humility and hope.

In the church, we are frequently told that our greatest purpose on earth, the best and most useful thing we could ever do is to have a family. However I think that our true purpose on earth is to have our natures changed so that we become more like Christ. The family is a great training ground for putting off the natural man: sacrificing for and loving children and a spouse can change and refine your character if you let it. Ultimately celestial marriage is a necessary component to exaltation, but there are other ways for us to learn and to grow and to become who God wants us to become outside of marriage. I am confident that God will give us the opportunities for refinement that we need in this life in order to reach our individual potential.

The third thing that helps me to stay focused is remembering that life is not perfect. The scriptures are full of stories of righteous people who suffered and never had their dream life. Yet a lot of modern-day Mormon stories that we hear in conference or read in the Ensign all have happy endings. There is a subtext to these stories that if you are a good Mormon, then you too can have a happy, wealthy, well-coiffed, well-dressed family. But the older I get, the more I see good, righteous people not living the idyllic life they dreamed of.

When I step back and see the way in which every life has its trials and its disappointments and its heartaches and its un-hoped for and unwanted circumstances, I feel less alone. I feel part of the great, mortal human family. You can’t have kids. You have an addiction. Your husband betrayed you. Your child has a disability. This all kind of sucks, but we agreed to come to this fallen challenging world. What can we to do grow from our circumstances and experience joy in this life?

I also draw strength from moments of comfort and reassurance from God. One day, when I was a 6th grade teacher, I had a student who kept raising her hand and asking to go to the bathroom in the middle of the lesson. I didn’t want her to miss some key moments of instruction, and I knew that I would be done soon, so I told her no. She kept on pestering me until I looked directly at her and said, “Shauna. At the appropriate time, I will let you go the bathroom.” As I firmly said those words, a line from my patriarchal blessing jumped into my mind: “At the appropriate time in your life, you will fulfill the secret desires of your heart.” In that moment, I understood those words in a whole new way. There may be something that I want really really badly right now - the same way my student really really wanted to go to the bathroom - but God is my teacher and He knows what is best for me and when it will be the optimal time to respond to my requests. Elder Scott said, “With even your strongest faith, God will not always reward you immediately according to your desires. Rather, God will respond with what in His eternal plan is best for you, when it will yield the greatest advantage.”

A couple years ago, I was struggling with a relationship that I had been very hopeful about but that seemed to be stalling out. I was frustrated and discouraged, and one Sunday morning I was listening to the Mormon Tabernacle Choir sing “I believe in Christ.” They were singing the last verse with the very dramatic buildup to the line “His voice is heard: YE SHALL OBTAIN!” I felt the Spirit so strongly in that moment witness to me that yes, I will obtain. Even then, I had the foresight to recognize that I may not obtain that particular boy (which clearly, I didn’t), but I felt God’s comfort and awareness of me. I don’t when or how I “will obtain,” but these moments of reassurance give me the courage to keep on in faith.

Finally, I take inspiration from Shadrach, Meshach, and Abed-nego. In a conference talk in 2004, Elder Simmons quoted them telling King Nebuchadnezzar in Daniel 3:17-18 that “If it be so [that you cast us into the furnace], our God whom we serve is able to deliver us from the burning fiery furnace, and he will deliver us out of thine hand. But if not, … we will not serve thy gods, nor worship the golden image which thou hast set up.”

The key phrase in that verse is “but if not.” They had faith that God could and would deliver them, but even if He didn’t, they promised to remain true. Their faith was not based on a particular outcome, but was based in complete trust in Jesus Christ.

Elder Simmons concluded his talk by making modern-day parallels to that verse of scripture: “Our God has the power to deliver us from sickness and disease, but if not … . He has the power to deliver us from loneliness, depression, or fear, but if not. … He will deliver us from death or impairment of loved ones, but if not.... We will receive a perfect companion and righteous and obedient children, but if not, … we will have faith in the Lord Jesus Christ, knowing that if we do all we can do, we will, in His time and in His way, be delivered and receive all that He has.

When I die -- whether I get hit by a bus or not -- I want to die as a woman of God. I want to come out of mortality not jaded and bitter and resentful, but humble, grateful and full of love. No matter my trial, no matter my disappointments, no matter my sense of injustice about this mortal life, I want to remain a woman of faith.

Trader Joe's - Bringing People Together

I almost broke into an ecstasy-induced panic when I walked into Trader Joe's this week and saw that all their holiday fare had arrived: peppermint joe joe's, dark chocolate stars, books of dark chocolate bars from around the world, multi-flavored caramels, peppermint bark, tri-colored cubes of fudge.

I was like a kid in a candy store. Except that I'm an adult, and I couldn't figure out how I could purchase and eat all of these items without getting sick. I ended up settling on a box of dark chocolate star cookies and a slab of chocolate bark -- assuring myself that this was only the beginning.

The elevator ride to the parking garage seemed too long to wait, so I opened up my box of dark chocolate stars and announced to the other four people in the elevator how excited I was to have these seasonal favorites back again.

One of the women responded, "Oh, I just got the mint version of the chocolate stars. Have you tried those?"
Me: "No, I haven't!"
Woman in elevator: "Here, let me give you one."

She rips open her box, and then the older couple next to me say that they have never tried either version of these cookies.

Suddenly we're all sharing and sampling and eating and rejoicing together in the goodness that is Trader Joe's.

All this transpired in the one-floor elevator ride between the parking garage and the store. Time must have stood still for us.

Thanks, TJ's, for bringing strangers together one chocolate star at a time.

And the winner is...

Thank you everyone so much for your support and encouragement!

I was so overwhelmed by the number of blog, email and facebook responses. I have the best friends.

If you didn't win - don't worry - you can still get the book on amazon (and on kindle!) or at deseretbook.

Do Not Attempt In Heels book release and giveaway

I wrote a chapter in a book that is going to be published next week! The book is a compilation of essays written by and for sister missionaries and is called Do Not Attempt in Heels.

My chapter is called The First Three Months: Diary of a Greenie, and it chronicles my struggles adjusting to missionary life through my journal entries. 

My hope is that it will help future missionaries know that it's OK if you don't fall in love with your mission right away. Even though I had wanted to be a missionary my whole life, even though I had worked hard to prepare, and even though I had already lived abroad and learned a new language before, the first three months of my mission kicked my butt. Because I was under the illusion that everyone loved every moment of their mission, I felt really guilty about it. Hopefully this chapter will help dispel that myth.

The books' editors are Elise Babbel, a friend of mine from college, and Jenn Rockwood, a family friend from growing up. I was so excited when Elise asked me if I would be willing to write a chapter, and even more excited when they accepted my submission.

I'm going to do a book giveaway here on my blog on our release day, Tuesday Feb 11th. To enter the giveaway, just leave a comment, any comment! Just make sure that your comment has a name on it and isn't "anonymous," so that I know how to track you down if you are the winner. 

On Tuesday, February 11th, I will video myself doing the drawing and then post the video and the results. Good luck! 

Here are some other ways you can help spread excitement around the release:

- pre-order the book for $11.99 on amazon here

- like our facebook page here

- check out the official website here

- spread the word to your family and friends
- stay tuned for our official book trailer video, and then help it go viral

This book is perfect for women who are considering whether or not to go on a mission, women who are on a mission, women who have served missions or anyone who is curious about the sister missionary experience. 

The book will also be available for purchase at Desert Book stores and Seagull Book stores and on their respective websites www.deseretbook.com and www.seagullbook.com.

Here are the first five journal entires from the beginning of my chapter. To see what happens with my next companion, what happens when I have an allergic reaction to mangoes, and whether or not I finally figure it all out, you'll have to get the book! 

Tuesday, July 16, 2002

Sister Nuckols has embarked! My time at the CTM has ended, and I am about to missionary as soon as this plane lands in João Pessoa. Holy excitement! I’m not nervous or worried or sad, just peaceful and ready. I already miss my two great CTM companions, but in a few hours, I will have a mission president, a companion, and an area. I have felt the searing power of the Holy Ghost confirm to me the reality of the existence of God, of the Savior, of the Book of Mormon. It is all true! I love it and am privileged to be a part of it.

Thursday, July 18, 2002

Oh my gosh! This is so hard. I’m in shock. I’ve been all teary these last two days. I cried last night when I was going to bed, and again when Sister Santos (another missionary in my house) asked if there was anything she could do to help me. This morning, I did a good job holding it in until I got into the shower, but when the cold water hit the back of my neck, I sobbed. Later, I had to say a prayer at the home of one of our investigators, and as soon as I said, ‘Pai Celestial’ (Heavenly Father), I lost it. I felt the Spirit a lot while we were teaching, but as soon as we would walk outside into the street, I would start to cry again.

What am I doing here?! There was one good hour today in the middle of the afternoon when I was able to focus and get some memorizing done (I have to get all theses discussions passed off!) but for the most part, I have been walking around in a shocked daze. Yesterday the excitement from the airport wore off, and I didn’t even have the desire to go out and contact and it was my FIRST day! My companion, Sister W, does not like tracting or contacting people and I think that we spent too much time visiting members. The hours between 2 p.m., when lunch ends, and 9:30, when we go home, seem SO LONG especially because we do not have things scheduled.

This is a bigger sacrifice than I ever before realized. A year seems impossibly long, not to mention sixteen more months.

Friday, July 19, 2002

I had a good cry today at lunch and let it all out. What if this emotional overload is just PMS? Sometimes it seems like I’m watching a movie of someone else’s life, because this does not feel like my reality. When the Lord asks us to sacrifice all that we have and all that we are, He was not asking for a little. This is the big time! I really feel the magnitude of this sacrifice. I don’t even have time to explore or enjoy the culture because it’s all about teach, teach, teach. I can’t really imagine this level of intensity for sixteen more months: an endless Sabbath!

Saturday, July 20, 2002

I’ve been praying so much during free time that I have hardly been working on memorizing at all. I’ve needed so much help! I’ve especially needed help controlling my thoughts and keeping them focused on people here, and not elsewhere, or on other people from other parts of my life.

Tuesday, July 23, 2002

My first zone meeting left me in tears, The whole thing was just so discouraging. Once again, it seemed like I was watching a movie of someone else’s life. We walked in and found the elders wrestling each other in the gym, and then once the meeting started, I had a hard time understanding them as they shared tactics about how to find more men to teach. The gathering also made me feel isolated and unknown: I’m really not part of this group yet, of this culture of the João Pessoa mission.

We walked all the way back to our area from the zone meeting and then we walked even further to our lunch appointment. I’m grateful that I felt divine strength sustaining me when I really should not have been able to walk anymore. Later in the day, Sister W and I stopped at a member’s home to set up an appointment with her, and she made us fried meat cakes and put church music on in the background. As I shared my little message with her from 3 Nephi 11:15, I felt the strength of the Spirit and the strength of that woman. She nourished us both physically and spiritually.

seminary, my love

The Book of Mormon map that we created as a class.
The dude with the glasses is Gideon, and King Noah is burning in the green circle.

My first week of teaching seminary (daily, early-morning religion class for Mormon high school students) felt a lot like the first week of having a new boyfriend.
I felt hopeful, excited and giddy -- with some nerves -- all week.
I had a hard time focusing on anything else and spent a lot of time daydreaming -- about the next day's lesson.
Like a new love interest, seminary is the last thing I think about before I go to sleep, and the first thing I think about when I wake up.
I have already started ignoring friends and family. (Sorry I missed your birthday, Grampe!)
And I am completely exhausted: both boyfriends and getting up at 5:00 a.m. every day will have that effect.

Uganda (3 of 3): Reflections

A few days after I got home from Uganda, I was standing in the check-out line at Safeway while simultaneously checking my phone and reading gossip magazine headlines. When I got to my cashier, I said "paper," looked back down at my phone, and then a few minutes later said "thanks," and walked away.

Suddenly I realized that I never would have behaved like that in Uganda. While I was there, I felt acutely aware of my Whiteness, of my privilege, and of my ignorance of their cultural norms, so I made a conscious effort to be deferential and respectful. When I checked out at a store, asked for directions or met someone new, I made eye contact and tried to be as gracious as possible.

As a guest in someone else's country, I have a certain responsibility to be courteous, but it made me wonder why I don't give my own countrymen the same level of respect and engagement. I want to do better at that.

Something else I realized once I returned home was how conscientiously observant I was in Uganda. As we drove along the highway or walked through a neighborhood, I noticed every detail: the structure and pattern of the buildings, the shape and color of the trees, the design and construction of the roads, the smell and presentation of the food, the language and layout of billboards. 

My mind rarely wandered because it was so focused on seeing and processing this new environment. I was fully present.

At home, my surroundings are so routine and mundane that I do not notice them anymore -- even though I live in a stunning part of the country. I want to practice using my Uganda eyes; I want to be a tourist in my own life, so that I notice and appreciate the uniqueness and beauty around me. 

(Photographs courtesy of trip participant, Kiera McLane)

Uganda (2 of 3): Experiences

One purpose of the African Promise Foundation trip is to expose participants to the history, culture and challenges of Uganda. Another is to give back and serve in some ways. We got to participate in many cool projects, most of which were memorable learning experiences for us. (Some of this text is courtesy Hold B, an old college friend who joined me on the trip.) 

We distributed a lot of reusable female hygiene kits in conjunction with Days for Girls. 
Days for Girls is an amazing organization with the goal to keep girls in school by providing them with cloth menstrual kits that they can wash and re-use. While this may seem unappealing to those of used to the convenience and privilege of disposable feminine hygiene products, it is a wonderful alternative to rags, sticks and rocks, or to being home-bound during menstruation. Check out the Days for Girls website and learn how to sew and assemble the kits. It's a wonderful service project for girls' and women's groups!

Click here to see a video of me demonstrating to a group of girls how to use the kit.

One set of kits was from a group of Mormon teenage girls,
 and they included a card and a picture of themselves.

We took children swimming. 

We reserved a swimming pool at a hotel in Gulu and gave orphaned and disabled children from St. Jude's Children's Home the opportunity to swim: for many it was the first time they had ever been in the water! Thanks to several generous APF donors, we had new swimsuits waiting for the kids to wear, and after swim time, each child received a warm meal and a new outfit to wear home. 

Even though we could not permanently improve the condition of each of these child's lives, we were able to provide them with a memorable experience that was a happy respite from their daily routine. I think that providing experiences is an interesting variation to international work that is different from donating tangibles goods.

We went with a Aid Africa to learn about and distribute rocket stoves. 

For Ugandan women who live in huts and cook over wood-burning stoves, smoke is one of their worst dangers: in addition to fire risk, it causes asthma and blindness in children. Aid Africa developed these innovate stoves that are cost effective and fuel efficient which results in dramatically reduced rates of smoke emission.

We went with Aid Africa to learn how to drill a well. 
Eighty percent of preventable illness in Uganda originate from contaminated water. Streams in the villages are often polluted by grazing livestock, which was the case in the village we were scheduled to help today.  Before locating a new well site, we visited the existing draw point: plenty of hoofprints and a conspicuous gray hue to the water. We joined volunteers and staff from Aid Africa in setting up a drill stand, complete with pulley and a rope for human power.  Our women got right in there with the men, getting muddy as they guided the heavy metal bore down the well shaft.  

This is how they collected water before getting a well.

We were the guests of honor at a prison.
Across the street from our lodging at St. Monica's School, Gulu Prison houses about 1000 prisoners.  Only a third have actually been convicted; the rest are still awaiting trial, some longer than two years. APF donated mattresses and other supplies last year, and was invited back again this year to visit (thanks to some help from Sister Asunta).  We expected to deliver soap to the men, and kits and toiletries for the women.  But what a surprise was in store for us!  

Nearly all the prisoners were assembled in the yard in the afternoon sun, while we sat under the veranda as honored guests.  The prisoners treated us to music using handmade instruments, theatre dramas, and games.  The second band performed a rousing piece with a Caribbean feel, and we simply couldn't stay in our seats!  Later we had the chance to purchase some  of the handicrafts made on site.  Frederick told us later that the prisoners wanted us to know that they appreciated being approached as fellow brothers and sisters.  Gulu prison rarely receives visitors at all...we were so privileged to be treated to such a performance.

We met our beaders.

We traveled northwest out of Gulu to a village in Awer (pronounced "away") to purchase beads from a goup of women there.  They greeted us with traditional dancing and drumming before we all settled under the mango trees for introductions and viewing their beadwork.  They had also prepared a traditional meal for us.  We all left with several pieces of jewelry and full stomachs.  

Finally, we visited Tribe, another beaders group.  We were stunned at the amount of beadwork available by this group of about 20 women.  After emptying our wallets, we were saying our goodbyes when the women honored Suzy by singing a song thanking her for hard work for Africa, and each woman placed a necklace around her neck.

Something that I struggled with writing this post and with this trip in general was my fear of falling into the White Savior complex. This complex is the patronizing attitude of "Oh, look at you poor suffering people who don't know how to take care of yourselves. I am so generous and wonderful that I will teach you my ways and make your life better. Let me be your White hero, and then I can go home and tell the other White people how wonderful I am." 

The White Savior complex is common in films that have a White hero who rescues people of color. (Some examples include The Blind Side, The Help, Avatar, Blood Diamond, Dances with Wolves, Dangerous Minds, Glory Road, Freedom Riders.) This is a great piece written by an African man in The Atlantic about the White Savior complex after the film Kony 2012 was released.

I tried to keep this attitude in check, and I saw my visit to Uganda primarily as a cultural learning experience, but I don't claim to be beyond fault in this area. I know that I am guilty of it. At the same time, I don't think that fear of the White Savior complex is justification for inaction. International development work is so nuanced and complicated. Sigh. 

Uganda (1 of 3): Friends

Five months later and the posts about my Uganda trip are finally here! Thank you for your patience, faithful readers. I think I was overwhelmed by the amount of pictures to cull through and the amount of stories to retell. (Plus formatting pictures and text on blogger is horrible! Sorry for the weird formatting.)

I was nervous about this trip. My foreign travel have always been alone or in a small group of friends with The Lonely Planet guiding our improvisations along the way. We are discreet. We ride public transportation. We spend as much time as possible with locals. We try to speak quietly and to pretend that we can blend in. 

Traveling with African Promise Foundation was a different experience: we were 14 boisterous American women wearing matching bright-colored shirts traveling together in a tour bus.

As soon as we were in country, I was hypersensitive about our presence. But after a few days with many opportunities to connect with individual Ugandans, I felt more at ease. Connecting with local people is the thing that I love most about traveling, and even though there were a lot of us, we could often break off from the pack and have private moments with individuals.

I want to introduce you to some of the awesome Ugandans I got to know:

Fredrick Ocaya Bese

Fredrick is an engineer educated at the University of Surrey in the UK, and he is a devoted member of Rotary International. He has taken on African Promise Foundation as his primary Rotary volunteer projects. He finds and screens all the students that we sponsor, and we send him the money to pay their school fees. He took a week off of work from his company, Frontline Engineering and Investments, in order to be our personal tour guide through Gulu, his home town. He met up with us every morning and stayed with us until the evening, acting as our both our language interpreter and cultural mediator. With great charisma and diplomacy, he would answer all of our questions and tell us how to act culturally appropriate. One night he took us to his favorite dance club. 

One of the all-time highlights of the trip was when he had us over to dinner at his parents' house. His mom spent all day preparing a huge traditional feast for us. Frederick's siblings and other friends came too; there were more than 25 of us sitting in plastic chairs in a wide circle around the cement dining room. After the meal, we spent about two hours doing formal introductions by the light of a camping stove because the power had gone out. Frederick added "supplements" to everything we said about ourselves. Because I was Suzy's assistant, when he gave my "supplement," he referred to me as Joe Biden. Best compliment ever!

Rogers

Our driver, Rogers, was with us for the entire 10 days, and we had a complicated relationship with him. He was quiet, awkward, and because his English wasn't very good, we never knew for sure that he knew where he was going. But he never got lost, and he drove us very safely over dirt-filled, pot-hole-filled, motorcycle-filled, and water-filled roads. We often clapped when he got us through particularly rough patches.

When we were out in the National Park, there was some panic in the bus when we got stuck in the mud, but he remained calm, recruited helpers (anti-poaching police), and got us moving again. When we got a flat tire, he showed equal sangfroid. I think that he quite enjoyed the challenge of these little misadventures.

Early on in the trip, he told us that he was married and had two daughters named Precious and Precious. We could not figure out why he had named his two daughters the same thing and tried to get him to explain how he would tell them apart.  It wasn't until the last day of the trip when we asked him again that we realized that he was saying "Precious and Patience." Aha!

George

George works for a non-profit called Aid Africa and coordinates their projects with local villages. One day, he invited us to go with him to distribute rocket stoves in a village, and the next day, we went with him to drill a well in another village. It was amazing to see him in action. Gender norms and rules are very strong in Uganda which result in the women doing almost everything from child care to "digging" (farming/cultivating/gardening). When George was doing his spiel in the village community center about the rocket stoves, there was a snotty crying baby in the front row. George picked him up and held the little boy's naked bottom while he spoke. It was a powerful example of a Ugandan man showing warmth and care for a child.

George is loud, funny and engaging, and immediately
gained the respect of every village crowd he talked to. When we went with him to drill a well, he explained the whole process to the village, and then walked around for just a minute before he spotted the place he wanted to drill. (Near big trees and where the ground has a slight decline.) He is married and has two kids and was himself raised in a village and is dedicated to improving the lives of villagers even if he does not make much money doing it. His wife used to run a hair and nail salon, but her salon burned down, so now she does home visits.

Sister Assumpta

Sadly, I don't have a picture of Sister Assumpta, but these are some
of her students at St. Monica's Tailoring School.

Sister Assumpta is the acting nun in charge of the girls school where we stayed called St. Monica's Tailoring School for Girls. They have an extra series of dorm rooms that they rent out to foreign visitors like us. The founder of the school, Sister Rosemary, gained international fame when she was named a CNN hero of the year, but she was out of the country while we were there, so all of our interactions were with Sister Assumpta. She is a devoted Catholic nun who worked tirelessly to make sure that we were comfortable and to help set up some of our projects. We would call her numerous times a day, and she was always willing to answer our questions and to provide us with assistance. Her entire life is dedicated to improving the lives of the girls at the school. 

Sofie is third from the right, wearing a brown dress.
Her daughter, who does all the bookkeeping, is wearing the bright blue dress.

Sofie

This woman runs a cooperative of beaders in Kampala. All the women she works with either have AIDS or are HIV positive. Most of the beading cooperatives have a foreigner working to source paper, sell, manage and coordinate. Not this woman. She runs the whole collective herself and is a strong and meticulous manager. We put in a special order of beads with her and got great results.

Florence and Irene 
A senior missionary couple serving in the local Mormon ward in Gulu found out that we were coming and wanted to help us with some of our projects. The wife came with us to distribute reusable menstrual kits at a local school, and she brought along with her two members of the ward: Florence and Irene. Florence is a widow and the mother of 10. She joined the church about a year ago and is currently serving as the ward Relief Society president. Irene has been a member a few years, is married to a dead-beat man and has a toddler. They both helped us to translate our presentations into Acholi, and Irene would do wonderful embellishments that made our explanations even better. She was so friendly and warm, and we formed an instant bond. 

Clare Acan

Clare was educated in international non-profit work at the best university in the country. Her mom is a member of the Ugandan National Assembly, and Clare started her own non-profit organization called Women and Children Protection Initiative. She told me that it is great that foreigners come in and start NGO's in her country, "but we know better what we need." She was one of many people we met who love their country and are truly devoted to working - for practically nothing - in order to make it a better place. I was so impressed with her work, and she and I really hit it off. She also gave me insight into what it's like to be an educated single woman in her 30's in Uganda - turns out it's a lot like here.  

Alex

Suzy met Alex at the airport when he was returning home to Uganda after his two-year mission in Zimbabwe. She quickly learned that he was coming home to no one. His parents were both dead and his siblings were dispersed and not supportive of his mission. Suzy took him under her wing for a few days and they have remained in touch, so he met up with us in Kampala for the last few days of our trip. He took a course on chauffeuring and now he works as a driver for an American family at the US Embassy. 

When he found out that I had served a mission, he was so excited: "You served a mission?! I served a mission! We have so much in common." He immediately told me how badly he wants to get married, and asked me if I was interested. I declined the offer, but that didn't keep him from trying to steal a kiss from me at dinner.

Jennifers
Every time we would introduce ourselves to a group, there was always a little cheer or laugh when I would say my name because - who knew? - Jennifer is a common name in Uganda. I would make a special effort to introduce myself individually to the other Jennifers in the group and to get to know them. Here are a few of them.