Thoughts from a Petrol Station

I stood there, at the petrol station, munching on a chapatti.  They are delicious.  These were especially good.  [Chapatti:  The Indian flat bread, now incredibly common and popular (easy to make) throughout Eastern Africa.]

Around me stood 3 young Ugandan men, and a young Ugandan woman.  They looks a little tired, the trip had been long and tiresome, the road a beast to travel over.   But they were happy to have some food after the journey.

We stood there.  Some eating chapattis, some sitting, some standing.  And a thought struck me.  We are an odd scene.  I have travelled all over Eastern Africa, and never, in almost 3 years here, have I seen a singular white person obviously surrounded by a group of Africans.  It was obvious, if you watched us for even a moment, that I was in charge of the group.  An odd scene in Uganda.

I remembered back, to another time when I had noticed the same thing.  It was when we were at the beach last year, for intern graduation.  It was me, and 6 wonderful Africans.  We watched the people around us.  A small group of white people, a small group of Africans.  Not mixing.  I made a comment to the people I was with, how rare it is to see a group of Africans with one white person.  It’s common to see a group of white people with one or two token Africans… their guides, or drivers, or hosts. 

My African counterparts agreed, they had never seen it.  The only time I have seen it is in our Cornerstone magazine.  There will be pictures of groups of African, and one white face… Tim or Eric, will pop up in a corner, or in the back.  My friend Antony as well, I see photos of him with large groups of Africans.   But otherwise… I have never seen it in real life.  It struck me again, standing at that petrol station in Masaka.  I am blessed.  I have a place with these great people. 

I’m not trying to make a big deal of “skin color”… it’s a weird thing to me.  But I think it is beautiful, somehow, to be truly with the Africans I serve.  To turn the tables, and I hope helps to break down walls.   

My interns call me Mama, and it warms my heart.  They learn money doesn’t come from me, but just love and direction.  I am proud of them, I am proud of what I do, of my team, my people, and the weird picture we make standing at a petrol station.

But that’s not the end of the petrol station.  We were literally just standing there.  The interns had no idea what was going on. I casually tried a few phone numbers, no one picked up their phones.  We ate our chapattis. 

I knew bodas were an option, but I had a feeling we should wait… just wait and see. 

Then I saw Fred.  But he didn’t see me.  He was filling his gas tank.  All the sudden, Stella was standing at my elbow.  “What are you doing here, Noelle?  Why are you just standing here?”  I laughed, and honestly answered “Oh, I  was just waiting to see what would happen”  Stella looked at me slightly confused.

“Are you headed to Delta?” I ask her.  “Yes, right now. This very moment” she answers “Let me go buy some things, then we can talk.”   I tell the interns that we’re going to walk across the parking lot to Fred’s car.  Finally he sees me, and gives me a beautiful smile and a hug.  We talk casually, and I introduce the new interns.  Stella comes back.

“Were you waiting for someone Noelle?”  … “No, not really, just waiting to see what would happen” I answered honestly.   “Can you take some of these young people with you?” 

They responded that they could.  Opening the trunk they easily packed all the luggage into the boot, and the 4 interns squeezed themselves in the back seat.  I smile. 

Found in Masaka, we just saved a lot of money and time.

“I’ll meet you there.  Let me grab a boda (motorcycle taxi).  See you there!”  I said as they drove away.

Stella, Fred and little Gaby.  (Number 2 soon!)

 

I don’t know how many times I’ve been to Masaka, or that petrol station.  I breathed.  I knew that something would happen, and it did.  I don’t know what the interns thought of the whole thing, the odds were weird, providential.  But I was glad they got to see how these things can work, how eating chapattis at a petrol station can bring unexpected (or somewhat expected) surprises.  

 I think for our interns, and the other young people at the Masaka Youth Camp, the 6 days spent together was an unexpected surprise in their lives.  It was a time to learn, to grow, to make friends, and to be given wisdom for the future.  It impacted their lives in a profound way, and gave many of them the tools they need to make positive, life changing choices for the future.  

You never know what lessons you can learn at a petrol station in Masaka.