The white metal van, with its little rubber wheels, rolled up the hill a mile away from Calvary Chapel in Jinja, Uganda towards a municipal hospital. Inside, a mix of a dozen newly arrived Americans and regulars from the congregation bumped along. The property had several simple long buildings with bare doorways and windows. Inside, iron beds ran along each side, exposing the soiled floor. There were no devices beeping, just the quiet whispers of family by bedsides.
During this routine ministry outreach, different groups visited various wards for tuberculosis, HIV and maternity patients. The nurses wore white paper-like hats and white rubber shoes, reminiscent of images from America in the 1960s. I saw no one administering care for over an hour on the grounds. Let me rephrase, Continue reading