Sara Summerfield: What Peeing in a Field Taught Me About Joy

 "Where are we urinating today?”

We had been there for several days, but it was the first day of our vacation Bible school and I was standing underneath a tree whose branches brushed the ground, taking it all in.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t understand you. Could you say that again?”

“Where are we urinating today?”

I heard her that time, but I had no idea what to say. Where are we urinating? She had to have meant where’s the bathroom. Surely there was a makeshift bathroom around here somewhere, right? I didn’t want to embarrass her (or myself for that matter) so I answered honestly and told her I wasn’t sure. Another child came by and directed her over to a part of the field that wasn’t being used. Later in the week I would find out for myself why a field was preferred to the bathrooms in the area.

That was my first introduction to the young girl who stuck by my side during the weeks I spent in Hoima, Uganda. Her name was Doctor, and later I would learn her siblings were Engineer, Pilot, and Lawyer. Their parents had named them what they hoped their future careers would be. They attended the vacation Bible school that we hosted every day and visited where we were housed any time the doors were open. 

Sara and Doctor at vacation Bible school

 

On the ride from the airport to the church where we were staying, I saw for myself the things I had only heard about or seen in movies or fundraising campaigns. The poverty was devastating. There were small children walking through the streets, reaching into our car windows and begging for money. There were tents for homes, and women and children carrying several gallons of water for miles. Most were barefoot and wore tattered clothes. I was seeing living situations that seemed unimaginable. Though it is hard for me to admit, seeing and experiencing these things made me put my guard up for the first several days we were there. Partially due to culture shock, and partially due to a heavy feeling of helplessness for the ways these people were having to live.

Those first few days were difficult, especially since I was holding back, afraid of immersing myself. I participated when I was asked or felt it was necessary, but I mostly stuck to watching from the sidelines. What I noticed was that despite the heaviness and sadness that I was feeling for these sweet people, everywhere we went and everyone we met seemed to be filled with pure joy. There was dancing and singing and jumping and laughing everywhere we went, whether to church or the soccer fields. It was quite incredible to me, and I couldn’t really understand how people who had so little could seem so happy.

When Doctor asked me that question on the first day of vacation Bible school, it somehow pulled me out of the mental space I was hiding in and into her reality, and not too long after, she and her friends came and physically pulled me out from underneath the tree. We held hands and they sang a song that we danced and jumped to together. Those girls shared their joy with me that day. The lives they were living were all that they knew, and they had no reason to do anything other than dance.

By nature, I am a fixer. The moment I encounter a problem, I begin firing off solutions in my brain. The feelings I had
in the beginning of my time in Uganda came from the reality that there were no practical solutions or changes I could make to “fix” what I saw as the problems of the people I was interacting with. I felt an overwhelming sense of grief and guilt that even on my worst days, I had so much more than these people, yet there was not much that I could do that would impact their physical situation in a permanent way. Though my experience with these precious girls began to lift me, what really shifted my mindset was a conversation I had a few days later.

I sat down one afternoon and had a conversation with a man who had gone on many mission trips before and reminded me that though I could compare these people’s lives to mine and had some idea of what I thought they were missing, they didn’t know anything different or any other type of lifestyle. That though it seemed terrible to me, they were joyful and thankful for all that they had, and that this was the best life that they knew. That was a helpful reminder, but it wasn’t until another conversation that my mindset began to shift. This person listened to my feelings and gave me this reminder: “You aren’t going to be able to fix their physical, earthly situation, and that’s really not what you’re here for. You are here to make a difference in their eternal situation.” Those words did help ease my mind about the tough physical situations I was seeing, but really, they impacted and shifted the whole focus of my trip. The poverty and devastation still upset me and made me sad some days, but I was able to remind myself that ultimately, I was there to tell them about Jesus and love them, and that that was the one way I could make a difference that would last beyond my time there.  

Doctor and her friends taught me a lesson that day. As I was asked where we were urinating and hit with the reality of what it really looks like to live in an impoverished place, they showed me what it looked like to choose joy. Who could choose anything else when jumping and dancing and singing with a group of beautiful girls? Since returning from Uganda, that moment is one I think back and reflect on often, and is a reminder that no matter the circumstances or situations I encounter, I can and should choose joy. 

Sara and her team at the Kampala airport

Sara Summerfield is an Early Childhood Education major with an emphasis in Montessori. During summer of 2019, she travelled to Uganda on a mission trip and worked in the cities of Hoima, Kaabong, and Kampala. Sara looks forward to graduating in spring of 2022 and will go on to be a teacher in South Carolina. 

Sara holding a sapling she planted at the future site of an orphanage she worked with