It was her first trip to Africa. She arrived late at night and had barely gotten up the next morning when word came to her: She had visitors.
Peggy says: “Unbelievable. In a city of 2 million people – a huge city, with all its refugee areas and slums that could take hours to walk across – that his family lived within walking distance.”
Arnold Nshombo, a refugee in Kampala, was standing in the lobby. His brother, Fidel Nshombo, also a refugee, lives in Boise. With Peggy’s hug in the lobby, the circle of a family, torn almost a world apart by war, was brought closer to completion.
“The small world thing struck me: We were seeing his family before he was.”
When Fidel was 12, armed rebels attacked his home and school in Congo. He fled; his family scattered. Fidel has his own harrowing story of escape and survival (read about it in a previous Heart of Treasure Valley), but for more than a decade, all he knew was that he was alone.
Fidel, now 26, has lived in Boise for three years. A year and a half ago, he learned through the Red Cross that his family was alive in Uganda. That joy is mingled with the frustration of limited finances and distance. Texts and e-mails have had to stand in for the hugs and the catching-up they would like to share in person.
Peggy: “(The family) saw us as channeling Fidel. They looked to us for that.”
The Boiseans – Peggy, her son Mike and his friend Seth Anderson – visited with the Nshombos a half-dozen times in the two weeks that they were in Uganda.
Fidel says: “My mom, she was touched. She said that being with Peggy, she forgot she was in Kampala; she thought she was in America. It was very touching for me.
“I knew they were going to see (my family). I didn’t know how much it would affect their life over there – and me, too, here. When I talked to my parents, I heard how much help they had been.”
The help has been going both ways. Boiseans Ruth and Keith York, who have become great friends to Fidel, created a nonprofit, called Boise to Bukavu (the capital of Congo), to help African refugees in Boise. When Fidel learned about his family, Boise to Bukavu shifted its resources to help the Nshombo children go to school and the family to become self-sufficient.
Peggy: “When I first saw their home, I thought, oh, they’re living in poverty. They live in a small place off a dirt road, everyone was squished together (11 people living in three rooms).
“As we spent more time in the country, I realized they were pretty well-off. They had electricity. Nobody has kitchens; they cooked outside on their stove. They didn’t have running water, but they didn’t have to go far and they had regular access.
“Those were all things that were not the norm. As we gained perspective, it’s evident that (Boise to Bukavu) has made a huge difference.”
Fidel and the Yorks had concerns about the family’s health issues. Peggy took medication for chronic eye infections with her and was able to examine “Mom-Fidel.” They had thought she might have multiple sclerosis.
Peggy: “When I had a chance to visit with her and examine her, I found out what it was. It’s horrific to think about.
“She was tortured, when their village was overrun by rebels. Her shoulders were probably dislocated from being pulled, with her arms behind her. É She had trouble even doing something like drinking tea; anything that required arm motion.
“The kids were really taking care of her. They were a wonderful family that way.”

Peggy was able to locate steroids, which would not cure, but would alleviate pain. The day she treated Fidel’s mother, whose name is Venacian, is a story about the difference in cultures – and what bridges them.
“They get there about 9 a.m. and I’m kind of thinking American style, which means you go in, prep the skin, draw up the injection, boom, boom, boom. But no. They sit and visit first. We have tea first. We have tea for a half-hour or 40 minutes and we talk about what we’re going to be doing and we talk about other things.
“Then we went into the next room to set up the procedure and there was more talking. If I had been evaluated in the United States for that given day, I would be fired. I did one injection and it took the entire morning.”
The difference is life in a single-pace, non-multi-tasking culture.
“ÉWhat’s happening now is what (Ugandans are) going to bring to full closure. And when that exchange is done, they’ll go to whatever is next. At times, (this way of living) drove me nuts. But you find yourself very soothed by it.”
From the family’s point of view, Peggy’s willingness to be with them was inexpressibly powerful.
Fidel: “They said the time (Peggy) spent hanging out, talking and laughing – that was the thing that meant so much inspiration to them. (My mother) said, ‘You’ve sent a lot of people here. This is the person we felt who really came here for us.’”
The Boiseans delivered neon-yellow T-shirts (a big hit) and an X-Box (also a hit) that Arnold had requested because they just got a television. They also took an autographed copy of Fidel’s book of poetry, letters, photos and first-hand reports.
Fidel says his mother had been worried – without really being able to say so – whether he was living by the high moral standards with which she had raised him; they had been separated for so many years and he was out of her influence.
Fidel: “Since Peggy returned, we have talked about things that we had not been able to talk about (before). (My family) used to have a lot of doubt, not telling me everything; they had some reserve.
“Since Peggy came, my mother has opened up, laughing, calling me the words you call your 2-year-old. Now we talk with a lot of love and smiles. It was a nice ice-breaker, broken by Peggy’s visit.”
Peggy reflects on the totality of her trip, the richness of the relationships with all the people she met.
Peggy: “Truthfully, I came back feeling much more connected and engaged. I feel like this is a long-term relationship, not just (in terms of doing) projects, but helping other people build connections. It is kind of a lifeline both ways.
Peggy remembers the parting words from their Ugandan guide, speaking on behalf of all Ugandans.
” ‘Don’t forget us.’ ”
She repeats his words thoughtfully.
“I think that translates to action – not just a memory.”
Know someone living “from the heart”? Idaho Statesman photojournalist Katherine Jones spotlights someone in the Treasure Valley who influences our lives not only by what they do, but how and why they do it. Do you know someone we should know? Call 377-6414 or e-mail kjones@idahostatesman.com.
Article Source: http://www.idahostatesman.com/life/story/1021984.html
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