It has been a Joyeux Noël (Merry Christmas) this year. It began with 3 days of meetings at the Shituru church plant. We met Sunday through Tuesday and the choir came from another church with their keyboard. Pastor Kabamba preached from Ezekiel. An interesting choice for Christmas but as he proclaimed dry bones would live the Holy Spirit came down and moved in power! The presence of God was so strong in our little bar we use as a church. People’s lives were touched as we cried out to God together for His will to be done in our lives.
I did a separate program outside with all of the children. Children is so not my area but the pastors said they were going to kick the kids out of the church because they would disturb the service so I felt I didn’t have a choice. I have identified some teenage girls who are great with the kids. Right now they are leading the children’s choir. I have ordered a curriculum for children in francophone Africa. Please pray that it arrives as mailing things to Africa is always a gamble. I think that with a curriculum those girls could do an awesome job of teaching the kids the word of God.
On Saturday we had a big Christmas part for the kids. It was quite the event. We had somewhere between 200 and 300 kids. The 70 orphans we have been working with plus the 50 other kids that come to our church showed up and so did every other kid in the area it seemed. We met on our land we bought to build the church which is a wonderful location with plenty of room for games. We began by explaining why we were celebrating and explained the story of Christmas. We sang and sang.
Afterwards we played games. We did three legged races, sac races, football matches, water games, jump roping, and some Congolese games I learned for the first time. The little kids colored pages from the Christmas story and we had a blast. I have been praying for some time that God would keep the rain from falling during our program. At 8 when I arrived the sky was gray with rain clouds and by 9 it had begun to sprinkle but God was faithful as He always is to answer our prayers and the sprinkling stopped and we had no rain until 5 after our program was over! It was a big miracle. After games we went to our church where the food had been prepared. We had bukari (in Zambia nsima basically thick grits or corn mush), fish, and beans, with popcorn, cookies, and candy. I thought some people might get trampled in the process though. Congolese people aren’t good at patience so they pushed and shoved to get to the front of the line. It was chaotic but we all survived.
I am so thankful for all the people who came together to help out. Mama Isa, our church administrator took over all the food. She assembled a team of women to cook the food, put her kids to work stuffing bags with candy. It was wonderful to not have to even think about that part of the party because I knew she had it totally under control. We had about 15 teenagers helping with the games and hauling water up the hill for our water games as well as doing crowd control during the eating time. Then the pastoral team was helping me with whatever I needed. I appreciate their patients with my poor Swahili as I attempted to explain the games and the concept of a rotation from game to game.
We also gave out noise makers which were a huge hit with the kids. In fact Sunday everywhere we went we heard kids blowing on them. I’m sure their parents love me. On Sunday countless children ran up to me and shook my hand saying “Da Sheri merci beacoup.” I couldn’t help but feel I was unjustly getting the thanks. So I pass it on to all of you now. Thank you for your support through prayers, encouragement, and financial contributions. A special thank you to the church who gave the money for the party.
I’ve recently found some other expatriates who live in this area of Congo. We got into a conversation about the street children and I passed on to them all of the information I had. They said they would like to do something for the kids for Christmas and I suggested buying shoes. We gave out 70 pairs of shoes to the street kids many who had previously been walking around barefooted. Every time I go into town they chase me down just to say thank you.
I also found out who the Samaritan Purse’s Operation Christmas Child representative is in this area and organized to get Christmas boxes for each of the almost 100 orphans Noah Ministries is working with as well as the over 200 street kids in Likasi. The boxes are being collected now in the US and will arrive here in March or April next year. I have worked with OCC in Zambia and know from experience how much joy it brings to children who would have otherwise received nothing for Christmas. It will be especially exciting here because I don’t think the street kids have any toys at all.
Hopefully on Wednesday I will go to Lubumbashi to spend Christmas with some other Americans. It’ll be great to have running water and internet for a few days. Speaking English is always a treat too. It’ll also be nice to go to our church their. One of my friends recently had a child I haven’t seen yet. If everything goes according to plan on the 28th I’ll go down to Zambia for a month. I’m looking forward to seeing old friends, working with the churches and orphans in Zambia, and of course speaking English and Tonga! Please pray for safe travel.
22 December 2009
10 December 2009
Buying a Motorcycle in Congo
When I was in America I was so blessed to receive the money to buy a motorcycle. Since August when I got back I’ve been doing my homework trying to find the best one. First I had to go to all of the government offices asking what I would need and how much everything would cost. Everything is a scam and corrupt in this country. The insurance government run program demands that you pay them but in the case of an accident wouldn’t give you a penny. In each office they wanted money before they would even tell me the price. Thankfully I pulled the missionary card and convinced them to tell me without a bribe. Then inevitable someone in the government office will ask me to marry them and that’s my queue to leave. One office I had the hardest time finding. It turns out that’s because it no longer exists. They changed buildings and then separated the division and then decided it was no longer necessary for motorcycles to have license plates.
The funny part about it all is most people in Congo never bother to get their government documents. The country is corrupt so there is a large police force whose sole occupation is blowing a whistle and then asking for money. So whether you have your documents of not they’ll demand you pay them money. I’m trying to do the right thing and follow what I can figure out about the system that supposedly exists but each step of the way I realize why so few others do.
Next I had to find places selling motorcycles. In Likasi there are maybe 100 tiny shops that may have one or 2 motorcycles for sale. It took days to go into each shop and discover who had what. Then I had to investigate the Chinese name brands to discover which ones were at least better than others. A lot of people have motorcycles around here so I would just ask them questions about theirs. They always thought it was hilarious and informed me that women can’t ride motorcycles.
Then it was time to haggle down the price. Some people see my white skin and jack up the price. They don’t think I need a discount because I am obviously a millionaire (and that’s why I live without running water because I have so much money). So some people get offended that you even ask them to change the price. Finally you find a reasonable person and I thought I had found my motorcycle. I went in to test it to be sure it worked then buy it. I had informed the shop keeper of my intentions a week before so everything would be ready. When I put some gas in to test it the gas spilt all over the floor. Definitely not going to work.
So I repeated the process time and time again one time the brakes weren’t connected properly and another time the battery was dead. My friends told me to buy in Lubumbashi. It’s hard to find the time to go there and then it is hassle because no one knows me there. Then if there is a problem with it I have to take it back. But I thought I was out of options so I planned to do it in January.
Then while walking through town one day I randomly saw a new one that must have just come to the tiny shop named Mattieu 6:33. The first day they wouldn’t negotiate the price. When I went back I haggled it down and tested it. To my amazement it actually worked. Then they even agreed to take it to a mechanic and pay the costs so I could be sure there were no problems. I went to each of the government offices where they asked for money and someone wanted to marry me, but left without adhering to either of their requests. They also all looked at me in total shock when I told them it was my motorcycle that I would be driving.
I keep trying to explain to these people that women are capable. This normally means don’t call women stupid and refers to the need to send your daughters to school as well as your sons but of course works for driving motorcycles too. The motorcycle may be bigger than I am but I am strong. I proved to a couple of my Congolese friends that I can lift the motorcycle if it happened to fall, I can push and maneuver it, and most importantly that I can (although barely) touch the ground while straddling it. They were amazed. And then I rode it which caused them to drop their jaws. Apparently they thought there is something so difficult about kicking gears up and down that women can’t do it. If only they could have seen me doing that on ATV’s when I was 6.
It was an experience buying a motorcycle in Congo. It’s such a blessing to have a means of transportation. There are so many ways I was limited before. Like I said on facebook I have a feeling my shoes are going to start lasting a lot longer.
The funny part about it all is most people in Congo never bother to get their government documents. The country is corrupt so there is a large police force whose sole occupation is blowing a whistle and then asking for money. So whether you have your documents of not they’ll demand you pay them money. I’m trying to do the right thing and follow what I can figure out about the system that supposedly exists but each step of the way I realize why so few others do.
Next I had to find places selling motorcycles. In Likasi there are maybe 100 tiny shops that may have one or 2 motorcycles for sale. It took days to go into each shop and discover who had what. Then I had to investigate the Chinese name brands to discover which ones were at least better than others. A lot of people have motorcycles around here so I would just ask them questions about theirs. They always thought it was hilarious and informed me that women can’t ride motorcycles.
Then it was time to haggle down the price. Some people see my white skin and jack up the price. They don’t think I need a discount because I am obviously a millionaire (and that’s why I live without running water because I have so much money). So some people get offended that you even ask them to change the price. Finally you find a reasonable person and I thought I had found my motorcycle. I went in to test it to be sure it worked then buy it. I had informed the shop keeper of my intentions a week before so everything would be ready. When I put some gas in to test it the gas spilt all over the floor. Definitely not going to work.
So I repeated the process time and time again one time the brakes weren’t connected properly and another time the battery was dead. My friends told me to buy in Lubumbashi. It’s hard to find the time to go there and then it is hassle because no one knows me there. Then if there is a problem with it I have to take it back. But I thought I was out of options so I planned to do it in January.
Then while walking through town one day I randomly saw a new one that must have just come to the tiny shop named Mattieu 6:33. The first day they wouldn’t negotiate the price. When I went back I haggled it down and tested it. To my amazement it actually worked. Then they even agreed to take it to a mechanic and pay the costs so I could be sure there were no problems. I went to each of the government offices where they asked for money and someone wanted to marry me, but left without adhering to either of their requests. They also all looked at me in total shock when I told them it was my motorcycle that I would be driving.
I keep trying to explain to these people that women are capable. This normally means don’t call women stupid and refers to the need to send your daughters to school as well as your sons but of course works for driving motorcycles too. The motorcycle may be bigger than I am but I am strong. I proved to a couple of my Congolese friends that I can lift the motorcycle if it happened to fall, I can push and maneuver it, and most importantly that I can (although barely) touch the ground while straddling it. They were amazed. And then I rode it which caused them to drop their jaws. Apparently they thought there is something so difficult about kicking gears up and down that women can’t do it. If only they could have seen me doing that on ATV’s when I was 6.
It was an experience buying a motorcycle in Congo. It’s such a blessing to have a means of transportation. There are so many ways I was limited before. Like I said on facebook I have a feeling my shoes are going to start lasting a lot longer.
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