Tupa

I had the privilege of distributing Christmas Boxes to about 300 orphans through the Samaritan’s Purse program Operation Christmas Child. It was priceless to watch the faces of the orphans light up as they opened them. First we took the boxes to the orphans Noah Ministries has been working with. I explained to the kids how to use etch-a-sketches and that you can’t eat play doh. They had no idea what to do with their bubble tape gum or the deodorant that had been given to them. There were a few little kids who were terrified by stuffed animals but all in all the kids were thrilled to have such cool stuff from the united States. We happened to distribute them on the coldest day we had had in Likasi so far in the cold season. There were hats and gloves and socks for the kids to stay warm. It was such an honor to see those kids receive a tangible blessing from God. It’s like on that day the love of Christ was no longer an abstract concept but a tangible toy they can hold on to for years to come always knowing that although in society they are the lowest in God’s kingdom they are valuable.

Next we went to distribute them to the street children. I happened to be close to a little boy I’ve gotten to know on the streets named Tupa. He’s a smart kid and always seems to win over the hearts of people and find food. Tupa means throw in Swahili. Tupa is also the word used for throwing away trash. He was abandoned as a little kid. Nobody wanted him. Now he is given only what others throw away or throw at him. Rocks are thrown at him to make him go away. I was talking with an Australian business man about Tupa one day. He said he thought the best thing he could do for Tupa was to give him a job at his factory. His workers are fed a meal everyday and he offers fair wages. But the Australian man said he won't because he is against child labor (Tupa is somewhere around 12 none of the street kids know how old they are. What’s worse in this situation? So Tupa remains on the streets begging for everything and getting the world’s throw aways.

Tupa opened his box quickly but then slammed it shut. He looked up in sheer amazement. I could tell he was thinking to himself “how did I get so lucky?” Warm gloves and socks, candy, toys he had things that would make other kids jealous of him instead of the usual other way around. Then I saw Gaylord (as hilarious as that name was on Meet the Parents it is a really common name around here) open his box and totally ignore the toys and candy to grab the tooth paste! He held it up high and exclaimed “I’ve been searching for some of this!” It was a beautiful day.

Booklets were also given to each kid called the Greatest Gift of All. They were in French with cartoon black families depicted in brightly colored pages all about how Jesus is the great gift of all. These booklets have spread all over the communities and even the adults have described how much they appreciate and have gleamed from them.

I’m so thankful to everyone who worked with Operation Christmas Child and made it possible for all of these orphans to experience the Love of God. There are so many kids like Tupa in the world. I encourage all of you to pray for them and do what you can to help the Tupa’s around you wherever in the world you may find yourselves.

Kisankala

I went out to a mining camp for a week with some friends. It was a great experience sleeping in luxury tents complete with carpet and electricity with ablution blocks situated behind each one. They had a play station 3 and a 50” flat screen tv with satellite. We were in the middle of no where but I had wireless internet and microwaves. Eric, a Zambia guy who works there, has a pet monkey named Coco. He’s pretty cheeky and loves to break into the kitchen and wreak havoc so he stays tied up by a tree most of the time. One night Eric asked us to baby sit Coco. We accepted and tied him to a tree between our tents not thinking it would be a big deal. At around midnight Coco started screeching like only monkeys can. He just wouldn’t stop. All night long he made those high pitched noises and we didn’t get any sleep. When we went to move him in the morning there was poop everywhere. It was a really bad idea. Coco jumped on my back and started picking through my hair and wouldn’t get off. Never again will I baby sit a monkey.

The mine is just a few kilometers from a village. I was surprised with how much stuff they have in the village and how temporary it is. Most of the residents just showed up in hope for a mining job and live in make shift tents created from plastic tarps and sticks. I’ve never seen anything like that in my life. I was amazed that even those who had lived in the village for years had never bothered to make bricks or thatch a roof using grass. Some of the artisanal workers are making more than $100 a month (consider that most people make $1-$2 per day) but you would never know it by looking at their homes. I visited some of the churches and was surprised to see so many. A lot of people don’t go to the churches though because there aren’t any trained pastors so the sermons are in general pretty bland.

I asked around about the chief and availability of land for people interested in agriculture and everyone said the chief would give out land but no one seemed to be growing anything. That was probably the most shocking thing about the village. In Zambia that is the only way villages survive. Here people see farming as beneath them. It’s like being a janitor or garbage truck picker upper. I really don’t understand why. They have impressive rain fall here. I’ve heard the soil has been depleted of resources and requires extra fertilizer but the price of food is high. I heard this country imports 90% of its food and my general observation is inline with that. Agriculture is the foundation of an economy. I wish Congo would realize they can’t focus solely on their mineral wealth.

Kids

I come across the last corner before Diel’s house. Diel is a 4 year old boy who goes to our church in Shituru. When he first met me like most of the kids here he screamed bloody murder. These days though that has changed drastically. As I rounded the corner Diel, who was waiting for me, began to cry out Da Sheri Da Sheri and ran as fast as his tiny legs could carry him towards me. After his impressive 10 yard dash I scoop him up and he gives me a crazy bear hug. He is covered in dirt and now I am too. I ask him about his mom and dad and brothers and sisters and he says they are all fine. Then looks me in the eyes and says “can we go to church now?” “Yes Diel, we’ll go right now.” I reply with a big smile on my face.

While we are waiting for church to start Victoire grabs my hand and asks if we can play chicken chicken turkey. He means duck duck goose but there are no geese here so I changed it to chicken chicken turkey. We get organized into groups according to age and make circles. The kids have so much fun playing. Then out of no where Divine jumps up and declares “I don’t wanna be a chicken or a turkey. I wanna be a dog!” and hops down on all fours in imitation of one.

Church is over and I’m now on a bus to go about 2 miles closer to my house. We are crowded in at about twice the maximum capacity and a lady boards with 3 kids. She is trying to look in her purse to get the 25 cents the ride is costing us. After the first bump when multiplied by the van not having decent shocks throws us in all sorts of directions she hands her kids off to the women sitting in our section. She still can’t search her purse because she has a baby on her lap. The lady was out of women to hand her baby off to so she looked at me and asked if I’d hold him. I said sure and took the baby luckily he wasn’t old enough to figure out I’m white so I didn’t have to worry about him screaming. I was however facing 3 other kids on laps who were staring at me in horror. I just knew they were thinking “if she makes one sudden movement towards me I’ll scream my head off.” I was cautious to spare the other 20 people in the van from the screaming match.

Africa is not homogeneous

I spent 2 glorious weeks in Zambia. It’s always hard to readjust to life in Congo. I find myself not knowing whether to laugh or scream. Everything is so backwards and wrong here in Congo and I think if Zambia your neighbor with some of the same tribes and similar geography etc can be successful what is the problem? Of course it is easy to identify what the problems are it is just difficult to find a remedy people are willing to accept.

The electricity has been off for 3 days straight. I haven’t experienced this in over a year and I’m not prepared. I thank God for friends. I emptied my freezer into theirs and show up everyday to charge my computer and phone. It makes the transition that much harder.

The language barrier is also hard to get used to. I hate not being able to express what I want to or knowing that I am articulating it like a 5 year old and so much of my meaning isn’t getting across (this is most frustrating when I am preaching).

It’s also hard to adjust to the culture. People don’t listen and they don’t keep a respectful distance. There are just more white people in Zambia and way more white people who interact with the people whether missionaries or aid workers. You are less of a freak of nature and more of a human being.

Crazy Experiences

You know those things that happen to you and you just think this is the kind of things that happens in movies but not in real life? It’s funny how hilarious they are in a movie and unfortunate in real life. I’ve had a few of those recently.

I needed to mail something and well this is Congo so I couldn’t unless I went to Zambia. I decided I would go just across the border to Chingola stay one night and come back the next day. I left Likasi early in the morning on a bus. I picked a full bus which was great because I didn’t have to wait an hour for it to fill up with people but it was horrible because I got a bad seat. They use plastic containers used to hold beer bottles as a seat and it is in no way comfortable. About half way there the bus broke down well sort of. It ran hot. Of course the driver didn’t bother to bring any water so it took some people 30 minutes to go find water fill a container and return. My makeshift seat had to be removed to get to the radiator. I was forced to stand in front of the other passengers as the driver filled the radiator with water. He then started the car and the steaming dirty radiator water exploded all over me. I was soaked and burnt and dirty and not even a quarter of the way to my destination. I was just standing there thinking did that seriously just happen? It wins as my worst public transport story ever. Luckily though as I was standing outside trying to get the hot African sun to dry me off an expat I had randomly met through a friend that week was driving past, saw me, and asked if I wanted a ride to Lubumbashi. I thanked God and hopped in to the comfortable air conditioned car for a luxurious rest of my trip to Lubumbashi. Thankfully the rest of my public transportation experience went smoothly.

I have made friends with some Chinese people who live near my house. Their English is pretty bad so we speak in a funny mixture of French, Swahili, English, and hand motions. They have some dogs that hate everyone except Chinese people. The funniest part is a lot of Congolese people can’t tell if I am white or Chinese. Somehow the curly hair, round blue eyes, and freckles don’t seem to give it away. But those dogs have no problem differentiating me as white. They are chained to the porch and bark at me until I enter the house then forget about me. One day the big dog named Niko broke his chain and came up to me barking and then bit me on my leg. My Chinese friend grabbed the chain and held the dog off so I could get out of the yard. Then she followed me and said went off in broken English and language mixture about how sorry she was. I told her it was no big deal just a bruise the dog never broke the skin. She made me sit down so she could pour peroxide on my bruise. I tried to tell her peroxide wouldn’t do anything for a bruise but she wouldn’t stop. Then she tried to convince me to go to the hospital. I told her it was fine but she was freaking out. She switched back and forth between French, English, and Swahili trying to convince me it was dangerous I needed to go to the hospital. Congolese hospitals are horrible anyway but seriously it was just a bruise so there was no need to do anything about it. Much to her relief a few days later the bruise was gone and I’m still alive and she realized it really hadn’t been a big deal. It was weird and surreal.

I guess it’s just life in Africa. Anything can happen here.

Some More Tesimonies

Things have been going truly well around here. It seems like we went a long time without having regular prayer meetings. There is a problem right now with rain. If it is raining people don’t come and church gets canceled. Also our pastor was super busy and things just kept conflicting. We finally started again last week and there was only me the Pastor and one other lady, Phani. So pastor Kabamba started asking us why we thought people weren’t coming. I said probably the most important thing that we can do is keep coming pray for laborers and share the testimonies of how much God is answering our prayers. I had a sermon prepared but changed it at the last minute (usually a really bad idea when you’re preaching in a foreign language you don’t know very well). The Holy Spirit was awesome and it went great.

So the next prayer meeting people randomly came out of the woodwork. We didn’t remind them or invite them but they just came. The pastor started laughing and Phani asked him why he said “Where did they come from?” God is so able to answer prayers! So we are really trying to rally the troops right now to be in prayer. We know God has a lot in store for us in 2010.

We were also praying for a woman named Alice. She has had a rough couple of years. A bunch of their money was stolen and her husband lost his job and everyone was sick. It just seemed like hard time after hard time for their family. Her husband hadn’t gone to church in 4 years. He was just discouraged about the whole thing. I remember sitting in their house about a year ago and telling the story of Joseph. I encouraged them to keep trusting in God and not allow themselves to fall into the temptations of stealing and cheating to get ahead as so many do here. I told them God hadn’t forgotten them and he promises to work things together for good. Now less than a year later her husband is employed again and making more money than before. The whole family is doing well. We went to see their new much larger house last week. Alice’s husband, Banza, was there and told us he believed all the good things that had come into their lives were blessings from God. He said he was flabbergasted by it all. He isn’t well educated and didn’t think he would ever achieve the salary he now has. He knows its God’s love and favor on their lives and said he was determined to start going to church again. After 4 years of not entering a church he showed up on Sunday with the biggest smile. He stood up with the visitors and said he had been absent for 4 years but he was turning his life around and fully committing himself to the church so we should expect to see him every Sunday. My heart rejoiced, especially for his wife. What a victory for her and an example of the fact that God does answer prayers.

Things are moving here. God just shows up and reveals Himself to those who are seeking Him. I would appreciate your prayers. Many people are sick this time of year. Also the harvest is about to come in but in the mean time people are running out of food and the price of food in at an all time high because of supply and demand. People are facing many trials but I’m confident as we pray God will supply all of our needs according to His riches and glory.

Justice

It has been an interesting couple of weeks here. I’ve actually been sick which doesn’t happen to me very often. I think I caught a parasite from drinking some bad water and it has manifested in all kinds of stomach issues. It’s been pretty inconvenient but I’ve found ways to continue ministering. Of course God is always faithful He gives me the ability to do all the things I’m called to do.

My recent illness is hardly why I am writing today. Something far more tragic occurred to a member of my church. A police officer who was 36 years old and a husband and father of 2 was brutally beaten to death in the Shituru section of Likasi. Gecca Mines, the government owned mining company here in Katanga province mining mostly copper, uses police or military for their security at the mines and the factories. Kalombo had been working security for a while at the Shituru factory where the copper is processed. One night a group of men came to steal from the factory and when Kalombo refused to allow them to steal they beat him until he died and left him there to be found the next morning.

It is a demonstration of how morally bankrupt people are here in Congo. Of course not all people are so heartless but there just seem to be far too many people who lack a moral conscience. Greed seems to be the driving motivator. Perhaps the hardest part for me is Kalombo is one of the few Congolese people who would actually stand for righteousness and justice. Most individuals in his position would have gladly been in on the thievery. He keeps his mouth shut and helps you break into the factor in exchange for a few hundred dollars. The difficulty is he won’t be given any respect for what he did and the lesson most people will learn from his death is doing the right thing kills so you might as well be corrupt and line your pockets.

The justice system in Congo is swift. They caught people they believe murdered Kalombo and those men will be executed. The government can’t afford to run prison facilities. They exist but hundreds and thousands die regularly because of lack of food and unsanitary living conditions. A prison sentence is usually a death sentence just in a much more painful manner. Another issue is the justice system is obviously corrupt like all of Congo. What if these aren’t even the right people? There is no drawn out trial with a jury of your peers or the possibility of establishing reasonable doubt as a means to protect the innocent. I’m not even sure if there is a trial at all. Where is the example or even existence of justice here?

Church on Wedneasday and Thursday was canceled. People here are very communal so instead of meeting at the church all members were encouraged to visit the homes of family members of Kalombo to encourage them or distract them or just be there as a form of comfort. The Bible instructs us to rejoice with those who are rejoicing and mourn with those who are mourning. Some times going over to Kalombo’s sister’s house and distracting the whole family with a game of dodgeball where we laugh together and afterward pray together for God’s strength and peace looks way more like the church. There are certain things Congolese people do really well and community is one of them.