Avant

Recently we’ve had 3 Belgians move onto the mine. They were all born in Congo in the 50’s. They don’t really speak English so we usually communicate in Swahili with some French and English shoved in along the way. A few days ago we happened to be around some foreigners who don’t speak Swahili so it was mostly French. It’s amazing how bad my French has gotten. It’s pretty easy for me to understand because I haven’t actually forgotten the words but it’s so difficult and unnatural to form sentences. It’s kind of like when I go back to Zambia and my friends talk to me in Tonga but I have to respond to them in English because I just can’t put sentences together. I’m guessing being around these Belgians will change that at least for French.

So one of them decided to tell us stories of Congo avant (before). Meaning before independence. I’m not so arrogant to believe I know more about how things were back then than he does from merely reading books but it was so obvious to me from what I had read that he was romanticizing things. Things were much better back then for whites and blacks alike no doubt the Congolese destroyed things. But the people weren’t free and they weren’t treated fairly by any stretch of the imagination. They were given free education and free health care in fact the best health care in all of Africa. But they were third class citizens behind the Portuguese and Greeks who weren’t even allowed to live in the center of the city. Talk about racism.

I’ve thought a lot lately about what would happen if all the foreigners left this country. Or if they had never come in the first place. There have been so many injustices and so much suffering here by the hands of foreigners and natives alike. Some times it just feels like too much. Overwhelming and seemingly impossible to change.

Today I saw the street kids I’ve become friends with. One of them showed me his cut up knuckles. He said the Catholic sister who cares for him beat his knuckles because he didn’t bring her any money from his begging. I was about to give him some food when 20 kids bombarded me and asked if I’d buy them a soccer ball. One kid tripped and started crying as his arm started bleeding. I took him to the nearest store and bought a bandage for him. Then bought the kids a ball to which they decided to give me a round of applause. It made me so sad. Here are these great kids whose parents either died or threw them away. Now they have nothing. When the boy fell down the first thought that came to my head was “I don’t have time for this.” It took me maybe 20 minutes to get him bandaged up and then buy their soccer ball. How pathetic that I considered not helping him to save myself 20 minutes. I wonder how many other people walked past these kids today and did nothing to help them. I wish there was a magic button I could push to give them a decent life, but there isn’t so I do the little things that I can and I wonder what Jesus would do if He were here in this awful place.

A Typical Day

So people always ask me what a typical day is like in my life. It’s hard to say because everyday is different and because this is Africa you have to expect the unexpected. Few days go as I think they will.

For example I woke up this morning at 6AM after all the night sounds had disappeared like the howling monkeys and hooting owls not to mention chirping crickets and loud frogs. I took a shower then read my Bible for a while, made some coffee and headed to the all purpose room (dinning room, living room, and office) around 7:30. My coworker beat me there and had the TV on Sky News so I poured some coffee and he drank his tea while we heard about what was going on in the world. I turned on my laptop and started working through some paperwork when one of my workers came in to give me a status report on his project. After I had drunk all my coffee I headed down to the other office building where there is internet. I checked my emails and sent out some responses and reports.

I just reopened our clinic here so I went down to see how the doctor was doing. We chatted about some of the issues and ideas until a man came by who was sick. I sat outside on the dirt and chatted with the patient’s wife and daughter about all the basics. They giggled with glee at the thought of having had an actual conversation with a white person in Swahili no less. When the doctor had finished we talked for a while about reports statistics ideas etc then I walked back to the office to type up all we had discussed.

I went up to the kitchen and decided to eat some lunch with my coworkers. After lunch I organized to go to the village with Lunda. We were to leave at 1:40 sharp because I had a meeting with the Development Committee at 2pm. Then it started pouring down rain so we waited until 2:15 when the rain let up enough for us to get going. The road was horribly muddy so about 2 miles from the camp I told Lunda we would have to push. The only problem was I was wearing flipflops. It was useless trying to push since I slid all over the place nearly dropping my 200lb bike each time. I removed my shoes and did slightly better barefooted. Thankfully Lunda had on sneakers and was able to help a lot!

Finally we reached less muddy ground and I tried to start the motorcycle. Someone stole my battery and I just haven’t been to a place that sells batteries yet so I’ve been using the kick start. As these things go it wouldn’t start . A concerned man who was on the back of a 3 person motorcycle taxi stopped to tell me I should buy an SUV and motorcycles aren’t for white people especially not for women!

There is a mechanic shop (well a plastic tarp held up by sticks with some screw drivers and wrenches) by the side of the road so I stop in. A 15 year old boy under the tutelage of another boy maybe 20 years old grabbed a screwdriver and had the problem fixed in less than 5 minutes. I paid the 15 year old and thanked him then drove off to my meeting only an hour late.

Thankfully it’s African time so they were there waiting for me some of them hadn’t even arrived yet. They saw my muddy feet and hands and knew I was telling the truth about why I was late. We discussed some of the issues in the village and made some resolutions. Everyone was happy and we started off to the school to check on my project there to fix the leaky roof. Apparently it was half fixed so we investigated and made a plan to have it completely fixed. We jumped back on the motorcycle and headed off.

I returned to the mine to explain the new attempt at fixing the school’s roof to my workers. When I got back to the office I realized the generator had been turned off for the regular one hour from 4pm to 5pm while they refill the diesel. No generator means no water so much for cleaning my muddy feet. I was able to steal some water out of the cleaning lady’s bucket to wash my hands. I started typing up a proposal based upon my meeting with the development committee. Then the generator kicked on and I was about to head up to get clean when the doctor came over to talk about more problems. While I was dealing with that it started pouring down rain. I decided to procrastinate on finishing my updated medical reports and started typing this blog entry. It’s now 7pm and the rain has finally finished… oh wait there it goes again! I should go anyway so I can cook supper and definitely clean my disgusting feet! Hopefully I’ll have time to read a few pages from a good book and get to sleep by 10.

Just a typical day for me.

To See and To Love

The first thing I heard this morning was that an earthquake hit Christchurch, New Zealand. One of my coworkers is a Kiwi so he was a bit frazzled trying to get skype to work on our slow internet connection to see if his family was ok. I checked facebook only to hear other friends of mine give a good report that their friends and loved ones had all survived the terrible tragedy. My coworker’s family all survived and only his aunt was injured but they expect a full recovery.

It made me think about how real world tragedies seem to me. I guess for most people the news that tragedy hit New Zealand is sad but doesn’t really touch people personally. For me it’s only 2 degrees of separation. I thought about it and I suppose I have only 2 degrees of separation with people in at least half the countries in the world in some way or another. It’s so much easier to care when it hits closer to home.

I’ve been reading Life Together by Dietrich Bonhoeffer. It is challenging me in so many ways. The concept of Christian community and what God intended for it to be is so challenging and encouraging. How we far too often replace human love for the supernatural Godly love we are called to have. Human love actually only serves our own interests instead of the interest of others. How easy it is to be so self absorbed and so full of pride instead of the people and community God created us to be.

I thought about how we often don’t know our neighbors and don’t even try to love people unless it serves our own selfish interests. I used to work with homeless people when I lived in America. I would mention it sometimes to other Christians and the majority of the time I was hit with remarks like “Well they’re only homeless because they choose to be.” “They’re all just lazy drug addicts.” “They deserve it.” “Don’t give them handouts.” My normal rebuttal was simple “have you ever talked to them?” There was never a time when any of them could tell me yes. We sit in our high lofty towers and judge the world without love or compassion. I’ll never forget Shane Claiborne saying a woman told him not to focus so much on the poor or think he could actually stop poverty because Jesus said the poor you will always have with you. Shane Claiborne responded “How many of the poor do you have with you?”

Even though I have friends all over the world and have dedicated my life to helping the poor, I still find myself being all too self absorbed. It’s so natural, so easy to think about my own needs and slip into human love alone. I feel compassion for the earthquake in Christchurch because my coworker's aunt was injured and I care about my coworker because we mutually help each other do our jobs better. If a hurricane were to hit my relatives in America I would expect him to also show compassion towards me.

So there are kind of 3 groups of people. Friends and family who are easy to love. People who you can mange to love without the Holy Spirit’s help. Then there are strangers. People you don’t know and don’t relate to and don’t expect to ever get anything in return from. Those people are not so much hard to love but hard to see. Like in the movie The Blind Side based on the true story. Michael wasn’t hard to love he has just hard to see. The third group would be enemies. Of course at least for me I don’t think I really have any enemies. But what I mean is people who no matter how much you try to be loving and try to do the right things or even just go about your own business they treat you poorly. Loving those people goes completely against human nature. If we are truly living in the Spirit though loving these people unconditionally without concern for oneself is natural.

So my prayer is that I would live in the Spirit at all times. I want to love all people at all times no matter what. I want to see people. God help me to never be like the 2 who passed by the man lying in the path but to always be like the good Samaritan. I want to always be loving even to my “enemies” or to those who mistreat me. To never be judging and lofty. To always show grace and patience. God help me to love just like Jesus did.

My life is ridiculous, but I like it!

It was raining, not pouring, just the typical Congo rainy season constant flow of rain. I felt blisters forming on my toes because I was wearing a friend’s shoes that were a size too small. All of my shoes were stolen and it’s not like you can buy shoes in the middle of nowhere. I was trampsing through the woods on a muddy path pushing my motorcycle because I had a flat tire. As I curled my toes to try to avoid the rubbing of my newly formed blisters against the harsh leather of my friend’s shoes I asked myself a question that comes to my mind often while I’m in Congo, “What am I doing here?”

As I continued down the path starting to get tired I realized I had made it about a mile and only had one more mile to go before reaching the mining camp. I thought about my current predicament and how it illustrated my life at the moment. I had been on my way to the little farm I had been working on for 6 months when my tire went flat. I left my motorcycle behind and walked the rest of the distance to check things out. To my dismay I found a colossal failure. My guys had abandoned the project when all the craziness happened and my company was kicked out. Had they just worked a couple hours a day in the garden they would be sitting on a few thousand dollars worth of crops (that would have been theirs to keep), but in typical African fashion they didn’t think about the future. TIA

“Ick!” I stepped in a huge mud puddle. I stopped thinking for a moment while I focused on where I was stepping again. A few moments later my mind went back to my situation. The past 3 months have been almost stranger than fiction. I was kicked off the mine by armed soldiers who barricaded the mine and eventually stole it from my company. As a result I lost my job. Went back to America for a wonderful whirlwind month of traveling seeing friends and family. Came back to Africa and thought I’d have to say good bye to Congo forever. Stayed in Lubumbashi and there was an attempted coup. It failed, no big deal, but since this is an election year more craziness is sure to follow. Found out most of my stuff was stolen from the mine by my favorite employee who was by far the strongest Christian! And now I find out my projects failed! Not to mention the fact that I am currently walking through the woods in the rain pushing a motorcycle in shoes that don’t fit.

As I kicked down my kickstand and went inside the office for a drink of water I saw the new site director of the new mining company that had bought the concession from the people who stole it from my old company. I met the CEO and he impressed me with his desire to start social programs so I accepted his job offer. I officially start in March although unofficially I started a couple of weeks ago. They offered me a decent salary and more money for projects than I had been allowed before “Things are about to change.” I told myself with a smile. I just have a feeling that this is going to be a great year. My life is ridiculous, but I like it!

Funny Congo Stories

So I’ve been considering putting the blog to rest. Then I noticed a tab called “stats” and was shocked to realize people actually read the stuff I’m writing. People from all over the world. In that case I’m never short on good stories. So here goes.

I’m American and look fully Caucasian. I have curly hair, blue round eyes, and freckles everywhere. But for whatever reason Congolese people think I’m Chinese. Usually it’s children but even adults some times. There is a large Chinese population here because as we all know China is grabbing up mineral concessions all over the world right now. Because they think I’m Chinese all day long I hear “Chinoise (Chinese in French) heehaw”! Of course it is actually Ni Hao but I guess that’s what the Congolese think they are saying. When I first got here I thought they were making donkey noises. So don’t be surprised if you come to Congo and get taken for a Chinese with a donkey greeting!

Congolese are always trying to rob people with stupid ideas. One guy opens a hotel in Kolwezi. He decides to use solar power because it’s more reliable than Congolese power. As soon as he opens his hotel representatives from SNEL (the Congolese power company) notice lights on and come in to demand that he pay them money for his illegal electricity. He explains the concept of solar power and shows them the panels and the batteries. They come back a few days later and insist that he is stealing power from them and must pay! He shows them again and convinces them that he at least is actually using solar power. The next week government representatives show up and insist that he must pay a sun tax because he is using Congo’s sun to get his power! He of course didn’t pay but that’s how ridiculous people are!

A Congolese worker, Kabongo, goes to a restaurant for a beer with his Expat boss. They enjoy a few drinks and then the boss says “that’s it for the night see you tomorrow.” Kabongo begs his boss for more drinks. His boss says truthfully that he doesn’t have any more money with him. Kabongo says his boss has some money in his car. The boss denies it and finally gives Kabongo his keys and says if you can find any money you can have it. Kabongo in his drunken stupor decided to drive his boss’ car even though he’d never driven a car ever in his life. He figures out how to get it into reverse just as his boss is exiting the restaurant. He pushes down on the accelerator and rams into the car behind them. His boss is yelling “stop stop stop!” but he only pushes harder on the accelerator because he is so freaked out. He finally makes the car stop and jumps out. His boss says “what were you thinking!” Kabongo replies “It wasn’t me!” LOL! He was caught red handed his boss watched him do it and he still denied it!

Shituru Orphans

Wow it has been so long since I last updated my blog. Things have been going well here in Kisankala. We’ve started cleaning up the village and working with the local school. We have a garden and I’ve got my work cut out for me! So many problems but I am finding solutions. I’m doing my best to spread the message of hope to the people in the village. I’ve already seen a change. People are seeing a future for this place.

My one regret or hesitation or bad feeling in the pit of my stomach about taking this job was leaving behind the nearly 100 orphans I worked with for so long in Shituru. I had arranged to start a day center for the kids and provide education, food, and whatever else the kids were in need of. These kids had all captured my heart. I knew that if I quite my old job and took this new job the program wouldn’t be started and the kids wouldn’t be getting the help they needed. I told myself I would be helping more kids by taking this new job but the feeling never went away.

Then I started talking with my friends from the church in Shituru and they told me an idea they had. What if we negotiated with a school that members of our church worked at to pay a flat rate to the school instead of per child. We decided it couldn’t hurt to try so we started meeting with the principle and asking for a discount. As we were in the negotiation process someone brought up the fact that 2 kilometers is far for the young kids to walk by themselves. We went back to the drawing board trying to figure out what we could do. We finally decided that the best solution would be to hire a member of our church with experience as a teacher to walk the kids to and from school each day and she could help the kids with their homework and check up on them. We negotiated the whole thing down to $400 per month for 160 orphans. We were already supporting orphans in Toyota who attended that school and I had been given a list of 50 more orphans who wanted a chance at an education in the Toyota area. The normal price is $5 per child per month which would have been a total of $800 per month.

Then it was a matter of finding the $400 per month and God provided all the money needed. There is even enough to buy each of the children a new school uniform! The people I trained to do children’s ministry in Shituru will now be doing weekly chapel services at the school the orphans will be attending! The kids will be able to go to school, continue learning about God, and we are even helping them with medical expenses. Not only that but my friend Irene who has been looking for a teaching job for years will now be employed at last! God couldn’t have worked this out better.

I was so encouraged when I met with the kids after not seeing them for 2 months. I gave them a quiz to see what they remembered. I asked who knows Ephesians 6:1? The kids were jumping up and down yelling “pick me pick me!” One answer that really touched me was when I asked who knows the story of Elijah and the Ravens? Lots of kids raised their hands but I called on Davie a boy maybe 5 years old who tends to be hyper and more interested in fighting other kids than paying attention. He said “Elijah was hungry but there was no food so he prayed and God sent ravens to bring him bread.” I know most of those kids have experienced times when there “was no food” and it makes me so happy to know that they see now that God loves them and he cares that they don’t have food and he will provide for them. I thank God for those kids and the work He is doing in their hearts. I also thank all of you for your contributions and prayers that are changing the lives of 160 Congolese orphans!

Transition

My new home

For those of you who don’t know I am in the middle of changing jobs. I’ve been working with Noah Ministries in Likasi and the Wesleyan Church but I will begin working for the Ameropa Foundation this month running social programs in Kisankala. I am excited about the change. I’ll be living in a village which I love and surrounded by other expats. It’s a great opportunity and I’ll be able to continue to live out God’s call on my life for Congo.

There is a lot that goes into the change. I’m busy hopping between Zambia and Congo getting visas changed and trying to sell the things I don’t need and transport the things I do the 130km from Likasi to Kisankala.

I’m making budgets and plans and my head is spinning with ideas and the best way to accomplish goals. I’m racing from place to place and person to person figuring out costs and availability of goods.

It’s a stressful time but also so exciting with seemingly endless possibilities and the feeling of being on the cusp of something wonderful- dreams becoming a reality.

It’s a challenging time of leaving so many friendships and children and ministries behind and in the hands of others.

It’s always hard to start over but also nice to have a clean slate.

I’m in the all too familiar place of transition once again. Please keep me in your prayers and I’ll try to keep you informed on how everything goes.