Gathered Together...

When the day began I was 45 minutes from the closest paved road.  However that afternoon we got in an SUV and drove 1 ½ hours beyond that.  At times we drove on roads only barely worthy of being called that.  We drove and drove through small towns past pastures and trees.  We passed people and bridges and livestock.  Finally at the top of a hill I saw a few houses.  With a sharp left we headed back into a small village of maybe 10 houses.  With another sharp left we pulled onto some green grass.  I turned the car around and backed in between two hills.

We were early and people here always run late so we sat in the car and talked as we waited.  Children began to gather.  My guess is they see few cars and even fewer white people in them.  For several minutes we sat and chatted about what was in store.  I watched the children out of the corner of my eye.  

My door was open so the cool air could breeze through.  The children went from one to several.  They began to inch closer and closer to the open door.  At one point one little girl even reached her arm in to touch the two packs of AA batteries that sat in the pocket.  When she did I jerked towards her quickly.  They all took a step back and I smiled at them.  They smiled back.  

I went back to the conversation and noticed the children’s creeping in again.  This time I jumped from the car making noises and waving my arms in the air.  They all scattered.  They turned back to see my laughing and joined in the laughter.  Except for one little girl.  I turned to see she was crying.  I had scared her, but then I made her famous.  I went and grabbed her and picked her up.  I hugged her as I whispered in her ear.  “I’m sorry.  Be Strong.  I’m sorry.”  I held her close careful about the placement of my hands as I was fairly certain her ragged dress was all she was wearing.  

When I put her down she scurried off to join the others who watched from a gate a few feet away.  She looked back at me with tears in her eyes and I waved; she cried.  She looked again and I waved again.  After a few times she smiled and the tears went away.  We were friends again.  As we continued to wait I kept playing.  I would jump out once in a while and they would all run.  

Several minutes late we left the house and moved towards the house.  I topped a hill to see the most beautiful round house just down the hill from me.  The walls were made of wooden sticks that look similar to bamboo.  The roof was grass.  A pole stuck out of the middle that made the center support.  The closed door was a half door like those in big church nurseries.  I walked around back to look for a hidden spot.  When you gotta go you gotta go.

I moved back towards the house and noticed gigantic clay coffee pots hanging on the back of the house.  I stepped over a whole in the ground.  Inside was trash.  It must have been the burn pile.  I circled back to the front of the house and entered the doorway.  The room was dark and full of smoke.  A fire burned near the back corner.  To my right was a section where hay was on the ground.  Two calves gnawed on lunch.  

I walked towards a pile of mats which serves as a bed most nights.  The fifteen or twenty of us where gathered around a large round rock.  The rock was circular like a wheel with a hole in the middle like a donut.  It is used to cook food.  Fire burns in the whole dug below the house.  The heat rises through the whole in the middle and warms pots suspended over it.  We sat on mats and stools and benches.  Three of us where white.  

Although we were already behind schedule we waited as several had yet to show up.  Two women prepared coffee over the fire.  One was old and one much younger.  Neither wore shoes.  Both had their heads covered.  As we discussed starting we had to debate whether we could start before drinking the coffee.  The leader decided we would begin and take coffee throughout.  

We began by discussing the week.  How many times have you told the story?  Who did you tell?  How was it received?  Several shared their story of who had heard and how it had gone.  Others listened and nodded.  The coffee was served.

As a guest I was served early.  This region is known for their coffee, or rather for the strange way they take it.  I took a sip and noticed it had no bitterness.  It was a bit greasy though.  The butter and salt were strong.  I can’t believe they like it this way.  After the first sip I though, “I can do this.”  The more I drank the worse it got.  But I drank.  I drank slowly but I drank.  I also had a nibble of the snack that was offered.  It appeared to be barley soaked in water or some liquid which made it chewy.  Not my favorite.  

The story began.  A national sitting next to me shared the story of Cain and his brother Abel.  After finishing, he did it again.  After that others began to repeat the story.  After several hearings we finished.  Each had had their chance to practice.  Now the work begins.  This week they will journey out among their peers and neighbors to share the story.  They are walking them through stories of truth.  They are working towards the ultimate story of death and sacrifice.  

When we finished the old woman hugged my neck.  We climbed back to the top of the hill.  I waved goodbye to my young friends.  We got in the truck and began the journey home.  

This is the goal.  The goal is to put the stories of truth in the hands of believers.  We want to inspire them to spread the good news.  We want to empower them to be the bearers of truth for those around them.  We want to see a movement of houses and storytellers meeting all over the country and the world.  We want to see the promise fulfilled – “…every tribe and language and people and nation…encircling the throne…”

Deer in Headlights...

I did a lot of driving this week.  I meant to put in the story about my day trip something about the people here and the roadway.  I forgot while I was writing it but was quickly reminded as soon as I was on the road again.

This information holds true everywhere I have been.  It is true in the city it is especially true in the countryside where roads are newer.  

Nationals here seem to be consistently surprised by cars on the road.  If you get close to a man walking in the middle of the street and honk he will jump and look as if he has no idea what is behind him.  He would clearly be much less shocked in a steer bumped him in the butt.  A friend will often say when driving, “Excuse me for driving on your sidewalk.”

On my day trip I nearly killed two people.  The first was a man with his heard of cows.  Somehow he never realized I was coming up behind him as he filled my lane with cows and walked partially on the on coming lane.  I moved towards the left so that I could go around him and suddenly he started running to the left.  It is possible he suddenly realized I was coming.  The problem is he ran directly in front of me.  I laid on the horn and steered farther left.  I nearly hit him.  I took the walking stick in his hand.  I clipped it with the front end of my van.  My passenger and I were both dumbfounded.  We got so close; it was awful.

A day later on the trip back there was a woman in my lane.  I honked the horn.  She saw me.  She froze.  I could go anywhere.  She moved a step left and then two right.  She moved back a step left and stopped.  I slammed on the brakes; by the time I stopped we were looking eye to eye.  She stood outside my window and I sat behind the wheel.  She walked away and it was all over.  

In the states you learn that two things can be done when an animal is in front of your car.  You can’t predict what the animal will do.  So you have to either slow down or hit it.  People here work the same way, problem is you never want to hit them.  You can’t predict their response.  For some reason they are completely baffled by what to do when a car is coming towards them.  I have literally watched a national be ¾ of the way across a road when they see a car coming.  Instead of taking the two steps to finish their crossing and get out from in front of the car they turn back and risked getting smacked by the car coming the other way.  It is both extremely frustrating and sometimes incredibly funny.

Driving, and Lots of It

The purpose of my recent trip was to visit a region where storying is going on. Storying is a method of teaching scripture that focuses on the stories rather than going through verse by verse. It is ideal in oral cultures especially where large numbers of people are illiterate.

Two girls live out in a region where they have seen great success. I came with others to see what it is looking like. The crazy thing is we took the long way to get here.

We decided to leave a day early and drive to another area to go to a game park. Now the animals here don’t look quite like most of Africa. We don’t have many of the typical animals you expect to find. This park is the only place I have ever even seen zebras.

We made a plan to go originally thinking it was on the way where we were going. Come to find out, it was way out of the way. We drove eight hours the first day to get down to the park. The next day we drove to the park which was just outside the city we stayed in.

Our plan was to leave at 7 and be back by lunch. It was 3 before we returned. I would love to say the reason is we were having so much fun we stayed longer and longer to hang out. The truth is we got lost…twice. We had been told there was only one road that we had to follow. It made a loop. Come to find out there are more roads. We took two of them. We had been told we would take a right at a fork to begin the loop. So we took a right. We ended up so deep in the woods we had to turn back.

After going left we found another fork. Again we went right. We drove for some time and then found a sign to see a hot spring. We followed the road and found a very unimpressive spring of hot water. I have seen two hot springs in my life. One was a beautiful spot in the middle of the desert with a spring big enough for several people to swim in. This one was big enough to wash one person’s hands in.

After seeing it we asked a guide the way out. He told us to keep going forward and stay right. We did…I think. Had we not kept going we might have never seen zebras. We finally had been driving so long we stopped to ask again. They told us to keep going, however it was 90 kilometers away (5 kilometers is a bit over 3 miles). At this point they told us it would take longer to turn back.

It got funnier and funnier as time went on. Many of the roads were barely roads. We would stop at forks to ask the way each time getting a new guess on the time it would take us. We heard everything from 1 hour to 12 hours. Sometimes we hit bumps so hard everyone in the car soared in the air. It was fun and frustrating at times. Finally we made it back.

Then we went out in a lake to see hippos and crocodiles.

The next day we drove 8 or 10 hours to our original destination. It was hard roads and a long day. But we made it safely. Now we will see how the stories go.

Day Trip...

When I got malaria I had been no where that I should be able to get it.  However I sure caught it.  After yesterday I have now been back to the two places.  One is here in the city.  The other is just under two hours out, where some friends live in a nice little town of 40,000 or so.

Friday morning I drove a visitor out there.  We had to leave early because an adventure was in store.  My friends out there have recently given a bunch of goats away.  They gave three each to 30 some odd women.  Each got two females and one male.  The goal is that these women (All of which have children, little food, and no man in the house.) will be able to have 2 liters of milk a day for their family.  

Friday we went to give 13 of them vaccinations.  Now in the states a vet or the owner would probably do this.  Friday a city boy from Houston did it with the help of four onlookers (I only count as helping if watching and sticking pills in the tool used to give it counts.).  The town where we met these women is about an hour off the paved road.  The women live outside the town.  

It was wonderful to see the work happening out there and the joy of the women.  We had a great lunch in one of the two hotel/restaurants there.  We went to a market.  This is a gigantic gathering of people in an open space.  They all have a mat on the ground holding their items for sale.  

It was a good short trip.  There should be a new slideshow on the right.  Tomorrow I go again.  This time I head out to places I’ve never been.  Be gone nearly a week.  I’ll try and write while I’m out there, but likely won’t post them until I return.  

A Saturday Morning like Those of my Childhood...

I have been given four different words for blister here.  I’m not sure if that is because they don’t know what to call it or they don’t tell people when they get them.  Maybe they don’t get them.  Many run around barefooted; many were plastic shoes with no socks.  There is absolutely no way they are comfortable.  Perhaps their feet have grown so tough blisters are a thing of the past.  

I haven’t been asking out of my typical randomness that can be talking about a movie one minute to a blister the next to a Colt game the next to theology the next.  I don’t even know how I run all these things together.  Perhaps it is because I don’t know enough about any of them to complete a conversation.  

Sorry back to the point.  I have three big blisters on my feet.  Actually one is nearly gone and the other was more of a wrinkle in the skin.  However the third is still going strong.  I got to play football (soccer) last Saturday.  It had been a long time.  It was my first time to play since I’ve been here and I hadn’t played for a while in the States because of ankle issues.  

A friend (white guy) and I went to play for a couple hours with a couple nationals.  We split into three teams of five.  That was good for me, it meant I would get to rest once in a while.  It didn’t work that way.  Although I didn’t have the best player on my team, we somehow ended up the best team.  We didn’t lose a game until it was after time for me to go.  We played straight for an hour and a half or two hours.  I was whooped by the end.  

The blisters on my feet hurt.  My legs were sore (gotta remember to stretch in the future).  And I was flat exhausted.  But I had so much fun.

Every couple weeks I’ll play basketball with some crackers.  We get together at a high school gym for internationals and play for a couple hours.  I play basketball just for the chance to play some and for the community opportunities.  But when I walked on the soccer field I felt something in my bones.  It just felt good to slip on a pair of spikes and step onto the dirt (no grass on the field).  Soon after beginning I was reminded I’m a lot older and fatter than I was when I played ball, but I love that game.  I love the exercise for my body and my mind as I piece together runs and passes like pieces of a puzzle.

What a game?  I had memories of the old days on the field; I created new memories as I tripped a few times, stole the ball a few times, and almost scored a time or two.  It all ended with a challenge to return as I let the ball slip through my legs playing keeper to let an opponent touch in the final goal.  Maybe next time we’ll win them all.  Hopefully at least I won’t blow the final goal.  

The Journey Home...

(When I began to write this entry in my head, the first word was “yesterday.”  Nonetheless…) Almost two weeks ago I drove the eight hours back to the city from the small town I spent a few days in with the fellas.  The town they live in is beautiful as I have shared with you.  But the drive back is amazing.  It began with a descent of nearly a mile.  We stopped for breakfast at this small café.  Two of us had driven eight hours out, but only two of us where headed back to the city.  For breakfast we each had a croissant and a cup of wetet be buna (coffee with milk).  The café sits on a second story of a building.  Were it not for the satellite dish in my eye line we would have been able to see the valley below that we were about to weave through.

The driving surface constantly changes.  Parts are paved but poorly, others are paved as well as any new road in the States.  And yet others are merely dirt or rock.  Mountains continuously decorate the horizon.  Just beyond the valley we drove through we were towering mountains of brown and green stretching to the thin clouds above.  The sun shone brightly.  The day couldn’t have been more beautiful.  

The roadways in this country are decorated by smiling faces, herds of cows, whatever a group of donkeys is called, and on these roads were the occasional camel or several.  The day was cool as the winds blew in the windows of the SUV we drove in.  Most of the time I kept the gas pedal on the floor.  But on occasion I would slow for a donkey unwilling to move or a crossing of goats.  Every now and then we would pass through a small town or village.  It would stretch somewhere between 100 yards and a couple miles down the roadway.  Buildings are usually built only a few feet from the road and people crowd the area between the buildings and part of my side of the road.  

The typical countryside taxis are a common site.  They are a small two wheeled cart with a seat able to hold two or three people.  A horse pulls the cart as it wobbles behind with at least one crooked wheel.  

My friend David dosed in and out next to me as my greatest hits playlist spun in the iPod sitting in between us.  I heard the sounds of Billy, and Phil, and Michael, and Sheryl, and Rod, and Hootie, and others as we passed the faces and the houses and the livestock and the mountains.  I may be a bit impartial but I truly believe I live in the most beautiful country on the face of the earth.

On the Road Again...

As I write this my house is empty.  I live in a nice four bedroom house.  Some of the time I live there alone.  Other times I live with other guys.  Some roommates move in and out as they are only here for a few days or weeks or months.  However my primary roommates have now been here several months with several to go.  The difference between the two of them and me is that while my work is in Addis theirs isn’t.  

A couple months ago they moved to a small town 400 kilometers from where I live.  They were there about a month and a half to learn language better.  When they left to go I think all parties involved were relieved.  

Most of you know I have lived by myself for a long time.  Now here I have had two roommates some of the time.  It is a stretch at times, for all of us.  We are still learning what it looks like to be community.  What does it look like for three guys who are very different to learn to live together?  Not sure yet, but trying hard to learn.  

As I said by the time they left we were at each others throats.  Then they returned.  I had been told they would be with me about a week.  I was so relieved at the short time we would be together.  However, things looked different this time.  One of the guys returned pretty sick…amoeba in his gut.  The three of us not only got along this time, we enjoyed our time together.  

Right now I’m sitting in the town they have moved back to.  They will be here about a month and I brought them out.  I decided this would be a good time to come and spend some time with them here.  It isn’t near as big as the city I live in but it is very nice.  

We are over 10,000 feet high.  The majority of the town life exists down one paved strip of road.  Many of the other roads are only dirt.  They live in a house with a family.  We had dinner with the family tonight.  Currently the house is a mess though.  They are adding a ceiling and painting all the walls.  The work is still in progress.  So at the moment the guys are staying at the same hotel I am.  The time here has been great.  The time together has been such a blessing.  

My favorite part of the last two days is to see their excitement for this place and this people.  They have a sense of pride and ownership of this place and these people.  It is wonderful.  They feel about this small town the way I do about my large city.  They were so ready to get back out here.  We walk the streets and they take turns pointing to landmarks and telling me what it is.  They share stories of people and places they have come in contact with.  It is exciting to watch the joy the fills their faces when they share.  

This is beautiful country and a neat town.  But my call isn’t to this place theirs is.  How amazing!  Each of us is blessed with a passion for a place or a people or a task.  Then we have the chance to follow the tug or run from the call.  Jonah ran…didn’t go well.  These guys have chosen not to run.  I hope you are choosing not to run.  Follow the master.  It is worth the sacrifice.

Join me in lifting up Jacob and John.  Lift up others who are faithful in following the call.  

Mapping Begins...Again...

Continuously over the last several months mapping has continued to be put on hold. It is my fault more than anyone else’s. I struggle with feelings of inadequacy and overwhelment (Is that a word?) regarding the mapping issue. The program we are using is massive, and I have had no real training on how to use it. The goals and the city we are working with are huge. It would be a large amount of work for a trained anthropologist to dive into and I am neither trained nor an anthropologist.

However there is now a plan in the works for diving into mapping. I will spend two days a week out with a national helper doing nothing but looking for the information we want on a map. Another day or two a week will be spent transferring this information into the computer program. The other days of the week will be used to balance all of the other plates I am attempting to keep spinning in the air.

This week only one day was spent out. Tuesday I went driving in a very small section of the city. I picked it as a start because I assumed it would only take a couple hours and we would call it a short day. I was wrong. Six hours after starting we called it a day. It amazing how closely packed people are in this country. It is hard to believe that the things they are willing to call a house we would barely consider livable. (I will try to include a picture of a house I saw in this post.)

We were able to find some great things but more importantly we were able to meet a few people. I met a young Muslim woman and her child on the dirt road. We were driving with our windows open and she stopped us and asked why we would take their picture but not give them food. We talked for a minute about her and her family and her faith and her child. It was a good day.

We also had the chance to share some food with a bunch of deacons from an Orthodox church. I found something I have never seen before. It is a location where holy water comes from. They come there because they believe the water there can heal them of any disease. On the day we were there a family had brought them food. Apparently a family member had died and the tradition holds that if they would bring food to the church leaders the deceased would then be ushered into the kingdom of heaven. The traditions and rituals that surround the faith are far more than I can count or understand.

It was a great day of mapping. More will happen in the near future. I will keep you in the loop. In the next post I’ll explain why only one day was used for mapping this week.

Quick Update...

Sorry it has been so long since posting.  I am still hoping to do the bits on personality characteristics of nationals here.  I haven’t had time to write like I wish.  

However I did want to update about the turmoil here.  Things have been back to normal or busier in the last few days.  Shops are reopening, taxis are running, and everyone and their brother are on the streets because they haven’t been in so long.  

There have been some rumors that things could get ugly again Monday.  The majority of people don’t seem to agree with the possibility.  But continue to remember the situation here.

Stay on the look out for a Day of Prayer.  We want to join together – all of us here with all of our partners around the world – to lift up this country.  Our goal is to find a time where people all over the world can be joined together for the benefit of the people here.  I’ll give you more when I know it.  Also look for a new update letter soon.

Thanks for everything!

"So Long, Farewell..."

They tell me the hardest thing about this job is having to say goodbye so many times.  People flow in and out of here frequently.  Volunteers come in and become a part of your life.  They fall in love with the people you know and work with and then they are gone.  It hurts when they go.  

However they are usually only here a short time.  Some stay for weeks some stay for months.  Tonight I’ll watch another friend leave.  She isn’t a volunteer and she hasn’t been here a couple months.  Steph has spent almost two years of her life here and it isn’t hard to see she has fallen in love.  It is a struggle for her to leave and a struggle for us to see her go.  

We met just over two years ago.  I was headed here for the summer and she was looking to spend two years in Africa.  She wasn’t sure where and we only knew each other through mutual friends.  I put a two week team together and our friends connected us.  She joined the team and spent two weeks here touching lives as hers too was changed.  Nearly two years ago she returned and her impact on this world is evident.  

I have never seen a person so committed to living her life completely for the people she is called to reach.  She pours out all that she has and then some.  She is an example to all followers of living ones life solely committed to the purpose we are called to.  She is passionate about following the master and committed to pursuing his call.  

Now she is headed home.  For a time she will rest and spend time with loved ones.  Then without fail she will be gone again.  I don’t know where the call will lead her but I know the call will come and I know that she will follow.  I can’t wait to hear the stories.

I’ll miss her soon after we drop her at the airport tonight.  I’ll miss her smile.  I’ll miss her patience.  I’ll miss her commitment.  I’ll miss her never failing perseverance.  I pray before hand for those she will meet on the journey ahead.  I pray they are prepared because wherever she goes the truth goes with her.  It is impossible to come into her presence and not recognize you have just collided with the master reincarnate.  

He awaits the day he will greet her with a, “Well done my good and faithful servant!”

A Bit Depressed...

I’ve been down the last couple days.  Some tough stuff has been going on.  

Monday morning I got word that a pastor I know died.  I didn’t know Kyle well.  We had met a couple of times.  I wasn’t involved at UBC, but my friend Mark was and some other friends.  When it happened my mind went to Craig.  Craig and I aren’t the best of friends either.  We know each other.  We were in Jason’s wedding together.  Craig was great friends with Kyle.  Craig often kept Kyle’s three children.  Craig loves those kids.  Craig loves UBC.  Craig loved Kyle.  I’ve been depressed the last day or two thinking about Craig and Kyle’s family, and UBC.

From what I understand, Kyle was about to baptize in his church of probably over 90% Baylor students.  It was Baylor’s homecoming so the numbers were greater.  Apparently a microphone shocked him somehow and electrocuted him to death as he stood in the water.  

How do things like this happen?  How does a 31 year old guy die?  How does a man who is passionate about reaching college students die in the midst of a worship service?  The questions are more prevalent that the answers.  It hurts.  I trust God, but I don’t quite understand this and probably never will.

Monday night I lost another friend.  She didn’t pass away but she left.  She is a national here.  She is 22 or 23 and a beautiful girl.  Most the women here are beautiful by the way.  Yemi left for Dubai.  She continuously ran into road blocks here with school and work.  She saw no way to improve her life here so she left.  She has a responsibility to provide for her family.  She has gone to Dubai to be a house worker for a man there.  He is 29 and single.  He is pretty demanding as I understand.  Typically the people that step into these situations have a few guarantees:  they will be paid little.  They will likely be abused…physically, emotionally, verbally, and probably sexually.

The thoughts of this girl being abused devastate me.  She is moving towards faith.  She isn’t quite there, but she is asking great questions.  She is even getting some persecution from her family because of her questions.  Now she is headed to the Muslim world.  

The hope is that miracles will happen.  The hope is that she will be safe.  The hope is that she will meet the master in that place.  Join with me in lifting her up.

To add to troubles, today is psycho.  Riots have started again.  They began yesterday.  According to CNN.com 8 were killed yesterday 40 or more were injured.  There was more shooting today.  The American Embassy is telling us to stay away from some areas of town (one is actually my neighborhood).  We are all safe and holed up in our homes, but it is crushing.  

The city is in an uproar.  We long for peace.  We hope for wisdom as compromises are reached among different parties.  We don’t have the news sources that most of you are used to.  Therefore we don’t know much.  We don’t know where trouble is.  We don’t see video clips of what is going on.  We don’t have newspapers to read about the problems.  We merely sit and wait for things to return to normal.

Approach the throne with me.

Conservationists...

The nationals here are kings at using things until they can’t be used anymore.  I guess it comes from knowing the reality of having little.  They say people in the states who lived through the depression have a similar mindset.  But I’ve never known anyone quite like this; especially an entire culture that gets the most out of everything.  Let me give some examples.

What you and I would consider trash in the states often doesn’t count as trash here.  It is never littering to throw an empty plastic bottle or Pringles can out the car window.  It is actually quite fun for us.  The children look as if Christmas has come early when they see one skidding down the road or bouncing across the grass having just come from a moving car.  Bottles are good for multiple things after you and I finish our filtered water.  They are toys for children.  They carry water for laundry, drinking, washing, etc.  They make good storage containers.  One in my own cabinets stores tea or something my house worker uses.  

Speaking of trash and my worker, my trash is never safe from scouting.  It is probably gone through multiple times after leaving my hands to go into the trash.  My house worker goes through it first.  I have found jars, jugs, Ziploc’s (I don’t even bother throwing these away now as I know they will be washed and reused), and Pringles cans to name a few things in the room she works in.  After her my guard checks the trash.  Then he gives it to the collection ladies who surely check it again.  They take it to a collection point where it is surely checked again.  Then it is hauled to a dump where I have often seen scavengers perusing.  

Today as I was driving down the road I saw a young boy playing with a toy.  I was never very good at flying a kite.  I could figure out the hold the string and put the kite in the air thing, but I could never get it to fly unless I was running with it trailing a few feet behind me.  The boy I saw was doing something similar.  He had tied a piece of brown cord to a plastic bag.  He ran down the street with his blue bag floating in the air just behind him.  Plastic grocery sacks have multiple uses here too.  My favorite is to see them used as rain hoods.

This shows a bit of how well they reuse, but let me share with you a couple illustrations of how they use things well the first time.  It is typical in the states to go to a restaurant and find a ketchup bottle on the table.  If it isn’t there originally it at least makes its way out once it is needed.  Here it is rare to see the bottle.  The nationals eat every bit of food on their plate and use every bit of any condiment available.  Ketchup is usually put on the plate with fries.  If you ask for more it is often brought in a dish.  I go once in a while with a friend to have a burger; he loves them.  I watch as he eats every bit of ketchup on his plate.  He even licks up what he doesn’t finish with his fries.  Now my sister is weird about ketchup, but this isn’t a ketchup thing it is a using all that is available thing.  I am told that if the entire bottle were brought out, it would finish the meal empty no matter how much was in it at the beginning.

I could go on and on with stories of how well things are used and reused here.  However my desire isn’t to bore you here, it is just to give you a taste of the culture.  

Catching Up...

I want to share a few things with you to catch you up on what is happening and what will be happening.

• I am recovering from malaria nicely. Saturday I was even able to play some basketball. Still have some issues with some pain in my ears. In the near future, when I get off my butt, I will go see a specialist about them.

• The time down with illness bored me to death. But interestingly, now I am having a tough time jumping back into society. I’m not sure what it is that has me hesitant, but I’m having to force myself to get out in the streets these days. Remember this with me as being with people is the core of my responsibility here.

• The next week and a half or so I am really diving into the discipleship material I have mentioned to you. We would like to have something to test in the next couple of weeks so I will be trying to get that together.

• After wrapping some of the material stuff up I will be getting more involved with my mapping project. I am going to hire a helper and commit several days a week to nothing but mapping.

• The guys that lived with me and have been gone for the last month will return today. They will be here a couple weeks or so. Ask that relationships flourish while they are here with me. Ask for patience and flexibility as we deal with new living situations…again.

• Some of you have asked about pictures. You likely see six to the right of this entry. If you click on any one of them they will take you to one of six slide shows of several pictures. Many are labeled and have descriptions of what is going on or where it was taken. I think you even have the ability to go to a specific picture and print it or download it to your computer. If you have problems let me know.

• I want to write a series of entries for this page. Each entry will describe a generalized characteristic of the people here. My hope is to give you a better glimpse into what the people here look and act like. My hope is to write/post one a day. We’ll see how that goes. Let me give a warning I will give again later. Some of the characteristics will be negatives based on my perception. It might even sound like I am complaining about or slamming the people. Remember I am in love with the people of this culture. I am going to be honest with my feelings and opinions as I analyze and critique. That doesn’t change that I love the people and the culture here and love the chance to live in the midst of it.

Thanks for everything. Thank you for staying faithful in lifting up me, the nationals, and the work here. Know that you are thought of and remembered often.

Getting There...

I’ve been hoping to give you more stories in the last few days. The truth is…I don’t have much to share. I’ve been spending my days working out of home. I’m not fully recovered yet so my return to the world has been slow. They say the malaria hit pretty hard and took several days to be diagnosed so it still may be a bit before I’m back to 100%.

The biggest problems currently have to do with some dizziness and tiredness. I’ve not been able to go a full day yet. I get tired earlier than usual.

I’ve had a good weekend hanging with some friends though. It is so great to have found some people to spend time with.

Thanks for continuing to lift me up as I recover.

Recovering and Newsletter

A new newsletter has been sent out.  So look for it in your inboxes.  When you get it you will see that I am starting to feel better.  We learned Saturday that I had malaria.  I have taken the medicine for it but they say it still may be a few days before I regain my energy.  Somewhere in the process I also acquired a worm.  Isn’t that gross?  

Had some stories planned for here but ended up including most on the newsletter.  So I hope to get some new things up here soon.

Also in the next few days there will be a new category of pictures on the right.  I have taken a storage room outside my house and turned it into a type of prayer room.  I put some cushions and things out there.  On the walls I put pictures of some faces and scenes to encourage me and inspire me as I pray.  I want to make the same pictures available to you.  So in the next few days you’ll find a link to the slideshow.

Thanks for lifting me up while I’ve been sick.  Don’t quit yet as I’m not quite out of the woods.

Sickly...

If you have a chance lift up healing. Been sick since Saturday. Fever climbing over 102. Had one meal since Satuday night...barphed it back up. Sore body. The list goes on. Docs not sure the problem. Pray with me! Thanks

Stuff I'm Reading...

Closing sentence in an essay: "If we don't pray according to the needs of the heart, we repress our deepest longings. Our prayers may not be rational, and we may be quite aware of that, but if we repress our needs, then those unsaid prayers will fester." - Madeleine L'Engle in Glimpses of Grace

Opening sentence in an essay: "An agnostic is somebody who doesn't know for sure whether there really is a God. That is some people all of the time and all people some of the time." Frederick Buechner in Beyond Words

Worship...

I had a chance to worship Friday night. Sadly those occurrences have become less frequent.

Weekly I meet with some friends and coworkers. We gather together in one of our houses to worship together. For some reason those events stopped being worship for me. I don't know what changed. I know our numbers have grown. I know the time has become more structured.

Perhaps it is the growth. Perhaps it is the lack of fluidity. Perhaps it is the separation of children from the grown ups. I'm not a fan of that part. A couple of years ago I read a book that began to change my mind about the participation of children in worship.

Now I'm still too western, so misbehaving children distract and frustrate me at times. But if I remain focused on the love of the master I can recognize that even he called the little children to him. We work so hard at keeping our children quiet and behaved when we worship. We tell them "come as you are" but we show them "you better come like I say you should."

Friday I was given the responsibility of hanging out with the two children that were with us. One was three the other was five. They are precious and sometimes wild. They love to laugh and play. I wasn't given much prep time considering I got their lesson as I walked up the stairs with them. Afterwards I was happy for the lack of preparation. We were able to play. Now we didn't get out toys and go crazy. We spent an hour or so playing with the master.

We laughed and tickled and wrestled a bit. Then Jackson found a piano keyboard under a shelf and he wanted to play with it. Now western me surfaced and I started to say, "No this isnt play time." Then I remembered to let the children come as they are. Jackson banged on the keyboard. Hannah sang on the attached microphone. They picked songs from Jesus Loves Me to Open the Eyes of my Heart. Together we sang and laughed and worshiped.

I miss worship. It was such a beautiful night.

Happy New Year...

Yesterday afternoon I went to play basketball for a couple hours. I came home to find a chicken in my yard. I wasn't sure what was going on. I asked my guard, "Whose chicken is this?" "It is my brothers," he responded in a manner like I should have assumed the answer before asking the question.

It is New Years here. 1998 began today. I don't know the story behind why it is still 1998. I only know Y2K is fast approaching and yesterday and today are cause for great celebration. Even poor families will dish out the money to buy a chicken or a goat or an ox to eat.

It is four in the afternoon. I have had three meals already. None of them were dinner. Tradition here is that you celebrate the New Year by inviting friends and family to join you for a meal. When a white person becomes part of the tradition it means they invite you for a meal and likely won't eat with you.

The problem with being a white guy with national friends is that you get more invites than you can accommodate. I turned down two offers for lunch and accepted two.

The first lunch started at about 10:30. We ate a ton. They refuse to ever let you stop eating. "Eat, eat!" they say. And eat I did. I ate so much at the first lunch I was stuffed. Then I headed to the second.

The second was in the home of my house worker. This was the first time I had been invited to her new home. It has two rooms. You enter into what they call a salon; we would likely call it a living room. Just behind that room is a multipurpose bedroom/kitchen.

Two of her four children were there, along with a son-in-law and a two week old grandbaby. It was great to be in her home with her family. She is a wonderful, loving lady. Her family is also. They are devout Orthodox. They very much love the God of their understanding. My struggle is that that God speaks very little of grace or love.

As the new begins here I hope this will be a time of newness in all of life. She has a new year, a new house, a new grandbaby, and my prayer is she will gain a new perspective of the God who died to show his love for her.

Crooked Umbrella...

[Listening to: Africa - Toto - Billboard Top Hits - 1983 (4:22)]

What a day. It feels like it began weeks ago. Throughout a day I will have something happen and want to write about it. Today it happened more times than I can count or write about. The morning started with a meeting with an old friend I haven't seen in months. We had a macchiato and a donut together at a café.

Then he went with me to the post office. It is a mile or two from the house and takes some walking and one minibus (see previous posts for explanation). Today I couldn't get a minibus. I was also struck by an older couple there waiting too. The woman wore a white blanket of sorts which is customary. Her head was covered and she was in her 50s or 60s. She was trying hard to get a taxi.

The man with her had something wrong with his eyes. My friend found out he had just had surgery. He walked with a cane and clearly felt helpless. As she fought for a taxi see he sat on a stool beside the road.

After many failures my heart was broken for her. We waited probably 30 minutes with them. I gave up on a taxi, but had to get them on one before I would leave. I said a brief prayer silently asking for a contract taxi. Finally one came along.

I flagged them down and waved the lady and my friend over. "Get a good price for her," I told my friend. He did and she got in. We helped the man into the back seat which was a struggle. I handed the driver the money. The woman would have waited all day before paying the extra to ride in a contract taxi. She thanked me repeatedly and kissed my hand. I wished her a happy new year and muttered a few things about God blessing her.

As we left me friend said, "That was a good think you did for her." I couldn't stand to see them continue to fight for a seat with no help. I believe firmly the truth is seen in our lives. We don't always need to speak words to show the master. Today that couple saw the love of the master in a white man who paid barely over a dollar for a taxi ride. It felt good.

It started raining before getting home. We had a bunch of people coming to our house tonight so we needed to make a grocery run. We waited on a break in the rain. It slowed. We went to the grocery by minibus. The first store didn't have tomato sauce. I stopped at a second store to get some for spaghetti sauce our worker was making.

On the way out I had a boo boo. I slipped on the wet stairs. PARALLEL! My feet were the same level as my head. I caught the rail with my left hand to no avail. The jars of sauce shattered in the plastic bag in my right hand. It hurt so badly. My umbrella has a big bend in the middle.

At places like this they have a guard that helps watch cars and direct them in and out of the lot. He rushed to my side. He grabbed my arm and started pulling. Now the average guard at a place like this grew up with Moses. Not really but he was no young man. And he was about 1/3 the size of me. After much pleading I convinced him to wait. I needed to get my bearings before coming back up. I knew my elbow was sore from receiving the brunt of the fall, but I decided I was okay. After a few seconds I rose.

I turned to find two more men there to check on me. One tried to convince me I should sit and rest a while. I politely refused. The whole store stared. I was embarrassed. I couldn't even tell what they were saying about the fat white guy who fell down the stairs.

Humbly I walked back in the store and bought the last remaining jar of sauce. I used the rail the next time out. I got on a taxi and went home. I laughed with my roommates at my umbrella and my fall. Life goes on!

Later in the afternoon we were able to play with some children on the street in front of our house. It was beautiful to see them laugh as we played with a football and Frisbee. They are terrible at both, but they sure enjoyed it.

Today was the kind of day that ends in exhaustion. But days like this also end with a big smile. Today was a good day!

Oh yeah! And happy birthday Mom!

Dentists and Spiders...

I went to see a dentist today. I wasn't going to get my teeth looked at. I'll be honest and tell you I was a bit terrified of the whole African dentist thing. I was pleasantly surprised.

I was going to meet the dentist because a dentist from the States is coming here next week. The visiting dentist will present an oral hygiene presentation at the resource center. The dentist's office is just above our center. We wanted to extend an invitation to the doctor and his helpers.

Once I climbed the stairs and finally found the office I came into a reception area where a woman in glasses sat behind a desk. All that was on the desk with her was a phone. I greeted her in her language and she asked what I needed. I asked if she spoke English. She said, in her language, "What do you want?" I explained in English. She said, "Have a seat."

I moved to a wall and stood to wait. I was almost forced to sit down. Their hospitality is so great. I sat in a room and waited with 9 nationals. All of them were enthralled. They weren't staring at me which happens quite often. Instead they were lost in the television that hung in the corner just behind me. I didn't have much of a view but I wanted to see what they were all watching.

I heard English but didn't recognize anything. Finally I saw a man running from a house full of spiders and realized it must be Arachnophobia. They were loving it. They love American movies. It has both pros and cons.

The plus is that it helps them learn language. This is one reason we try to stock movies at the resource center (we need more by the way). A downfall is they start to imitate us. They start to dress like us. They start to talk like us. These include all the negatives: to much flesh showing, lots of cussing, etc.

One little girl in the office must have been eight or ten. She was there with her mom and watched the movie intently. I could see her face scrunch as she got scared. I saw her bury her head in her mom's chest once, only to peek through her fingers covering her eyes. She was precious.

Three braided pigtails stuck out of her head sort of like Pippy Longstocking. She wore a white shirt and skirt that clearly went together based on the bright yellow sunflowers that decorated both of them. She wore white tights with an embroidered pattern and white cowboy boots that came just above her ankles.

They caught me watching her. We smiled at each other. They returned to the movie. I kept watching them. People here are so fascinating.

Apparently the receptionists understood me, because I was called to come and speak to a young lady in a black sweater wearing one rubber glove. I asked if she was the dentist and she told me he was gone today. Come to find out he is only there on Tuesday and Thursday; but today was Thursday. He had another program today. She told me to come back next week. I shared the details of the program and invited them all.

This could be a great chance for us to build a relationship. Approach the throne on their behalf.

Driving Miss Daisy...On Speed...

Driving here is a bit crazy. They don't tend to follow western rules or procedure. Many have visited and asked if the lines on the road were merely suggestions. I'm not sure they have that much authority. The typical driver does the majority of learning on a dirt patch with some wooden posts sticking out of the ground. So pavement and lines are a bit of a stretch.

Personally I think it is a blast driving. Reminds me of a video game. Not to mention I drive pretty similar in the states anyway. Ask my parents or Jason.

Two intersections are fairly well known. One is named after the gigantic grain bins that sit in one corner of the intersection. It has numerous nicknames: "malfunction junction," "mass chaos," "confusion corner." Contrary to initial thoughts when viewing the thoroughfare it is actually only a four way intersection. But each lane has three to six lanes of traffic. There are no lights or signs and traffic police only make a bigger mess.

The other is kind of town center. It is a six way. Each road has 4+ lanes going each way. The meeting point of the six has about 8 lanes proceeding each way. This place serves as a taxi stop, a meeting place, a training facility for athletes, a concert venue, and many other things. There are actually stop-lights here that are fairly well followed and this is the only place in town you can turn right on red.

Today as we walked through the square I noticed something odd. A man was sprawled out face down in between the opposing lanes of traffic. I asked my friend if he was okay at which he said, "Of course, he is sleeping." He wasn't a bit shocked and I don't know why I was. It isn't unusual to see people sleeping in strange places. But perhaps the problem was this one looked dead. Made me a bit nervous. I rarely get shocked here anymore; it was nice. I hope the man really was just sleeping though.

Taking Over the World...

Today I went to one of those big sales bazaars like they have in the states. You know the kind you pay five dollars to get into so that you can see what is for sale. It is like a flea market without the dirt, and junk.

Much of the stuff was the same I can find on the street here. But some of it was from other countries. They had crafts from Egypt and food from there too. A friend bought a shirt from Pakistan. I bought a couple of those energy saving really bright lights. They have them elsewhere here, but I wasn't elsewhere.

The funniest thing I saw was in a small stall of Christian books. Many of them where in the national language, but a few were in English. They had a couple books from Francine Rivers. They had a couple from Bruce Wilkinson. They even had a couple copies of The Message. However my favorite of their supply I don't even know the name of. I didn't focus as much on the title as I did the sticker in the top right corner.

It had a barcode on it and all the words were in English. As I got closer I saw it costs 6.95 but there was a US dollar sign on it. A tad closer and I saw the original seller...Wal-Mart. I laughed as I left; they had no clue what I thought was so funny. How do you explain Wal-Mart to third world residents?

Trash or Toy...

The creativity of people who have nothing amazes me. My grandfather tells a story of when he was a child. He says that his family was so poor they had to come up with homemade toys. If you know Dub you probably know he tells the story a bit differently but I'm not sure it is appropriate for all readers. But if you can't sleep without knowing ask him about his pants' pockets. It reminds me of an old Chuck Berry song my mom introduced me to.

Today I was walking down the street with a national friend of mine. I noticed a young boy who was clearly a beggar. But at this moment he wasn't begging; he wasn't paying attention to passersby; he was playing.

Beggars are a bit noticeable. They tend to be dressed in brown or green. It is usually faded a shade or 10 shades but it is still the noticeable brown or green. Often their faces are dirty and their haircuts are a bit unordinary. Usually the little boys have a shaved head with a little tuft at the hairline. They tell me that this has two purposes. The shaving is to prevent lice or other things that come from lack of cleanliness.

The tuft is about a continuing superstition. They believe evil spirits attack things that are nice and pretty. Because of this in some places they spit on babies - to make them less appealing. The tuft of hair is so that the angels can rescue them when they get attacked. They believe the angel swoops down and grabs them by their hair to remove them from danger.

So back to today's little boy. He was having a blast. He was sitting on his butt with his legs spread out in front of him. All of his focus was on his toy. It wasn't a toy I would have been satisfied with as a child. I have to admit I was a bit spoiled.

The little boy who captured my attention had his attention on a Coke cap. We drink from glass bottles here. The tops are sometimes thrown in trash cans and sometimes on the street. Apparently this one had made it to the street. And what you and I would consider trash was a treasure to this boy. Over and over again he would toss it about a foot in the air and catch it again. He threw it and caught it and threw it and caught it as long as I could see him.

I was impressed by his ingenuity. I was blessed by his joy in spite of poverty. I was touched by the smile on his face as he played with a piece of metal which to him meant as much as a gold coin would have. What a wonderful world!

Guard Duty...

I had to do something Thursday. It is one of the hardest things I've done since living in this country. I had to release a guard. The way houses are set up here is that everything is inside its own compound. It makes no difference whether you are in the city or the countryside each house or sometimes a families' grouping of houses is inside its own gate.

My gate is green. Around the top of the fence is razor wire. In the states we would assume someone really rich lives in my house, or else it is a small prison. Each house always has a person standing guard. We have three. They switch off so that one of them is always here.

Very little major crime happens in this country. However there is some theft. In the local logic, if you have something that you don't protect you must not care if someone takes it. At our learning center the phone had no lock on it. One month someone made repeated calls to Austria. We must not have minded if they made calls or we would have locked the dial pad...it is now locked. The same logic applies to a car or my house. If I don't have a guard I must not care if someone breaks in. But I do care so I have guards.

Thursday I had to release one. He had only been here a couple months. He was a great guy, but he couldn't make the cut. For a while I thought he was lazy or a bit dumb. Over time I began to think maybe he couldn't hear. We would knock on the gate and he would never come answer. One day I came out the front door and he wasnt more than fifteen feet away. As I drew within five I said hello; he didn't respond. Finally when I slammed the car door I got his attention.

The problems continued and were compounded by a lie he told the guards and his inability to help our house worker. Eventually we decidedwe would have to let him go. I have limited language so I started the conversation and then had an advisor finish it. I thought the guy was gonna cry; I thought I was gonna cry.

It is tough to live in a place of such poverty. Standing before me was a young guy who wanted a job. He was a good guy, but he couldn't protect the house. I released him from his work and gave him a gift as new years is approaching. I asked him to call me sometime and we would get tea or coffee. I'm not sure I'll ever hear from him. I think I crushed him. I crushed me. I'm still not sure what the right thing to do was.

Rooney...

Much of the summer I drove a car. Life is typically much easier here in a personal car. But something is missing. Months ago I wrote about the modes of transport here and shared the pros and cons of driving or riding or walking. I won't bore you with that again. But I do want to share a reality of driving.

I become more likely to miss the beauty and joy of the society when I drive. Even today I was walking through the streets people would call out to me. "Rooney" they would yell. I always know they are speaking to me. It isn't my name and it isn't a new nickname I've developed; well I guess it sort of is.



The people here tend to think I look like this guy. His name is Wayne Rooney and he is a football (soccer) player for Manchester United. Typically one thing can always be known here. If a national likes Manchester he/she doesn't like Arsenal and vice versa. Therefore I often ask who they like and pick the opposite. It is a fun way to play with them.


It used to drive me crazy to hear them yell this name as I walked by. But I've grown to love it. I've learned that the people here have strange ways of saying hello. They yell "you" or "foreigner" or to me "Rooney." The first two are always in their language. It can be frustrating and even seem rude. The truth is they just want your attention. They want to see your face and your smile. Some want to see your pocket book, but most are satisfied with the smile or a handshake.

I swear these are the most beautiful people on the face of the earth. I'm glad to be walking the streets more.

Material...

I don't consider myself much of a writer. I remember writing papers in school and having my little sister proofread them for me because she was so much better at it. I remember writing a paper in grad school that a friend read and said I wrote like I talked (never figured out if that was good or bad).

In spite of this reality, I am in the midst of trying to write something. For some time in the States there has been a problem in churches. We have functioned as if a decision to follow the master is the finish line. We allow people to come to that point and then we ask them to barefoot the rest of faith. This runs a very dangerous risk of becoming a fire insurance style, stay out of hell, salvation.

It seems to me that the book talks of more of an on going relationship. Walking in faith is a journey with the God. A decision to join the journey should be the starting line, not the finish line. We need to work harder at raising up those who are joining our walk.

With this in mind we are trying to prepare a resource to help raise up healthy believers here. I am taking the lead on compiling/writing this material. Tons of stuff currently exists. However the majority of those things are written for western minds. And while the call is the same for followers all over the world the means of getting there differs depending on culture.

As we try to prepare material several issues arise. Join us in asking for wisdom as we work through these things. Also realize these are beginning thoughts. I am still learning what the culture looks like. I am constantly asking for wisdom as we try and reach these people.

- Orality v. Literately - The illiteracy rate in this country is as high as 70%. That is a lot of people that can't read or write their own language much less English (which the majority of material is written in). Even if we write something in English and then translate it, we would have to teach many of the people here to read before they could begin growing in faith. Even those that can read learn in an oral manner. They don't learn through reading and writing as well as through hearing and speaking. Therefore teaching methods here need to involve stories and sharing aloud truths. They will then repeat and memorize as they learn. A desire of mine as we write material is that we write it for us the American literate mind. As we reproduce it with others we will do so orally. They will never have the printed work in hand.

- Indigenous v. Imported - For something to be indigenous it means that it is of the culture. Many of the bodies here don't carry that trait. They look more like my culture than theirs. We do believe that we have some thoughts, and goals, and principles that are valuable to the believers here. However we want them leading their own people because they understand the culture more than I ever can. This is another reason to dodge printed material. This way we can give them nuggets and they get to take those and do with them as they have been led, not so much by us as the Spirit.

- Black v. White - This is less of a color issue than a cultural issue. The foreigners have great respect here. Last week I sat in a meeting with the heads of a college that wants to partner with our ERC. This week they called and invited us to come to their first graduation as the special guests. They want to put a robe on us and have us sit up front. We have no partnership yet; they don't even know us; however we are white. The desire is that those being raised in the faith will be raised up by national believers. Several issues come into play here. First, we don't have enough national believing partners to lead those making decisions. Second, is in line with the issue mentioned above. Many of the believers here have been taught a way that goes against culture. Now I won't deny that our faith is countercultural. It goes against the norm; it bucks the system. At the same time, it is culture sensitive. Shepherd stories were told because J. was teaching shepherds. Those challenged to be "fishers of men" weren't the tax collectors, they were fisherman. The goal was to communicate the truth in a way that fit with their current worldview, but at the same time stretched their world to new places. Third, people tend to place great respect in those that walked the journey with them. We want that to be a black face, not a white one. The day will come we will leave. We aren't here forever, we are here to accomplish the task and then let it run wild, fired only by the passion of nationals and the wisdom of the Spirit. We also don't want to see a repeat of the issues in the body at Corinth. It seems Paul was dealing with the believers fighting over who had more worth because of who led them on the way. Paul says who cares, what is important isn't the person but God.

- Lifestyle v. Program - As we read of the master leading his followers we don't see a weekly meeting to digest ideas. We don't see occasional teaching sessions and the rest of the time it is do as you will. He walked beside his followers. He journeyed with them. He laughed with them, cried with them, and grew with them. That is the goal of discipleship. It is the idea of one farther down the path walking with one who just began the journey. A major issue is how to turn printed material to oral material that is about living life together not teaching. The lack of partners adds to this, because relationships currently will have to be manipulated rather than natural.

Well this is getting long and I am at the end of my current thoughts on the issue. Please join me in asking for wisdom as we move through this process.

Computer...

Well it is back in working order. I'm not pleased yet as I still have programs left to add but I am getting there. Gonna try and put a few new posts on in the next few days. Those checking in have dropped in my absence. Thanks for those of you that stick around.

Great When They Are Working...

It is sad but true. I live a life reliant on my laptop. It is my primary means of communication and I do the large majority of my work on it. I don't remember the last time I hand wrote a letter...I don't really type many of those either.

This weekend my hard drive crashed. Therefore my responses to your emails may be limited for a time and I will likely not be posting much here. I have access to computers to get must do work done, but not like I usually do.

Hope to be back up and running in a couple weeks.

"Sun" and Mary...

Yesterday I met a woman whose name means sun. She wore a blue dress the same material that scrubs in the state are made of. Her right eye had been blinded somehow. It was obvious by the discoloration.

When I walked into the room she was standing near a counter scooping out powdered milk. She was adding water and putting it inside bottles. As I watched her she brought several small children to a padded table and began to change diapers.

I walked up on her as she changed one. The diaper was a piece of cloth. After wrapping the cloth she took a piece of plastic and wrapped it around the kids legs and waist so as to tie it around the cloth. It held the diaper on. On top of the diaper was a wooly pair of pants to keep the child warm. After watching "Sun" and my friends hold and play and care for the babies one was offered to me.

I took hold of Mary. "Sun" told me her name and said she was about a month old. She was beautiful and tiny. The small pink hat on her head was way too big and continuously rotated down over her eyes. We watched one another for some time. Finally her eyes began to appear heavy. She drifted off to sleep. I held her for a few more minutes before placing her back in her crib.

The orphanage we were at is surrounded by kids cursed by AIDS. Some of the children, from infants to 17, have the disease or its precursor themselves. Others had lost parents because of AIDS. I've heard that as many as 12 to 13 million people here are HIV positive. The children were beautiful.

We left the infants and headed for a room with many children who were probably 4 to 6. They loved us. They would surround us and tug at our hands and/or clothes. A few were fascinated with my bit of facial growth. The would rub their soft tiny hands on my cheeks and chin and lips. They seemed to enjoy the feel of our warm skin. More than one placed my hands on their own neck. They were desperate for touch; desperate for love.

They were so beautiful, I'd love to adopt a few and bring them home with me.

I met an Irish woman named Bernie while I was there. Bernie talked about how she worked hard to remove herself from the fact that they had the disease. She didn't want to become too associated with them or the real affects of their illness. It made me think about the movie Patch Adams. Robin Williams' character seemed to think that associating with the disease was therapeutic to the patient.

I just wanted to find the best way to love them. How do you love children you know are dying? Is it possible to love them the same as other children? We are promised that they are just as loved by their creator. It is hard for me to belive that some people would write off these children as sin because they are cursed with such a terrible illness. I'd like to take them to this place. I'd like them to meet Mary and the others. I'd like them too look at their beautiful smiles, and bright eyes, and little green teeth. I'd like them to smile and laugh and cry with beautiful children. Then I would like to see them leave with the realization that no matter the illness, the future of this child, or the past that has cursed them they are loved.

Hiking...

I think I've kicked the sickness. I didn't however choose the wisest way to move out of it. Last Wednesday I left the city with a group headed to the mountains. We were going to hike for 2 ½ days. It kicked my butt.

We drove about 5 hours (2 on a dirt/rock road) to one of the most beautiful regions of the country. The first day we hiked several kilometers and I will admit I was dead. I began to get really cold and got a fever again. I took a nap and some Advil and finally kicked it by morning. However the next two days I spent on horse back instead of on foot. We rode about 9 miles the second day.

I didn't realize it but we were almost done with the second day of hiking. I hiked in this same area 2 years ago. That time I tried to ride a horse. The problem was that the "horse" was about the size of an overgrown dog. I gave up on him when he nearly fell down the hill with me on his back. This time the horses were bigger, but quite stubborn.

So as I was saying we were almost done with the day's hike. The horse in front of me decided to make its own trail through some bushes. Mine followed. Then my horse decided to run me into a thorn bush. I tried to dodge by sliding to the side a bit. The saddle went with me. All of the sudden the saddle was on the side of the horse instead of the top. If I continued to hold on I was going to end up under the horse.

Instead I fell off. I landed in a thorn bush. Which sure didn't feel good. The bigger problem came with my foot. I've seen enough westerns to know that a foot stuck in the stirrup is not a good thing. Mine was stuck. I tried to jerk it loose but no luck. Finally I was able to raise the other foot and pry mine out.

Then comes the guide. Wasn't doing much of a job was he. He was about 5'6" and 125 pounds soaking wet. Yet here he comes to get the fat kid out of a thorn bush. I yelled, "Wait, Wait, Stop!" Then I directed him to a place he could be of help as I worked my way out of the thorn bush.

Almost got thrown off another horse on day three, so needless to say, I'll be staying away from the horses here for a bit.

There are some pics of the trip to the right.

Sickness...

I have been sick for over a week now. I leave the house rarely and am usually am exhausted upon returning. Monday I went to see the doctor. At that point the majority of my problem had to do with stomach cramping and the trots (this is Africa; couth is dead). They gave me a plastic test tube which had a small spoon of sorts on the inside. I wasn't real comfortable with the predicament, but I didn't have a lot of options at this point.

I removed myself to the bathroom to attempt getting a little poopie in the scoopie. Now I must say this too was quite a dilemma. What do you do? Do you try and catch it on the way down? Do you wipe off with it after finishing? Where were the directions with this thing? The bigger problem began before answering these questions though. After days of not being able to stop using the bathroom...I had stage fright. Sat for a while, no luck. I decided to walk around a bit and drink some hot tea (natural diuretic). Finally I returned to the bathroom.

This time I took some friends. I remember I was listening to Sarah McLachlan on my iPod, reading Donald Miller, and praying when finally it came. I went for the catch option, missing the first flight, but thankfully catching the second.

After thanking God for his work and that of Sarah and Donald I waited for results. I found out that if this kind of test shows positive it is 100%, but if negative it might not be 100%. Mine was negative, meaning I might not have anything.I was given some Imodium (I call it a plug), charged $200 USD, and told if the symptoms persisted return for more tests. My two roommates on the other hand did have something. One had a couple creatures living in his gut, and the other had contracted malaria. Now which of us is the lucky one...at least they know what is wrong with them.

So now I'm to Friday. Not well yet, although the symptoms have changed. Now I am exhausted and feel dizzy and lightheaded all the time. Maybe I'll return to the doctor Monday. Sure hope I don't have to because I'm well by then.

Thought I'd share. Thanks for lifting up every reality of life here.

Hel-lo...

Nudity is viewed differently in the states than it is here. it is a strange paradox. Traditionally people are very modest and are well covered. This includes head covering and/or a blanket on top of their head and upper body.

At the same time it is pretty common to see a mother breast feeding in the middle of the road. In the countryside it is possible and not unlikely to see a woman wearing only a skirt with nothing covering her chest.

As common as it is I must admit I still get embarrassed at the site of a naked breast. While Mom and Dad were here we walked in on a girl changing. The previous day I had been shown a back entrance into a dining room of a café. It got me where I needed to be much quicker. On the day in question I had shown Dad and Whitney that door and now Mom and I were about to go through it.

Mom opened the door and turned to retreat. I gave her a slight push and said, "It is okay, go". Come to find out Mom was coming back because she had just walked in on a young girl changing shirts. I was to impatient to trust her and therefore we both walked in on her. I covered my face and apologized as the girl carried on like nothing happened.

The day before yesterday I went with my guard to refill our case of bottled cokes. We still use bottles. We return them to get refills. As we walked up to this small street side shop where I was to buy them a young girl entered from the door in the back of the store. Typically this door leads into the families one or two room house that is attached to the shop. She came out just as she would fully clothed the only difference is her shirt was still in her hand and she had no intention of wearing any thing under it.

I must admit, even after she put on her shirt I had a tough time shaking her hand.

Recap...

You should have just recently received my update email. If not than you aren't getting them for some reason. Having received it, you know that I have returned from Kenya and am home safe and super busy. Kenya ended okay. I made some friends while there and had some people to spend time with which helped the situation a lot.

But I was ready to get back home. I remember well stepping off the airplane and smelling the air. The air here has a distinct smell. It must be a combination between car exhaust, dead animals, excrement (human and animal), body odor, local spices, and animals. Sounds nice doesn't it. I think this is how I know I have fallen in love. The smell of the city was a welcome home. It was a wonderfully refreshing odor.

Since then much has happened. I've moved. The new house is nice and I am adjusting to roommates. I have actually begun mapping. I still don't know how to use the program to do it but I am learning and doing preliminary preparation. We secured a map and are beginning to transfer it into something usable.

My parents and two others from Lone Oak were here for a short time. It was such an encouragement to have them here. Two years ago I came here and fell in love. After returning home many asked about my trip but they wanted the 30-second version. It can't be done right. I eventually stopped telling. Then a month after being home I met with my parents in Arkansas. They asked about my summer and I gave the 30-second answer I had learned everyone wanted. They wouldn't settle for it. They sat me down and made me retell my experience. Now they have seen it and I believe they too have fallen in love with the people here. It is exciting.

Mom, Dad, Whitney, and I visited some historical sites here in the country. It was beautiful. I will try and post some pictures for you.

Our team has grown by four more people since I returned and we have already seen over 20 volunteers and the summer has just begun. Great things are happening and again I promise to do better updating you about them. Moving threw me out of wack for a bit.

Ouch...

I got a chance to laugh at myself yesterday. I do so quite often I must admit, but yesterday was a good one. I found a little book store in a shopping center of sorts. I was trying to find a way to kill sometime so I went in to look. In the states I would frequent places like Barnes and Noble just to see what was new and to admire the covers. Here I am bored. Bookstores are tough here. If there is some order to them I have never figured it out. At home I can buy a book telling me how to use Microsoft Word...1997. So there isn't much new.

After rummaging around for a while I bought a book I've wanted to read for a while. Since being here I have read one in entirety and finished half of another. I bought the first Harry Potter. I've heard they were good so thought maybe I should join the club and see if I like them.

So on the way out I was still noticing the books in the window. I saw some videos and then what I thought was a box set of the Karate Kid movies on DVD. I leaned closer to see and whack!

Depth perception is an interesting thing. If you are focusing on something in the distance you might not even notice something up close. I looked like a bird or a fly trying to get back through a window. I rammed my head right into the glass.

As any American (maybe any person) would do I quickly did the looking around to see who was watching. The two Kenyans on the other side of the window were cracking up, as was the Kenyan man standing behind me. We all four had a good laugh as I rubbed my head. Come to find out it was just another video tape. So all of that embarrassment for nothing.

First Day in Kenya...

So far, not a fan of Kenya. The city here seems to be a city that decided to try modernity in the 70's. They failed and haven't updated much of anything since then. I started the day by going to a mall where I could get a computer serviced for a friend. I found the place and looked around some of it was interesting. I couldn't remember what I was supposed to do I in a place like that.

The number of white people here and amount of English spoken amazes me. This morning I was missing home pretty badly (and I mean my home in Africa). I kept catching myself speaking Amharic to people.

The part of the day I did enjoy started just after leaving that mall. I was warned not to be very careful if I chose to ride what I ride most often at home. It is like a small van. These seat 14 people and run specific routes. They are a very cheap form of transportation. This made me feel like I was back home with the people I love.

I rode for a while on 46, the one I was told to find. Then a man asked where I was going and I told him. He told me I passed it. Come to find out I got on 46 going the wrong way. I rode out into a small village like area of the city. It had dirt roads and little shops. It was my favorite part of the day. It looked like Africa!

I came back to my guesthouse to drop off some things and then went to a closer mall. I braved the vans again. This time I got on the right ones and got where I wanted. I was again disappointed though. The mall was rundown and didnt have anything very interesting. Man I miss Best Buy.

The funniest part of the day was the security guards in these malls. One helped me use an ATM...forgot my PIN. I had noticed his outfit just before starting. He wore black pants and shoes (normal), with a black nightstick (normal). His shirt was purple or blue (kind of weird, but almost normal) and he wore a black tie. Then came the shocker, on his head was a helmet. It was a baseball-batting helmet. No joke it was dead on a batting helmet...complete with the ear holes. I laughed a bit and finished my withdrawal. Later in the day I saw another. I was thankful for his ability to bring a smile to my face.

A New Country...

I am in a new country. I should be excited about it...I'm not. My visa will expire soon. I have to get a new one. I am now in the process. I am sitting in a room that will be mine for a while in Kenya. This should be like a vacation I don't have to pay for, but I don't feel that way.

I want to be home at work. I think part of the issue is that I am here alone. I'm not driving the road from Waco to home and I've just stopped for the night alone (which I enjoy) I am in a country I have never stepped foot into and I am here all alone. It is a bit uncomfortable. I'm not sure what to do or where to go to do it.

I don't want to sit in my room all week or two (we arent sure how long I'll be here). I want to enjoy the sites and the city and a new country. I want to meet people and see what life looks like here.

Although I may be home before these things post I will write as though you are reading as Im doing. My passport was DHLed today. They said it should reach the US by Thursday. At which point the visa service will go about acquiring a new visa. Then they mail it to a coworker in the states who will mail it here as fast as possible. The whole thing could take one week, could take two, could be longer.

So until I get my passport back I sit and wait.

James, the man who drove me from the airport to where I am staying was pretty cool. We had a great time talking about life here and how it compared to the states and where I live. It was good. It was a good sign that this could be a great trip.

The truth is I am excited for it to end. When it ends I return home. I move and shortly after my parents and two others from Paducah show up. Then a few days later my sister comes. I am so excited for my family to see this place I have fallenin love with and chosen to spend this part of my life in. It will be great. A highlight I expect.

Computer Man...

I have grown intimidated to write. I received compliments on some writing only because I was paying attention and watching for stories. Now that I don't see interesting stories, I write nothing rather than less.

So let me attempt to just write no matter the material so that you may know more of what is happening.

The end of last week was quite busy. I spent three full days trying to rehab computers at the ERC. I think I have told you it was a new job I adopted once arriving. I am the guy that gets called to fix others computers. In the last month I have helped Jonn's, Mary Lou's, Jerri's, Jacob's, James', and the ERC computers. Wish I got paid for this at the rate people do in the states...I'd be doing quite well.

The computers exhausted me. The beginning of the week was spent helping my supervisors move into their house. Thursday, Friday, and Saturday were spent on the computers. They are running quite well now, which is good for us and the students that use them. I hope we can keep them in good shape.

New Feature...

Partnering with you guys is a very important aspect of what I do here. I have spent a lot of time today adding a new feature to the journal here. I thought you might enjoy seeing some pictures. So, to the right you will see a few thumbnails. If you click on them they will take you to a slideshow. From there you can go see the pictures and or others I have posted. You can even download them to keep a copy if you would like to do so.

Enjoy!

The Retreat...

Thank you for remembering us over the weekend. Special thanks to those of you who chose to join us in fasting and talking to Father on Saturday. We had a great time of refreshing and unifying together in preparation for all that lies ahead. The next few months will be busy ones. We started moving my supervisors in yesterday. Ends up I'll be moving in the next couple weeks. I also have to make a short visit to Kenya. Lots of things are in the works. I will try to do better at sharing with you more often.

In our time together as a team I was thinking about you. I was thinking about how 150+ of my team lives on the other side of the world. It has been great for us to be back together here, but you guys will likely only ever be together in spirit. I would like to offer you the opportunity to have a glimpse of some of those you are partnered with as you lift us up. Many of you check in here frequently but many others don't. If you are willing add a comment to this blog.

Let this info be your comment so that others know a bit about you. 1. First Name 2. City and/or State and/or Country of Residence 3. Where you met me (i.e. Falmouth, Georgetown, Baylor, Waco, Paducah, High School, Family, etc.) 4. How long we have known one another.

Don't feel pressure to do this. It is only to give you an idea of who is joined with you, and to give me an idea of who is reading this journal. Be "safe" with responses.

Thank you for your commitment!!

Language Favorites...

So, I have been a huge slacker when it comes to journaling. I apologize for disappearing. One day I will either stop disappearing or just stop apologizing for it. You should have recently received a newsletter. If you didn't a few things might be the cause: 1. Somehow I have not put you on the list. 2. Email glitch. 3. The newsletter is getting put in your junk or bulk mailbox.

If you didn't receive the update and would like to please send me an email and I will try to get it out to you. Also, if you had trouble reading the information let me know. You may be receiving it in a format that your email program can't handle.

A couple updates. My supervisors have found a house and will be moving in next week we hope. Ryan had surgery on Wednesday morning in Louisville. I have not yet received an update to know how it went. I almost called my family this morning, and then I realized it was 1:30am their time and that likely wouldn't have made Dad real happy. We begin our retreat at 2 this afternoon. That is your 6am your time, if you are in central time.

For sometime I have been intending to share with you some information about language but haven't yet done it. As you probably are aware I have stopped full time language study. Even though I don't spend multiple hours a day focusing on learning language I am still learning language. I am doing my best to have short conversations with everyone that I can. I still only have a very small understanding of the language. I do have a few favorite sayings though. I have gotten miles out of the shock and often laughter these bring from listeners.

They are amazed that a foreigner is learning their language so they usually compliment me with the word "gobez." (Please excuse the gross transliterations, as there is no way to truly transition the language from their writing to English print.) "Gobez" means clever. I quickly respond that I am not that clever and I don't know much of their language by saying, "Gobez idelum. Amarinia bedemb, menager alchelem." It is a bit of an oxymoronic sentence in that it is a very formal way to say I don't speak Amharic very well. It would be like an English learner saying, "Thank you for your compliment, but I dont deserve it because I still dont speak English very well, but I am learning." The more likely response would of course be, "English, no speak good."

They usually disagree and tell me I speak very well and blah, blah, blah. Then I like to say, "Cus bu cus..." It means little by little and comes from one of their proverbs. Together we finish the proverb with, "...enculal bigrew yihadal." They laugh with me and again compliment me as together we have said, "Little by little the egg walks by legs." They get a kick out of me caring about what they say and how they say it. I enjoy their enjoyment and enjoy getting a bit better with language everyday.

Now that I am out of fulltime study it is less like an assignment and more of a game. I hate to study but I love to play, so I think this time might help my language even more than the studying did.

Thank you for your continued faithfulness. Know it was a huge blessing to send out an email this past week to the 150+ that are joined with me in this journey of reaching the 60 to 70 million people of this nation for the truth. Pray hard!

A Day Finding a Park...

Yesterday was a great adventure. It was a coworker's birthday. She is here short term and still misses home sometimes so we wanted to make sure her birthday was incredible.

We decided to drive out to a national forest. (Didn't do the mountain thing I mentioned.) We didnt exactly know where the place was. We just started out in the direction we had been told to go. We had been told it was just before a certain road, but when we didn't see it there we kept going. Eventually we stopped to ask for help.

After about six times of asking for help we ended up on the right road. The directions never completely made sense, until we found the right place. Then what they had said fit together. The crazy thing is that if they didn't know where we were trying to go, they would never have said, "I don't know." They would have made up something. I still believe some of them may have done that. They gave something so broad it couldn't have been wrong. We were going to test this if we stopped once more. I was going to ask the way to Super Wal-Mart, just to see if we could get a response from them. We didn't have to stop again so we never asked.

Come to find out the park was much farther out of town than we expected. We drove for quite a while down some pretty rough roads before finally arriving. It was so wonderful though. The countryside is much different than the city here. And you only have to get 20 minutes or so outside the city to see it. The scenery is beautiful. The people are beautiful and funny. They don't see many cars down the dirt roads we were on. While we were still a ways off they would hear the engine. The children would come running to the road to ask for gifts.

Since they don't have cars and never will, the road is a walkway to them. They walk down the middle caring water jugs or sticks. They heard their sheep, goats, cows, and/or donkeys right down the middle of the road. It is crazy.

Once we finally arrived the park was so peaceful. We found what was called a waterfall (disappointing) and took pictures and sat for a while. It was so relaxing, so refreshing. We had a great morning and early afternoon of just chilling far from the horns, and smog, and cell phone service.

I love these occasional days away.

We finished off her birthday with dinner at her favorite restaurant. It is Arabic. Everyone sits on the floor and gets food from communal plates. We had great fish and shish kabobs. She was also surprised with flowers and a cake. I think we were at least somewhat successful at making it a great day for her.

Okay lunchtime

entrepreneurs and beggars...

There are two different types of people that make walking frustrating many days. Some are entrepreneurs. I have more respect for these people. They are selling things. The most common things are “soft” (Kleenex packets), ink pens, sunglasses, movies, music, and, gum. It also isn’t uncommon to see socks and belts on the same guys with sunglasses.

The other people are beggars. These people offer you nothing. Well that isn’t always true sometimes the children offer a song (Usually “This is the day.” The language changes.), and they may also offer you a “Mother, Father dead. I love you.” Some beggars have no choice. They are homeless children or young mothers or they are old men or women. They beg because they have no option for work.

Now don’t hear me making fun of either of these groups. I respect the sellers desire to at least do something for money, and the beggars break my heart for the most part.

One of the most frustrating parts is they look like lions on the prowl. I imagine that on a long day the lion doesn’t want to grab the biggest prey which will put up the greatest fight. He/she just wants a bite to eat. So the lion watches for a weak dinner to pass by. When it sees it, it pounces. Americans are viewed in a similar manner…rich suckers. I watch as I pass a mother and she sends her baby to chase the white guy. I see sellers cross a busy street risking life and limb to catch the white guy walking on the other side. It can be so frustrating. Sometimes I ask them why they came to me out of all these people. They rarely answer.

Many days you get repeats. I see some beggars almost daily. I’ve adopted two. There is an old lady on a side of town I go to some who has a small child with her. I give small change or a birr to them. There is an old man who begs down the street where I often catch taxis. Every few days he returns to me. Most days he leaves me alone, because he knows when I can I’ll give him a bit.

Today I had a repeat child. The child usually works a busy intersection selling “soft.” The child is about eight or ten (guessing) with a shaved head. When you look into the child’s face there is usually a slight runny nose and slightly crossed eyes. Today was the first day I realized the child was a girl, and it was only an assumption based on the fact the child had on a dress.

I passed her and an older boy today on the way to a taxi. The older boy sent her back towards me. She walked with me about a block trying to sell me her “soft.” I told her I didn’t want any and she continued to convince me I needed some. The package must have been dirty. She cleaned it…both sides. She pulled it up to her face licked the package and then dried it on the chest of her dress.

I got in the taxi and she continued working to convince me. Four other children joined her…these were just beggars. What to do here is hard. Nationals would tell me to shut the door on them and ignore them. I usually let them continue as long as they will because it doesn’t really hurt me any. Sometimes they get violent with them if I allow them to stay. A couple days ago I watched a man hit a girl and another kick her as she was hanging on a taxi asking me for money.

Many here give to beggars. They know how to tell a thief from one in need. When they aren’t going to give…they ignore them. They stare away as if the person isn’t really a person. It breaks my heart, but there must be some purpose in it. Maybe I’ll learn.