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…”
Monday, December 12, 2005
Sunday, December 11, 2005
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.
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.
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.
Sunday, December 04, 2005
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.
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.
Saturday, December 03, 2005
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.
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.
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.
