A friend has fallen. About six months ago his wife left him. Her family doesn’t like him much so they convinced her to leave the country. The two talk on the phone and email occasionally, but he is clearly a broken man. He isn’t even a shell of who I knew a few months ago. His fire is gone; his joy is gone; his passion is gone.
I confess I forgot him. I stood beside him at the airport the day she left. Then I disappeared into my own life. I got caught up in my stress and my own busyness. I can’t believe I left him, but I did. I regret that I left my friend in his time of need.
His mourning has caused him to make some bad decisions. He works with us at a center we have. He runs the place. I guess more appropriate is he ran the place. It came to our attention in the last couple weeks that he was possible making calls to his wife on our dime. Then we found out he might be stealing some money. We hoped and prayed we were wrong. We looked for any other option. It became clear there was none.
This week my boss, with the help of two colleagues, confronted the situation. Our prayer had become not that we were wrong but that it could be handled well. It happened. He confessed to everything immediately. He stood up as a broken man, but an honest one. He had integrity in confessing his wrong doing. He chose to resign from his position.
My boss drove our broken friend home and prayed with him and shared scripture with him. He told him he was loved. He demanded that he not flee from us. I hope we keep our friend. This type of shame usually runs people off. I hope God allows him to stay in our midst.
Remember my friend. Ask that his wife will come home. Ask that he will again discover who he is and who he has been created to become. Pray that he will cling to his faith and that it will bring him out of this place he resides in.
Friday, July 14, 2006
Tickets...
Monday I went to book tickets. It was a bit like booking tickets for a vacation though. I set up plans to see my parents and my sister in the countries they now live in. (Whit goes August 2nd.) I got those set. And even though that is when I’ll quit my work here it didn’t carry much finality. It makes the most sense for me to fly roundtrip from here. So I’ll be back on the night of September 27, for one day.
Then Tuesday morning the others showed up. Our business manager is booking my stateside tickets. My itinerary was in my inbox Tuesday morning. It was a bit tough. It carried plenty of finality and way to much weight. I haven’t quite been myself since. It hurts to think of leaving.
It is odd. I am ready. I’m ready for a new adventure. I’m ready for discovering what is next. I’m ready to find people I will spend the next stage of life with. But it also hurts to leave a place I love. I left my hometown when I graduated…it carried finality. I left my college town when I graduated…again it made sense. I left my grad school town when I finished. All of these are times that it makes sense to go on. Everything for me had finished there. Now of course I still had family when I left my hometown, but my responsibilities, etc. were over.
I leave here and things don’t end. The work continues; I just leave it. The lost are still lost and those being discipled are still I process. My team stays hard at work and September 8th looks just like September 7th for them. But for me it doesn’t. For me my time here ends but my life here continues.
I read a book once that said once you go to Africa it gets in your blood. You may hate it or you may love it; but it never goes away. It got in my blood in the summer of 2003. Now it is more than in my blood; it is like a piece of me that I will always carry. Physically leaving will be hard, but I’m ready. At the same time I’ll never leave this place. An even more amazing part is Africa didn’t stop with me. It got Mom and Dad; it got Whitney. I hope it isn’t done grabbing hold of my loved ones.
Then Tuesday morning the others showed up. Our business manager is booking my stateside tickets. My itinerary was in my inbox Tuesday morning. It was a bit tough. It carried plenty of finality and way to much weight. I haven’t quite been myself since. It hurts to think of leaving.
It is odd. I am ready. I’m ready for a new adventure. I’m ready for discovering what is next. I’m ready to find people I will spend the next stage of life with. But it also hurts to leave a place I love. I left my hometown when I graduated…it carried finality. I left my college town when I graduated…again it made sense. I left my grad school town when I finished. All of these are times that it makes sense to go on. Everything for me had finished there. Now of course I still had family when I left my hometown, but my responsibilities, etc. were over.
I leave here and things don’t end. The work continues; I just leave it. The lost are still lost and those being discipled are still I process. My team stays hard at work and September 8th looks just like September 7th for them. But for me it doesn’t. For me my time here ends but my life here continues.
I read a book once that said once you go to Africa it gets in your blood. You may hate it or you may love it; but it never goes away. It got in my blood in the summer of 2003. Now it is more than in my blood; it is like a piece of me that I will always carry. Physically leaving will be hard, but I’m ready. At the same time I’ll never leave this place. An even more amazing part is Africa didn’t stop with me. It got Mom and Dad; it got Whitney. I hope it isn’t done grabbing hold of my loved ones.
A Weekend Away...
Weeks are flying by. It is hard to believe they are going as quickly as they are. Last weekend we had a fun trip to the countryside. Fifteen of us went. I took two teams of volunteers, two colleagues and a national friend. The trip started a bit rough. We were a little worried about one of the vehicles because of a strange noise it had been making. We stopped to fill up just outside of town. As we left the gas station on of the cars stopped running. It sputtered to a stop and quit in the middle of the road.
We gathered together and pushed it off the street. We kept trying to start it with no luck. I couldn’t figure out what the problem was…then it hit me. “Did we put gas or diesel in this car?” This vehicle happens to be the only one we have that runs on gasoline. I got out the receipt and either it was written wrong or we got diesel.
Now I wasn’t driving this car but I know how difficult a process it is. At the station there are two pumps one says “Gasoil” the other says “Regular.” A majority of vehicles in the country are diesel, so which is regular? Well we goofed up. I called another colleague to ask what to do in the situation. He told me we would have to drain the tank and start again. We found another gas station that helped us through the process. We were now quite a bit behind schedule…good we were living in a place where that is not only accepted, but expected.
We finally got there and then all the hotels were full. Finally on our fifth attempt we found a place to stay. It was exactly what we had hoped for. There are very distinct calibers of hotels in this country. This was exactly “middle of the road” and about $10 per night. The only flaw, lots of mosquitoes, but they had nets so it was fine.
It really was a great weekend. I’ve put some pics on the side. Enjoy!
We gathered together and pushed it off the street. We kept trying to start it with no luck. I couldn’t figure out what the problem was…then it hit me. “Did we put gas or diesel in this car?” This vehicle happens to be the only one we have that runs on gasoline. I got out the receipt and either it was written wrong or we got diesel.
Now I wasn’t driving this car but I know how difficult a process it is. At the station there are two pumps one says “Gasoil” the other says “Regular.” A majority of vehicles in the country are diesel, so which is regular? Well we goofed up. I called another colleague to ask what to do in the situation. He told me we would have to drain the tank and start again. We found another gas station that helped us through the process. We were now quite a bit behind schedule…good we were living in a place where that is not only accepted, but expected.
We finally got there and then all the hotels were full. Finally on our fifth attempt we found a place to stay. It was exactly what we had hoped for. There are very distinct calibers of hotels in this country. This was exactly “middle of the road” and about $10 per night. The only flaw, lots of mosquitoes, but they had nets so it was fine.
It really was a great weekend. I’ve put some pics on the side. Enjoy!
Friday, July 07, 2006
Good Days and Bad...
Been a while, I know.
So much has been going on. My bosses stayed gone for almost six weeks. I was swamped with trying to handle my work and some of theirs. But I really enjoyed it. I was able to really lead out on some things. I was probably most satisfied with my work during those weeks than any other time since I’ve been here.
We currently have 21 volunteers here working with us. Two will leave next week. Five more come just afterwards. Then by the first week of August they are all gone. So much great work is happening. They are pouring their lives into the nationals here. Great relationships are being built and nurtured. The volunteers are also a lot of fun. It has been very encouraging having them around. It will be hard to see them all go.
Speaking of going…I’ve got right about two months left here. It is crazy. I’m filled with mixed emotions. I’m ready to go and find out what is next in life. But it is also tough to leave this place. I love this place and these people. I am knee deep in so much work. It is hard to leave it behind. I know I have to trust the king to handle all that remains. “He” is able!
It was just a week ago although it seems like much longer. I had a day that will go down as a least favorite. I was in the car with 7 volunteers. We were going up the hill to a mountain that overlooks the city. In route, we had some trouble. A lot of people were on the street as always. Out of the corner of my eye I saw two children pop out from in front of a parked car in front of me. I jerked the wheel quickly to the left. They never even saw me.
Less than a second later I heard a thud. “Did we just hit something?” was the question asked from someone with me. “Yeah, two kids,” I responded. I was wrong. It was only one. He had not seen me and walked right into the side of my moving van. The police came and we took the boy to see a doctor. The doctor told me he was fine and gave me an antibiotic to fight infection. He had a big not above his left eye, but no other problems. His sister was with him and thankfully was fine.
It wasn’t one of my favorite days to say the least. I do however rejoice that everyone was okay!
Gotta go to the grocery. My houseworker is trying to make me some lasagna and cookies. She needs some stuff.
So much has been going on. My bosses stayed gone for almost six weeks. I was swamped with trying to handle my work and some of theirs. But I really enjoyed it. I was able to really lead out on some things. I was probably most satisfied with my work during those weeks than any other time since I’ve been here.
We currently have 21 volunteers here working with us. Two will leave next week. Five more come just afterwards. Then by the first week of August they are all gone. So much great work is happening. They are pouring their lives into the nationals here. Great relationships are being built and nurtured. The volunteers are also a lot of fun. It has been very encouraging having them around. It will be hard to see them all go.
Speaking of going…I’ve got right about two months left here. It is crazy. I’m filled with mixed emotions. I’m ready to go and find out what is next in life. But it is also tough to leave this place. I love this place and these people. I am knee deep in so much work. It is hard to leave it behind. I know I have to trust the king to handle all that remains. “He” is able!
It was just a week ago although it seems like much longer. I had a day that will go down as a least favorite. I was in the car with 7 volunteers. We were going up the hill to a mountain that overlooks the city. In route, we had some trouble. A lot of people were on the street as always. Out of the corner of my eye I saw two children pop out from in front of a parked car in front of me. I jerked the wheel quickly to the left. They never even saw me.
Less than a second later I heard a thud. “Did we just hit something?” was the question asked from someone with me. “Yeah, two kids,” I responded. I was wrong. It was only one. He had not seen me and walked right into the side of my moving van. The police came and we took the boy to see a doctor. The doctor told me he was fine and gave me an antibiotic to fight infection. He had a big not above his left eye, but no other problems. His sister was with him and thankfully was fine.
It wasn’t one of my favorite days to say the least. I do however rejoice that everyone was okay!
Gotta go to the grocery. My houseworker is trying to make me some lasagna and cookies. She needs some stuff.
Saturday, June 03, 2006
Volunteer Team and Seeds...
Our first team of volunteers has arrived and we are now knee deep in getting them ready to teach next week. We picked them up at 1am Friday morning. We slept for a few hours then hit it hard Friday. We have a full day again today.
Remember my colleagues and I as we get them oriented and acclimated to this new place. Remember the students as they prepare to teach classes. They will all be teaching at colleges here in the city. It will be a great chance for us to build new relationships and sow the seed broadly.
Last night some of our team and the volunteers met before the throne together. We talked about a chapter of Matt. The story of the sower is their goal. The story warns us some will listen and some won’t. Some will respond and join the family, others will drift away. But the farmer did nothing wrong. He threw the seed everywhere he could. Let’s ask for some good soil!
I go back to the airport Tuesday at 1am to get two more. Remember their travel.
Remember my colleagues and I as we get them oriented and acclimated to this new place. Remember the students as they prepare to teach classes. They will all be teaching at colleges here in the city. It will be a great chance for us to build new relationships and sow the seed broadly.
Last night some of our team and the volunteers met before the throne together. We talked about a chapter of Matt. The story of the sower is their goal. The story warns us some will listen and some won’t. Some will respond and join the family, others will drift away. But the farmer did nothing wrong. He threw the seed everywhere he could. Let’s ask for some good soil!
I go back to the airport Tuesday at 1am to get two more. Remember their travel.
Monday, May 15, 2006
Airport Runs...
Monday (one year anniversary of the elections) went fine. There was no trouble that I have heard of. I was out some and didn’t see anything that looked different than normal. We are thankful that all went well and all are safe.
Tuesday will be my first telling of a story at our group. Ask that I remember the story. Ask that the truth is evident. Ask that a community forms among the group as we gather together. Ask that fruit will come from these meetings.
I realized something tonight. During the summer months we go from airport run to airport run. I’ll be there 6 times or so in the next two weeks. My first was Saturday; my second was tonight. I will go back and forth, picking people up and dropping others off. This is the beginning of the end. It will only seem like tomorrow and it will be my time to stay at the airport.
The thought is full of anticipation and nervousness. I love this place I love these people. I have built wonderful relationships with nationals and expats. And as you know at one time I wasn’t sure that would ever happen. It will be tough to leave. But at the same time I am excited to see what the next step of my journey holds. Who will I spend time with? What will I do? The future will tell.
Ask that I will finish the time here strong. Ask that great things will happen with the time left. Ask for guidance as I prepare for the future.
Also tonight there will be two people sleeping in my house. Eventually before I leave there will be only me. A week and a half from tonight, there will be seven. Ask for patience. Ask for wisdom as I again learn to live with new people. Ask for grace as we learn to deal with each others shortcomings.
Tuesday will be my first telling of a story at our group. Ask that I remember the story. Ask that the truth is evident. Ask that a community forms among the group as we gather together. Ask that fruit will come from these meetings.
I realized something tonight. During the summer months we go from airport run to airport run. I’ll be there 6 times or so in the next two weeks. My first was Saturday; my second was tonight. I will go back and forth, picking people up and dropping others off. This is the beginning of the end. It will only seem like tomorrow and it will be my time to stay at the airport.
The thought is full of anticipation and nervousness. I love this place I love these people. I have built wonderful relationships with nationals and expats. And as you know at one time I wasn’t sure that would ever happen. It will be tough to leave. But at the same time I am excited to see what the next step of my journey holds. Who will I spend time with? What will I do? The future will tell.
Ask that I will finish the time here strong. Ask that great things will happen with the time left. Ask for guidance as I prepare for the future.
Also tonight there will be two people sleeping in my house. Eventually before I leave there will be only me. A week and a half from tonight, there will be seven. Ask for patience. Ask for wisdom as I again learn to live with new people. Ask for grace as we learn to deal with each others shortcomings.
Sunday, May 14, 2006
Elections...
Tomorrow (Monday) is a big day here. It is one year from the elections that began the chaos of the last year. There was once a time when a riot in this country stayed on CNN.com for a couple days. Now it is gone only a few hours after being posted.
In the last year we have seen numerous riots, city shut downs, and bombings. Riots often involve several killings and unbelievable numbers of arrests (both deserved and undeserved). The bombs have killed a few and the last several have begun to target local transport. Someone is trying to kill innocents. No one has claimed responsibility or given any reason for the bombings. City shut downs hurts the people. When people can’t work they can’t provide for their families. I think they forget this part when they try to do protests by not going to work.
Join me in asking that tomorrow will be peaceful. Ask that the people here will begin to find solutions for the disagreements.
In the last year we have seen numerous riots, city shut downs, and bombings. Riots often involve several killings and unbelievable numbers of arrests (both deserved and undeserved). The bombs have killed a few and the last several have begun to target local transport. Someone is trying to kill innocents. No one has claimed responsibility or given any reason for the bombings. City shut downs hurts the people. When people can’t work they can’t provide for their families. I think they forget this part when they try to do protests by not going to work.
Join me in asking that tomorrow will be peaceful. Ask that the people here will begin to find solutions for the disagreements.
Saturday, May 13, 2006
News...
I want to share some news with you. One item is personal and the other has to do with the city here. If any of you keep up with international news you know we have seen some trouble in recent days. Problems have been going on in the city for over a year. They started because of disagreements with the most recent election.
In the last couple months protests have turned to bombings. We have no idea who is responsible for the bombings, although lots of accusations are being thrown out. Apparently yesterday there were at least 8 bombs killing a few and injuring more. I am fine as are my friends and colleagues. We know however that this place is a ticking bomb all together. People aren’t happy and they have no way to deal with it appropriately. Please ask for peace in this city and safety for those of us here.
On a personal note, I am currently making plans to conclude my time here around the first week of September. Thank you for those who have continued to seek wisdom with me. I believe it has been made clear to this point that I am to make preparations to go. This is not set in stone. I still want to be open to his leading and may decide to stay and continue work here, but I don’t anticipate that at the moment.
Currently I am planning to go see my Mom and Dad and Whitney before heading back across the pond. Once I get back I have no idea what will follow. I’ll continue to seek his wisdom.
I also want you to know I was able to start a story group last week. We started 2 different ones last week. I hope to start another soon. We meet weekly to share and discuss a story from the scripture. This is a huge thing as it is a large part of our strategy. My group is an interesting one made of both family members and those yet to join us. Ask for wisdom as I tread the waters in between the two perspectives. (We also have three different religions represented.)
In the last couple months protests have turned to bombings. We have no idea who is responsible for the bombings, although lots of accusations are being thrown out. Apparently yesterday there were at least 8 bombs killing a few and injuring more. I am fine as are my friends and colleagues. We know however that this place is a ticking bomb all together. People aren’t happy and they have no way to deal with it appropriately. Please ask for peace in this city and safety for those of us here.
On a personal note, I am currently making plans to conclude my time here around the first week of September. Thank you for those who have continued to seek wisdom with me. I believe it has been made clear to this point that I am to make preparations to go. This is not set in stone. I still want to be open to his leading and may decide to stay and continue work here, but I don’t anticipate that at the moment.
Currently I am planning to go see my Mom and Dad and Whitney before heading back across the pond. Once I get back I have no idea what will follow. I’ll continue to seek his wisdom.
I also want you to know I was able to start a story group last week. We started 2 different ones last week. I hope to start another soon. We meet weekly to share and discuss a story from the scripture. This is a huge thing as it is a large part of our strategy. My group is an interesting one made of both family members and those yet to join us. Ask for wisdom as I tread the waters in between the two perspectives. (We also have three different religions represented.)
Sunday, May 07, 2006
Wedding, etc....
Last week I was able to go to a friends wedding. I put some pictures on the right. (Hope you know you can click on a picture and see an entire slideshow.) It was a good time with Teddy and his new wife Fasika.
They married five couples at the same time. There was lots of dancing and singing. Two priests spoke. I had no idea what was being said, but I did the best I could to take lots of pictures. When I hit the States I’ll have to let someone go through and pick the good ones out of the thousands I’ve kept.
It was interesting how different it was than the wedding I was just at in the States. There were a lot of similarities, but a distinct difference put in place by the differing cultures.
Teddy and Fasika did something really cool at the end. They went down to a covered walk at the end. Under this walkway were seated the super poor of the community. Teddy, Fasika, and their wedding party went along and gave a meal to them. It was very interesting to watch these who clearly had nothing wait for a plate of food. It made me wonder what that would look like in the States. Could Mark and Missy have walked right out on the street in Houston and shared some of the meal we at with the poor who would gather on the streets?
It made me think a lot about my own wedding. Of course I have to get a few things in line before that happens, like a real job, I probably should own a couple things, oh yeah I need to find a girl. But I wondered what would it look like to intentionally take the favorite things from my culture and my favorite things from this culture and blend them? Maybe we’ll find a way to invite the poor to the celebration. Seems to me it would be in line with what the master would do.
Things to remember:
Thanks. Sorry this is such a different format than normal. I don’t receive the satisfaction I once did from writing on this thing. Hopefully I will find some stories to share soon. A few of you keep coming and I want to honor that.
They married five couples at the same time. There was lots of dancing and singing. Two priests spoke. I had no idea what was being said, but I did the best I could to take lots of pictures. When I hit the States I’ll have to let someone go through and pick the good ones out of the thousands I’ve kept.
It was interesting how different it was than the wedding I was just at in the States. There were a lot of similarities, but a distinct difference put in place by the differing cultures.
Teddy and Fasika did something really cool at the end. They went down to a covered walk at the end. Under this walkway were seated the super poor of the community. Teddy, Fasika, and their wedding party went along and gave a meal to them. It was very interesting to watch these who clearly had nothing wait for a plate of food. It made me wonder what that would look like in the States. Could Mark and Missy have walked right out on the street in Houston and shared some of the meal we at with the poor who would gather on the streets?
It made me think a lot about my own wedding. Of course I have to get a few things in line before that happens, like a real job, I probably should own a couple things, oh yeah I need to find a girl. But I wondered what would it look like to intentionally take the favorite things from my culture and my favorite things from this culture and blend them? Maybe we’ll find a way to invite the poor to the celebration. Seems to me it would be in line with what the master would do.
Things to remember:
- Still trying to make a decision regarding staying here another year.
- My sister is headed to Tanzania. She will begin orientation May 30, two days after Mom and Dad fly out.
- They have found my grandfather has cancer. They are doing tests to find the damage and come up with ways to fight it.
- I’ve been talking for a while about story groups here. Two will start this week. I will lead one, while a colleague leads another. I hope to start a second shortly after this one.
Thanks. Sorry this is such a different format than normal. I don’t receive the satisfaction I once did from writing on this thing. Hopefully I will find some stories to share soon. A few of you keep coming and I want to honor that.
Tuesday, April 25, 2006
Great Couple Months...
Friends,
I’m still alive and well, but I have had quite a crazy last month and a half (or so since I last posted). Let me give you the bullet point version.
So much more has happened, but these are some highlights. It has been a great couple months. The time in the States was more than I could have ever hoped for. I have some pretty big decisions to make regarding whether or not I’ll stick around here another year. Help me lift this up as I seek out wisdom.
I’m still alive and well, but I have had quite a crazy last month and a half (or so since I last posted). Let me give you the bullet point version.
- Still not finished with court regarding the car wreck.
- Been on 12 airplanes.
- Eaten at: Outback (twice), McDonald’s (twice), TGIFridays, Chili’s, Arby’s, Chick-fil-a, McAlister’s, Sonic, Wendy’s, Denny’s, and others.
- Been to Best Buy about 15 times. During which: I learned to price match, bought 3 palm pilots (returned 2), bought two cameras, bought West Wing Season 5, bought memory cards, and thumb drives. (Rest assured this wasn’t all mine. Me and my credit card aren’t friends right now, but the credit card company loves me.) (Also decided to check out: Circuit City, the Apple Store, Office Max, CompUSA, Staples, and Office Depot.)
- Saw my family. Saw my best friends.
- Played Lazer Tag.
- Rented a tux.
- Drove someone else’s rental car.
- Was in a wedding.
- Learned to two-step. Okay not really, but I tried.
- Remembered that Americans actually stop at stop signs.
- Went to the dentist. (Looks like I might have some beginnings of TMJ.)
- Had 102-103 degree temperature for an entire day.
- Gave a stool sample. (Nothing found.)
- Discussed a new job description with my boss.
- Praying over staying in Africa an extra year.
- Finished a couple books.
- Lost three roommates.
- Remembered how cool high-speed (especially wireless) internet is.
- Saw the pyramids.
- Talked to some old friends on the phone.
So much more has happened, but these are some highlights. It has been a great couple months. The time in the States was more than I could have ever hoped for. I have some pretty big decisions to make regarding whether or not I’ll stick around here another year. Help me lift this up as I seek out wisdom.
Monday, March 06, 2006
Pain in the Neck Day...
Twice in one week is way too much for me. Friday will go down as another of my not so favorite days here. I’ve been working hard trying to replace all of the documents and things that were stolen when my bag was stolen. The driver’s license was about two days of work. The passport was about a half a day. The visa has been a bear. I spent all of last Wednesday working on it and at the end of the day I had made no progress.
Thursday was a holiday, so I returned Friday to finish the job. It again took all day. I went to one police department who had to write me a letter requesting that they right a letter to another police department. Strange I know. I drove across town to the second just in time for them to close for lunch.
After lunch I went back and we fought about the letter for a bit. I told them I needed one for immigration they told me I needed one for foreign affairs. They wrote one for the foreign affairs office. I had to pay for them to write the letter. Just finding the place to pay was an adventure. The man I had been working with told me to go pay. “Where do I pay?” I asked him. He gave a strange pointing sign and said up. Now this isn’t a multistory building. It is a large compound with several one and two story buildings on it. Up meant to head up a slight grade to another building. After searching for some time I ended up finding it. I had to weave through a couple buildings and then go behind one to find the door. Inside the building was dark with a few signs in their language and all the doors closed. It was strange indeed.
From here I went to foreign affairs where they wrote a letter to the embassy for a new passport. I told the girl I already had a passport and now needed a new visa. “Then why are you here?” she asked. “Because they sent me here.” “We have nothing to do with that, go back and tell them to write a letter to immigration.”
This time I bossed the police around a bit more and finally got the right letter. I went to immigration to jump through their hoops again. All was going well until I had to pay. They wanted 20 US dollars. I don’t carry dollars; I live here. Why don’t they take their own money? So I left quickly to go cash some birr for dollars. I pulled out onto the road and then something happened. I couldn’t figure out what it was.
I had pulled from a drive on the left to the far right side of traffic and stopped for a second or two at a stoplight. Now all of the sudden my car was rolling and I couldn’t get it to stop. After a second or two I realized I had been hit. I realized my foot slipped of the brake and I wasn’t stopping because I was on the gas pedal now. I had been rear ended by a taxi that is a small truck with a topper on the back.
Police came sort of. Actually once my friend came to help me we had to drive to the opposite side of town to pick up a police officer and bring him back. Somehow through 6 or 7 hours with police, clear lies by the taxi driver (He claimed I hit him because there were scratches down the side of my vehicle.), discussions with several officers, among other things, they decided it was my fault. I didn’t hit him they decided, didn’t matter that he lied about that. Instead I didn’t have enough time to pull out and should have left priority for the taxi.
It was a rough day. Looks like I’ll have to go to court soon as I am still unwilling to take blame for the accident. If I don’t take the blame we’ll be stuck in this for perhaps six months. If I do it’s over. Higher ups are deciding what we want to do in light of the big picture.
On the bright side, I got my visa finished. Went to pick it up yesterday but forgot my receipt. Will return today and can now legally be here for 30 days.
Thursday was a holiday, so I returned Friday to finish the job. It again took all day. I went to one police department who had to write me a letter requesting that they right a letter to another police department. Strange I know. I drove across town to the second just in time for them to close for lunch.
After lunch I went back and we fought about the letter for a bit. I told them I needed one for immigration they told me I needed one for foreign affairs. They wrote one for the foreign affairs office. I had to pay for them to write the letter. Just finding the place to pay was an adventure. The man I had been working with told me to go pay. “Where do I pay?” I asked him. He gave a strange pointing sign and said up. Now this isn’t a multistory building. It is a large compound with several one and two story buildings on it. Up meant to head up a slight grade to another building. After searching for some time I ended up finding it. I had to weave through a couple buildings and then go behind one to find the door. Inside the building was dark with a few signs in their language and all the doors closed. It was strange indeed.
From here I went to foreign affairs where they wrote a letter to the embassy for a new passport. I told the girl I already had a passport and now needed a new visa. “Then why are you here?” she asked. “Because they sent me here.” “We have nothing to do with that, go back and tell them to write a letter to immigration.”
This time I bossed the police around a bit more and finally got the right letter. I went to immigration to jump through their hoops again. All was going well until I had to pay. They wanted 20 US dollars. I don’t carry dollars; I live here. Why don’t they take their own money? So I left quickly to go cash some birr for dollars. I pulled out onto the road and then something happened. I couldn’t figure out what it was.
I had pulled from a drive on the left to the far right side of traffic and stopped for a second or two at a stoplight. Now all of the sudden my car was rolling and I couldn’t get it to stop. After a second or two I realized I had been hit. I realized my foot slipped of the brake and I wasn’t stopping because I was on the gas pedal now. I had been rear ended by a taxi that is a small truck with a topper on the back.
Police came sort of. Actually once my friend came to help me we had to drive to the opposite side of town to pick up a police officer and bring him back. Somehow through 6 or 7 hours with police, clear lies by the taxi driver (He claimed I hit him because there were scratches down the side of my vehicle.), discussions with several officers, among other things, they decided it was my fault. I didn’t hit him they decided, didn’t matter that he lied about that. Instead I didn’t have enough time to pull out and should have left priority for the taxi.
It was a rough day. Looks like I’ll have to go to court soon as I am still unwilling to take blame for the accident. If I don’t take the blame we’ll be stuck in this for perhaps six months. If I do it’s over. Higher ups are deciding what we want to do in light of the big picture.
On the bright side, I got my visa finished. Went to pick it up yesterday but forgot my receipt. Will return today and can now legally be here for 30 days.
Thursday, March 02, 2006
Thanks...
Thanks for lifting up yesterday. It wasn’t a great day, but it didn’t go as poorly as anticipated. I didn’t get in any trouble, but then again, I didn’t make any progress. After multiple offices in three different buildings in three locations of the city, I’ll start again tomorrow. Today was a holiday so everything was closed.
Tuesday, February 28, 2006
Fender Bender...
So I had my first car wreck. Wreck might be a bit of an overstatement though. I’m not sure there were enough broken bones for it to be an all out wreck. Bit of a joke there…chill Mom. No broken bones. I just got the front end of the van clipped by a taxi driver.
Let me explain the van. My work vehicle looks like it is about 6,000 years old. It has two rows of bench seats in the back. The last two have been removed and lost. It has dents and scratches and bits of blue paint left on it. It is nicknamed the Silver Bullet. It must be 20 feet long and James and I often claim it should be driven off a steep cliff.
I fixed the radio. I still don’t get stations. There are actually only two here, but the antenna has been broken off. I can however listen to my iPod with a tape adapter. It’s been a good car. Been hit a few times and it’s pretty ugly but I’m glad I have something.
So Saturday we are on the way to lunch. I’m driving through a busy section of the city (near Bone Hill for those who have been here). I notice a taxi driver to the right isn’t paying much attention. I think, “He might hit me.” He did. Never even looked. Put a huge dent in his front door, but only a small scratch on the Bullet. We both decided to let it go and drove on. But we stayed close. He kept looking out his window checking the damage to his car (he had no concern for mine). This didn’t help his driving might I add.
Eventually he looked to me and pointed at the door implying, “Look what you did to my car.” I pointed for him to pull over and quickly moved from the far left lane to the shoulder. He followed.
Now understand that in this culture if a disagreement happens the one that yells the loudest is most often right. He knows it, the other person knows it, and the onlookers know it. I chewed that driver for a few minutes. He wanted me to do something about his car. I told him I was sorry but he hit me. Therefore he should pay me (knew this would never happen).
One of his riders spoke English. She spoke up and I asked her in English, “Didn’t he hit me?” She agreed but didn’t respond when I said, “So he should have to pay me right?” The driver wanted money from me. If I had hit him, everyone would have demanded it. Since he hit me, I’m supposed to move on and let it happen. I did, but not without letting them know I could fight with them in their language and I didn’t like being treated this way.
I told the man we were finished and go away. He kept talking and I walked away. We went from there to have some pretty good burgers at a relatively new place called The Texas BBQ. Not quite the same, but pretty good eats.
Tomorrow is a big day. I have to go to a government office for some papers. We are scared it might go poorly. I’ve been told a fine is likely and arrest or being kicked out of the country isn’t out of the question. Remember me in the morning.
Let me explain the van. My work vehicle looks like it is about 6,000 years old. It has two rows of bench seats in the back. The last two have been removed and lost. It has dents and scratches and bits of blue paint left on it. It is nicknamed the Silver Bullet. It must be 20 feet long and James and I often claim it should be driven off a steep cliff.
I fixed the radio. I still don’t get stations. There are actually only two here, but the antenna has been broken off. I can however listen to my iPod with a tape adapter. It’s been a good car. Been hit a few times and it’s pretty ugly but I’m glad I have something.
So Saturday we are on the way to lunch. I’m driving through a busy section of the city (near Bone Hill for those who have been here). I notice a taxi driver to the right isn’t paying much attention. I think, “He might hit me.” He did. Never even looked. Put a huge dent in his front door, but only a small scratch on the Bullet. We both decided to let it go and drove on. But we stayed close. He kept looking out his window checking the damage to his car (he had no concern for mine). This didn’t help his driving might I add.
Eventually he looked to me and pointed at the door implying, “Look what you did to my car.” I pointed for him to pull over and quickly moved from the far left lane to the shoulder. He followed.
Now understand that in this culture if a disagreement happens the one that yells the loudest is most often right. He knows it, the other person knows it, and the onlookers know it. I chewed that driver for a few minutes. He wanted me to do something about his car. I told him I was sorry but he hit me. Therefore he should pay me (knew this would never happen).
One of his riders spoke English. She spoke up and I asked her in English, “Didn’t he hit me?” She agreed but didn’t respond when I said, “So he should have to pay me right?” The driver wanted money from me. If I had hit him, everyone would have demanded it. Since he hit me, I’m supposed to move on and let it happen. I did, but not without letting them know I could fight with them in their language and I didn’t like being treated this way.
I told the man we were finished and go away. He kept talking and I walked away. We went from there to have some pretty good burgers at a relatively new place called The Texas BBQ. Not quite the same, but pretty good eats.
Tomorrow is a big day. I have to go to a government office for some papers. We are scared it might go poorly. I’ve been told a fine is likely and arrest or being kicked out of the country isn’t out of the question. Remember me in the morning.
Thursday, February 16, 2006
Returning...
I’m not sure what happened that I lost interest in writing. But it happened. I’m hoping to regain interest. I’m hoping to be able to watch with an eye that desires to retell the story. So much has gone on lately. But more and more the time here becomes less amazing and more normal. For your sake and mine I need to return to writing. I need to share stories. I need to watch life go by as I live it. I need to love every minute and seek to retell the story. I’m trying.
The prayer day was such a blessing. I have sent out some more emails to those of you who emailed about joining us. I want to hear your stories of the day. We want to share those with others you don’t know so that you can see the union that took place on that day. We started at my house. We spent several hours here before stepping out into the city and praying for people in the places we were praying for: an Orthodox church, mosques, the ERC, a mountain that overlooks the city. The day was moving. I’m not good at praying for extended periods like that. I’m really not a good at praying in any fashion. But that day was inspiring. It gave me a burning desire to spend more days doing nothing more than approaching the throne on behalf of the 5 million or so that live here.
The house has changed a lot lately. In the last month I have gone from living alone, to living with six, to four, to six again. Two more will join us Friday, but we’ll also lose two on that day. It is stretching. Life looks so much different when the house is full of people. It demands I be more flexible. It demands I move past my own wants and desires. It is a great teacher.
One of my current roommates has stolen my heart. Her name is Olivia. That is actually her new name. She has only had it for about three days now. Before that her name was Ababa – flower. (A day or two before meeting her I had thought about naming a kid that. I think I like the name Samantha Ababa. But I would want to call her Sam. So maybe I should name another kid Ababa and call her Abby.) Olivia is about 2 ½. Her new daddy came to pick her up. He needed a place to stay and ended up with us. She is absolutely beautiful. Everyday I tell him, and her, that it is completely okay for him to leave her with me. He already has five kids does he really need another? She is beautiful. One day I will have a couple. I want to have some kids and adopt some kids. I want to give a home to those who don’t have that privilege.
Great progress being made on the maps, although we are at a bit of a standstill. It is important to have a vehicle while I map. I have to get into some pretty shady spots. Taxis would never go on these roads, and I’m to fat and old to walk the all. Continue to ask for progress.
No water since yesterday. It is starting to stink in this house. I’m hoping it will return today.
I don’t have a visa to be here at the moment. The stolen one has proven quite difficult to replace. Pray with me as we seek to resolve this issue.
I’ll try to get some stories out soon.
The prayer day was such a blessing. I have sent out some more emails to those of you who emailed about joining us. I want to hear your stories of the day. We want to share those with others you don’t know so that you can see the union that took place on that day. We started at my house. We spent several hours here before stepping out into the city and praying for people in the places we were praying for: an Orthodox church, mosques, the ERC, a mountain that overlooks the city. The day was moving. I’m not good at praying for extended periods like that. I’m really not a good at praying in any fashion. But that day was inspiring. It gave me a burning desire to spend more days doing nothing more than approaching the throne on behalf of the 5 million or so that live here.
The house has changed a lot lately. In the last month I have gone from living alone, to living with six, to four, to six again. Two more will join us Friday, but we’ll also lose two on that day. It is stretching. Life looks so much different when the house is full of people. It demands I be more flexible. It demands I move past my own wants and desires. It is a great teacher.
One of my current roommates has stolen my heart. Her name is Olivia. That is actually her new name. She has only had it for about three days now. Before that her name was Ababa – flower. (A day or two before meeting her I had thought about naming a kid that. I think I like the name Samantha Ababa. But I would want to call her Sam. So maybe I should name another kid Ababa and call her Abby.) Olivia is about 2 ½. Her new daddy came to pick her up. He needed a place to stay and ended up with us. She is absolutely beautiful. Everyday I tell him, and her, that it is completely okay for him to leave her with me. He already has five kids does he really need another? She is beautiful. One day I will have a couple. I want to have some kids and adopt some kids. I want to give a home to those who don’t have that privilege.
Great progress being made on the maps, although we are at a bit of a standstill. It is important to have a vehicle while I map. I have to get into some pretty shady spots. Taxis would never go on these roads, and I’m to fat and old to walk the all. Continue to ask for progress.
No water since yesterday. It is starting to stink in this house. I’m hoping it will return today.
I don’t have a visa to be here at the moment. The stolen one has proven quite difficult to replace. Pray with me as we seek to resolve this issue.
I’ll try to get some stories out soon.
Sunday, February 12, 2006
Quick Note...
The prayer day was such a blessing. Sorry I haven’t shared any details. I have meant to all week but keep getting busy. I will try and share that with you and other info in a day or two. I will be out of the city for the night but back on Monday.
Thursday, January 26, 2006
February 3...
On February 3 we are having a special worldwide day of prayer for the city I live in. You should have received and email about this. If not, let me know. We are preparing a guide to help participants through the eight hours. Love to have you personally or your group join us.
Wednesday, January 25, 2006
Vacation and the Days Surrounding...
Sorry about another disappearing act. The days before, after, and during vacation have been quite busy.
In December I realized it was time for a break. I had reached what they call culture fatigue. I was tired and upset always. I wanted to bodyslam nationals. I new I had to get away. I looked at a few options and decided the best was to go and spend a week or so with some close friends living near Paris.
For ten days or so I saw tourist sites, went to movies, ate at American chains, and hung out. I only spoke the language of here when I couldn't communicate in French. That was actually more than would be expected. I had a great time. It was a good break. My prayer was answered...by the end of my time there I was ready to get home.
I returned to fall into full speed mode. I left two days after arriving for a two day drive north. I got there spent a day and flew home. On returning home again I dove into work. The first day mapping will go down as a least favorite day here. My van was broken into and about $1500 of stuff was taken. My camera was taken, my Palm Pilot, some money, and a few other things. My national coworker and I were so disappointed. He also had his coat taken.
We decided to go and report it to the police. It is sad that that might not have been the best choice. Once the police are involved the chance of it being returned by the taker's choice is unlikely. Often they will ransom back to you things they can't do anything with. Once the police join in, it won't happen. However the police seemed to believe they might find the thief. I tend to doubt it. I also have no assurance that if they found them they wouldn't just split the booty. Police aren't highly trusted here and with due cause.
The next two days were spent trying to get my passport and local driver's license replaced. The passport was relatively easy. It had its share of local bureaucracy tied in too. I got the needed forms online. Then I found out I had the wrong ones, plus they didn't print well. They gave me two new forms to fill out. One of those was wrong, so I started again. Eventually I paid and had everything filled out. They told me they needed a police report. I told them that I had filled one out but the police had told me I couldn't have a report without an official request from them. They looked confused and told me to get one. I pleaded my case again. They wouldn't give it to me yesterday; they won't today. It is an hour away from here. It is in a language that is no good to the US Consular. I eventually convinced them.
Then I began with the license. They did want the report and gave me the appropriate paper work to get it. Do you know your license number? Not the plate number, that one is shorter, the one in your pocket. Me either on either license. I had to get them to look my number up...easier than I expected. I took the form to the exact opposite side of the city...it was about a 45 minute drive around the "bypass." It took over an hour for them to fill out their part. Correction...it took about 30 minutes to find out who should fill it out in what office.
I started where I had been the day before. He led me to the second floor. Then we went back to the first. Then back to the second before we actually got started. From there I was in four different offices and two of those more than once. It was too late to return to the other side of the city so I waited until the next day.
The next morning I tried to go early to beat the rush...too late. I started the process. Office 1...office 2...office 1. I had an abrupt stop at this point. Apparently they had given me the wrong number the day before. She sent me to office 3. They said the number was actually correct and back to 2. She again disagreed and took me back to 3. After finding the computer must be wrong they looked in these massive books they keep. It was in fact wrong. The solution...take a new paper to the police. "You are joking," I told her. Nope! I started across town with the new one. This time we were friends. Many jumped to my defense. They cut me in line; they demanded I shouldn't have to pay again. In the end it took about 20 minutes and I did in fact have to pay again.
I returned to the other office. I got there about 11:15. At 11:40 they told me I could come back after lunch. I argued that I had already been there three times...two today. Sorry. I went and got lunch. I came back early and continued. Office 4...office 1...office 4...office 2...office 4...office 2...office 5...office 6. Finally I was done; new license in hand. What a way to live.
Now I'm trying to get back in the swing of normalcy. Except this is the season of volunteers. The first got here last week. We will go through many more before I finish here in August or so. I love having people here though.
I'll try to do better about writing in the days ahead. Thanks for continuing to come back even when there is nothing here.
In December I realized it was time for a break. I had reached what they call culture fatigue. I was tired and upset always. I wanted to bodyslam nationals. I new I had to get away. I looked at a few options and decided the best was to go and spend a week or so with some close friends living near Paris.
For ten days or so I saw tourist sites, went to movies, ate at American chains, and hung out. I only spoke the language of here when I couldn't communicate in French. That was actually more than would be expected. I had a great time. It was a good break. My prayer was answered...by the end of my time there I was ready to get home.
I returned to fall into full speed mode. I left two days after arriving for a two day drive north. I got there spent a day and flew home. On returning home again I dove into work. The first day mapping will go down as a least favorite day here. My van was broken into and about $1500 of stuff was taken. My camera was taken, my Palm Pilot, some money, and a few other things. My national coworker and I were so disappointed. He also had his coat taken.
We decided to go and report it to the police. It is sad that that might not have been the best choice. Once the police are involved the chance of it being returned by the taker's choice is unlikely. Often they will ransom back to you things they can't do anything with. Once the police join in, it won't happen. However the police seemed to believe they might find the thief. I tend to doubt it. I also have no assurance that if they found them they wouldn't just split the booty. Police aren't highly trusted here and with due cause.
The next two days were spent trying to get my passport and local driver's license replaced. The passport was relatively easy. It had its share of local bureaucracy tied in too. I got the needed forms online. Then I found out I had the wrong ones, plus they didn't print well. They gave me two new forms to fill out. One of those was wrong, so I started again. Eventually I paid and had everything filled out. They told me they needed a police report. I told them that I had filled one out but the police had told me I couldn't have a report without an official request from them. They looked confused and told me to get one. I pleaded my case again. They wouldn't give it to me yesterday; they won't today. It is an hour away from here. It is in a language that is no good to the US Consular. I eventually convinced them.
Then I began with the license. They did want the report and gave me the appropriate paper work to get it. Do you know your license number? Not the plate number, that one is shorter, the one in your pocket. Me either on either license. I had to get them to look my number up...easier than I expected. I took the form to the exact opposite side of the city...it was about a 45 minute drive around the "bypass." It took over an hour for them to fill out their part. Correction...it took about 30 minutes to find out who should fill it out in what office.
I started where I had been the day before. He led me to the second floor. Then we went back to the first. Then back to the second before we actually got started. From there I was in four different offices and two of those more than once. It was too late to return to the other side of the city so I waited until the next day.
The next morning I tried to go early to beat the rush...too late. I started the process. Office 1...office 2...office 1. I had an abrupt stop at this point. Apparently they had given me the wrong number the day before. She sent me to office 3. They said the number was actually correct and back to 2. She again disagreed and took me back to 3. After finding the computer must be wrong they looked in these massive books they keep. It was in fact wrong. The solution...take a new paper to the police. "You are joking," I told her. Nope! I started across town with the new one. This time we were friends. Many jumped to my defense. They cut me in line; they demanded I shouldn't have to pay again. In the end it took about 20 minutes and I did in fact have to pay again.
I returned to the other office. I got there about 11:15. At 11:40 they told me I could come back after lunch. I argued that I had already been there three times...two today. Sorry. I went and got lunch. I came back early and continued. Office 4...office 1...office 4...office 2...office 4...office 2...office 5...office 6. Finally I was done; new license in hand. What a way to live.
Now I'm trying to get back in the swing of normalcy. Except this is the season of volunteers. The first got here last week. We will go through many more before I finish here in August or so. I love having people here though.
I'll try to do better about writing in the days ahead. Thanks for continuing to come back even when there is nothing here.
Monday, December 12, 2005
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…”
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…”
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.
