I left Zambia yesterday and I'm headed to Tokyo, Japan. I had layovers in Jo-berg and Hong Kong and I'm now in the final leg (Hong Kong, China --> Tokyo, Japan). Experiencing some turbulence at the moment, which isn't helping my handwriting that is only marginal to begin with.
I woke up yesterday with a heavy heart since it was immediately on my mind that I had to head to the airport and leave the beautiful, peaceful, lazy, trauma stricken, impoverished, happy, simple people of Zambia (sounds like a contradiction, but I'm not sure that it is). Some parts of Zambia I love and other parts drive me crazy, and the same goes to the people. I love Medryn, her music, and her heart. I love the orphans in Murundu who are so starved for love and attention that they follow me around like I'm the pied piper and shyly hold up their hands for me to take. I love the girls at Pamodzi and Chibote High Schools who have lost parents, aunts, siblings, etc to HIV and Malaria, who have suffered from severe physical, sexual and emotional abuse for most of their lives... yet they still find reason to smile, forgive, and to love G'd and "random" muzungus who find their way to these schools. I love dancing at church and not worrying about what anyone is thinking... I hate the men who molest their own family members, rape babies, and openly cheat on their wives. I hate the greed over money and the corruption that results from it. I hate watching funeral processions and driving by piles of fresh graves. I hate the witchcraft, demon possession, and of course the devil and his cronies... I love Dr Thinus for looking Africa and all its problems squarely in the eyes and continuing to have the courage and hope to do his part -- day after day and year after year -- to bring transformation. I'm proud of my fellow STSers for "being the change that they want to see in the world." I'm also both humbled and blessed to be able to do my part.
Africa has taught me a lot. It hurts to care, and the more I care the more I hurt. I think that lots of people don't want to see or hear about the harder things in life -- because if they know then they might have to care... and if they care the might have to do something about it. And doing something about it might disrupt our cushy, comfortable lives. I think that I prefer to have my life diverge away from "normal" as long as that is what G'd has in mind for me.
Dan was sitting in the van driving home from Kitwe last week and watching the African landscape go by out the window. While he was contemplating some of the heavy issues we have dealt with and the people we have been working with, it occurred him to give it up to G'd. Otherwise the burden is too much. So I think that we need to walk the line -- to care and do our part, but leave the end result to G'd.
I'm curious to see where the next few years will take us. I'm excited about the prospect of starting a small orphanage... I wish so much that Debbie was alive to see it happen because I know she would fall for those kids. I long to see her and to do life alongside her the way we used to. But I'm slowly learning to quit constantly asking "Why?", to seek God's face for the sake of finding HIM instead of to get something in return, and to conform my will to His instead of hoping that the reverse will happen. I have a loooonnnngg way to go.
To all of the prayer warriors: twa totella sana, sana. Lesa amupaule. (If you don't know what that means then you should come to Zambia sometime... or just send me an email and I'll give you the translation :-) ). Keep up the good work!!!!
Monday, June 11, 2007
Sunday, June 10, 2007
6/10 Final Blog from Kristen
"And then there were two," Jess says to me as we walk out of the Ndola airport. Two. Two muzungos, two days left, too many times to the airport having to say goodbye, too much on our minds. Too.
We climb back in the van and start in the general direction of Mufulira, bouncing along with the great enthusiasm that a 1982, eight-passenger Chevy without front shocks affords. Images of mud-brick huts painted yellows and reds, with their thatched roofs and dirt floors, bob along beside us, out behind us. Women walk with water on their heads and babies on their backs, half-naked children play in the dust that will become mud in four months time. Scrawny goats scatter the road in front of us. Dr. Thinus talks of African history. It's almost here.
I've already said farewell to most of us - we've been trickling out since last Wednesday - and I've felt it in pieces, building brick-by-brick like one of those thousands of mud huts. Goodbye. Yesterday was Jeremy and George and Dan and Abbie and Carol and Elizabeth. Old and new friendship, partnership, put on pause. Brick, brick, brick. Today, Tannen, my best friend in the entire world, (I can say that definitively) leaving for yet another continent. I already feel the emptiness left by her absence. I already miss her sensible advice, loyal companionship, and the witty comments that she whispers too quietly for most people to hear. Brick, brick. This is the process. Only a few more bricks to go, and then I'll be up and gone, weightless and away from this beloved, sprawling spread of yellow-dry grassland, scattered lakes, tangled jungle, and tortured wasteland.
Goodbyes are a strange thing. You leave something, or something leaves you, and we call this a goodbye. In these moments I always find myself wondering who will do the most missing... the one who leaves or the one who is left. At the many junctures in my life when I've had to change schools, or churches, states, or countries, I've always had the feeling that I was doing the majority of the missing. That the place I left behind, the people, would go on. I would be remembered perhaps, but remembered is entirely different from missed.
This time, though, the goodbye does not seem that way. Maybe it's that I'm doing the sending off before being sent off. Maybe it's because I've been here before and I know I'll return again. Or it could simply be that I'm too sentimental and indulging of my own silly feelings. But it seems to me, that life will not go on here as it always has - that our presence made enough of an impact that our absence will be mourned when we are gone. And likewise, we will not go on as we always have - something has been planted by this time in Zambia, something within us that will take root and become more than a memory.
We leave for Lusaka tomorrow morning: Dr. Thinus, Jess and I. Tuesday these Americans will leave the African soil, and the South African Zambian will return to life as usual, without us. But I feel assurance. Ties will not be broken, new truths will not be forgotten, partnerships will remain - despite economic, racial, and geographical distance.
And that feeling - the knowing that neither side will be the same, that there has been an equal exchange of learning and gratitude, and that until rejoined, both will regard the other - that is a good bye. It is the positive parting that assures us all: This hole created with your leaving will remain waiting for your return.
Kristen
We climb back in the van and start in the general direction of Mufulira, bouncing along with the great enthusiasm that a 1982, eight-passenger Chevy without front shocks affords. Images of mud-brick huts painted yellows and reds, with their thatched roofs and dirt floors, bob along beside us, out behind us. Women walk with water on their heads and babies on their backs, half-naked children play in the dust that will become mud in four months time. Scrawny goats scatter the road in front of us. Dr. Thinus talks of African history. It's almost here.
I've already said farewell to most of us - we've been trickling out since last Wednesday - and I've felt it in pieces, building brick-by-brick like one of those thousands of mud huts. Goodbye. Yesterday was Jeremy and George and Dan and Abbie and Carol and Elizabeth. Old and new friendship, partnership, put on pause. Brick, brick, brick. Today, Tannen, my best friend in the entire world, (I can say that definitively) leaving for yet another continent. I already feel the emptiness left by her absence. I already miss her sensible advice, loyal companionship, and the witty comments that she whispers too quietly for most people to hear. Brick, brick. This is the process. Only a few more bricks to go, and then I'll be up and gone, weightless and away from this beloved, sprawling spread of yellow-dry grassland, scattered lakes, tangled jungle, and tortured wasteland.
Goodbyes are a strange thing. You leave something, or something leaves you, and we call this a goodbye. In these moments I always find myself wondering who will do the most missing... the one who leaves or the one who is left. At the many junctures in my life when I've had to change schools, or churches, states, or countries, I've always had the feeling that I was doing the majority of the missing. That the place I left behind, the people, would go on. I would be remembered perhaps, but remembered is entirely different from missed.
This time, though, the goodbye does not seem that way. Maybe it's that I'm doing the sending off before being sent off. Maybe it's because I've been here before and I know I'll return again. Or it could simply be that I'm too sentimental and indulging of my own silly feelings. But it seems to me, that life will not go on here as it always has - that our presence made enough of an impact that our absence will be mourned when we are gone. And likewise, we will not go on as we always have - something has been planted by this time in Zambia, something within us that will take root and become more than a memory.
We leave for Lusaka tomorrow morning: Dr. Thinus, Jess and I. Tuesday these Americans will leave the African soil, and the South African Zambian will return to life as usual, without us. But I feel assurance. Ties will not be broken, new truths will not be forgotten, partnerships will remain - despite economic, racial, and geographical distance.
And that feeling - the knowing that neither side will be the same, that there has been an equal exchange of learning and gratitude, and that until rejoined, both will regard the other - that is a good bye. It is the positive parting that assures us all: This hole created with your leaving will remain waiting for your return.
Kristen
Friday, June 8, 2007
6/8 Update from Kristen - Trauma Program
Victory Over Trauma by Rebecca K.
Oh yes I am a child without a mother,
My mother died and my father got married to another woman.
Oh yes I am a child without a mother.
When I tell her mum, mum give me money for school
She says No! No! No!
Go to the grave and dig up your mother
And she will give you money.
Oh yes I am a child without a mother.
This was a poem submitted to us by a girl from Chibote Girl's High School.
Today. Thursday. Our last day of real work at Chibote. Carol spoke about forgiveness. Her testimony was truly amazing to witness - she connected in a very real way with everyone who as there. Our entire STS team has been watching God working in Carol's life for the last four weeks, and this was the culmination. First, let me tell you a few things about Carol. Carol is a sit-curled-up-on-the-couch-write-in-her-journal-for-hours kind of girl. She's beautiful, blunt, wildly creative, and fabulously funny. She has pink toenails and a very real handle on what it means to reach out to the unreachable. To love like Jesus. Her life and her character are a testament to the grace of God. Her journey has been long, and what an amazing gift to have been there to see her stand and speak today. Today she has broken her silence at last. And her voice is beautiful.
Kristen
Oh yes I am a child without a mother,
My mother died and my father got married to another woman.
Oh yes I am a child without a mother.
When I tell her mum, mum give me money for school
She says No! No! No!
Go to the grave and dig up your mother
And she will give you money.
Oh yes I am a child without a mother.
This was a poem submitted to us by a girl from Chibote Girl's High School.
Today. Thursday. Our last day of real work at Chibote. Carol spoke about forgiveness. Her testimony was truly amazing to witness - she connected in a very real way with everyone who as there. Our entire STS team has been watching God working in Carol's life for the last four weeks, and this was the culmination. First, let me tell you a few things about Carol. Carol is a sit-curled-up-on-the-couch-write-in-her-journal-for-hours kind of girl. She's beautiful, blunt, wildly creative, and fabulously funny. She has pink toenails and a very real handle on what it means to reach out to the unreachable. To love like Jesus. Her life and her character are a testament to the grace of God. Her journey has been long, and what an amazing gift to have been there to see her stand and speak today. Today she has broken her silence at last. And her voice is beautiful.
Kristen
Thursday, June 7, 2007
6/7 Update from Megan - HIV Education Program
Hey all, it's Megan. As one of the resident STS engineers, I haven't blogged much, since we are not generally known for our textual finesse. But since I'm departing tomorrow, I've been honored with this grand opportunity to communicate with you all. So here goes. I'm leaving a day earlier than everyone else and staying overnight in Johannesburg with a friend of a friend of Dr T's. Because this is Africa, I was informed this morning by Dr T that I will be speaking to a group of South African women on Saturday morning - never miss an opportunity to recruit for the cause (though sleeping in would have been nice!). After that announcement, Carol, Abbie, and I headed over to the recording studio where Medrin (sp?) has been singing her heart out to create a CD for us. I never thought I would visit my first recording studio in Zambia. Wacky. It's out in the refurbished servant quarters behind a very nice house about 10 minutes from Dr T's. Zambia is such a strange mix of the old (crumbling roads and dilapidated buildings) and new (cell phones everywhere - though they're sold from streetside shacks). So why not a recording studio too?
We had a delicious lunch at the church planting school again today. It's funny, but after less than two weeks, I have stopped paying attention to the peeling paint and cracked walls, and can just appreciate the fact that I'm in the shade and enjoying delightful company.
The HIV team was back in Kitwe this afternoon for Dan's talk about Getting Tested and George followed with a talk about Abstinence. George's ability to keep the attention of a bunch of wild kids never ceases to amaze me. I'm glad we were able to visit both Murundu and Kitwe these two weeks that I've been here, because they are such a contrast. In Murundu, we had to have a translator for everything, but you felt like you were bringing information that the kids had genuinely never heard before. You're in a little village out on the border of the Congo, and your presence really is an event. In Kitwe, there is so much more affluence (if you can call it that) and they have a much better grasp of English. There is much more of an urban feel and the kids seem more savvy. One girl was actually willing to share her story about getting tested for HIV in my small group on Tuesday. I can't imagine any of the girls in Murundu being brave enough to face the stigma and share her story even if any of them had been tested before. The girls in Kitwe seem much more empowered.
I'm so grateful for this experience, especially for Dr T (regardless of whatever those crazy Irish people have to say), and for Oscar and Henry (our fantastic Zambian church planting team members). Even though things often go awry, and never happen like we plan them, there are a lot of people here who really do want to change the course of Zambia for the better. I have loved working with everyone here and have great hopes for the future.
Peace,
Megan
We had a delicious lunch at the church planting school again today. It's funny, but after less than two weeks, I have stopped paying attention to the peeling paint and cracked walls, and can just appreciate the fact that I'm in the shade and enjoying delightful company.
The HIV team was back in Kitwe this afternoon for Dan's talk about Getting Tested and George followed with a talk about Abstinence. George's ability to keep the attention of a bunch of wild kids never ceases to amaze me. I'm glad we were able to visit both Murundu and Kitwe these two weeks that I've been here, because they are such a contrast. In Murundu, we had to have a translator for everything, but you felt like you were bringing information that the kids had genuinely never heard before. You're in a little village out on the border of the Congo, and your presence really is an event. In Kitwe, there is so much more affluence (if you can call it that) and they have a much better grasp of English. There is much more of an urban feel and the kids seem more savvy. One girl was actually willing to share her story about getting tested for HIV in my small group on Tuesday. I can't imagine any of the girls in Murundu being brave enough to face the stigma and share her story even if any of them had been tested before. The girls in Kitwe seem much more empowered.
I'm so grateful for this experience, especially for Dr T (regardless of whatever those crazy Irish people have to say), and for Oscar and Henry (our fantastic Zambian church planting team members). Even though things often go awry, and never happen like we plan them, there are a lot of people here who really do want to change the course of Zambia for the better. I have loved working with everyone here and have great hopes for the future.
Peace,
Megan
6/6 Update from Carol - Trauma Program
Hey y'all,
It's Carol checking in.
Been a while huh. Well, today the trauma team went to Chibote yet again. Kristen and I combined small groups because the kids in my group are pretty mean, so it's easier to put them together. Today PJ (Pastor Jeremy) preached on eyes... You know the blind leading the blind and all that jazz. And we did this crazy skit where I was the blind person leading the blind person. So the funny part that I was the crazy partier, and I tried convincing everyone to come with me and have sex with my friend Henry (who's one of the Church Planting School students). Now if you know me you know how goofy I am, and you also know how obviously opposite that is for my lifestyle. So it ended up being really funny. I just kept interrupting Tannen and Kristen while they were praying, acting like a drunk person, and stumbling around trying to get them to come party. It was so much fun... not even kidding man!
Disclaimer to parents, fellow Christians, and anyone else reading these stupid blogs: I do not in any way condone drinking, drugs, or premarital sex. Thank you very much! :) Our STS team doesn't either, in case you didn't get that memo by now! :)
Moving on... Meydren couldn't come sing today because she's working on the praise and worship cd for STS, so we took Henry. Gotta love that Henry. I hope he and Meydren get married, and make some beautiful Zambian babies! So, while Henry was leading worship he told the girls to dance, and whoa dang. It's a WORSHIP song to GOD! And they're all out there shakin' their butts faster than the girls in a Puff Daddy video... Excuse me, " P.Diddy" is his new name I guess. So I crip walked and they all laughed. It's like they never knew a white girl could do not so white things. Hahaha.
Then the whole Murundo Orphanage deal came to a close this fine evening in June. The Irish people are in town and we met them today. Apparently our beloved Dr. T is as corrupt as they come, and we were given the shaft, the boot, the cane, they practically said "Hey don't let the door kick you on the way out!" Needless to say the Irish-folk are going to continue to pour God's money into the hands of corrupt Zambians, and there's nothing we can do about it... except PRAY! A LOT! Because at the end of the day, no matter how corrupt it is, the orphans are still not getting fed. They're still burying a kid every week or two. SAD.
I've come to a place where I now hate and love Africa. I hate the corruption, poverty and body odor that surrounds you. But some of the people are genuine. I had a talk with Dr T about taking Aziza (Shotty's daughter, she's three guys, and the cutest little Zambian ever), and Meydren home to the USA with me. Dr T pretty much sat me down and asked me how taking Zambian's best and brightest to America isn't going to help Zambia as a nation, or their economy. After that I got pretty convicted about talking about it. Being here for me is a big deal, but I get to go home, this IS their home.
Take of this what you will, I feel I've written too much already.
P.S. Tomorrow I am giving the talk on Forgiveness for our team. And I'll be sharing my testimony for the first time in full. PLEASE KEEP ME, AND ALL OF STS IN YOUR PRAYERS. I'm excited but insanely nervous. God's definitely going to be talking through me tomorrow.
Alright that's all for now.
This is Carol signing off... back to the Future! :)
It's Carol checking in.
Been a while huh. Well, today the trauma team went to Chibote yet again. Kristen and I combined small groups because the kids in my group are pretty mean, so it's easier to put them together. Today PJ (Pastor Jeremy) preached on eyes... You know the blind leading the blind and all that jazz. And we did this crazy skit where I was the blind person leading the blind person. So the funny part that I was the crazy partier, and I tried convincing everyone to come with me and have sex with my friend Henry (who's one of the Church Planting School students). Now if you know me you know how goofy I am, and you also know how obviously opposite that is for my lifestyle. So it ended up being really funny. I just kept interrupting Tannen and Kristen while they were praying, acting like a drunk person, and stumbling around trying to get them to come party. It was so much fun... not even kidding man!
Disclaimer to parents, fellow Christians, and anyone else reading these stupid blogs: I do not in any way condone drinking, drugs, or premarital sex. Thank you very much! :) Our STS team doesn't either, in case you didn't get that memo by now! :)
Moving on... Meydren couldn't come sing today because she's working on the praise and worship cd for STS, so we took Henry. Gotta love that Henry. I hope he and Meydren get married, and make some beautiful Zambian babies! So, while Henry was leading worship he told the girls to dance, and whoa dang. It's a WORSHIP song to GOD! And they're all out there shakin' their butts faster than the girls in a Puff Daddy video... Excuse me, " P.Diddy" is his new name I guess. So I crip walked and they all laughed. It's like they never knew a white girl could do not so white things. Hahaha.
Then the whole Murundo Orphanage deal came to a close this fine evening in June. The Irish people are in town and we met them today. Apparently our beloved Dr. T is as corrupt as they come, and we were given the shaft, the boot, the cane, they practically said "Hey don't let the door kick you on the way out!" Needless to say the Irish-folk are going to continue to pour God's money into the hands of corrupt Zambians, and there's nothing we can do about it... except PRAY! A LOT! Because at the end of the day, no matter how corrupt it is, the orphans are still not getting fed. They're still burying a kid every week or two. SAD.
I've come to a place where I now hate and love Africa. I hate the corruption, poverty and body odor that surrounds you. But some of the people are genuine. I had a talk with Dr T about taking Aziza (Shotty's daughter, she's three guys, and the cutest little Zambian ever), and Meydren home to the USA with me. Dr T pretty much sat me down and asked me how taking Zambian's best and brightest to America isn't going to help Zambia as a nation, or their economy. After that I got pretty convicted about talking about it. Being here for me is a big deal, but I get to go home, this IS their home.
Take of this what you will, I feel I've written too much already.
P.S. Tomorrow I am giving the talk on Forgiveness for our team. And I'll be sharing my testimony for the first time in full. PLEASE KEEP ME, AND ALL OF STS IN YOUR PRAYERS. I'm excited but insanely nervous. God's definitely going to be talking through me tomorrow.
Alright that's all for now.
This is Carol signing off... back to the Future! :)
Wednesday, June 6, 2007
6/6 Update from Elizabeth - HIV Education Program
Hi, folks!
Please allow me to tell you a little bit about what our team did on Wednesday. Unfortunately, Georgina/George stayed home all day with the Sea Monster. I think that the rest did him well, though, because he is up and in full swing today! The rest of us (Dan, Megan and myself) did not need to go to our high school in Kitwe (Mindolo High) because it was a teacher planning day. So, instead, we prayed about it and decided to spend the afternoon in Murundu just hanging out with the students and orphans. It was definitely the right decision....
God started working as soon as we stepped foot on the rickety minibus that was our public transportation. A young man sat across from us (a.k.a. on top of us!) and started up a conversation with us. Dan had been reading his Bible, and the guy (named Mark) started asking questions about our t-shirt motto "Be the change". The Holy Spirit stepped in and the conversation quickly turned spiritual. Dan forged ahead (in Dr. T. style!) and eventually led Mark in a prayer of salvation/rededication!!!! It was awesome to witness. Mark asked if we happened to have a Bible (although it was neat - he didn't ask for Dan's), and Dan rummaged around in his bag and found a Gideon New Testament that he had haphazardly thrown in there. God is so COOL!!!!
Our afternoon in Murundu was really fun. Dan rounded up a rather large baseball game that lasted around 3 hours, while Megan and I sat conversing with the girls. Sports are a universal language and it was great to again see the children running and laughing and getting along! For Megan and me, it was really neat to be able to successfully leap the communication barrier and share quality time with the girls. We answered and asked questions about our different cultures and then began to sing. Some of the orphan children remembered "Deep and Wide" (which we had taught the VBS kids the previous week) and they started to sing it to us! We had three high school girls with phenomenal voices (Naomi, Jacquelyn, Cynthia) who led out in some beautiful Gospel tunes - it was absolutely gorgeous!!! I am so glad that we received the opportunity to just relax and continue building relationships with the students and orphans of Murundu!
I've got to run now to teach at the pastor's college (please pray!), but I am thankful I got the chance to share about our day. God is awesome and it is so much fun for us to see His hand at work every single day. Lives are being changed because of your prayers, so please keep lifting us up. We are now feeling the "homestretch"... just a few more days until we all leave Zambia. For me, there is so much to do and so little time left. Please pray for peace and that we accomplish only that which is God's will. He will take care of the rest!
Have a great day!
Elizabeth
Please allow me to tell you a little bit about what our team did on Wednesday. Unfortunately, Georgina/George stayed home all day with the Sea Monster. I think that the rest did him well, though, because he is up and in full swing today! The rest of us (Dan, Megan and myself) did not need to go to our high school in Kitwe (Mindolo High) because it was a teacher planning day. So, instead, we prayed about it and decided to spend the afternoon in Murundu just hanging out with the students and orphans. It was definitely the right decision....
God started working as soon as we stepped foot on the rickety minibus that was our public transportation. A young man sat across from us (a.k.a. on top of us!) and started up a conversation with us. Dan had been reading his Bible, and the guy (named Mark) started asking questions about our t-shirt motto "Be the change". The Holy Spirit stepped in and the conversation quickly turned spiritual. Dan forged ahead (in Dr. T. style!) and eventually led Mark in a prayer of salvation/rededication!!!! It was awesome to witness. Mark asked if we happened to have a Bible (although it was neat - he didn't ask for Dan's), and Dan rummaged around in his bag and found a Gideon New Testament that he had haphazardly thrown in there. God is so COOL!!!!
Our afternoon in Murundu was really fun. Dan rounded up a rather large baseball game that lasted around 3 hours, while Megan and I sat conversing with the girls. Sports are a universal language and it was great to again see the children running and laughing and getting along! For Megan and me, it was really neat to be able to successfully leap the communication barrier and share quality time with the girls. We answered and asked questions about our different cultures and then began to sing. Some of the orphan children remembered "Deep and Wide" (which we had taught the VBS kids the previous week) and they started to sing it to us! We had three high school girls with phenomenal voices (Naomi, Jacquelyn, Cynthia) who led out in some beautiful Gospel tunes - it was absolutely gorgeous!!! I am so glad that we received the opportunity to just relax and continue building relationships with the students and orphans of Murundu!
I've got to run now to teach at the pastor's college (please pray!), but I am thankful I got the chance to share about our day. God is awesome and it is so much fun for us to see His hand at work every single day. Lives are being changed because of your prayers, so please keep lifting us up. We are now feeling the "homestretch"... just a few more days until we all leave Zambia. For me, there is so much to do and so little time left. Please pray for peace and that we accomplish only that which is God's will. He will take care of the rest!
Have a great day!
Elizabeth
Tuesday, June 5, 2007
6/5 Update from Jami - HIV Education Program
Today is my last day in Zambia for this year's trip. The day started off with a few of us walking into town to get chitenge dresses made for ourselves and our family. We ate lunch at the Church Planting School where Annie made the best nshima with chicken I've eaten!! We arrived in Kitwe at the Mindolo High School around 13:00 and unloaded our equipment and started to set-up for our presentation. We have a nice big hall that holds close to 1000 students. The energy in the hall was amazing. We started out with a funny skit to let the students know that we're crazy muzungus (white people). The Doctors Office skit was a hit and Georgina made her debut at the school. Georgina is going to be famous all over Zambia! The dance competition was outrageous. The student who won the competition was an amazing dancer. George and Elizabeth joined in the dance competition, the students got a kick out of it! I presented the material on Biology/ Transmission and the students seemed to be very interested and attentive for the most part. The highlight of the day was the small groups. The students (8th-12th grade) were asking lots of questions and talking freely about a lot of topics. It is exciting to see the students really thinking about the information, thinking about things they have heard and questioning the logic of myths about HIV/AIDS. My message for this year's trip was to get the students to know more than just facts, they need to have a deep understanding of the things we're telling them. They need to think about things and decide for themselves what choice they want to make with their lives. I hope that this was a mission accomplished. The only bad news of the day was that the school is letting out all the students tomorrow (Wednesday) since there is a teaching meeting all day. I think we've all become accustomed to plans changing with the wind, so our program will start-up again on Thursday. I have no doubts that the rest of this weeks program is going to great!
As we drove home, all packed into the back of the van, I looked out the window and saw the most beautiful sunset. The colors in the African sky at sunset can't be matched anywhere else in the world. I feel privileged to have been a part of this HIV/AIDS team. I can't say enough about all the people on the team, they are amazing. It's always sad to say goodbye to this place and all the people I've met here. Mufuliria, Zambia is really home! I've seen children grow and friends change into these amazing people. I look forward to seeing what happens next year.
As we drove home, all packed into the back of the van, I looked out the window and saw the most beautiful sunset. The colors in the African sky at sunset can't be matched anywhere else in the world. I feel privileged to have been a part of this HIV/AIDS team. I can't say enough about all the people on the team, they are amazing. It's always sad to say goodbye to this place and all the people I've met here. Mufuliria, Zambia is really home! I've seen children grow and friends change into these amazing people. I look forward to seeing what happens next year.
Monday, June 4, 2007
6/4 Update from George - HIV Education Program
Dear Bloggers,
I, George, will be bringing your blog to you this evening or morning or whenever you're reading this. We just got through with our planning meeting for this week's program. We are moving to a new school (in Kitwe!) and we are very excited about how the program looks. We learned a lot from last week and really feel that we can improve. We have also been focusing a lot more time on prayer and I know that will help.
Now it's time for a story. "The Sea Monster"
We are not exactly sure of the origins of the Sea Monster, but we now know that this monster is not a mythical creature. It is real and it has attacked us. We believe that it may have come from the kettle (coffee maker). But the origin is not important. What is important is that it is here.
The Sea Monster is an ugly creature. It loves to live in the stomach and the digestive system of missionaries living in Zambia. The Monster first appeared before I even arrived in Zambia but it has wrought its vengeance this week. It has jumped from person to person.
It loves to create a tossing, turning ocean in your stomach that eventually turns into a hurricane. It pounds against your intestines.
It churns. It creates gale force winds. Then it breaks over the flood walls and... well, let's just say that it's not good.
We believe the Monster is green but no one has actually seen it. We do know that it speaks through bubbling churning noises from your stomach, but before you children get too afraid, I must let you know that Sea Monster does not win. He comes and attacks, but then prayer and medicine meets him and destroys him. Health wins the battle! :)
The End
Seriously - Some of us (George, Kristen, Carol [?], Dan, Jess) have had a run in with this Sea Monster (that is really just the a.k.a. someone came up with). But I want you to know that most of the people on that list feel much better. Please continue to pray that the Monster does not attack anyone else. Pray for continued healing. Pray for power as we step out into a new school this week. Pray for strength as our days are often very tiring. Pray for this country. Pray for their people and their churches. I have seen God moving in amazing ways since I have been here. I am so blessed to be a part of this group and this ministry.
One more thing, please pray for the church plant school. This school was started by Dr. Thinus Van Dyk. This week Jeremy Swanson and myself, George, will be conducting a pastoral training at the school. Please pray for wisdom as we will be training 10 future pastors of Zambia.
Thanks!
George
I, George, will be bringing your blog to you this evening or morning or whenever you're reading this. We just got through with our planning meeting for this week's program. We are moving to a new school (in Kitwe!) and we are very excited about how the program looks. We learned a lot from last week and really feel that we can improve. We have also been focusing a lot more time on prayer and I know that will help.
Now it's time for a story. "The Sea Monster"
We are not exactly sure of the origins of the Sea Monster, but we now know that this monster is not a mythical creature. It is real and it has attacked us. We believe that it may have come from the kettle (coffee maker). But the origin is not important. What is important is that it is here.
The Sea Monster is an ugly creature. It loves to live in the stomach and the digestive system of missionaries living in Zambia. The Monster first appeared before I even arrived in Zambia but it has wrought its vengeance this week. It has jumped from person to person.
It loves to create a tossing, turning ocean in your stomach that eventually turns into a hurricane. It pounds against your intestines.
It churns. It creates gale force winds. Then it breaks over the flood walls and... well, let's just say that it's not good.
We believe the Monster is green but no one has actually seen it. We do know that it speaks through bubbling churning noises from your stomach, but before you children get too afraid, I must let you know that Sea Monster does not win. He comes and attacks, but then prayer and medicine meets him and destroys him. Health wins the battle! :)
The End
Seriously - Some of us (George, Kristen, Carol [?], Dan, Jess) have had a run in with this Sea Monster (that is really just the a.k.a. someone came up with). But I want you to know that most of the people on that list feel much better. Please continue to pray that the Monster does not attack anyone else. Pray for continued healing. Pray for power as we step out into a new school this week. Pray for strength as our days are often very tiring. Pray for this country. Pray for their people and their churches. I have seen God moving in amazing ways since I have been here. I am so blessed to be a part of this group and this ministry.
One more thing, please pray for the church plant school. This school was started by Dr. Thinus Van Dyk. This week Jeremy Swanson and myself, George, will be conducting a pastoral training at the school. Please pray for wisdom as we will be training 10 future pastors of Zambia.
Thanks!
George
Saturday, June 2, 2007
6/2 Update from Dan - HIV Education Program
This week at Mirundu Basic has continued to go very well... with a few hiccups along the way. We have pretty much decided there is no point in planning out an agenda because as soon as we get there... everything changes. This morning as we were about to leave, we got a phone call from the headmaster telling us that they were having a school wide mathematics exam this morning and we would not have them until 11:00... Oh Africa! So we enjoyed the morning at our own leisure... a variety of sipping instant coffee, reading, journaling, going over talks, sleeping in, or just being quiet reflecting on the weeks past.
Our plan was to take kids to get tested today... and with the late start we were just going to divide up the girls and boys and give them a quick talk about the importance of getting tested and the fears that come along with it. We told this to the headmaster and he was fine with it. As they gave the Getting Tested briefing, Jami and I took all the little 1-5th graders and played an African game similar to Sharks and Minnows without the water and substituting in Lions and Sheeps (its called Sheep, Sheep come on). It has been a staple when entertaining the little kids who wander into our talks to the older kids and distract everyone. So we take them out into the field to play this classic game. Unfortunately, it gets a bit violent as one must not only tag the sheep, but they must grab them and contain them. Well lets just say that when Mazungus (white people) are playing, we are pretty much the sole target. Well I forget that I am not in the best shape of my life, and by the end I was about ready to throw up all over the kids as I dodged and sprinted. As I was able to get away from them at the expense of my body and lungs, Jami was mauled time and time again by thirty to forty little Zambian girls with sharp fingernails... lets just say her arms look like they have been pawed by a pack of angry wildcats.
Meanwhile, the others are talking with the kids. To our surprise, we had about 50 kids who wanted to get tested... which was great. Also to out surprise, the headmaster pulls aside George and Henry and tells them that the kids need to talk to their parents before they get tested... which is not so great. So we have 50 kids ready to go find out the truth about their status, and we have to tell them to go back to their parents (if they even have parents) and come back on Monday. Lets just say that the news and my intense nausea formed the perfect formula for frustration... but such is working with people... especially those in Africa. Anyways, it will be better in the long run because we will have the work at this school carried on by a few of the church planters and we don't want to muddy the reputation of STS in the eyes of the parents... God continues to work all things out for the good... just not on our rigid Western timeline. Please pray that the delay and having to tell their parents will not deter the brave 50 who were willing to step up and take responsibility for the mistakes they have made. Pray that the extra time will allow for those on the fence (about getting tested) to see that it is a scary, but vital procedure. Pray that we may comfort them and point them to Christ. Pray that we will have enough tests. The testing could be an absolute disaster if God is not in it. Cover it in prayer.
The rest of the day went well, I regained consciousness and Jami dressed her wounds at lunch. We worked with the 5th and 6th graders in the afternoon. It was the last day with them, seeing as we are going to the Teacher's College tomorrow after lunch. From the small groups it seemed they have not quite hit the period where they are starting to experience sex, but over the next 2-3 years they are going to come into a time when they will have to make some serious choices... choices that at 15 and 16 will shape how their life turns out. The nurse believes that nearly 70% of the Mirundu village is HIV+... there are nearly 16,000 people living in mudhuts with no personal toilets (merely a hole in the ground covered by thatch walls), electricity, or running water. For many of the villagers, it is too late. But for these kids there is still hope. Please pray for them, especially for the next 2 - 5 years.
Finally, I just want to tell you a story. Dr. Thinus was driving today in Kitwe (a neighboring city). The street was blocked by a huge crowd of people walking down the road. The only time that you really see a group of this size walking in the streets are for funeral processions. I hate to say it, but funerals are a commonplace thing to see here in Zambia due to HIV/AIDS. As you drive out of town there is nearly a mile stretch of graves that line the road... ones that did not exist fifteen years ago. The grave markers merely state the name of the person and the dates of their birth and death... they read 10/5/97 or 5/17/01 or 2/23/05... the further you get from the town, the fresher the mounds of dirt until you can see a line of those which the dirt is still damp... coffin sales are big business in Africa. So Dr. Thinus, who has been working here for over a decade, was not surprised to see the procession of wandering men and weeping woman. As he drove through the crowd they parted for his vehicle until he nearly reached the front. There was no hearse, no special vehicle... merely a lone bicycle. On the bicycle laid a coffin not much larger than a shoebox... Oh my God... he could not finish the story as tears overcame him. When I heard this I left the kitchen and went to my room... I just wept for this place. I wept for the tragedy... for the pain that this continent bears. I hate this place...I hate Africa... I hate the death... I hate the tragedy... I hate the way it breaks me... I hate the way it empties me... I hate how it strips me and leaves me feeling so naked...
but...
...I love Africa... I love Africa because I know that God's heart breaks for it... I know God's heart burns for it... He refuses to forsake this place when the rest of the world turns their head... to spare themselves the pain or guilt or whatever... God continues to dirty his hands and, when death is constantly in your face, salvation becomes real... as I lay on my bed and wept, I prayed, begged, pleaded that salvation was real... that the innocence that was buried today would not decompose in a field outside of town, but that he would be set free... he would be spared the suffering of life lived on this earth...
As I lay there, through the window floated the sound of the laughter of children outside... it perfectly represented the paradox of Africa ... even in the midst of the sorrow... there is so much joy... so much beauty... so much life... maybe they have figured out something that we with our comfortable lives have overlooked... that maybe this world is not about living long, wealthy, painless lives, but that what is contained in this life is merely a shred of the joy that we will one day know... thank you for your prayers... please continue...
From Africa,
Dan
Our plan was to take kids to get tested today... and with the late start we were just going to divide up the girls and boys and give them a quick talk about the importance of getting tested and the fears that come along with it. We told this to the headmaster and he was fine with it. As they gave the Getting Tested briefing, Jami and I took all the little 1-5th graders and played an African game similar to Sharks and Minnows without the water and substituting in Lions and Sheeps (its called Sheep, Sheep come on). It has been a staple when entertaining the little kids who wander into our talks to the older kids and distract everyone. So we take them out into the field to play this classic game. Unfortunately, it gets a bit violent as one must not only tag the sheep, but they must grab them and contain them. Well lets just say that when Mazungus (white people) are playing, we are pretty much the sole target. Well I forget that I am not in the best shape of my life, and by the end I was about ready to throw up all over the kids as I dodged and sprinted. As I was able to get away from them at the expense of my body and lungs, Jami was mauled time and time again by thirty to forty little Zambian girls with sharp fingernails... lets just say her arms look like they have been pawed by a pack of angry wildcats.
Meanwhile, the others are talking with the kids. To our surprise, we had about 50 kids who wanted to get tested... which was great. Also to out surprise, the headmaster pulls aside George and Henry and tells them that the kids need to talk to their parents before they get tested... which is not so great. So we have 50 kids ready to go find out the truth about their status, and we have to tell them to go back to their parents (if they even have parents) and come back on Monday. Lets just say that the news and my intense nausea formed the perfect formula for frustration... but such is working with people... especially those in Africa. Anyways, it will be better in the long run because we will have the work at this school carried on by a few of the church planters and we don't want to muddy the reputation of STS in the eyes of the parents... God continues to work all things out for the good... just not on our rigid Western timeline. Please pray that the delay and having to tell their parents will not deter the brave 50 who were willing to step up and take responsibility for the mistakes they have made. Pray that the extra time will allow for those on the fence (about getting tested) to see that it is a scary, but vital procedure. Pray that we may comfort them and point them to Christ. Pray that we will have enough tests. The testing could be an absolute disaster if God is not in it. Cover it in prayer.
The rest of the day went well, I regained consciousness and Jami dressed her wounds at lunch. We worked with the 5th and 6th graders in the afternoon. It was the last day with them, seeing as we are going to the Teacher's College tomorrow after lunch. From the small groups it seemed they have not quite hit the period where they are starting to experience sex, but over the next 2-3 years they are going to come into a time when they will have to make some serious choices... choices that at 15 and 16 will shape how their life turns out. The nurse believes that nearly 70% of the Mirundu village is HIV+... there are nearly 16,000 people living in mudhuts with no personal toilets (merely a hole in the ground covered by thatch walls), electricity, or running water. For many of the villagers, it is too late. But for these kids there is still hope. Please pray for them, especially for the next 2 - 5 years.
Finally, I just want to tell you a story. Dr. Thinus was driving today in Kitwe (a neighboring city). The street was blocked by a huge crowd of people walking down the road. The only time that you really see a group of this size walking in the streets are for funeral processions. I hate to say it, but funerals are a commonplace thing to see here in Zambia due to HIV/AIDS. As you drive out of town there is nearly a mile stretch of graves that line the road... ones that did not exist fifteen years ago. The grave markers merely state the name of the person and the dates of their birth and death... they read 10/5/97 or 5/17/01 or 2/23/05... the further you get from the town, the fresher the mounds of dirt until you can see a line of those which the dirt is still damp... coffin sales are big business in Africa. So Dr. Thinus, who has been working here for over a decade, was not surprised to see the procession of wandering men and weeping woman. As he drove through the crowd they parted for his vehicle until he nearly reached the front. There was no hearse, no special vehicle... merely a lone bicycle. On the bicycle laid a coffin not much larger than a shoebox... Oh my God... he could not finish the story as tears overcame him. When I heard this I left the kitchen and went to my room... I just wept for this place. I wept for the tragedy... for the pain that this continent bears. I hate this place...I hate Africa... I hate the death... I hate the tragedy... I hate the way it breaks me... I hate the way it empties me... I hate how it strips me and leaves me feeling so naked...
but...
...I love Africa... I love Africa because I know that God's heart breaks for it... I know God's heart burns for it... He refuses to forsake this place when the rest of the world turns their head... to spare themselves the pain or guilt or whatever... God continues to dirty his hands and, when death is constantly in your face, salvation becomes real... as I lay on my bed and wept, I prayed, begged, pleaded that salvation was real... that the innocence that was buried today would not decompose in a field outside of town, but that he would be set free... he would be spared the suffering of life lived on this earth...
As I lay there, through the window floated the sound of the laughter of children outside... it perfectly represented the paradox of Africa ... even in the midst of the sorrow... there is so much joy... so much beauty... so much life... maybe they have figured out something that we with our comfortable lives have overlooked... that maybe this world is not about living long, wealthy, painless lives, but that what is contained in this life is merely a shred of the joy that we will one day know... thank you for your prayers... please continue...
From Africa,
Dan
Friday, June 1, 2007
6/1 Update from Carol - Trauma Program
Hey y'all...
It's Carol again. It's been a long day so far, and it's only six thirty at night here.
This is Africa I am about to talk about. In case you don't know how things work here... I'll learn yah something real quick. Africa, Zambia especially, has no sense of time. We walk into Chibote girls school every day not knowing if we'll have PA, not knowing if we'll even have kids to talk to when we get there.
With that in mind, I'll fill you in on how today went. It was hard. Especially for me.
God has broken me on this trip. Everything that could have been taken away has been. Tennessee Williams once said that "Surrender is like being in a burning building, no fire station to call, no ambulance, just the upstairs window to look out of while the house crumbles around you." That's how I feel right now at the end of this day, this week especially. I've given up everything, but it seems like it's still not enough. God always wants more. And I don't have more. There's nothing left. I'm spent.
We got to Chibote today and I set up the illustration. Some of the effects of trauma are written on these balls, and I put them in abucket, and when Tannen was talking about giving things up to God she posed the question, "How can you give this stuff up to God if it's still in your bucket?" She brilliantly used the illustration of Jeremy with explosive diarrhea sprinting towards the nearest toilet. She related it to when our hearts are like explosive diarrhea, and instead of sprinting to God we think it will just go away.
We split up into small groups, and my group of girls were almost completely unresponsive to everything I said. Nothing I did was right. I tried to open up first about a time when I was scared, and one or two people followed my example, but not one of the older kids would talk. They kept interrupting, then they all just picked me apart. I don't pray enough, I don't read the Bible enough, I don't open up enough, I don't talk enough, I'm not nice enough... Then that turned into them telling me that "The Bible says to give in order to receive, so I think you should give me your bag so I can remember you." Then it went from my bag to my necklace, to my bracelet, my watch, the shirt off my back. Everytime I said no they said I wasn't a good Christian because I'm not willing to share. That was like a huge punch in the face. Then they were all playing with my hair and they kept trying to tell me that I should shave it off, and leave it with them so that they can remember me. That really upset me, even though it's just hair, nothing would be enough for these girls. They got mean after that.
I got home tonight and was looking for my drawing pencils and I realized that I had them in the outermost pocket in my backpack... and they were missing. Not missing, but stolen. It's not about the stupid pencils, it's the principle of the matter... They don't respect me at all! It's the first time I've ever lead a group that just walked all over me with no emotion. I've lead a bunch of groups before, and I've always been able to find the right balance of letting it flow, and when to be stern. DANG....God this kind of sucks. Today was so amazing though, because one of the younger girls asked me to pray for her, and she told me about her home life, which made the whole day worth it in the end!
I don't know what tomorrow holds. I'm banking on God for that information. When God really talks to me, I always end up drawing. I am kind of attached to those pencils... but apparently they need them more than I do. I drew a picture today that shows the paradoxical differences between home life and Zambian life. Whenever God is involved it's paradoxical. I miss the ocean, and praying while I'm surfing. I don't like surfing with other people, mainly because surfing is when I feel the closest to God. And, it's so nice to be uninterrupted when you go alone. Maybe it is time to include others though.
That's enough deepness for one night.
This is Carol... signing off!
It's Carol again. It's been a long day so far, and it's only six thirty at night here.
This is Africa I am about to talk about. In case you don't know how things work here... I'll learn yah something real quick. Africa, Zambia especially, has no sense of time. We walk into Chibote girls school every day not knowing if we'll have PA, not knowing if we'll even have kids to talk to when we get there.
With that in mind, I'll fill you in on how today went. It was hard. Especially for me.
God has broken me on this trip. Everything that could have been taken away has been. Tennessee Williams once said that "Surrender is like being in a burning building, no fire station to call, no ambulance, just the upstairs window to look out of while the house crumbles around you." That's how I feel right now at the end of this day, this week especially. I've given up everything, but it seems like it's still not enough. God always wants more. And I don't have more. There's nothing left. I'm spent.
We got to Chibote today and I set up the illustration. Some of the effects of trauma are written on these balls, and I put them in abucket, and when Tannen was talking about giving things up to God she posed the question, "How can you give this stuff up to God if it's still in your bucket?" She brilliantly used the illustration of Jeremy with explosive diarrhea sprinting towards the nearest toilet. She related it to when our hearts are like explosive diarrhea, and instead of sprinting to God we think it will just go away.
We split up into small groups, and my group of girls were almost completely unresponsive to everything I said. Nothing I did was right. I tried to open up first about a time when I was scared, and one or two people followed my example, but not one of the older kids would talk. They kept interrupting, then they all just picked me apart. I don't pray enough, I don't read the Bible enough, I don't open up enough, I don't talk enough, I'm not nice enough... Then that turned into them telling me that "The Bible says to give in order to receive, so I think you should give me your bag so I can remember you." Then it went from my bag to my necklace, to my bracelet, my watch, the shirt off my back. Everytime I said no they said I wasn't a good Christian because I'm not willing to share. That was like a huge punch in the face. Then they were all playing with my hair and they kept trying to tell me that I should shave it off, and leave it with them so that they can remember me. That really upset me, even though it's just hair, nothing would be enough for these girls. They got mean after that.
I got home tonight and was looking for my drawing pencils and I realized that I had them in the outermost pocket in my backpack... and they were missing. Not missing, but stolen. It's not about the stupid pencils, it's the principle of the matter... They don't respect me at all! It's the first time I've ever lead a group that just walked all over me with no emotion. I've lead a bunch of groups before, and I've always been able to find the right balance of letting it flow, and when to be stern. DANG....God this kind of sucks. Today was so amazing though, because one of the younger girls asked me to pray for her, and she told me about her home life, which made the whole day worth it in the end!
I don't know what tomorrow holds. I'm banking on God for that information. When God really talks to me, I always end up drawing. I am kind of attached to those pencils... but apparently they need them more than I do. I drew a picture today that shows the paradoxical differences between home life and Zambian life. Whenever God is involved it's paradoxical. I miss the ocean, and praying while I'm surfing. I don't like surfing with other people, mainly because surfing is when I feel the closest to God. And, it's so nice to be uninterrupted when you go alone. Maybe it is time to include others though.
That's enough deepness for one night.
This is Carol... signing off!
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