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