Hi, family and friends!
We are safely in Zambia at long last! Actually, most of us (Dan,Elizabeth, Austin, Casie, Jesse, Megan, Angie) have been here for a few days, but we are having trouble with our phone lines, which is why we've been unable to communicate with you! Hopefully, we will be able to fix that problem tomorrow morning and be able to use both telephone and email at the house by tomorrow evening (Lord willing!). This is Africa! :)
Thankfully, everything else has been smooth and easy, as far as travel and luggage is concerned. Dr. T., Jim, Duane, Adam and Beth made it in this morning, and I am typing on behalf on the team from a friend's house in Kitwe. We will start our various programs bright and early tomorrow morning.
Please continue lifting us up in prayer and know that we are also praying for you! We cannot wait to share more in detail about the awesome things that the Lord is already doing in our team and in Zambia!
Happy and safe,
Elizabeth on behalf of the STS team
P.S. Thanks to all who have written...we cannot read your emails, because of our spotty internet connection. We promise to read and respond as soon as we are able!
Sunday, May 18, 2008
Saturday, May 17, 2008
STS Team arrived safely in Zambia!
The STS Team that departed on May 14th has arrived safely in Zambia. I don't think that they have internet and phone access at the house yet, but they should have it soon.
Dr. Thinus, Jim (my dad) and Duane Crumb are on their way from Lusaka last I heard. They may have even arrived in Mufulira by now.
~Tannen
Dr. Thinus, Jim (my dad) and Duane Crumb are on their way from Lusaka last I heard. They may have even arrived in Mufulira by now.
~Tannen
Tuesday, May 13, 2008
Update from South Africa
Just talked to my husband in South Africa. Joseph and Jim plan to have a mass Moringa Tree planting at Joseph's place. They have been discussing things at length and are both excited about their plans. They started 200 moringa seeds. Some are for Joseph and some are for the Village of Hope, an orphanage near Lusaka, Zambia. They scheduled a four hour workshop to teach about the Moringa Tree at the Village of Hope on Saturday morning. It is on the way to pick up Duane Crumb, so that will work out well.
Joseph and his wife have three children, pay for the education of 20 orphans and feed about 100 orphans that do not stay with him. Joseph has been studying Jim's Moringa Tree information during this time down time when they are stuck in SA. To obtain necessary funds for his projects, Joseph raises 600 chickens from two days old to 3 months and then takes them across the border to the Congo to sell. It is tougher now that the price of corn is heading up because mashed corn is the staple that the orphans and chickens eat every day. They will be adding the nutritious Moringa leaves to it. If a nice percent of the trees survive maybe Joseph can start selling Moringa!
Dr T has a friend who runs a Johannesburg airport shuttle service. He will take the larger STS team to Dawid Jordaan's house when they arrive in South Africa for the night. Some of the team knows Dawid and his wife. They are awesome.
The Chevy isn't fixed yet, but several solutions are in progress. Nothing to worry about for you all who will be arriving.
Karen VZ
Joseph and his wife have three children, pay for the education of 20 orphans and feed about 100 orphans that do not stay with him. Joseph has been studying Jim's Moringa Tree information during this time down time when they are stuck in SA. To obtain necessary funds for his projects, Joseph raises 600 chickens from two days old to 3 months and then takes them across the border to the Congo to sell. It is tougher now that the price of corn is heading up because mashed corn is the staple that the orphans and chickens eat every day. They will be adding the nutritious Moringa leaves to it. If a nice percent of the trees survive maybe Joseph can start selling Moringa!
Dr T has a friend who runs a Johannesburg airport shuttle service. He will take the larger STS team to Dawid Jordaan's house when they arrive in South Africa for the night. Some of the team knows Dawid and his wife. They are awesome.
The Chevy isn't fixed yet, but several solutions are in progress. Nothing to worry about for you all who will be arriving.
Karen VZ
Sunday, May 11, 2008
Cows in Botswana
Dr. Thinus, Joseph, and Jim (my dad) are back in Centurion, South Africa. Yes, they did leave on Friday morning and crossed over into Botswana by late Friday afternoon. It became dark and they were about 20 miles into Botswana when they hit a cow. The Land Rover is a wreck, but they walked away without a scratch. Dr Thinus hitch hiked back to South Africa to get help while Jim and Joseph stayed to guard the supplies. They used a flashlight to wave people around the injured cow.
Some of Dr T’s “spiritual sons” returned to Botswana with him to tow the Rover back across the border. It is now at a workshop in SA. Dr Thinus’ other vehicle is also at the workshop and they said that they hope to have it ready by Wednesday so that they can start driving again for Zambia in time to meet the rest of the team in Ndola on Friday.
Some of Dr T’s “spiritual sons” returned to Botswana with him to tow the Rover back across the border. It is now at a workshop in SA. Dr Thinus’ other vehicle is also at the workshop and they said that they hope to have it ready by Wednesday so that they can start driving again for Zambia in time to meet the rest of the team in Ndola on Friday.
Tannen
Monday, June 11, 2007
6/11 Tannen's Last African Journal Entry
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!!!!
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!!!!
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
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