Wednesday 29 August 2012
Jambo. Canada.
50 hours of travel and transit. Nearly 30 hours of airtime. New people while traveling. 3 delayed flights. Familiar faces. All a part of the journey back to Edmonton. I'm feeling quite drained even after a good night sleep last night, so my posting may lack a little luster but just wanted to send a quick update and hopefully something a little shinier to come!
Friday 24 August 2012
Last Days of Class Days.
Here I sit before my computer once again.
My classes and the tests for the students have all finished now,
yesterday I went through the exams, marking them and trying to figure out which students
had really learned well. For each of the tests I had a reading/writing portion as well as an oral part. I enjoyed individually 'interviewing' the first and second level students, however there were too many to test individually in the third level so the audio component was as a group. Below are the written portions for the each level.
I would just like to take an opportunity now to share some of my favorite exams answers with you from the different levels of classes.
Question 1: Can you give my directions to get to Nyawera Marker from Bethsaida Church?
1 student writes - Directions from Bethsaida Church to Nyawera Market is localised on right direction if your coming from Major Vayou to Nywarea Market at Mahungu Street behind at Mahungu La Voix.
--- I never got to Nyawera Market...
different student writes- Yes I can give you directions from Bethsaida Church to Nywarea Market.
---Classic
Question 2: Write 5 complete sentences of your own.
Student's sentences: I'm a Christian boy. I still be young. I don't need a wife right now. I need to go far with my studies. I just put my hope in God.
---I think he was preaching to me.
Question 3: If you had the opportunity to speak to a crowd of 10,000 people in Canada, what would you tell them?
Student 1: I could tell them not to forget our country, in sending us missionaries, and the good missionary like our teacher Andrew. And why not tell them about good things which were done by my teacher Andrew?
---Needless to say, I gave this student an A+
Question 4: a. If you were given 25,000 dollars, how would you spend it? b. How would you use the money if you had to spend it in one day?
Student 1: If I was given $25,000 dollars I can spend it in some projects. For example an agriculture project.
If I had to use the money in one day, I mustn't spend it, because the project can't happen in one day.
---Point taken.
Student 2: If I were given $25,000 dollars, I can be happy and I can give the glory to the Lord
--his English was a little limited, and on the other end of the spectrum was student 3
Student 3: If I had to use that money in one day, I can notice that it is very impossible to use it in one day, so one has to think profoundly and deeply how that money will be used/spent. However, this requires somebody to think so much and planify, after planifying then you can spend it in a good way and think about the necessary things or needs for which you wish to spend that money on. But if you do not think before using that money and if you use it the same day, really make sure that you will do nothing unnecessary - the reason why one must think more and more in order to deepen his/her process.
--his English was not limited enough.
I'll definitely be missing my students with all their quirks and different personalities. I enjoyed seeing just glimpses of each of their hearts and passions while here and I really hope that they will keep seeking after God and find themselves in a life full of joy, peace and harnessed potential.
My classes and the tests for the students have all finished now,
yesterday I went through the exams, marking them and trying to figure out which students
had really learned well. For each of the tests I had a reading/writing portion as well as an oral part. I enjoyed individually 'interviewing' the first and second level students, however there were too many to test individually in the third level so the audio component was as a group. Below are the written portions for the each level.
First Level
Second Level
Third Level
I would just like to take an opportunity now to share some of my favorite exams answers with you from the different levels of classes.
Question 1: Can you give my directions to get to Nyawera Marker from Bethsaida Church?
1 student writes - Directions from Bethsaida Church to Nyawera Market is localised on right direction if your coming from Major Vayou to Nywarea Market at Mahungu Street behind at Mahungu La Voix.
--- I never got to Nyawera Market...
different student writes- Yes I can give you directions from Bethsaida Church to Nywarea Market.
---Classic
Question 2: Write 5 complete sentences of your own.
Student's sentences: I'm a Christian boy. I still be young. I don't need a wife right now. I need to go far with my studies. I just put my hope in God.
---I think he was preaching to me.
Question 3: If you had the opportunity to speak to a crowd of 10,000 people in Canada, what would you tell them?
Student 1: I could tell them not to forget our country, in sending us missionaries, and the good missionary like our teacher Andrew. And why not tell them about good things which were done by my teacher Andrew?
---Needless to say, I gave this student an A+
Question 4: a. If you were given 25,000 dollars, how would you spend it? b. How would you use the money if you had to spend it in one day?
Student 1: If I was given $25,000 dollars I can spend it in some projects. For example an agriculture project.
If I had to use the money in one day, I mustn't spend it, because the project can't happen in one day.
---Point taken.
Student 2: If I were given $25,000 dollars, I can be happy and I can give the glory to the Lord
--his English was a little limited, and on the other end of the spectrum was student 3
Student 3: If I had to use that money in one day, I can notice that it is very impossible to use it in one day, so one has to think profoundly and deeply how that money will be used/spent. However, this requires somebody to think so much and planify, after planifying then you can spend it in a good way and think about the necessary things or needs for which you wish to spend that money on. But if you do not think before using that money and if you use it the same day, really make sure that you will do nothing unnecessary - the reason why one must think more and more in order to deepen his/her process.
--his English was not limited enough.
I'll definitely be missing my students with all their quirks and different personalities. I enjoyed seeing just glimpses of each of their hearts and passions while here and I really hope that they will keep seeking after God and find themselves in a life full of joy, peace and harnessed potential.
Wednesday 22 August 2012
Letters to the Congo (Goma & Bukavu) III
Dear Congo,
I feel like our time together is slipping away now and, as I think of where I will go next,
I'm now having more difficulty writing the words of experience with you into my heart
as I had been in able to do in months past.
So lately I've been searching for a concrete moment to hold onto in mind and heart.
I've had thoughts of my trip to Goma;
of the roads paved by volcanic eruption,
of UN tanks, cruisers and reminders of war that rumbled by
the pink, barbie mansion hotel I stayed in.
I've had thoughts of the boys riding their wooden bicycles like ghosts down the street
as the flour they transported in holey bags colored their bodies white.
I've had thoughts of my visit to Green Lake just outside the city.
A beautiful body fed by underground springs.
A small haven in the midst of tree-filled hills,
yet with its own touch of dishonesty.
For as I arrived in the taxi I had taken,
I first saw the lake which rested at the bottom of a steep path.
Second, I saw all the trash. Its so easily hidden in a photo.
No one could be the wiser that as you stand before this pocket of majesty,
behind the camera sits heaps of garbage, rubbish, waste.
I've been unsure what to make of that moment, Congo.
I've been unsure what to feel about your people who treat the land this way.
Are culture and circumstance an excuse?
I'm not sure.
But I try to hold my patience. I'm merely an observer in this time.
I've had thoughts of the pickpocket at the port,
and the nun on the boat who shared her meal with me.
I've had thoughts of the corruption of military men requesting money for 'infractions' I had made,
and of the vendor who searched for me to return 50 missing franks of change after a purchase.
I saw so many faces of humanity,
I have been so frustrated and yet so refreshed.
Amidst all these thoughts Congo, I think there is something I have been holding onto.
It's not a moment, or a picture in mind, but a thought that I feel I must tell you.
Sometimes I think, in pity, about all your people endure.
How the world of your children is full of dirty clothes,
smoke of garbage burning,
and water spilling from the yellow buckets on their backs.
So many of your people are so poor.
And I let myself think that they thus have some sort of excuse
for taking desperate measures at times.
But poverty is not an excuse to sin, Congo.
If we allow ourselves to pity people in such a way that sins become excusable because of lack,
the cycle of brokenness will never end.
If we allow ourselves to see poverty as an excuse to treat the earth in the most convenient way available, all we end up with is soil stripped of its nutrients and of its usefulness.
The cracks cannot be stopped with material taken by breaking pieces out of the same wall.
No, that cannot be the way.
Poverty is not an excuse for anyone to treat another person and even the earth
with anything less than utmost respect and dignity,
Poverty is an opportunity though,
an opportunity to demonstrate satisfaction in God
despite a severe lack of material wealth.
To glorify God in the midst of suffering
in ways that I have much more difficulty to do in the midst of comfort.
What an opportunity.
But I do not want your people to have a shallow walk with God.
I don't know them well enough, but in honesty Congo, this is what I think sometimes:
sometimes I think your people see God the way they see me - as a muzungu.
I think that many of your people see hope when they see me,
they see the possibility that their situation can be changed.
And of course this can feel pretty good, to be hope to someone.
But they cannot set their hope in me, I am too limited.
My only brightness is from the light of God, and that is where there hope must be set.
Even yet though, I see 'God-fearing people' all over the place,
I see it painted on car windows,
I see crosses around necks,
I see storefronts with the name of Jesus in their logo,
and amidst all these things I see,
I cannot help but fear that sometimes God is just a muzungu here.
Not to all people, no, but to many.
I feel the hope of many is headed in the right direction,
but often it ends up resting in God the resource rather than in God our provider.
That is what I mean in my wondering if God is a muzungu to many of your people Congo.
Many people tell me that when they see someone like me, they see money.
I hope that when they think of God, they do not think merely of the possibility of possessions,
but rather that their hope lies in their eternal inheritance to come,
and their rest is in the present peace and joy that is available in midst of pain.
That their circumstances are recognizable as an opportunity to give glory to God
demonstrated by their utmost satisfaction in Him today.
Congo, I'll admit that I can get so distracted in being proud over what I own, what I've done,
or about bragging that I know someone who owns this, knows those people, or runs that business.
I get so bogged down with petty wealth on earth,
and all the while I am sitting on an eternal inheritance of riches
beyond any earthly comprehension which awaits for me when this life passes.
Maybe I don't believe in my inheritance as much as I say that I do.
I hope my disbelief can be helped though.
Your people Congo, though they suffer now,
if they truly, genuinely set their hope in God, also sit on such an inheritance.
Congo, I do not know the hearts of your people,
and I won't pretend that I understand you.
I am only an observer and these are only my thoughts,
but I feel like I needed to share this with you.
Thank you for all that you've shown me about you and about myself.
I feel like our time together is slipping away now and, as I think of where I will go next,
I'm now having more difficulty writing the words of experience with you into my heart
as I had been in able to do in months past.
So lately I've been searching for a concrete moment to hold onto in mind and heart.
I've had thoughts of my trip to Goma;
of the roads paved by volcanic eruption,
of UN tanks, cruisers and reminders of war that rumbled by
the pink, barbie mansion hotel I stayed in.
I've had thoughts of the boys riding their wooden bicycles like ghosts down the street
as the flour they transported in holey bags colored their bodies white.
I've had thoughts of my visit to Green Lake just outside the city.
A beautiful body fed by underground springs.
A small haven in the midst of tree-filled hills,
yet with its own touch of dishonesty.
For as I arrived in the taxi I had taken,
I first saw the lake which rested at the bottom of a steep path.
Second, I saw all the trash. Its so easily hidden in a photo.
No one could be the wiser that as you stand before this pocket of majesty,
behind the camera sits heaps of garbage, rubbish, waste.
I've been unsure what to make of that moment, Congo.
I've been unsure what to feel about your people who treat the land this way.
Are culture and circumstance an excuse?
I'm not sure.
But I try to hold my patience. I'm merely an observer in this time.
I've had thoughts of the pickpocket at the port,
and the nun on the boat who shared her meal with me.
I've had thoughts of the corruption of military men requesting money for 'infractions' I had made,
and of the vendor who searched for me to return 50 missing franks of change after a purchase.
I saw so many faces of humanity,
I have been so frustrated and yet so refreshed.
Amidst all these thoughts Congo, I think there is something I have been holding onto.
It's not a moment, or a picture in mind, but a thought that I feel I must tell you.
Sometimes I think, in pity, about all your people endure.
How the world of your children is full of dirty clothes,
smoke of garbage burning,
and water spilling from the yellow buckets on their backs.
So many of your people are so poor.
And I let myself think that they thus have some sort of excuse
for taking desperate measures at times.
But poverty is not an excuse to sin, Congo.
If we allow ourselves to pity people in such a way that sins become excusable because of lack,
the cycle of brokenness will never end.
If we allow ourselves to see poverty as an excuse to treat the earth in the most convenient way available, all we end up with is soil stripped of its nutrients and of its usefulness.
The cracks cannot be stopped with material taken by breaking pieces out of the same wall.
No, that cannot be the way.
Poverty is not an excuse for anyone to treat another person and even the earth
with anything less than utmost respect and dignity,
Poverty is an opportunity though,
an opportunity to demonstrate satisfaction in God
despite a severe lack of material wealth.
To glorify God in the midst of suffering
in ways that I have much more difficulty to do in the midst of comfort.
What an opportunity.
But I do not want your people to have a shallow walk with God.
I don't know them well enough, but in honesty Congo, this is what I think sometimes:
sometimes I think your people see God the way they see me - as a muzungu.
I think that many of your people see hope when they see me,
they see the possibility that their situation can be changed.
And of course this can feel pretty good, to be hope to someone.
But they cannot set their hope in me, I am too limited.
My only brightness is from the light of God, and that is where there hope must be set.
Even yet though, I see 'God-fearing people' all over the place,
I see it painted on car windows,
I see crosses around necks,
I see storefronts with the name of Jesus in their logo,
and amidst all these things I see,
I cannot help but fear that sometimes God is just a muzungu here.
Not to all people, no, but to many.
I feel the hope of many is headed in the right direction,
but often it ends up resting in God the resource rather than in God our provider.
That is what I mean in my wondering if God is a muzungu to many of your people Congo.
Many people tell me that when they see someone like me, they see money.
I hope that when they think of God, they do not think merely of the possibility of possessions,
but rather that their hope lies in their eternal inheritance to come,
and their rest is in the present peace and joy that is available in midst of pain.
That their circumstances are recognizable as an opportunity to give glory to God
demonstrated by their utmost satisfaction in Him today.
Congo, I'll admit that I can get so distracted in being proud over what I own, what I've done,
or about bragging that I know someone who owns this, knows those people, or runs that business.
I get so bogged down with petty wealth on earth,
and all the while I am sitting on an eternal inheritance of riches
beyond any earthly comprehension which awaits for me when this life passes.
Maybe I don't believe in my inheritance as much as I say that I do.
I hope my disbelief can be helped though.
Your people Congo, though they suffer now,
if they truly, genuinely set their hope in God, also sit on such an inheritance.
Congo, I do not know the hearts of your people,
and I won't pretend that I understand you.
I am only an observer and these are only my thoughts,
but I feel like I needed to share this with you.
Thank you for all that you've shown me about you and about myself.
Sincerely,
A Sojourner soon to drift
from your midst
--------------------------------------------------------
Tuesday 21 August 2012
A Few Thoughts for Oncoming Days
August 22. The five day marker of the oncoming completion of this journey.
I'll have to admit that as my time winds down I am having a lot of difficulty staying checked in and fully present here. Some days I honestly feel like I'm just drifting through a dream. But I know that when I do leave and I come to realization that I really was living in Bukavu of the DRC I will wish that I had been fully present at every moment. So that is my current battle, how to keep my mind engaged in the here and now.
By the end of today I'll have finished testing all my students. Tomorrow I will mark their tests and begin to create certificates. Also over the final few days I'll be trying to visit friends throughout the city to say some final goodbyes. As well visiting some familiar spots to take a few final breaths there and be sure to properly etch memories of this place into my mind. So that when I look back and remember this place I will not remember the city as a place of desolation, poverty or corruption, but rather as a place where God was needed and where God was at work.
Now as I try and stay engaged in these tasks, I do still want to be preparing myself for the next step. If there is something I have while here it is not an intentional life is no more important overseas than it is at home. I don't see why I should feel such a thrust to live with purpose here but at home it is alright to be a bit more comfortable. No no. The people at home are no less deserving and no less in need of someone to encourage, uplift, invest in and have the love of God made known to them, than the people here are. God doesn't love the people of Africa more than the people of Canada.
So perhaps I shall move forward in these final days with a semi-detached mindset. Being both present here, but at the same time preparing myself for the mission to come. As I had prayed and prepped before heading to the Congo, so may I pray and prep before returning so that I will enter with the same mindset. The mindset that acknowledges I am heading into a land full of people needing love, full of earth and adventures and opportunities, full of forces obvious and discrete that would distract and pull people away from who they are really called to be.
I've had the thought many times that perhaps the need for me to try and be intentional in Canada is actually more important than while I am on the "mission field". Its easier to be intentional here, and much harder when you're seated on a comfortable couch with cable TV. Not that comfort's a crime, but it can be a prison cell. I'm too guilty of too often locking myself in my house and just floating through time without any real direction or purpose. 'Just passing the time' I'd say. When all along its really time that's passing me by. While I sit at my computer or TV opportunities flow by me like river waters over a stubborn rock that refuses to move. It will never know all that the river could show it. I'm curious to see how rich life can be in Canada should I choose to live with the intentionality and spirit of adventure that I have lived with here. Will I see life in so many colors as I have seen it here? I now that my perspectives, attitudes and choices affect what colors I am able to see. They change my world so much, even if their effect on the world entire is small. This is not about carpe diem. I often fool myself into think that living intentionally is about getting the most out of life, seeing the most beautiful sights, climbing the most beautiful heights, but that is not the best way.
I'll have to admit that as my time winds down I am having a lot of difficulty staying checked in and fully present here. Some days I honestly feel like I'm just drifting through a dream. But I know that when I do leave and I come to realization that I really was living in Bukavu of the DRC I will wish that I had been fully present at every moment. So that is my current battle, how to keep my mind engaged in the here and now.
By the end of today I'll have finished testing all my students. Tomorrow I will mark their tests and begin to create certificates. Also over the final few days I'll be trying to visit friends throughout the city to say some final goodbyes. As well visiting some familiar spots to take a few final breaths there and be sure to properly etch memories of this place into my mind. So that when I look back and remember this place I will not remember the city as a place of desolation, poverty or corruption, but rather as a place where God was needed and where God was at work.
Now as I try and stay engaged in these tasks, I do still want to be preparing myself for the next step. If there is something I have while here it is not an intentional life is no more important overseas than it is at home. I don't see why I should feel such a thrust to live with purpose here but at home it is alright to be a bit more comfortable. No no. The people at home are no less deserving and no less in need of someone to encourage, uplift, invest in and have the love of God made known to them, than the people here are. God doesn't love the people of Africa more than the people of Canada.
So perhaps I shall move forward in these final days with a semi-detached mindset. Being both present here, but at the same time preparing myself for the mission to come. As I had prayed and prepped before heading to the Congo, so may I pray and prep before returning so that I will enter with the same mindset. The mindset that acknowledges I am heading into a land full of people needing love, full of earth and adventures and opportunities, full of forces obvious and discrete that would distract and pull people away from who they are really called to be.
I've had the thought many times that perhaps the need for me to try and be intentional in Canada is actually more important than while I am on the "mission field". Its easier to be intentional here, and much harder when you're seated on a comfortable couch with cable TV. Not that comfort's a crime, but it can be a prison cell. I'm too guilty of too often locking myself in my house and just floating through time without any real direction or purpose. 'Just passing the time' I'd say. When all along its really time that's passing me by. While I sit at my computer or TV opportunities flow by me like river waters over a stubborn rock that refuses to move. It will never know all that the river could show it. I'm curious to see how rich life can be in Canada should I choose to live with the intentionality and spirit of adventure that I have lived with here. Will I see life in so many colors as I have seen it here? I now that my perspectives, attitudes and choices affect what colors I am able to see. They change my world so much, even if their effect on the world entire is small. This is not about carpe diem. I often fool myself into think that living intentionally is about getting the most out of life, seeing the most beautiful sights, climbing the most beautiful heights, but that is not the best way.
Living intentionally is not about getting the most out of life,
it's about giving the most away in this life.
Friday 17 August 2012
The City (II)
Recent Events: I'm finished teaching classes now and will give my students a final test this coming week. I've seen off several friends from America and Norway now; greatly enjoyed getting to know people from around the world here.
Today I headed for a short visit to Goma where the adventures continue. I can't do a whole lot as far as seeing the volcano goes due to insecurity in the area, back in July it was under threat of invasion by the rebel M23 group.The threat has decreased now though and I'm thankful to be able to see it before I go. Though I've been here only 5 hours now, I can already see that it is a stark contrast to Bukavu.
I'll update more in the coming week. But for now here is the second lot of pics from around Bukavu.
Monday 13 August 2012
The City (I)
Alright so my previous post was initially meant to be merely a short thought aimed at introducing some photos of the city. But I get a little carried away in my metaphorical musings I suppose.
So here now I had better stick to my original intentions and finally provide some
visual confirmation that I have been living in the city of Bukavu.
This will be one of two or so posts with photos of people, daily life, the nature, cityscape...etc which has made up the place where I chosen to call home for these summer months of 2012.
Here be the first.
So here now I had better stick to my original intentions and finally provide some
visual confirmation that I have been living in the city of Bukavu.
This will be one of two or so posts with photos of people, daily life, the nature, cityscape...etc which has made up the place where I chosen to call home for these summer months of 2012.
Here be the first.
A new hotel being built up near the lake.
Mantis. Took this photo while waiting for the gorilla crew that fateful Sunday morning.
I had to take ten or more photos before one actually focused on the mantis
thus the fella was getting quite agitated with me being in his face,
hence his butt is sticking in the air.
Every time I walk the path to or from Orchid Hotel this is my view.
The outskirts of Bukavu. Communities of IDPs (Internally Displaced Peoples).
Fisherman...obviously. From the day of my canoe ride.
Artist starting a mural for a daycare or school I believe.
Back alley. I'm told these dirt hills are deadly in the rainy season. Slip'n'slide.
From La Rosche Hotel. One of my favorite places to plan lessons,
I don't meet many people here though hence my increased time at Orchid Hotel.
Sunrise over Bukavu and the Rusizi River.
On the way to visiting a family mourning the loss of their baby.
The beauty and the pain.
The beauty and the pain.
Soccer field and trash heap near my church. The heap serves as a reminder of the poverty in this city as I see people - adults, teens, children carrying babies - pulling scraps out of the trash.
Though the man you see on the heap was actually just reading a book,
a strange place for such an activity I thought,
but to each his own.
Small kids, huge truck.
In the morning, after visiting one of my best students who was hospitalized by malaria.
He is well again now and back to attending classes.
A Catholic church that I discovered only about a week ago despite walking quite nearby it almost every day. I guess I haven't walked with quite enough awareness of whats all around.
Houses being constructed. Everywhere. Anywhere.
Some may take 20 years to build as people just buy materials whenever they have the money.
A different life.
Live the Past.
Some recent thoughts of my recent days.
-----
Today marks two weeks until my departure from the Congo.
I suppose that this is the post I now make stating how I can't believe how fast time
has flown by and that I don't know where the days went.
But, that wouldn't be true to say, because I can absolutely believe I've spent nearly 3 months here.
This experience has been so rich and so full.
My life has been deeply affected in a way that takes time,
a careful process where a different way of life has only begun to percolate into my own.
A process of living alongside people for even a little while,
of tasting of the daily bread of their lives,
of catching a glimpse of the types of sunrises and sunsets that begin and end their days.
Soon now though all this shall become just a story,
not one that gathers dust on a bookshelf,
nor one that is picked up to be read again and again,
but one that becomes part of an ongoing, forward turning of the pages.
I've been affected by so many things and have had the opportunity to enter, even if only for brief moments, into the lives of so many new people here
I hope that I have adequately recognized what a privilege it is to write a line, paragraph or page
into another person's story.
As the pen of my thoughts, words and deeds has touched the paper that is another life,
I hope that my writing has not been sloppy or unintentional.
Did I think about what I would write or did I just let the ink bleed all over the page?
Oh the many pages this time has filled,
and I hope that I have been able to fill those of others with love, hope and faith.
----
The days already almost begin to feel like times passed.
When I walk familiar roads outside the mission gates
sometime I feel like I'm already walking through my own memories.
I find myself wondering if this shall be a moment, if he shall be a person,
if that shall be a sound that I will think back on, as I walk Canadian streets,
and that I will dearly miss.
When I lie in my own bed, will I think of the night and early morning hours here
where I laid listening to the sounds of the city while trying to keep my
feet from scraping against the mosquito net?
When I sit in my Canadian church, will my thoughts return to the church and choirs here
with the beating of the drums, the movement of the dancers and the intensity of people's prayers?
I'm glad that I am thinking of these things already.
There is the risk of checking out, of course, or leaving this place before I go.
But there is also the possibility of using these thoughts to recognize
that I am still in control of my final days here that will, one day, become old memories.
That the sort of baggage, good or bad, that I'll be carrying around with me later on
I'm packing it today.
People say that you can't change the past,
but I don't fully agree.
Right now I'm choosing and changing the moments that will become my past.
Right now I'm changing my past.
Maybe I actually have more control over my past than my future.
I can now ask myself: 'If I had that moment again, what would I change about it?',
while I still actually have the ability to make that change.
While I have the ability to live the memory before losing the moment.
People say not to live in the past.
I agree,
but maybe - if I can say it without sounding like I've spent too much time in the clouds -
maybe we should live the past.
Live the past while we still have it now.
So that we can say we had spent our time under the sun
soaking in life rather than letting its waters just run us by.
Etching the details of a moment into our minds
by really seeing each color that has been painted into our surroundings,
by noting each texture that has been woven into the fabric of life,
by hearing the inflections of emotion in another person's voice
as we intently listen to their words.
By nurturing the moments so that they may grow into memories deeply rooted in experiences
rich in risks taken, mistakes made, integrity upheld, people loved, faith proudly held firm
and of still, quiet moments where we breathed deep, quiet breaths.
----
-----
Today marks two weeks until my departure from the Congo.
I suppose that this is the post I now make stating how I can't believe how fast time
has flown by and that I don't know where the days went.
But, that wouldn't be true to say, because I can absolutely believe I've spent nearly 3 months here.
This experience has been so rich and so full.
My life has been deeply affected in a way that takes time,
a careful process where a different way of life has only begun to percolate into my own.
A process of living alongside people for even a little while,
of tasting of the daily bread of their lives,
of catching a glimpse of the types of sunrises and sunsets that begin and end their days.
Soon now though all this shall become just a story,
not one that gathers dust on a bookshelf,
nor one that is picked up to be read again and again,
but one that becomes part of an ongoing, forward turning of the pages.
I've been affected by so many things and have had the opportunity to enter, even if only for brief moments, into the lives of so many new people here
I hope that I have adequately recognized what a privilege it is to write a line, paragraph or page
into another person's story.
As the pen of my thoughts, words and deeds has touched the paper that is another life,
I hope that my writing has not been sloppy or unintentional.
Did I think about what I would write or did I just let the ink bleed all over the page?
Oh the many pages this time has filled,
and I hope that I have been able to fill those of others with love, hope and faith.
----
The days already almost begin to feel like times passed.
When I walk familiar roads outside the mission gates
sometime I feel like I'm already walking through my own memories.
I find myself wondering if this shall be a moment, if he shall be a person,
if that shall be a sound that I will think back on, as I walk Canadian streets,
and that I will dearly miss.
When I lie in my own bed, will I think of the night and early morning hours here
where I laid listening to the sounds of the city while trying to keep my
feet from scraping against the mosquito net?
When I sit in my Canadian church, will my thoughts return to the church and choirs here
with the beating of the drums, the movement of the dancers and the intensity of people's prayers?
I'm glad that I am thinking of these things already.
There is the risk of checking out, of course, or leaving this place before I go.
But there is also the possibility of using these thoughts to recognize
that I am still in control of my final days here that will, one day, become old memories.
That the sort of baggage, good or bad, that I'll be carrying around with me later on
I'm packing it today.
People say that you can't change the past,
but I don't fully agree.
Right now I'm choosing and changing the moments that will become my past.
Right now I'm changing my past.
Maybe I actually have more control over my past than my future.
I can now ask myself: 'If I had that moment again, what would I change about it?',
while I still actually have the ability to make that change.
While I have the ability to live the memory before losing the moment.
People say not to live in the past.
I agree,
but maybe - if I can say it without sounding like I've spent too much time in the clouds -
maybe we should live the past.
Live the past while we still have it now.
So that we can say we had spent our time under the sun
soaking in life rather than letting its waters just run us by.
Etching the details of a moment into our minds
by really seeing each color that has been painted into our surroundings,
by noting each texture that has been woven into the fabric of life,
by hearing the inflections of emotion in another person's voice
as we intently listen to their words.
By nurturing the moments so that they may grow into memories deeply rooted in experiences
rich in risks taken, mistakes made, integrity upheld, people loved, faith proudly held firm
and of still, quiet moments where we breathed deep, quiet breaths.
----
Saturday 11 August 2012
It's All Real.
Yesterday I drove with Raha and a few others up to the village of Katana and the surrounding regions. Here they will be doing a needs assessment for a food security program. Once again I feel overwhelmed by the rich diversity of experience that I have been offered while in the Congo, and I'm thankful for all those working hard to try and provide food and security of life for the people here.
---
I was able to drive again on the country-side roads of the Congo and I must say I enjoyed it immensely. Did you ever sit in an old vehicle as a kid and imagine yourself as an adventurer driving a land cruiser through mountains, beside lakes and dodging craters in the road? Well I felt like I was that kid again in some old vehicle dreaming those old dreams. Except I wasn't imagining it anymore, its real life now; filled with sounds, smells, more beautiful scenery than I had imagined and with kids yelling to me from the side of the road one of my many names here such as 'Mzungu', 'MONUC', or 'Biscuite'.
---
One of the regions we visited was a peninsula 5km wide and 10km long and hosted more than 7000 people. The main crops of the area are casava, beans, groundnuts and bananas. However both the bananas and casava are currently affected by disease, and this has taken an especially hard toll especially on the banana production.
---
I was able to drive again on the country-side roads of the Congo and I must say I enjoyed it immensely. Did you ever sit in an old vehicle as a kid and imagine yourself as an adventurer driving a land cruiser through mountains, beside lakes and dodging craters in the road? Well I felt like I was that kid again in some old vehicle dreaming those old dreams. Except I wasn't imagining it anymore, its real life now; filled with sounds, smells, more beautiful scenery than I had imagined and with kids yelling to me from the side of the road one of my many names here such as 'Mzungu', 'MONUC', or 'Biscuite'.
---
One of the regions we visited was a peninsula 5km wide and 10km long and hosted more than 7000 people. The main crops of the area are casava, beans, groundnuts and bananas. However both the bananas and casava are currently affected by disease, and this has taken an especially hard toll especially on the banana production.
A diseased banana.
Casava drying in the sun. These took about 10 months to grow, I was told.
Here are a few photos from the day.
A schoolyard. Sometimes when I'm standing in these places and my eyes are wandering through my surroundings I feel like I'm looking at a picture or painting; but then someone walks out of a door and I remind myself that its all real.
I tried to make friends with this young one, but he just started crying. Alas.
The chicken was a gift from our host from the village. I chuckle every time I see this stare-down.
The team.
Lake Kivu.
I doubt I shall ever see again a land so rich with a people so poor. Keep this place in your prayers.
I doubt I shall ever see again a land so rich with a people so poor. Keep this place in your prayers.
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