A little Friend

Life is good

Yesterday...

Pastor Raha took me on small driving tour of parts of Bukavu,

showing me some residences of government members,

civil buildings,

a large Belgium Catholic church, 

and, among other things, a beautiful place to relax by the lake

and do work if my darn-tootin computer battery lasted longer (yes, yes I know, get a mac).

When first arriving in Bukavu I didn't exactly think of it as an aesthetically beautiful city

but as I see more there are definitely features about it that demonstrate

how even in a busy, crowded and, in some cases, desperate place

the peace of God can still be found throughout His creation

in a tree, in a flower, in the rolling hills and the in the sound of the wind rolling over the water

and the waves lapping the shore;

a song shared by all places around the world where the land meets the sea.

Now you may, perhaps, be wondering now why I am not posting any pictures of the city.

This is because I want to take up a challenge of not taking pictures for the first 3rd of my time here.

A challenge to see culture not in terms of what I deem as picture worthy or ordinary,

but, for the first while, to just see it and not make assumptions about it.

However, with this said

 because I enjoy taking photos I'll still post pictures of sites around the guest house.

Such as this little friend of mine I found traipsing along my bedroom wall

  

 This soft drink with an identity crisis

And some African memorabilia

Also Yesterday...

I had my first English class.

It was supposed to just be a day when I would let the students know about the separate groups

that they will be in. But I ended up teaching an introductory lesson anyway,

I have a feeling this would happen, so I was very glad I brought my supplies

even though my computer, which had notes on it, was acting up and wouldn't power up properly...

( I know I know...)

I decided to divide the group of students into three parts, each meeting a different day, 

which I'm very glad I did.

Teaching all the students with so many levels of English in one class of 40 people = ineffective.

Its too slow for the advanced and too quick for beginners,

so hopefully this strategy will work.

I look forward to smaller class sizes (about 12, 20 and 10 roughly)

and then getting to know people a bit better as well. 

An answer to prayer as well, my Swahili teacher,  Oscar, a well educated Congolese national,

also offered me some resources as well that he has used to teach English.

He also informed me that most Congolese also teach English through their four years of high school,

something I did not know and explains why so many people have a basic knowledge.

I hope to do what I am here to do with excellence,
but must remember that doesn't mean the same thing as not making any mistakes.

Flexibility

I once heard a global worker say

"Blessed are the flexible, for they shall bend and not break."

This, of course, is not referring to physical flexibility, but rather of spirit, will and attitude.
Four days in the Congo and its something I am reminded of now.
I'm not saying that I feel at a breaking point, I love it here,
but I do recognize already that if I am not willing walk with the river
to find the down-current 'v' and veer towards it,
I'll probably get swept away.

Flexibility.
In planning for the Congo my initial thoughts were not that I would be teaching English.
I've never seen myself as a teacher, and have not had any great desire to be so.
However, as fate would have it, one thing that the national pastor who is hosting me
asked me to do while here is to teach English.

I'm not going to lie, my heart didn't exactly skip a beat when I heard this,
but I knew I had to be willing to do what I needed in order to serve others
rather than to just reap for myself.

Since then and unto today the amount of time I will teach has probably doubled,
and I will be teaching almost every day to two separate classes.
But its okay. Its really okay.
I will still need to learn how to do what I need to do.
But if its what I'm supposed to be doing,
then as I seek to do with excellence, the resources will come,
the ideas will come, the confidence will come, heck, maybe even enjoying it will come.
And the love for my students, ages 18-40 something, will...no...has already begun to form. 

Yesterday, realizing that 40 or so students is not ideal for one classroom,
especially given that their English level vary greatly,
 we composed a small assessment to figure out each person's English proficiency.
This was one part writing/reading and one part a short interview.
I am thankful for this as it has given me an idea of the level of English,
and also gave me the chance, even if very briefly, to meet each student.
I am playing back their faces in my mind as they listened to and answered my questions. 
Some were very confident, others not so.
Some understand everything I said, a few only a couple words.
Furaha...Pascal...Tumaini...Mufano...Prince...Ireilengmendeakwna (that was a fun one, I later learned that he was merging together his full name and his first was actually just Ireile).

But as much as I did not originally plan on teaching English in my time in Bukavu,
as I type this and think about the students,
more and more I really want to do it with excellence.
And I thank God for allowing the change of heart, the flexibility within me.
I've got a lot to learn, but it is a great source of peace to remember that, in the end, I am not even working with these students. But that all is unto God.
My part is do my best with a willing, prayerful and thankful spirit,
beyond that I have no control
and I place it into God's hands to do with as He pleases. 

"And whatever you do, whether in word or deed, do it all in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the father through Him...Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart, as working for the Lord, not for men. " Colossians 3:17, 23

And with thus an attitude we will prove ourselves, as wise students of the trees, being graceful in the wind.

Comfort.

Some photographia of my cell. 

 

I could live quite comfortably.

I have four walls and a roof. A kitchen, living room, bedroom and bathroom.

I have a porch with two chairs, a table and Swedish milk can filled with flowers

 picked from the gardens protected by the guest house walls, gates and wires.

I have neighbours from Sweden, Norway and America who all speak English

and are foreign here as I.

I do not have to go out for food, someone comes and cooks here.

 I have internet that works...on and off, but so it was on my farm in Ontario.

I have power that works, except from 3:30pm to 6:30pm and in the middle of the night,

but quite frankly I've been looking for an excuse to read more.

Plus, laptops have batteries.

I am comfortable.

 It could be easy to forget that the low murmur I hear

from beyond the guest house walls

are the voices of a million people. 

It could be easy to forget that many are living in poverty
within a vastly wealthy country.

That many have been forced to move to the city due to war and conflict,

 that some have been forced or tricked into prostitution,
that many have been raped,
or have a mother, sister, daughter or wife that have been.

It could be easy to forget it, even here.

 Even in the middle of Bukavu, South Kivu province of the Democratic Republic of the Congo.

 Even here I could forget it and live quite comfortably. 

And I will be flat out honest with you, 

a part of me would be content with, each day, staying in my little piece of paradise here. 

To do enough work or ministry to make me feel good about myself 

and then retreat to my own little haven.

I know it's selfish..

but there is a part of me content with ruling in my little kingdom of comfort and control,

but I'm glad I recognize this within me now.

 I'm glad I see it so that I can challenge it.

I know that when you are stretched is when you grow, 

and that it is uncomfortable to be stretched, 

and that it's not comfortable to be uncomfortable.

This might seem obvious,

 but it's easy to forget. 

It's one thing to say that you want to grow and be challenged.

It's quite another thing to realize that growing and being challenged is not required to be fun 

and that you are often only thankful for stretching experiences 

after they are over and rarely in the midst of them.

I've also come to realize something else.

That stepping outside your comfort zone is not at all merely about where you go.

Travelling to lowest ranking country for quality of human life among the nearly two hundred countries which the UN ranks does not necessarily mean that I have stepped out of my comfort zone.

Stepping out of your comfort zone is a condition of the heart and mind. 

It is a willingness to do what scares you.

 And this happens just as much in Canada, America, anywhere, as it happens here in Bukavu.

A lot of people were impressed that I chose to travel here to the Congo for my internship. 

And of course my ego liked that.

But I will say this, I think that it is just as impressive of a feat for someone to step out of their lovely walls of security and control in Canada 

and live unconventionally  

and love conditionally, 

perhaps even inconveniently, 

as it is for me to do that here.

It is just as impressive for someone to give up their comforts, 

their lust for materiality in North America, 

as it is for me to be comfortable with not having drinkable tap water 

and a kitchen sink that is electrically charged. 

Perhaps it is even more impressive for someone to do that in North America than here. 

Just a thought...

Comfort is not a crime, but it can be a prison cell. 

Oh my Kingdom of comfort...my palace and my ruins. 

Nearly There, and the Brussels Endeavor

Location: Kigali, Rwanda

Time 8:10pm

After a full day of travelling I've safely made it into Kigali, Rwanda. 

Haven't seen much of Africa yet as it was dark by the time I got here, 

but one thing I do know already,

mosquitoes can find ways through the bed nets, somehow. 

Too much maple syrup makes the blood sweet and the skeeters desperate to get to it.

I'll have learned my lesson. 

God is good.

Tomorrow at about 5:30 am I will head back to the airport to catch my flight across Rwanda 

and then meet up with my pastor and we will drive into Bukavu. 

May my mind be on God and what He wants me to do. 

I already feel a love for this place.

Probably commonly known as the honeymoon stage.

But I hope that a genuine, deep love for the people here will resonate in me. 

I'm nearly there. 

Some photographs...

The tickets, I had great seats for the flights. Especially on the one, it was pure gold.

A tasty snack, though "cool, posh wraps" would have been more appropriate. 

 

 The Brussels Endeavor

 

I suppose it is about time I explained what this was. 

So for those of you who don't know, I was initially disappointed that my flight was not being routed through London, but rather through Brussels. "What's cool in Brussels?" I had originally thought. 

However, Abby and her folks have been in Germany and the surrounding area for the past few days and the next week. Now a few nights back when Abby and I were talking we realized that where they are staying is only a bit over two hours away from the Brussels airport, where I was connecting through from Toronto to Rwanda. So we hatched a master plan to meet in the two hours between going realizing that in reality taking into consideration customs and security checks we may only get 10 minutes. But her parents were down for it anyway, which was pretty cool. 

There were a number of worries from people though that border patrol would not allow connecting flight people out of the checked area. 

There was also the chance that the airport be too busy and I not make it through to me connecting flight. 

I got off the plane at 9pm, boarding for the next started at 9:50

But the risk had to be taken. 

The endeavor had to be made.
So I arrived in Brussels, went intentionally to the wrong transfer area because I knew the right one would not allow you to exit the airport. 

Well that's not entirely true, it was just a hunch, I didn't know for sure as you will see in a moment.
So I waited in line for a while, and when it was almost my turn I saw someone in a different line get told that for the Rwanda transfer they had to go to a different section. 

So I said shucks, and hoping to save some time I jumped out of line and went to that section with a little hope there was an exit there. After walking around at the correct area I discovered that you could definitely not leave the checked area from that section, so then I went back down and got in line again.

 I chose the female customs official hoping that she would be sympathetic to my story of hoping to meet my girlfriend in Brussels and let me into the country for a bit. 

Perhaps a bit sexist...hopefully not.

 But a stroke of bad luck came when, while there were other three people in front of me, this golf cart drives up with a few middle eastern people, the lady driving the cart butts in line, and then they take a long long time to get through. So I switch lines to this guy that I saw was smiling at everyone he let through. 'He's in a good mood" I thought. Unfortunately when there were only two people in front of my another golf cart drives up. Seeing that the previous cart was in the other line, this cart lady butts in front of the line that I had changed too. Frustrating to say the least. However the official recognized this and hurried them through quite well. 

My turn came up. 

The official told me that I needed to go to the other gate. 

So I asked if it was possible to just go into Brussels in between my connections. 

He told me I probably didn't have time to go into the city with the traffic and going through security again, so I explained I actually meant I just wanted to meet people in the airport. 

And he let me through! So I got to see Abby for about 15 min and it was a great little time. 

It was a little frustrating knowing that if I just stayed in line the first time I could have got an extra 20 min. But I am definitely just thankful for what did happen :) 

A great little bonus as I had originally been quite disappointed that I wasn't flying through London. 

Turns out Brussels had some great features about it.

And it did look pretty flying over too, so I would visit there for real one day.

Oh, and I made my connecting flight.

Candy shop in the airport, regret not getting Belgium chocolate. Cest la vie.

 Blurry, but saying goodbye to a great family. This was actually taken from the me getting into the wrong border check line...again. But accidentally this time.

 So a little story here. I had originally taken this photo because I thought it was funny that 'citizens' were all called 'burgers'. However it has another, less obvious point of interest. As I mentioned in the previous caption, as I was heading for my Rwanda flight after the visit I had accidentally went to the wrong border check. I was in a bit of a hurry by this time so it wasn't great to hear and I wasn't think too clear. So I got to the officer, he notified me of my mistake and indicated the direction to the correct border check for my departure. 

I promptly made my way straight in the direction of that border check,

and straight into the plexiglass wall that you see there...hard.

In front of a lot of people...

However I had a good laugh about it,

as did many others.

And I was still laughing about it 30 minutes later,

as I'm sure many others were.

I just hope it doesn't show up on youtube,

and I hope Abby's parents didn't see it.

Over the DRC and into Rwanda. 

And now, as I hear the noise of Kigali traffic and people buzzing outside my window,

I close off this post and hope for a good rest 

and time of letting God shape my heart and mind for what is to come.

It is Time.

5:49am in Edmonton, Alberta Canada.

1:29pm in Bukavu, Democratic Republic of the Congo. 

I will leave for the airport in about 20 minutes to catch my flight at 8am outta here. 

The funny this is, 

I feel like it still hasn't hit me yet

which means that this is probably a big deal. 

I do believe that this summer will be a time of shaping and sanctifying. 

I do believe that God has big plans

and I really want to follow them with my whole heart. 

God has been good in all His provisions.

Blessing me beyond what I could ever deserve,

and I hope that I can be a blessing to His people in Africa. 

Thank you to everyone supporting me

whether financially or through prayer,

when I say it means a lot I say that from a genuine heart. 

What's next....

8am departure from Edmonton, 

Layover in Toronto.

The Brussels Endeavor. Thursday Morning. 

Overnight in Rwanda.

DRC on June 1st.

See you when I get there.

Prayer requests:

For smooth and safe transitions in flights

For a mind and heart focused on God

For the ability to compose many English lessons out of the resources I have

For a continually renewed heart filled with love for God's people

The One.

Some thoughts after watching the film "Beware of Christians" and some discussion of relationships.

We are lead to believe that the search for the perfect person is an external venture, 

However it doesn't take long to realize that every person we get close to is just as broken as we are. 

No, the search for the Mr./Mrs. Right is not what we have been lead to believe it is. 

Rather than an external seeking

it is a venture within ourselves. 

Instead of creating a list

of the way we want that someone else to be

and then looking until we find someone who closely matches that list,

Perhaps we are rather to be pondering over that list,

of the non-negotiable and the bonus features 

we desire in another,

and then applying it to our own lives; 

In order to become that for someone else. 

This is not to say that we should ever settle,

that the character of other is not important.

But it is to say that we will be much more successful

in finding the right person

and finding joy and satisfaction

in relationship

when we

stop

seeking perfection from others and

start

truly applying ourselves to be what we would want others to be for us. 

If we were all seeking to be the right person,

rather than seeking for the right person to complete us, 

the search for Mr./Mrs. Right would be a lot easier, I think. 

As Christ gave Himself for the church,

for us.

As He gave up His life for even many who would love Him in return. 

This is a model for relationship. 

A selfless giving coupled with the recognition

that equal return is not always expected nor required. 

That is love.

Not kind actions done only so long as they are reciprocated,

so long as I am always made happy in return.  

That is selfishness. 

May we find ourselves filling from an unending source

in order to pour out.

Rather than expecting a broken vessel

to have the ability to satisfy another broken vessel.

May we love without requiring return,

truly giving.

You are the one for somebody,

act like it.

Killing Time

Killed some time, slaughtered even perhaps...no that's too graphic.
Just killed some time by watching the season premier of So You Think You Can Dance. 

Some of mi favoritos. 

The 'Zombie'

The 'Exorcist'

The 'I Wish I could do that'

Aaaand the cute, because people seem to like that stuff. 

If you haven't checked out the whole episode I recommend it, lots of great stuff.