REAL JOY GUARANTEED!

                Returning to the States after being in the 3^rd world always involves some culture shock.  My very sudden decision to return home meant some major cultural whip-lash.  I quickly went from termite-eating season to the American Christmas season. 

                Zambians celebrate Christmas too, of course.  Christmas day generally involves a family/village community joining together for special long church services worshiping the newborn King.  This will follow with a big feast of nshima and meat if it is available.  I was looking forward to sharing in these traditions and celebrations with some of my Zambian friends, but knew it wouldn’t feel at all like Christmas.

                American Christmas is filled with cultural tradition.  It’s just not Christmas if there’s not an obscenely decorated pine-tree in your living room, ham on the dinner table, and decorated gifts overflowing from every nook and cranny.

I tried explaining what a Christmas tree was to my Zambian friends… I think their reaction to this tradition was pretty similar to my reaction to them telling me about catching, frying, and eating termites.  Why on earth anyone would put a tree inside their house and put lights and other decoration on it is beyond their imagination.

Though I’m glad that I get to do my fair share of Christmas-tree decorating, gift-giving and receiving, and cookie-decorating we need to humbly admit that most of these traditions have absolutely nothing to do with Christmas. 

One of the biggest cultural whip-lash moments I had upon returning home happened in Sears.  This is what I saw: 

"Real joy guaranteed"

I had to laugh out loud.  REAL JOY GUARANTEED!?  That just sums up the empty promises of our American Consumerist Christmas traditions doesn’t it?  Buy all this STUFF and give all this STUFF and you’ll find REAL JOY.  I decided that if I buy a washing machine, and bring it back declaring that I didn’t get my guaranteed REAL JOY that it is my American right to demand and receive my money back. And of course keep the washing machine. 

I don’t want to be that person laying on guilt about “Jesus is the reason for the season.”  Sure it’s true, but how many of us can actually claim to not indulge in some of these American traditions?  In my mind, it’s not really anything to be ashamed of.  It is our culture.  It only becomes a problem when we start believing the lie that these American traditions are what deliver “REAL JOY.”

This Christmas I hope you thoroughly indulge in American Christmas traditions.  Spend way too much money on gifts for everyone you love.  Make lots of Christmas cookies and eat lots of them too.  Watch all the good Christmas movie classics and all the terrible new ones.  Sing songs about Santa and his reindeer, and leave cookies, milk and carrots out for them on Christmas Eve.  Deck the halls till you can’t recognize that they’re halls anymore.  Go all out.  But please, don’t get your expectations up.  Yes, I guarantee you’re going to have a lot of fun (and so am I!).  I guarantee that you’re going to make memories and enjoy being with your family.  I guarantee you’re going to eat too much, spend too much, and get too much.  But I also guarantee that these cultural traditions will not give you REAL JOY.

How do I know this?  Well my Zambian friends don’t have any of these things.  They don’t have gifts to give or trees to decorate or cookies to eat let alone ovens to bake cookies in.  But they’re still going to experience REAL JOY on Christmas through worshipping our Savior. 

Christmas is on Sunday this year.  Meaning we get twice the opportunity (Christmas Eve and Christmas day) to worship and celebrate the birth of our savior, our Lord. The One who came to give us life, and life to the full.  I hope you take the opportunity to worship him with your church community. Twice. (At the very least, go to support your pastor who is preaching at least two times within 12 hours on Christmas!)  I hope in the midst of enjoying and indulging in American traditions, you turn your heart towards the One who blessed you with it all.  I hope this year you give the Lord the opportunity to grab your heart with the truth and mystery of how the creator of heaven and earth came to live amongst his creation in order to bring us forgiveness, freedom, and life.   REAL JOY GUARANTEED.  J

This is the awesome Christmas tree I made in my apartment before leaving.  Yes, that is a lamp. :)

Medical Update

Well I've been home for one week, but it feels like about a month has gone by.  I was worried about how it might feel to be home, but mostly it all feels perfectly normal.  Zambia sometimes feels like it was in the distant past, and I'm regularly looking at photos to remind myself of names and memories of my friends there. 

The last week has been a crazy week.  My first night home began with a trip to the Emergency Department due to waking up with a violently upset stomach.  The bad side of this was of course being violently sick, but the good side was it put a jump start to the process of many lab tests. This was Sunday AM. 

Tuesday AM I got in to see my General Physician, for the sole purpose of him saying "yes you're sick, go see an Infectious Disease Specialist."  Duh, we knew this, yet the system requires his referral. 

Thankfully, we got an appointment Wednesday with an Infectious Disease specialist at Strong.  Though a very nice man, I felt like I knew more about malaria than he did.  Thankfully, he didnt charge us for the appointment and  he also made a phone call to Dr Shelly, the other Infectious Disease specialist in town.

Due to a cancelation by the Lord's grace, we were able to get an appointment with Dr Shelly on Friday morning. (They couldnt get us in for over two weeks).  In his office yesterday, my mom and I felt like we were finally with someone who knows what he's talking about.  So that's the good news.

The less good news, though not necessarily bad news, is that my blood work shows absolutely no signs that I've ever had malaria.  Though the doctor isnt completely ruling out malaria, he's not focusing on it.  Meaning a lot more blood work is in process right now, trying to come up with an answer. 

Why did I test 'positive' 3 times in Zambia?  Well, since malaria is so prevalent there, doctors/lab technicians tend to blanket diagnose people based on their symptoms.  If someone is sick, they need medicine.  If it seems like malaria, give them the medicine.  Since we dont have resources to do further testing to find out what is actually causing their symptoms, treat them for malaria.  The medical system deserves a blog post all to itself, and yes that will someday come.  The mystery is that I did in fact have blood smears done which the lab technicians diagnosed with malaria.  Because of the weakness of the medical system and possible faulty testing techniques, as well as my current blood work, the doctor and I are now questioning these diagnoses. 

Besides these doctors appointments, I've been sleeping for about 10-14 hours at night, and then 2-6 hours during the day.  My head feels like its going to explode.  Thankfully today, Saturday, I've managed to stay awake all day long and my head feels a teensy bit better. 

The good news about this is these test results make us suspicious of any positive malaria tests which Cindy and Mike have been diagnosed with, and they will be heading to South Africa this coming week for tests.   Also, people have been sick in Jembo recently with similar symptoms but not testing positive for malaria.  Meaning, something is up.  Perhaps me having to come home for testing will help solve the mystery. 

Thank you everyone for your prayers.  I know so many of you are very concerned and praying for me.  It means so much to know that you're beside me in prayer.  Now the prayers need to be directed in a bit of a different direction- for wisdom, guidance, and answers.  And of course, for healing. 

In the meantime, the doctor's orders included that my mother pamper me. I'm taking full advantage of that order :)  Really though, I'm so so very thankful that I'm home feeling this miserable with my wonderful parents taking care of me and that I'm finally in the hands of a good medical professional.  I'm missing Zambia every day, however, and sad for the plans I had to cancel this month.

I know that the Lord has good things in store during this trial (He promises us good! :) ).  Some of that good will surely include seeing some of you :)  However, with the way I'm feeling, I appreciate your patience in waiting till I'm significantly recovered...which the timing is of course very uncertain... I really dont think you want to watch me sleep anyway :)

Very gratefully Dr Shelly is keeping a close watch on me, and I have another appointment with him on Tuesday to go over the most recent lab results taken yesterday and discuss further testing.  So I'll keep you updated as things progress and as my energy allows.  Thanks for praying! God has answered so many prayers throughout this last week, I know he will continue to do so.

Prince Gilbert

Prince Gilbert is a frog.  When I arrived in Zambia, he was living in my bathroom.  After a few weeks of having this regular guest in my shower, I decided he needed a name.  Anne of Green Gables was the most recent love story I had been watching and therefore Gilbert Blithe the most recent 'prince' character in my life.  Therefore, Prince Gilbert the Frog.  He's disappeared recently, I suspect the rainy season and large quantity of insects have drawn him out into the real world.  But for a few months, he provided a great photography subject... as well as someone to talk to :)  This blog post is in his honor. 

Survival Skills

Living in the bush requires that you learn particular survival skills which would put Bear Grills to shame.  For my Zambian neighbors, especially those in the remote villages, this statement is far truer than it is for me.  The survival skills which I have learned are, in reality, merely how I have learned to maintain a relative level of Western comfort and luxury in a remote, third world setting.  I’d like to pass on these survival skills to you.

FOOD

                Some of you may have images of me creeping through the bush, spear in hand, searching for antelope and other beasties to munch on.  Though this sounds like a fun adventure, my hunting and gathering isn’t quite so primitive. 

                The grocery store at which we do our shopping is four hours away.  Because of the distance and the cost of gas we usually only go to the store once a month.  This means that we have to creatively shop for a month’s supply of food, transport it for four hours in 110F heat, and then make it last until the next shopping trip. 

                For the most part, I’m eating everything I could ever want. Most of my meals require more preparation than at home since prepared/frozen food is limited in comparison to what Wegman’s offers.  But it is probably far healthier anyway. 

                We bring a cooler to transport our frozen/cold food.  Always buy at least one frozen meat or vegetable package so that it keeps the other cold items cold for the four hour journey.  (This is surprisingly very successful).

 Keeping produce can be tricky in the heat.  Make sure you open, wash, and store vegetables in cold water immediately upon arrival at home.  This will help it to last longer, though you will likely be searching in Jembo for fresh produce about two weeks into the month. 

Buy multiple smaller bottles of mayonnaise rather than one big jar.  With the power going out regularly, the mayonnaise is the first thing to go bad.  (Credit for the wisdom of this survival skill goes to Cindy)

                Milk is purchased in 1 Liter boxes.  It is stored without any kinds of preservatives, and likely produced without any added hormones, making it much healthier.  It is stored at Ultra High Temperatures meaning that it won’t go bad until the box is opened.  I keep about 15 boxes of milk in my dresser drawer. 

                Juice is also bought in boxes, again about 15 at a time.

                I’ve learned a new appreciation for the statement, “The best thing since sliced bread.” Sometimes, the store is out of sliced bread.  So I’m beginning to master the art of slicing bread.  Easier said than done.  The bread we buy is all baked right there in the store, meaning it’s all very fresh without preservatives.  Probably a thousand times healthier than any bagged bread Wegman’s has to offer, but also a thousand times more crumbly. 

Chocolate must always be on hand.  It must also always be kept in the refrigerator so as to maintain its shape. 

ELECTRICITY

The power goes out regularly here.  When I first arrived this usually only happened about once or twice a week for just a couple of hours.  Now that the rainy season is here, we are having more frequent outages that can last nearly all day or all night.  You never realize how much you depend upon electricity until you are without it. 

Always keep your computer plugged in when the electricity is on.  This ensures that you’ll have a full battery charge if and when the power does go out.  Computer usage during a power outage must always be for business, not for pleasure, so that you save the battery for the necessities.

Be very sad that you cannot use your fans in the very hot heat, and then be very thankful that at least you can when the power works.  The same goes for your washing machine. 

I am blessed to have running water in my house.  Most of my neighbors rely on a hand pump, and the not too distant villages rely upon holes in the ground. However, running water doesn’t run without electricity.  So, always keep water stored up.  I have bottles, buckets, and jugs of all sizes filled up and ready for a long power outage.  You’ll need water on hand for drinking, dish-washing, toilet-flushing, and yes even bathing.  Be prepared.

Always keep a mental picture of what you have in your fridge and where it is.  Before you open your fridge, make a very careful decision of what you need.  Open the fridge as little as possible during a power outage, especially during the day when it is hot as this will quickly make the inside of your fridge warm.  When necessary, transfer dairy and meat items to the freezer. 

Know where your candles, matches, and flashlights are.  When the power goes out at night, it will be absolutely pitch black.  Unless you’re blessed with a full moon, it will be nearly impossible to see anything at all.  So, you must know where these items are so that you can stumble around and find them in the dark. 

CREEPY CRAWLIES

                This is Africa.  There are bugs.  Buy a fly swatter (or three) and get over it.   (And make sure you clean up all food crumbs at the end of the day so you don’t attract more!)

HEAT

                It’s hot.  We had a stretch of a couple weeks where it was consistantly above 100F, regularly around 115-120.  Usually, it cools off some at night, but when it was this hot it did not.  The heat is physically and emotionally exhausting.  (Certainly doesn’t help anything if you have malaria!) So, you’ve gotta learn how to beat the heat.

                Take multiple cold showers during the day.  Especially right before bed.  Lowering your body temperature this way will help maintain your sanity.

                Drink lots of water.  I’m drinking about a gallon and a half of liquid a day. (So thankful the tap water is safe to drink!)  And eat salty foods.  High sodium is not a fear in this heat when you’re sweating out buckets of water throughout the day. 

                Using the fans at the end of the day to blow the hot air OUT of the apartment is more effective than trying to use them to suck the cold air in. 

                Stay inside during the hottest part of the day.  Use the oven or stove as little as possible.  Take every opportunity to eat one of Cindy’s frozen banana smoothies.  (Yum!)

                Pray for rain. 

                When you’re lying in bed at night not able to fall asleep because it is so hot, get a wet washcloth and rub it all over your body.  When the washcloth quickly becomes hot because your body temperature is so high, get ice cubes from the freezer.  Hold the ice cubes in your arm pits for as long as you can bear.  Do your best to fall asleep.

Now you are prepared. J

Malaria

Malaria.  Since it’s consumed such a big part of my time here, I’ve decided it deserves a blog post.  But trust me, I have nothing nice to say about it.

Malaria is pretty much miserable.  I’ve learned a lot about it since I contracted it the first time, so I assume most of you know as much about it as I did before I came.

This is what I knew about malaria before I came:

-Malaria is a disease contracted by mosquito bites, found all over the tropical world.

-People of all ages die from malaria every day.

-Malaria is the #1 killer in Africa.

-When you travel to “at-risk” areas, you should always take a preventative medicine. 

-Sleeping under mosquito nets and using bug spray are also good preventatives.

This is what I learned about malaria since I’ve had it:

                -Malaria is a parasite which lives inside the mosquito.  When the mosquito bites you, the parasite is transferred to your blood stream. 

                -After you have been bitten, the parasite will multiply INSIDE of your red blood cells.

                -You won’t show symptoms of malaria for 7-10 days after being bitten.

                -When the parasite has multiplied so many times in a blood cell, the cell will burst.  This allows the newly multiplied parasites to enter into other red blood cells. 

                -This red-blood-cell bursting cycle happens every three days.  On the day that the cells burst, you will feel miserable.  Then the next day you’ll feel stronger, and the third day you’ll feel fine.  The cycle starts over again on the 4^th day.  This is why so many people wait too long to be treated. Malaria is tricky since it makes you only feel sick for one day, and then better for two. 

                -Your body cannot build immunity to malaria.  The reason being is that the parasite implants itself INSIDE the blood cell.  The white blood cells do not know there is a foreign body until the parasite has multiplied too many times.   Thankfully, your body can build a resistance to the effects/symptoms of malaria- making you stronger with each contraction.

                -The medicine they put you on to kill the malaria is very strong.  Essentially what it does is kill the blood cells which are hosting the malaria.  For the three days that you take the medicine you will feel worse than before.  Basically, you’re losing a LOT of blood.

                -Everyone’s body reacts to the malaria differently, giving a variety of different symptoms.  My symptoms are:  Extreme exhaustion, weakness, dizziness, half-nausea half-hunger, achiness, head ache, head-pressure (your brain actually swells), apathy, oh and did I mention being tired?  I’ll sleep for hours on end during the day and still wake up exhausted, head spinning…

                -Since you lose so much blood, it takes about 28 days for your blood count to be back to normal.  Meaning that it takes a month for your body to fully recover. 

                -Getting tested is easy.  It’s a simple finger prick and a blood smear that costs only $4.  If I have any inkling that I have malaria, I get tested.  The problem is, if you get tested too early, the blood won’t have signs of malaria. 

                -If you do the math, my first diagnosis with malaria was confirmed on September 31^st. This means I contracted it after being here only about 2 weeks.  On Sunday October 30^th I woke up feeling like malaria, but I tested negative.  I was sure I had it on Wednesday when, after the tell-tale three day cycle, I puked up my breakfast.  Testing positive today, November 4^th, means that I contracted it for the second time at least two weeks ago.  Not even long enough for my body to fully recover from the first time. 

How do you cope?

-Malaria makes you crave sweet things.  So, you pamper yourself with sweet things. (Tonight I’m sitting with a tub of chocolate ice cream)

-Being sick away from home makes you homesick.  Feeling like you’re the sickest you’ve ever been VERY far away from home makes you VERY homesick.  So you do your best to connect with home.  (Things like snail mail can make the malaria blues go away pretty quick!)

-Watch dumb movies, sleep, watch more dumb movies, sleep, eat, watch more dumb movies…

I need your help.

Unfortunately, malaria and its lingering symptoms have been a part of 75% of my time here thus far. (Jet-lag covered the first 25%) And will continue throughout this next month as I recover yet again.  So, I’m asking for your help in getting me through.  Please pray for encouragement, strength, fast healing, and renewed motivation.  Please pray I don’t get it again.  Pray especially for protection against discouragement. (Our struggles are not against flesh and blood or blood sucking parasites…) Your prayers, emails and cards are truly sustaining me J THANK YOU!

Well, writing this made me feel better.  But now, I better go sleep…

zzzzzz

Death is a Part of Life.

Death is a part of life.

But in Africa, death is a far too regular part of life. 

The statistics of how many people, of all ages, who die every day in Africa is mind-numbing.

 

Malaria is the #1 killer. Not because it’s not treatable, but because people don’t have access to treatment or prevention.  Malaria frequently causes diarrhea, and for those people who don’t have access to clean water, dehydration along with the weakened body causes rapid death.

HIV/AIDs is traveling rampant across the continent. It is transported by the forces of naivety, cultural expectations, male-dominance, as well as through the innocent unborn. Millions of children are orphaned, and the cycle continues.

Water-borne illnesses plague those who don’t have access to clean water.  Because this is their only water source they blindly accuse evil spiritual forces.  It couldn’t be the water causing their village to die since this is the only water mother nature/god has given them.

This doesn’t include the ‘normal’ causes of death which people in developed countries face.

Since the day I arrived, people I have met or become friends with have been attending funerals.  Our morning devotionals at the Bible College regularly include praying for so and so who had to go to the funeral of their relative.  Brothers, sisters, aunts, uncles, fathers, mothers, cousins are dying. 

The fact that African families are large and tightly knit influences the regularity of funeral attendance, but it certainly does not justify the causes of these deaths.

This past week I had the privilege to be a part of the mourning of the death of my friend Ida’s father.  Ida and I had been working together cooking for a team of nursing students.  Her father died in the hospital at Zimba from cancer.  He was an older man.

The day that he died, I went with some of Ida’s friends and co-workers to visit her in their ‘funeral home.’  I didn’t have any idea what to expect, and I was nervous, so I invited Judy to come with me. (The nursing team leader)  When I was told we were going to the funeral home, I expected a separate building or church, but instead we arrived at Ida’s home compound. 

There were about five well-kept huts at her home, likely very well taken care of by her father the family’s patriarch, for many years.  The men were sitting outside near one hut on chairs.  I followed the lead of the women to go into a small room where the women were gathered.  Everyone removed their shoes at the door, though for whatever reason they told me and Judy not to! The women were sitting on the floor, backs pressed against the wall with their legs stretched out and crossed in front of them. We knelt down and silently greeted each woman with a hand shake.  I sat down next to Ida, and followed the lead of everyone else by staring at my feet. 

We sat in silence.  It was heavy silence. Sad silence.  Empty thunder rumbled outside.  I felt my heart well with grief for this family and wished that the women were wailing as I had expected them to be.  The silence was too much for me.

More mourners came in and greeted us in the same fashion and sat down in silence. 

Thankfully, one of the women I came with, Brenda, began singing hymns. Others joined in. Brenda is a pastor’s wife and is well trained to present the gospel.  She began preaching in Tonga.  Though I could only understand a few words, it was unmistakably a call to repentance and a message in the hope of the eternal salvation of Jesu Christu. 

After another woman prayed, we left the room.  Outside we greeted Ida’s mother.  She was sitting near a small straw thatched structure where I could just make out the blanket bound corpse of her husband.   We sat down for a few minutes out of respect for her mother, and then prepared to leave.  Even as we were leaving, dozens of mourners were arriving, likely having walked for miles to give their condolences. 

It is tradition here to give gifts to the families of those who have lost a loved one.  Usually this would include maize for making nshima and other food items.  With so many family members gathering from far and wide, extra food makes the several days of mourning more functional. As her employer, I gave Ida a financial gift equivalent of about $20. 

The mourning time will last for a few days before the burial.  Death is a regular occurrence.  People are very close with each other and their families.  Because of these two facts, people are constantly attending funerals such as this one. 

Death is a (regular) part of life…

But so is hope. 

And, somehow, my resilient Zambian friends are full of it. 

Bumps in the Road

The roads are bumpy here.  Any time you go off the main highways, you can travel on dirt roads for hours in any direction heading further and further into the bush.  The further you drive the more lost you can get since everything looks the same.  When we make trips on the dirt roads, including the one that takes us to our home in Jembo, we do our best to enjoy the ride.  Singing songs, playing music on our IPods, and telling stories of home keep our minds and bodies focused on things other than the constant jostling.  When we start approaching the paved highway, those last few feet of slow slow bumps can feel like the longest.  But once the land cruiser pulls itself over the curb and onto the highway, we can’t help but give a little cheer and a big sigh of relief. After that, it is usually smooth sailing for a while and we can finally relax and fall asleep. (I’ve somehow managed to fall asleep on the bumpy roads too!)

These are the literal bumps in the road that we face here in Zambia.  But there’s a lot of metaphorical ones too J Plans are constantly changing. Plan B quickly turns into plans X, Y, and Z.  When my parents ask me a “what are you doing this weekend” question, I usually answer with, “I’ll tell you after it happens!”  A few big bumps this month have included the often unbearable heat and getting malaria. 

I spent this past week hosting a team of nursing students from Indiana Wesleyan University.  The whole week felt like one big long bumpy road.  My role was to prepare breakfast for the team of 22 people and supervise/help prepare the other meals with our hired cook, Ida.  That in itself was going to be a new challenging experience for me, but I was ready to give it a try. 

The first day, Tuesday, the team was arriving for dinner, so Ida and I would have the whole day to prepare.  A glass coke bottle exploded, rocketing glass and sticky pop all over the inside of the fridge and all over our vegetables.  I lost the menu.  So Ida and I had to sit down and try to recreate it from memory.  The vegetables I had bought only a few days before had already gone bad and moldy despite sitting in the cold fridge.  (The 110F heat contributed to this problem) So Ida and I had to go to the market to find more vegetables. Despite all of this, the first meal was a success and every stomach was happy and satisfied.  Looking back, I thought there were some bumps in the road that day but I had no idea what the next few days would bring. 

Wednesday went by without any major problems.  That evening after dinner was finished, I prepared an overnight French toast dish.  All I would have to do in the morning is put it in the oven for an hour.  Since I was staying in a separate house from the main guesthouse I decided I would cook the French toast in my house so all I had to do was get up and stick it in the oven. Then I could get ready for the day before finishing the rest of breakfast preparations by 7AM.  When I stumbled out into the kitchen at 5:30 on Thursday, I tried to turn the oven on.  It wouldn’t work and I just couldn’t figure it out.  Thankfully, Google is an excellent resource. I felt proud of myself for searching for this specific brand oven, finding the user manual, and successfully turning the oven on.  The oven was on, the French toast was beginning to cook, and I had a half hour to head over to the main house and make coffee etc.  When I returned to retrieve the French toast, I found the oven off and the toast still cold and soggy. It was supposed to be served in 10 minutes.  Thankfully, I had eager helpers who assisted in frying the toast by hand on the stove. By the time everyone left at 8, everyone who wanted a bite of toast got some.

Friday’s breakfast was much less uneventful, but the day took a bad turn when we learned that Ida’s father had died during the night.  She would be leaving us for the rest of the trip to be with her family during their time of mourning.  The next few meals were going to require a decent amount of preparation and they were meals I had never really cooked before. Especially not for 22 people.  Thankfully, the team was flexible.  They had great servant hearts and were eager to help cook and clean throughout the day.

The week was HOT. Being in the kitchen cooking didn’t help at all.  Friday afternoon we had a glimmer of hope that the rains might come when big black clouds and a strong wind came our way.  The power went out (not an uncommon occurrence) just after we had finished preparing dinner.  Candles were lit, and positive attitudes brought out for a few hours without power.  A few hours turned into going to bed without power.  It was hot in our bedrooms. No power meant no fans. The ladies I was staying with decided to pull our mattresses onto the living room floor in front of the screen door so we could have some fresh air. It took forever to fall asleep with the heat, and my mind was racing with thoughts of all the food we had for the next two days going bad without any refrigeration. 

I woke up in the morning at 5:30. Power still out.  My fears were quickly confirmed that the wind blew down power lines and it would be an unknown amount of African time before the power came back on.  (Did I mention that this ‘storm’ never actually delivered any rain?) Having the power go out in Zimba is worse than in Jembo.  In Jembo, we have gas stoves.  In Zimba, they are electric.  Meaning, there would be no cooking for our group of 22.  Not only that, but we woke up to absolutely no water pressure.  With this heat, drinking water is more than a necessity. (Pretty sure I’ve been drinking a gallon and a half a day!) Not only that, but one of the girls in the group had been violently sick all night long.  We needed to leave.  In about an hour’s scramble, transport was arranged, bags were packed, and we were on our way to Choma where the group has been staying in the World Hope guesthouse. 

When we arrived in Choma, it felt like we got off a very long bumpy road and were finally smooth sailing on pavement.  Through all of the bumps of the last few days, the group has been so helpful. In fact, I think they’re having fun preparing meals.  Being back on their ‘home turf’ makes them feel as though they should be hospitable to me, even though I’m still responsible for preparing their meals until tomorrow’s lunch.  They’re eager to help peel potatoes, and we’re going to get creative and make apple crisp.  Tomorrow’s pizza lunch should be the cherry on top of a very long week.

As I write this, there are still 3 meals left. I’m tired, and hot. But I’m writing this with the hope that the bumps are over, and we’ll have an uneventful 24 hours.  After my responsibilities are done, I’ll really give a little cheer and big sigh of relief.  Despite all this craziness this week, this group has been fantastic in helping each other and myself sing through it all. I really have had a great time playing ‘hostess’ and do look forward to the next time I have the opportunity to serve people this way.

Flexibility is our friend, Expectation is our enemy.  And we daily… no, hourly, are reminded: T.I.A.  This. Is. Africa.  Sometimes you just gotta learn to enjoy the bumpy roads J

Happy Zambian Independence Day!

Today Zambia celebrates 47 years of independence!  The country celebrates with a day of vacation, while I sit holed up alone in the Zimba mission house.  I'm hoping to experience something cultural today, but Zimba is a small town so my chances are small.  We'll see!  Here is some history about Zambia, courtesy of our good friends at Wikipedia... 

"After visits by European explorers starting in the 18th century, Zambia became the British colony of Northern Rhodesia towards the end of the nineteenth century. For most of the colonial period, the country was governed by an administration appointed from London with the advice of the British South Africa Company.

On 24 October 1964, the country declared independence from the United Kingdom and prime minister Kenneth Kaunda became the first head of state. Zambia was governed by Kenneth Kaunda of the socialist United National Independence Party (UNIP) from 1964 until 1991. From 1972 to 1991 Zambia was a one-party state with UNIP the sole legal political party. From 1991 to 2002, Zambia was governed by president Frederick Chiluba of the social-democraticMovement for Multi-Party Democracy during which the country saw a rise in social-economic growth and increased decentralisation of government. Levy Mwanawasa was the third President of Zambia. He presided over the country from January 2002 until his death in August 2008. He is credited with having initiated a campaign to rid the country of corruption, and increasing standards of living from the levels left by Frederick T.J. Chiluba"

-After Levy Mwanawasa died, his vice president Rupiah Banda took office.  The recent election in September placed Michael Sata in office as the fifth president. 

The green base of the flag represents the country's vegetation and natural wealth.  The red stripe represents Zambia's struggle for independence.  Black represents the people of Zambia. Orange stands for the nation's mineral wealth, especially copper.  The eagle represents freedom and the history of the people's strength in rising above many adversities.  

This flag was adopted on October 24, 1964- Zambia's first day of independence from Britain. This was also the day that 'Northern Rhodesia' became 'Zambia'.  

In my short time here so far, it is evident to me that Zambia is a country aimed at progress.  There are signs of construction everywhere. The general attitude towards the future is one of hope and perseverance towards development.  There is a long way to go, but they are headed in the right direction.  Today I celebrate with Zambia in their perseverance through many political trials to become the country that I love today, and pray along with them for their continued development.  

Timothy's first trip to the falls (not Niagara...)

The pictures tell the story... :)  

We made him walk with his eyes closed so his first glimpse of the falls would be  at the first viewing point.

Timothy has always lived in small villages in the bush. I cant imagine what this moment felt like,
but his reaction tells it all!

It is the driest part of the dry season, so the falls have barely any water going over.
We walked right along the edge of the falls! 

Why I'm Here...

The students at Pilgrim Wesleyan Bible College are the reason I am here.  A common phrase I said during support raising was that I hoped to play a small part in equipping the pastors of Zambia to better spread God’s joy throughout Zambia, Africa and the world.  I am daily reminded that my part in all of this is quite small. 

Here’s the breakdown of the student body:

- There are 26 students. 

-24 men, and 2 women. 

-10 first years, 7 second years, and 9 third years. 

-The two women are single, one widowed and one a single 22 year old.

-There are 11 single men.  The rest are married with families.

-The wives of the married students have a daily program of study here as well (more on that later)

-The age range of the students is from 20-64.

-Education level is varied.  They have completed anywhere from grade 6 to grade 12.  The wives have education anywhere from none to grade 8, with just a few having completed grade 12. 

These are students who have been called by God.  They are each individually gifted with passions and abilities that already shine through their daily lives.  They have a level of Biblical Literacy which is far beyond the average American believer.  Even the first year students know scripture inside out and backwards before they have begun their studies at the college.

Their faith inspires me daily.  To become a pastor in Zambia is a huge sacrifice.  A pastor’s salary is provided by the church’s tithes.  In a country where the parishioners have an income of next to nothing, pastors and their families survive on the scraps of what their congregations are able to give.  Several of the students here have answered God’s call to the ministry, leaving behind much higher and more comfortable positions in business management and even computer programming.  Several have brought shame to their extended family by entering the ministry, going against secular cultural expectations.  Their level of faith and sacrifice is humbling. I know that my own sacrifice to be here pales in comparison to the trials which they and their families will face. 

Like most Africans, these students each have stories of persevering through and overcoming the adversities of their socio-economic class.  In our first discipleship group meeting, each of the 7 students in my group gave a brief story about their background.  Some had stories of relatively comfortable upbringing in good Christian families while some had homes broken by divorce or the death of a parent.  David’s story was the most heart wrenching to me as he shared about being a double orphan, growing up on the streets begging for food and finding hope only in drugs and alcohol.  He was blessed to have a man take him in at age 12, allowing him to complete his schooling.  It wasn’t until 3 years ago that he became a Christian and soon after felt the call to ministry.  David, age 27, is now a promising young pastor with a fighting spirit. His whole life is evidence of God’s grace, love and redemption for each of his dear children. 

These are people who know what it means to have nothing.  They have felt the sting of hunger for the necessities of food, love, and acceptance. They have lost loved ones left and right due to incurable diseases and a poor medical system. Yet when you talk to them, you would never know it.  Their JOY is radiant.  They have come to know the secret of the Salvation of our Lord Jesus Christ and are filled to overflowing with the Spirit’s passion for living a life of sacrifice and worship. Laughter is a constant here, and gossip or arguing unheard of.  When asked what they are thankful for today, the first year’s answers were along the lines of, “For the Lord’s salvation.” “For the opportunity to live in and serve the Lord.”  Obby said, “I am thankful to be counted among the living.” In a land where they know death and suffering all too closely, these are people who embrace their God-given lives with hope, perseverance, and JOY. 

Each one of these students has quickly gained my respect and admiration.  They are already so close to my heart that I want to do everything I can to pour into their lives these next two years to help prepare them for the work the Lord has called them to.  Though there is definite value in the lessons we are teaching in Biblical exegesis and hermeneutics as well as the constant practice in preaching they do during their 3 years here, the Lord has already equipped and prepared them with gifts and passions and most importantly His Spirit.  Though they look at me with respect and authority as their foreign, well-educated lecturer, I see them with great humility.  They are teaching me lessons that go far deeper than anything academic I could offer them.

All of this deep emotional stuff only comes to my mind when I sit and reflect.  My usual interaction with the students involves a lot of laughter.  J

The students are here on scholarship.  The scholarship money comes from the States from individual and church sponsors.  To sponsor a student and their family is $100 a month.   Each month, the students are given a $40 allowance.  This is used towards food, clothing, their children’s school fees and any other necessities.  For some families, this $40 is spread thin between two parents and anywhere from 1 to 8 children.  The other $60 is put towards boarding costs, the staff salaries, grounds maintenance, and other tuition fees.  If the money is short, this doesn’t mean that a student isn’t allowed to come to college.  What does happen in a budget deficit however is each family is given an equal but lesser amount of their monthly income of $40.  In this case, choices will need to be made in the family.  Do we eat less food as a family?  Does Junior go without schooling for the term?  Sacrifices are made. 

Currently we have a budget deficit of $11,000, meaning that approximately 9 students aren’t sponsored.  Many of you have been asking about other ways you can be supporting my ministry here at the Bible College.  If there were any way you could do something further than the ways you have already supported me, it would be to donate money to the student fund.  Even in situations where we have a surplus of funds coming from the States, that money is always put to good use.  There are always repair projects to be done, and many big dreams for new buildings for housing and schooling. 

If you’re interested in sponsoring a student for the $100 monthly donation, you would be partnered with them for 3 years.  The students write to their sponsors regularly (a good way to practice their English!) and your favorite missionary will be glad to send photos and stories J  Otherwise, one-time donations are always more than welcome.  A dollar goes a LONG way here, so every little bit you give makes a big difference. 

If you would like to make a donation you can contact Global Partners and ask to make a donation or begin sponsorship for the “Pilgrim Wesleyan Bible College Zambia Scholarship Fund”. 

You can find contact info here:  www.wesleyan.org/gp

Thank you for the many ways you are already supporting these future church-leaders. As always, your prayers for them as they face many challenges, both inside the classroom and in everyday life, are the best way to support them.  J

Picture post :)

cuties at the compound :)

The first year students with their brand new dictionaries

The third years

Henny's chicks have hatched!

Some of us went to "The Mountain" to pray on the morning of the elections. 

Timothy

Let me introduce you to my friend Timothy.

Timothy is 18 years old.  He is the son of a recently graduated bible college student.  After his father graduated, Timothy stayed behind so he could finish his schooling at Jembo High School. 

The Helvie’s have hired Timothy to care for their huge vegetable garden, which he does with consistent skill and care.  He also stays at the Helvie’s house when they are away, so as to protect the house from burglars.  Timothy also takes good care of Bibbi the dog, and Dusty the cat.  Bibbi follows Timothy everywhere and will seek him out whenever she can. At night, Timothy often has to bring Bibbi back to her proper home. She likely sees him as her closest owner.  In all these ways, Timothy is a trustworthy part of the family.

Timothy is in grade 12 at Jembo High School, about a mile’s walk from the Bible college campus.  To make it to grade 12 in Zambia is an achievement in itself since many students have to drop out of school for various reasons.  Some of these reasons include the following: For girls, the most common reason is they have to stay home to care for their younger siblings.  Some become young mothers and wives themselves at this tender age. Most girls don’t reach high school.  Many youth are forced to leave school to help with the family farm during harvest.  You have to pay for school here, so if a family cannot afford to send their many children (an average of 8 per family) to school, plus feed and clothe them and pay for their home, many children will have to drop out at an early age.  If they even so much as cannot buy their school uniform and work-books, they cannot attend.  I have heard a statistic that only 30% of Zambians finish grade 12.

Timothy is in grade 12.  He made it this far because he is very smart.  He’s been awarded scholarships that pay for his tuition, leaving him still with the fees of uniform and books to work for himself. 

From the start, Timothy struck me as a soft-spoken and intelligent young man.  Our first night in Jembo, he joined us for dinner.  I prodded him with some questions about his interests, to which he answered with a grin, “Science and math are my life.”

Jembo high school has begun their class sessions for this 8 week term, however over the last two weeks class has been few and far between.  Students are coming from all over the country to this boarding school, and finding transport is very difficult and expensive.  So Timothy’s upper level classes have not been in session.  This term, Timothy should be taking Geometry, Physics and Chemistry.  The school has been without a Chemistry teacher for three terms, so he won’t be able to take this class. 

Despite the disorganization of the school, Timothy is still eager to learn.  When he’s not tending to his many chores, he can be found with his nose deep in text books. He is teaching himself Chemistry, using a basic chemistry text book he came across.  And since his classes aren’t meeting, he is also teaching himself from his Physics and Geometry books. 

Saturday afternoon Timothy came knocking at my door wondering if I could help him with his science. Inviting him in with a glass of iced tea, I gladly assisted him.  Our afternoon turned out to be more of a refresher course for me as he recited and thought through the things he was discovering in his books.  He is fascinated with Chemistry, currently discovering about the states of matter and very perplexed by the concept of Pressure.

As I made feeble attempts at explaining pressure, we began to rabbit trail from pressure to air pressure to gravity to the Sun’s gravitational pull all the way through the solar system and back to earth to discover tectonic plates and volcanoes and the earth’s core.  Shelagh’s work of grating an onion brought us back to discussing molecules as we felt these onion molecules burn our eyes and nose. Two very fast hours of discussion later our minds were tired but very stimulated. 

During our discussion we came across scientific mysteries of the Sun’s core and black holes and other such things.  At those points, Timothy would get a sparkle in his eye and exclaim, “I’ll be the one to figure it out!” His dream is to have his own ‘laboratory’ surrounded by textbooks so that he can help make medicines.  He hopes to be a ‘Christian scientist’ influencing the world of science with his passionate faith. 

As he shared his dreams with me I encouraged him that his great determination and intelligence would take him far if he stayed motivated. With a stifled smile, He responded with, “I can hope.”

Yes Timothy, you can hope.  And I can hope for you too.  His well-worn clothes and decaying, gapped teeth remind me of his socioeconomic status which keeps him bound to a feeble education system and a struggle to survive.  I have no doubt that, given the right means; Timothy could make his way to the top of the scientific field.  Maybe Timothy could discover a cure for AIDS. 

How many other Timothy’s are there in the world?  Where would we be if all the minds as alert and gifted as his were given an equal opportunity to learn and succeed?

I offered to help Timothy every Saturday with his math and science, and we agreed to a time.  But he looked at me with a smirk and said, “But sometimes there are nights when I am stuck on a problem and I cannot fall asleep because I’m trying to figure it out!” I told him we could make special exceptions for those problems J

I’m grateful for the opportunity to help Timothy.  To feed his knowledge and passion with a part of my own education that might otherwise have gone to waste, and encourage his spirit to continue pursuing his goals. Besides, it is really fun for me too J

Here I am with Timothy after successfully cutting down a stalk of bananas :) 

A Week in the Life...

The structure of a class schedule has always been one my Type A personality enjoys. It is more comfortable to me to know what to expect day by day. As a missionary we are taught to be flexible, always expect the unexpected.  Thankfully, my weekly schedule is fairly stable, though it does have a lot of room for flexibility.

Weekday mornings begin the same for me.  At 6 AM Cindy and I meet up to go for a two mile run on the dirt road followed by a nice cold shower and breakfast. Then, everyone meets for devotionals at 7:30 in the chapel.  

The students have class each day from 7:45-12:30, four fifty minute periods with ten minute breaks in between.  Each class level is taking 6 classes.  The first years have their own classes, while the second and third years are combined.  This means that there are 12 classes being taught by 3 lecturers. Currently, I am observing/co-teaching three classes, as well as teaching beginning English class for the wives program. 

From 12:30-2 is a rest period for everyone.  This is the hottest part of the day, and is a perfect time for preparing and eating lunch and taking a nap!

From 2-3 the students have work period where they are given assignments to take help care of the campus.

In the afternoons I have different things scheduled for each day.  Mondays and Thursdays from 3-4:30 I meet with the choir to practice for our chapel services which are on Tuesday and Friday morning from 9:30-11.  On Tuesdays and Fridays Mrs. Sinabanza comes to clean our apartment around 2, so we stay home to be there while she does this.  (I’m thankful to be able to help her by giving her paid work!) Tuesdays from 4-5:30 the four mazungus (white people) meet with Mr. Sinabanza (a 3rd year student) for our Tonga lessons.  On Wednesdays and Fridays I meet with Mr. Ndune (a third year student) from 1-2 to help him with his English. On Wednesdays from 3-4:30 the wives meet for bible study. Then from 5-6 the students meets with their discipleship groups, which is a small group bible study consisting of lecturers and students.  On Fridays from 3-5 we have mandatory games where we play football and volleyball. 

This schedule makes for a busy week! But I find that there is always a lot of good down time.  I’ve been filling my time with lesson planning, cooking, Tonga practicing, napping, guitar practicing, reading, and blog writing.  When time allows I make my way up to the student compound to visit with the student’s families. 

Though this is what is scheduled for my week, there hasn’t been a week yet where something hasn’t been changed!  Sometimes classes are rescheduled for a different day if one of the lecturers is away.  We have gone away on the weekends a few times, leaving Friday afternoon and returning Saturday, which adds to the business of the week.  So I think I’m in a happy medium of having a well-structured schedule that still requires good missionary flexibility J 

Football

The value of sports as a bridge between cultures was introduced to me on my first overseas mission trip to Ethiopia.  Our method of ministry was soccer. Using the universal language of ‘football’ allowed for relational and ministry communication and connection that was otherwise impossible due to language and cultural barriers. Many miraculous salvations and encounters with the Spirit occurred during this week of sports ministry.

Here at PWBC the students have a mandatory ‘games’ period on Friday afternoons.  This is a time to let loose at the end of a rigorous week of study.  The men play football (soccer) alternating with volleyball on opposite weeks, while the wives play netball (an African game I still need to learn).  This past Friday was our first day for games.  At 3:00 the coach, who is an elected upper-year student, blew his whistle in the middle of campus signaling that it was time for games to begin.  The students began coming out of their homes from all over campus, and we headed to the soccer field. I made sure to ask permission that it was ok for a girl to play J

When we arrived at the field, students were given some tools to dig out the biggest bushes which were growing in the center of the field.  Otherwise, we would play dodging smaller bushes, cow pies, and rocks.  The students were split into teams by their class level, one team comprising of all the first years and the other with both second and third years.  I was eagerly accepted to the first year’s team, the class level I’ve been working with the closest.  Students were given shorts to change into if they needed them, and a short-supply of cleats was distributed evenly between the teams.  Our team was elected to have the jerseys- old t-shirts.  Keeping to our modesty codes, I kept my skirt on. 

The game began, and I could tell I was up for a good challenge.  Despite being undernourished, some barefooted, tired from a long week of class and an exceptionally hot afternoon, the students put up a good game.  Being the only girl on the field, I had to work hard keep up with these young and fit men.  My status as ‘Lecturer’ doesn’t leave me even on the football field, and I got a good chuckle out of my teammates shouting, “Madam, that’s your ball!” I built up their confidence in me throughout the game as I got my foot on the ball a few times, bringing it close to the goal.  Our team lost. But the score of 1-0 showed that we kept up a good fight. At the end of the game, the coach, with a smile, nominated me, “Man of the game.” J

Relational barriers were definitely broken by my getting into the game.  The next time I saw my teammates after church on Sunday, I was greeted by each of them with a grin and a traditional Zambian handshake.  Up until this point, many of the students have been hesitant to use the Zambian handshake with me, which to me feels like a hesitation of friendship.  However, this Sunday each one of them gave me a gripping grin and Zambian handshake.  We were even able to commiserate together about our sore muscles, many of them encouraging me with words like, “you are very strong” and “you are a true footballer.”

Sports ministry is an avenue of ministry which is seeping into mission fields around the world.  To some this may seem like an unconventional form of ministry, especially when compared to traditional forms of missions.  In my experience, using sports can be the fastest way to break down cultural barriers to form close friendships; creating a bridge to then share the love and gospel of Christ.  And, despite my Zambian friend’s humble encouragement of their ‘madam’, you don’t have to be athletic to do it J 



SOO thirsty!