Log Bridge

Saturday was log-moving day and the local leaders coordinated work to somehow improve the bridge. Until one man got seriously injured, the work progressed. Once he was taken away, everyone lost heart and the log stayed in its place on the ground about 100 feet from the river gap. This was our problem solving example in the teaching to take place the next week.

Oh how I wish they would have finished the upgrade. This bridge was nerve wracking to cross. Children cross in the water, people with loads cross in the water, helpers are available to walk you across if so desired. I can’t figure out why they don’t just nail up a railing or drag that last log another 100 feet. Perhaps my problem solving exercise should have had a hands-on component J

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Welcome Party

“You take that,” Pastor Mike said as the local pastor handed over welcome gifts from the church. Apparently handling live chickens isn’t his thing. I don’t blame him, remember Maude? I didn’t make an icky face this time though…even when one chicken started pecking at my nail polish.

The warm greeting from the Berean Church of Kitindi and the various pastors preparing to attend the conference was precious. The ladies sang welcome songs – such beautiful harmonious voices – and Pastor prayed for our safe arrival and rest. I have come to cherish these African traditions – formal welcome ceremonies, gift giving, and singing. So rich with culture, so absent in America.

Pr Kizombo Jr., Pr Mike, Leslie

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Traveling to Kitindi (Day 2)

BRIDGES AND OTHER OBSTACLES

Not designed for vehicular traffic, several bridges went “crack”
as we passed over them…hmm…how to return.

We walked ahead without fear, and wondered how exactly
 the hot box would pass the next obstacle…and the next…and the next.

The true jungles of Congo were depleted of their former wildlife
but bamboo blockages remained in abundance.

THE SECOND STUCK

Friday, July 19 at 11:30 am

It was simply too easy to slide off the narrow wet rails left by some passing tractor and to get one end or the other hung up in the muck.

THE THIRD STUCK

Friday, July 19 at 12:00 pm

Notice this stuck was perhaps 5 minutes after we were finally released from the second. A trailer broke down and was left overnight, though it was still there upon our return. Our only option was to go around it, doing so, though, meant filling in a swamp. Of course, the swampy ground was much MUCH softer than anticipated…and there was a tree stump just below the surface. This was just all kinds of stuck that I didn’t even want to watch.

THE FOURTH STUCK

Friday, July 19 at 2:16 pm

Perhaps 5 minutes after the third stuck…we were stuck AGAIN. Notice how slick the clay is and the high spots were deceivingly soft and positioned in all the wrong places.

 We began thinking we might never get unstuck, or at least that we might not reach Kitindi before nightfall, and so sent ahead for three motorcycles. The idea was to send the guests and the muse (mosay or wise, respected man…Kizombo Sr.). An hour from the spot from which we sent the messenger, an hour to return, and an hour back to Kitindi would get at least a few of us to arrive before dark. Off I went on a motorcycle.

Now…before I tell you this next part…I must say something as a pre-defense of what is to come. I grew up on motorcycles. Dad had one, boyfriend had one, I had one. I’ve ridden boda-bodas more than 10,000 times in traffic and on roads that were pretty dangerous in and around Kampala. I’ve even driven myself in the outskirts areas. What happens not 50 feet from where we began? I got dumped. Yep, the motorcycle slid off a high spot and we bit the dust. Kizombo Sr. then demanded I get back in the truck. Good thing I love him so much…or I’da argued in fierce protection of my pride. (Sorry, I was too busy falling to take a picture.)

The hot box and the motorcycles kept time together and finally a walking bridge (two logs sprawled across a deep river gap) presented itself before us. Wobbling our way across that bridge and up, up, up to Kizombo Sr’s home, the neighborhood children greeted us from afar. This journey wore us all down, but…wait till you hear about the return trip.

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Traveling to Kitindi (Day 1)

(Yes…Day 1)

The voluptuous Chain of Mitumba mountain range allowed intrusive driving paths to wind around its hills and valleys. The sometimes rocky roads would make for an easy propellant…over cliff edges. The 10 hour trip was broken by our first stop under that mango tree next to the lonely church. Encouraged by the roads thus far, though rough and dusty – the dust piles up in inches like snow and children kick through that fine powder as if it were snow – the remainder of our journey can only be described in pictures.

A SIGN OF THINGS TO COME

Someone else's stuck truck.

Don't slide off the edge.

This guy came around the corner and had the choice of either
hitting us head on or over correcting for the curve.
He over corrected and wiped out on the gravel...into the water.

THE FIRST STUCK

Thursday, July 18 at 12:38 pm

Not-so-affectionately referred to as “The Pit,” several trucks lined up behind us waiting to get their turn. Bottomed out and hung up, the driver immediately behind us refused to help. The next driver lent his cable, which snapped twice. People gathered and instructed and finally a shovel replaced our machete as the digging tool. After some talk about the competency of the driver – who could do little other than play bumper cars in this pit – the giant Mercedes truck also got stuck. This “stuck” lasted for about an hour and a half.

Look carefully at the ridge to the left...below that lies The Pit!

After about 1.5 hours we were unstuck and it was the next truck's turn to get stuck.

NYAMIBUNGU HOSPITAL

Thursday, July 18 at 6:19 pm

Delayed starts and The First Stuck resulted in the decision to put up at Nyamibungu Hospital for the night. The hospital looked deserted, but Kizombo Jr. was familiar with its grounds and its caretakers. Apparently this isn’t the first time the 10 hour trip turned into a two day trip. The caretakers graciously put us up for the night as the rain and the darkness set in (oh…the roads). The journey thus far was described as…the easy part.

Here, however, is where we were scheduled to take motorcycles to the end destination, an estimated six hours. Though, having heard that a truck made the entire journey in 10 hours just the week before, we’d already decided to complete the entire journey with the truck.

Now...go back to the top and look at the pictures again. Though we spent lots of time stuck, I also stood in awe of the majesty that surrounded us. Lush green hillsides filled the landscape at our various stucks. The scenery was breathtaking! I thank God for the reminder of his ever presence amidst every circumstance!

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The Hot Box

The Hot Box, driven by François (Frank), was to be loaded and on the road by 5:00 am thus allowing us to reach our 300 km (186 m) destination in about 10 hours. As is seemingly an all-Africa tradition, various delays resulted in setting out at 8:00 am. Given the estimated duration, we ought to reach Kitindi by 6:00 pm…just before dark sets in…ought to.

The Hot Box was loaded both inside and out, with Kizombo Sr. insisting that the most luxurious seat be taken by me, though at last he relented and took that spot himself after about four hours of jostling and jolting. We were finally ready to go.

Pr Mike, Kizombo Jr., and I were ready to go at 5:00 am.

Pepito, Pr. Mike, Simone, Kizombo Sr., Leslie, Julianne, Kizombo Jr., Pr Norbert

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Dollies for Pasquale and Mapendo from Krissy

A lonely church building stands atop a hill overlooking the picturesque Chain of Mitumba mountains in eastern Congo. The mountains are part of the East African Rift and rise to 3,308 m (10,853 ft) – about halfway between the heights of the Great Smokey Mountains and the Rocky Mountains.

Under the shade of its barren mango tree, two children looked on as seven Congolese and two American faces spilled out of the hot box onto the dust-laden grass. These were not the first children I found in Congo, but they were the first on the journey to our end destination. That they happened to be a boy and a girl, as the first sponsor for Congolese dollies had intended, was no coincidence. This place was not packed with children clamoring for food or money, let alone ANY other people. Pasquale and Mapendo stood quietly alone…watching. That is how I knew.

Pulling the boy and girl dollies out of my overstuffed bag, they could finally take a deep breath. I approached the children cautiously as many children run away because stories of white people masquerading as officials led to abductions and hangings. Pasquale and Mapendo accepted their gift with some observable caution as Kizombo Jr. translated my short message about the love of Jesus. They allowed me a short squeeze before we released them to return to their duties. 

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Kizombo Sr. and Leslie Reunited

At Rwanda Exit

Perched precariously atop my head, like so many African women do, I moved with my giant duffle. After getting the green light to leave Rwanda, I dumped that heavy bag on a desk sitting randomly in the “yard.” As I waited and watched for Kizombo Jr. and Pr Mike to pass through this checkpoint, a familiar voice greeted me…Rev. Kizombo Kalambula Sr.

Under the Mango Tree

I clung to this man whom I always loved so much. My heart was burdened that I’d never properly appreciated or respected him. At the time we were in school together, my heart toward missions was hard…I just didn’t understand and I really didn’t want to. So many things I didn’t understand then. But knowing what I know now about East African culture, I have a vastly different appreciation and respect for older African men…particularly this one who stands firm in Scripture.

In Class Together

Together again, this man treated me with such care and respect. I love him as my own father. Being a part of his ministry, if even for this short time, reminded me of all that he’d described so many years ago. I pray that our time together would never come to an end.

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Conflict in Congo

Take a look at BBCs profile on the country’s long history of conflict. Don’t forget to click the tabs at the top of the page. http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/world-africa-13283212

And look at some current information about fighting there and how that fighting impacts Uganda.  http://online.wsj.com/article/BT-CO-20130712-702938.html?mod=googlenews_wsj

 

The upper right corner shows the boarder between Uganda and Congo.
I will be ministering in Bukavu and Kitindi, the southern end of Lake Kivu.
Conflict is taking place at the northern end in Goma, this is where thousands of refugees are fleeing to Uganda.

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Democratic Republic of Congo

The CIAs World Factbook contains a plethora of information about countries all over the world. I find this tool particularly useful when learning about a new country in comparison to the United States. In conjunction with the other countries in which Surprised by Hope has had some activity, here is what I found.

	United States	Uganda	Kenya	DR Congo
Area	9,8m sq km (3)	241,038 sq km (81)	580,367 sq km (49)	2.3m sq km (11)
Population	316.7m	34.7m (36)	44m (31)	75.5m (10)
Religions	Protestant 51.3%, Roman Catholic 23.9%, Mormon 1.7%	Roman Catholic 41.9%, Protestant 42%	Christian 82.5% (Protestant 47.4%, Catholic 23.3%, other 11.8%), Muslim 11.1%, Traditionalists 1.6%	Roman Catholic 50%, Protestant 20%, Kimbanguist 10%
Median Age	37	15	19	18
Life Expectancy	79	54	63	56
Health Exp	18% GDP	9%	4.8%	7.9%
Water (improved)	100%	72% though not drinkable	59% though not drinkable	45% though not drinkable
HIV/AIDS	0.6% (62)	6.5% (8)	6.3% (11)	NA
Obesity	33%	4.3%	4.2%	1.7%
Education Exp	5.4% GDP	3.3% (134)	6.7%	2.5%
Literacy	99%	66%	87%	67%
Unemployment	8%	NA	40%	NA
Poverty	15%	25%	50%	71%

As expected, Uganda, Kenya, and Congo differ significantly in the various statistics when compared to the United States. However, when compared to one another, only a few elements are distinctly different.

1.      45% of the population in Congo have access to improved water systems (though not drinkable), as compared to 59% in Kenya and 72% in Uganda.

2.      71% of the population lives under respective poverty lines, as compared to 50% in Kenya and 25% in Uganda.

3.      1.7% of the population is considered obese, as compared to 4.2% in Kenya and 4.2% in Uganda (the US obesity rate is 33%).

As I prepare for my journey, it’s helpful to understand these differences and to prepare for what those differences will mean in teaching topics such as asset-based development. For example, lack of infrastructure may lead to the need to develop a closed economy, an economy that does not depend on delivery to a town center via roads that don’t exist.

Oh, please pray that God would help us all have the wisdom to answer their cries.

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Surprised by Hope in Congo

Rev. Kizombo Kalumbula Sr. was one of four members in my Cornerstone University Masters program learning team. This Congolese man never failed to share his experience related to our topic of study from the perspective of his home country. I remember learning about issues of justice, healthcare, and education from him. I also remember a time when he quietly left the room to take a phone call. When he returned he told the class that his son called to say that he loved his father and that he might not make it through the night because the fighting was just outside the doorway. It was then that I realized how little I really understood the world outside my doorstep.

A few short years ago I happened across a third member of that same learning team. After filling in the gaps about our lives since last meeting, including the part about ministry, he mentioned that he is now connected to Kizombo Sr.’s ministry and that he is working with Kizombo Jr. in doing so. Soon enough we all met at The Omelet Shoppe (oh how I miss the German apple pancake). Kizombo Jr. pastors Tabernacle Community Church in Grand Rapids and that church supports International Berean Ministries in Congo.

We’ve all felt some kind of connection between our ministry activities, but various roadblocks kept us from meeting on this vast continent. However, Kizombo Jr. and I both had the sense that the time is now. And of course God showed up and made schedules and finances available to make this journey. Together we’ll deliver ministry, prayer, teaching, and love.

So, why am I going to Congo? I’m going to serve God alongside an old friend and a new friend.

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Voice of Women Uganda

The power distance between men and women in East Africa is exceptional…and women understand that they are not to question the authority of men…or pretty much anyone. As an example, I might ask the women if meeting at 2:00 is a good time for them and they will most certainly say “yes”…then arrive at 4:00 because they were occupied at 2:00. It would not be culturally appropriate for these women to say “no” to someone they viewed as having more authority (but for some reason it’s perfectly acceptable to not fulfill your commitment.)

Back Row: Sam, Immaculate, Millie, Ham
Front Row: Meldah, Livingstone

As another example, a woman knew that her husband was sleeping with other women and suspected that he had HIV/AIDS. She feared confronting her husband and asking for a test because of the power distance factor in this culture. He could and would easily beat her for such a demand. Further, this woman cannot refuse her husband if he makes sexual advances…again because of the power distance. Ultimately, this woman (one among millions) will contract HIV/AIDS and die because of the power distance in this culture.

Voice of Women Uganda seeks to close the gap in the area of power distance. They’re not seeking to equalize or overtake men, they’re simply wishing to help women realize their voice as it pertains to issues of reproductive health, HIV/AIDS, education, and economic development. And alongside that voice, they strive to help men understand the value of partnership with their wives and the importance of their voice.

I’m honored to spend time in organizational development with Voice of Women Uganda and am thankful for the eye opening examples these leaders so readily share.

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Directions to Leslie's House

Hi Elizabeth and Emily, I heard you were looking for my house on Google. The last time I checked it wasn’t there. But I’ll try to show you on a map where you can find me when you come visit J

Google Entebbe Uganda as a Google map and then follow the road North or up. That road is called Entebbe Road and it’s one of about three main roads in Uganda. You’ll see Rosebud plantation as one of the key markers on the map a few inches up and to the right from Entebbe Road. As you zoom in to Rosebud, the above map shows the smaller roads. The corner or “stage” at which you’ll turn to the right is my road. Non-main roads here don’t have any names instead they have markers. For example, there are two signs at my road corner – Kennedy Primary School and Little Bears Kindergarten. So my corner or my “stage” is known as Kennedy stage. Until you become familiar with the markers sometimes it’s hard to find the right one…especially at night.

When I take a taxi, the main form of public transportation is a 14 passenger Toyota minivan or a “taxi,” and get close to my corner I say “Kennedy stage” or I say “massau” and the driver knows where to stop. Once I get off at the stage I can either walk about 1 kilometer (about .67 miles) to my house or take a boda-boda (a small motorcycle driver will drive me home). Usually I have heavy bags of food from the market or it’s dark and less safe so I take a boda-boda to my house. All the boda-boda drivers – usually men in their 20s – know me and where I live so they’re like little brothers to me. They watch out for me and help me when I need it.

Walk down the hill in the slippery-when-wet dusty road toward Rosebud and turn right at the end, then turn left immediately after that. The road you see on this map is not my road, it’s more of a big road so it’s on the map. My road is too small to show up and it’s before that road as you proceed to my house. But you can see the arrow where my house is. You’ll see my house really easily when you turn the corner because there’s lots of open green space in front of me. I live next door to a Hajj, a Muslim man with multiple wives, and he has a very big house for one of his families. Also, my house is painted the color of the red clay earth. Most people paint their houses bright colors – lime green, neon orange. So mine looks funny to everyone around here.

I have a big veranda or porch on the front and side of the house where the neighborhood kids come to “shade” or color in the coloring books you all sent me. We blow bubbles, play games, and read the Bible you sent too. Most of these children come from Muslim families so I’m always happy when they’re learning about how much Jesus loves them. A few days ago we all shared a watermelon but I made the kids go in the grass to eat that because I knew they’d make a huge sticky mess and I didn’t want all the ants to come for a visit.

Now you know how to find my house. When will you come visit me?

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Iganga Testimonies

And the people came...

Children filled the seats in this wall-less Praise and Worship Church of All Nations. I worried a bit until about an hour after we started a procession of people arrived. Keeping true Uganda time (i.e., LATE), they all came, and they came in droves. Pastor Gerald is learning how to mobilize the community and he is learning well. Over 50 people filled this little church during our second visit.

Banana juice is one of the byproducts of our first workshop together. One man created something new from our Business Concept workshop, something not currently found in the local market, and indicated he was doing quite well in selling the product, thus creating a new revenue stream.

Tailoring is nothing new in Uganda, but the tailor testified that her newfound sense of creativity rejuvenated through the Art and Science of Thinking workshop attracted more customers than ever before.

"Graduates"

Basket making is another common handcraft in Uganda, but this woman simply indicated that until she’d taken a serious inventory of her skills/assets, applied in our Asset-based Development workshop, she’d not thought of using that skill to earn money for her family.

Market shops are common in Uganda, they have all kinds of different products. One old woman simply said that she was “prospering like never before” because of the time of prayer and her new learning while participating in these workshops.

Leadership Team

So thankful for what God is doing in the lives of these people and their community. They truly understand the principle of Divine-human cooperation.

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