Confronting a Culture of False Hopes

Rebecca shopping at Nakumatt, a supermarket in Rwanda with David on her back. She really makes a great impression on the Rwandese this way.



I have been wanting to say something about culture shock for a while. It is interesting to see the different ways it manifests itself over time. In many ways it is only in retrospect does one realize that one has been affected deeply.

I am talking about the kind of subtle differences that speak more to our cultural assumptions. The reason we don’t experience those differences right off, is because we are usually not conscious that we make cultural assumptions until we experience something different and begin to understand that the ‘other’ is not simply ‘wrong’ or ‘immoral’ but has in fact a different set of norms guiding their notions of ‘right’ and ‘morality’. For me the experience has been frustrating at times, but I am beginning to see how things work here.

The issue that has been most apparent to me is the idea of truth and honesty. I elaborated several weeks ago my frustration with trying to get a DSL connection in our house, especially the frustration of going weekly for several months to the phone company only to be told by a friendly customer service rep that it should be fully operational ‘tomorrow.’ After several months of this, I finally found out through some indirect ‘snooping’ that in fact the phone wires in our neighborhood do not, and will not support DSL in the near future. When I confronted the customer service rep. on this, she essentially told me that telling me that would have caused me to ‘lose hope.’

I was rather taken aback at her explanation. I could not see, as a westerner, how a false hope could be better than a bad truth. But last week I had a similar experience which shed some more light on the situation: Some friends of ours went to Europe for holiday and to visit her elderly ailing mother. Her mother has had an extended illness and is not expected to live much longer. When they returned ‘he’ told me that they had told some of their Burundian colleagues that they had gone home to visit their mother who was not expected to live much longer.

The Burundian’s were completely appalled at the frankness of that statement. How, they demanded, could one possibly know that someone was going to die soon. When our friends told them that the doctor had told them so, they were even more scandalized that a medical professional could be so heartless and cruel as to give a diagnosis and some expectation of life expectancy. They said that NO Burundian doctor would ever do such a thing as tell a family that their loved one might (or would) die. He would always give a much more cheery prognosis. The Burundians were actually horrified when our friends went on to tell them that the doctor had also given the bad news directly to her mother. Again they could not believe that such an evil person would be allowed to practice medicine.

I recognized, in hearing the story recounted to me, that it bore a similarity to my phone experience, and then I had a sudden resounding revelation that this is far from the only time I have been given an optimistic hope in place of ‘the raw facts’. In fact, I realized that even in meetings with partners for staff or project evaluations, I have probably been told something that represented a hope rather than a reality.

It was honestly a bit destabilizing because I had the sudden impulse to say (as the poet said about Cretans) “All Burundians are liars.” And in our culture these kinds of statements would be considered lies.

But I also know something else. It does not seem that everyone here is being lied to. In fact, what is remarkable to me is that everyone seems to know EVERTHING about everyone else. So what I understand is that facts are not communicated directly, but there is a way to get them.

When I wanted to know what happened with the DSL I sent Zachee to ask someone else in the company. I think this kind of indirect way of getting factual information is the norm. Direct conversation preserved decorum, real knowledge comes from indirect inquiry.

This was a topic of conversation at the Duke conference several weeks ago. Some of my Burundian colleagues were greatly amused in sharing with me some of the local proverbs that speak to this issue of honesty in direct conversation. I thought this one was fairly amusing: (translation-)
“A Burundian will not tell you that he hates you, and you will not tell him that you know it.”

A more sobering one was:
“One must lie to feed ones children.”

Jodi also shared some insights with me last week about trying to do an assesement about school drop out rates. She wanted to ask a a question to some young girls “Why did you drop out of school?” Her advisors shook their heads and told her she could never ask such a question, it was far too personal. AND YET every single person seems to know why this person dropped out of school.

Jodi’s conclusion was this: The unspoken is a far more powerful motivator in Burundian society than the spoken.

This has some serious ramifications for our work here. One concern of ours is that if people are not representing their true feelings and motivations in direct conversations, how can we be confident that they have actually been reconciled to each other in our trainings. There is some concern that it may be a ‘hope’ expressed as a ‘fact’.

Secondly, in doing follow-up or even base line assessment, how can we get information we need if direct questions are neither a reliable nor acceptable way of getting facts.


I don’t have answers to all these questions, nor do I expect to anytime soon. I don’t even claim to fully understand what is going on here, but that is at least one example of culture shock I have experienced in the past month.

Learning the Kirundi language is definitely helping understand the culture. I continue to plod along weekly, I am making no great strides, but I have a great capacity to just keep learning a bit at a time for as long as it takes.


This week was fine in other ways. The big event was heading to Kigali on Wednesday to meet with partners and plan programs for next year. It is always nice to go up there as a family. Oren says he really loves going there and staying at the Africa New Life Guest House. The truth is though, his behavior when we are traveling is generally worse than when we are at home. He really seems to do better when he has a very consistent, rigorous routine. School days are his best days. He has always been a child who loves order and pattern and that continues to be evident.

Now that David is older and more mobile, Rebecca and I have to split up our work almost completely. Gone are the days when we can both attend a meeting with partners. One of us is the parent, the other is the MCC Rep. But we do rotate the positions. This time Rebecca met with partners on Thursday, then I did on Friday. We returned back to Bujumbura on Saturday.

It was a bit of a hard trip because we pretty much had to tell everyone how much we are cutting their grants this year. MCC has really been hit by giving during the financial crisis. I am hoping that this year is the bottom of the trough and things will begin to improve after 2010.

While we were in Rwanda, an apparent coup attempt was thwarted in Burundi. Here is a link to an article about it. http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/africa/8488598.stm

When we got back on Saturday it did not seem to be any news and everything seemed normal. So I guess everything is fine for now, for those who might have heard anything about it.

We got back on Saturday on time to go over to our friend Thomas and Naja’s house for our biweekly get-together. It is always nice to catch up with them. It can also be a time to commiserate about cultural difficulties we face.

We ended the night with a family movie “Up” which Krystan had downloaded and given us a copy on a flash disc in Rwanda. It is quite amusing for those of you who have not seen it.

Sunday was a pleasant Sabbath. We went to church in the morning, then swam at our pool “Entente Sportif” in the afternoon. Before going to the kids’ Sunday school in the afternoon.

Speaking of swimming I cannot tell you how warm it has been here. In January we have a small ‘dry’ season which is marked by hot, still days. The pool water feels so great! It is hard to imagine that many who read this are mired in cold and snow. I don’t know when the next time I will see snow will be, but probably not for another 4 yeas as any home-leaves will almost certainly be in the summer.

Pray for Rebecca and I next week. We have been asked to preach at 2 places next Sunday, and one is a church comprised entirely of ex-child soldiers (who are now adults.) We want to be bringing a message that will encourage them and build their faith and a REAL hope.

The Etiquette of Fasting

A red bishop bird that sits in our mango trees in the morning. I think he might have a nest there.



Because it was a weekend that was not terribly overscheduled, I actually tried to write this entry on Saturday. But I just could not get started. It is interesting how this discipline, which at times I am just not in the mood to do, really seems to be a steady pulse that gives a rhythm to life here. Whether or not I ‘feel’ like writing is never a question I ask myself. I sit and write because it is Sunday evening, and that is what this time is for.

I have been thinking quite a bit about spiritual disciplines and the patterns that give rhythm to our lives after our retreat last week. I am aware, both as a parent, and as one in a cross-cultural situation, how important it is to be able to find patterns that renew, but also give a sense of comfort and familiarity. I do not know how writing this blog has become that for me, since I have never ‘journaled’ prior to this, but this chronicling of my reflections of our family’s experiences here has been a real blessing to me.

On the topic of spiritual disciplines, I mentioned that Rebecca and I have committed to fasting from Friday evening to Sunday afternoon every week. We did so again this week which has the added benefit of saving on doing the dishes when our house staff is not around on the weekend. Saturday’s feel like a good day usually beginning with the SALTers coming over for a yoga-stretch class that I lead. We then play with the kids some after that, midmorning. This is community work time, so we are not really allowed to go out and drive around anyway.

This Saturday we were invited to go to with Oren to several Birthday parties. The first one was for Isabel, the daughter of some South African missionary friends of ours Tim and Jeanette. They had a very nice party in which we were invited for lunch. One thing I realized, is that going to social gatherings that involve food are a bit tricky when one is fasting. Temptation not withstanding, the bigger problem is what to tell the host. Should one say it in advance, like telling others you are a vegetarian or something? Only it is not a matter of preparing something special, but rather preparing nothing. At a large gathering it is easy to go unnoticed, as long as the host is not overly persistent. (I focus a lot on preparing plates for Oren and David, then feeding David.) The real problem I have with telling people is that it sounds so darned self-righteous and I am certainly not doing this to impress anyone.

Actually the reason we chose to do it was because of the constant reminder we have of hunger here. So many children go to bed without enough food--children that we see and know. But what is even more difficult is the fact that it takes a tremendous amount of will to not get FAT here as a foreigner! It is so sadly ironic: Those who ‘have’ always have access to more and more, and those who ‘have not’ often have it taken away from them. I cannot tell you how many times I have been invited to the house of a poorer family, on a viste sur terrain, where we rich mzungus are invited (and obliged) to eat first and are given a huge meal while the children of the family wait patiently, watching, for whatever leftovers will remain for them. (They eat, or do not eat, out of sight later.) The fasting seems to give me some connection, however artificial, to those who really are going without meals by necessity and not choice.

So that is enough about the etiquette of fasting and spiritual disciplines. We had a fairly normal week after our very busy week last week. We have been preparing for the end of our programming year and the beginning of next year. (Our year ends at the end of Feb.) We are receiving our partner plans and have begun the process of translating them and putting them in the data base. We have also been doing some evaluations of our SALTers in their job situations. We had meetings with all of their supervisors last week. I think it was very fruitful, although I am becoming more and more aware that getting at ‘facts’ or truth, through direct communication is very difficult. Typically in a direct conversation, people will go out of their way to represent things as going fantastically well, but to get to the bottom of any problems may require an intermediary or someone who can indirectly communicate between the both of you.

I also had another opportunity on Thursday to meet with the burgeoning ‘National Committee of Churches’ to help them wordsmith a unified message of peace and reconciliation (we did not quite get to that point). Typical of meetings here, it was scheduled for 8am, but the facilitators actually showed up at around 10am to begin setting up. It did not seem to really bother anyone so I did not complain either. There was a very auspicious group in attendance including bishops of every major denomination as well as many independent churches and even the arch bishop of the Anglican church in Burundi.

Oren has been continuing with his French afternoon tutorial 3 times per week after school, and it now seems to be making an impact. He does seem to be retaining some of the vocabulary he is learning in school. Rebecca and I struggle along in our own language lessons, but generally there is slow, steady improvement.

Thursday we all started to notice we were getting sick with a cold. By that night several of us were coughing and sniffling in the night. By Friday and Saturday Rebecca and David sounded the worst and Rebecca spent quite a bit of Saturday in bed. This meant I had to put the kids to bed again and get the dinner put away, but I am getting pretty adept at being Mr. Mom after my primer two weeks ago.

We went to church today, both our morning service, then to the English fellowship in the afternoon where Rebecca and I led Sunday school. We make a pretty good, funny team, and taught some worship songs with really crazy dancing and sign language. I think Rebecca’s years in youth ministry are really paying off.

Next week we are off to Rwanda to meet with partners, so keep us in prayers, and look for us on Skype. (Good internet connection!)

News does trickle in slowly. I cannot tell you how little we hear about what is going on in the world. We did hear about Haiti and have been receiving reports about even those in Bujumbura who lost their lives there. Fortunately we did hear that the MCC Haiti reps and team had survived as well as the World Vision staff (although their building was damaged I believe.) A family who had 3 children in Oren’s school (Ecole Belge) and was quite beloved by many here were caught in the hotel and the father and two children did not survive. I have no doubt that many of you know someone who was affected by this earthquake. MCC has been receiving many, many donations as they are part of the response team. If you would like to donate go to. www.mcc.org.

Who Knows... The Kairos Moment

Father Emmanuel Katongole of the Duke Center for Reconcilliation talking to Maggie, founder of Maison-Shalom.


“Who knows, but that you have come to royal position for such a time as this.”

This was the challenge put before a gathering of Christian leaders who met in Bujumbura this past week. They came from all over the great lakes region (Burundi, Rwanda, Kenya, Tanzania, Uganda, Congo) as well as Sudan, Nigeria, Ivory Coast as well as other places in Africa. The person who put the challenge before them was Emmanuel Katongole, a Catholic priest from Uganda who is a Professor at Duke University and heads the Duke Center for Reconcilliation.

He was quoting Mordecai in his charge to Queen Ester (Ester 4:14) The jews are exiled in Babylon, and basically through a beauty contest, she, a jewish woman, becomes wife of the King of Persia. She does not have much power, but some influence over the King in her position. She is afraid to use it even to try to dissuade the King from remanding an edict to have all the jews in Persia slaughtered.

Mordecai, a jewish man who works as a gatekeeper at the palace challenges her by reminding her: “Do you think that because you are at the kings house you alone of all the jews will escape? If you remain silent at this time, relief and deliverance for the jews will arise from another place, but you and your family will perish.”

Father Emmanuel Katongole’s theme for this conference was Kairos. The Greek word for the fullness of time. He was talking about a Kairos moment in Queen Ester’s life, that required of her a decision to act, or to let it pass. “Who knows, but that you have come to royal position for such a time as this.” Ester did take the challenge, and despite her very weak position before the King, sought an audience with him at the risk of her own life. Her response to Mordecai was: “I will go to the King, even though it is against the law. And if I perish, I perish.”

I was very impressed with the conference and the challenge it was putting before African church leaders and NGO leaders who do have some influence in their countries. There were bishops from many of these countries from the Anglican, Catholic, and United Methodist churches, as well as representatives from most other denominations. There were leaders from NGOs like World Vision, World Relief, ALARM, MCC, as well as others. Emmanuel invited us all to consider the time in which we live and the influence we have, to act to bring on behalf of peace and justice in the region. He challenged us to consider the Kairos moment that may be upon us and asked if we were willing to act in faithfulness and obedience, even if we perish! This is a bold call, especially as at least 4 of the African countries involved face elections this year.

Throughout the 3 days we considered several aspects of the story and roles we might play in our own stories:
Ester- A woman, who came from humble beginnings, chosen for her beauty to become king at a time when woman were particularly oppressed by men. ( see the edict against women in Ester 1:19) She appears to be fairly compliant and not a very likely heroine.

Mordecai- An assistant gate keeper at the palace. A position that is not very near, nor very far from the seat of power. He knows what is going on in the country (including the edict to kill all jews) and is powerless to stop it, but in a position to advise Queen Ester.

Time- We were invited to consider the times we are living in now in our own current situation. Is there a Kairos moment ahead coming for us?

I have to say, I was very impressed with Father Katongole and the Duke Center’s capacity to bring together a gathering of so many influential church leaders, especially across the Catholic/Protestant spectrum. (In many countries around here Catholics and Protestants are quite deeply divided and there is little common work between them.)

The conference met from Tuesday-Friday, although Rebecca was part of the pregathering planning committee that met for the weekend prior. We participated in the event as best we could as we had some logistical responsibilities, often bringing David along, or leaving Oren with our SALTer Robyn who offered to do babysitting duty.

It was good during the days to struggle with the invitees over these questions and what is required of us. I was personally very challenged by the call to live out my faith even to the point of giving my life. In my own country I had not encountered any life and death struggles with my being a Christian. I might face ridicule, but here, there are real possibilities of making enemies, or taking a stand for which one might actually be killed. I did not take this call to these leaders lightly, and I do not think they took it lightly either, especially since most of them have already passed through some horrific experience in the past losing friend, family, and colleagues during crises here from war to HIV.

We were offered opportunities to see some who have taken the call to Esther to heart. On Thursday we went on a field trip and saw Maison-Shalom, run by a catholic woman named Maggie. She is also a tutsi that has worked tirelessly for her Hutu neighbors, despite the fact that during the crisis, hutus killed 72 members of her family before her eyes, including all of her children. She does not mourn, but has responded with a spirit of God’s love that is frightening in its power to heal.

She started by taking in children, (hutu and tutsi) and began an orphanage, then a school, then a hospital. She has many enemies: Her tutsi family consider her to be a traitor, and her hutu community think she is a spy. But she has been fearless despite many attempts on her life.

It is so amazing to me to say how much the world really is threatened by Agape (the love of God.) I believe now that if you are really boldly doing God’s work, you will have enemies who will want to kill you, because true Agape challenges worldy spirits of injustice, hatred, and fear. These are powerful forces that will put up a fight to protect their territory. It was a harsh reminder to see just how offensive this woman of profound compassion and love has been in her deeply divided community. AND YET, the amazing, miraculous favor of God that has been on her in her work, protecting her life, and blessing the efforts she has made. Profoundly inspired, the 60 of us that made the bus tour to her fairly remote community in Eastern Burundi, returned to Bujumbura on time for dinner.

The conference ended Friday, which was a relief for us despite how inspiring it was. Since our out of town team (Jodi, and Ruth and Krystan) came down for the conference, we took the opportunity to have a team retreat over the weekend at our house. It was a chance to have Ruth and Krystan meet the new family (Ressler-Horsts). We had brunch together on Saturday morning, then had some worship time together. The theme for the weekend was a compliment to the conference in that it focused on what our lives should look like in ‘ordinary time’, that is the time between the Kairos moments. I used Psalm 131 as our theme psalm:

My heart is not proud O Lord,
My eyes are not haughty,
I do not concern myself with great matters,
With things too wonderful for me.
But I have stilled and quieted my soul,
Like a weaned child with its mother
Like a weaned child, is my soul within me.

We talked about developing spiritual disciplines to live in ordinary time, but prepared for the Kairos moment. I used the illustration of the rescue workers on 9/11 who ran into the building to rescue those inside. Their response was not just a spontaneous act of bravery, but something that they had been trained and prepared for. I talked about us, in order to respond in the Kairos time takes spiritual preparation in ordinary time, and much of our lives are spent in ordinary time. (I also gave the example of the 40 years in the wilderness spent by those who were waiting to enter the promised land.)

We challenged everyone to find a spiritual discipline that might help them be renewed spiritually and a way to prepare them to hear the call that God might put on them at any time. We agreed to be accountable to each other. Rebecca and I have been committed to fasting weekly, and have done so, from Friday dinner to Sunday dinner the past 3 weeks. This feels like an appropriate discipline in a place where we are so aware of hunger, of those who cannot make that choice. Everyone committed to do something in the coming year some more orthodox than others.

On Sunday, many of us went to the Anglican church together, then had brunch at Nathan and Lara’s house, followed by a day at the beach down south at one of the newly constructed resorts. It was a really fun day in an idyllic setting, as you can see by the photos. It is amazing to see our team so large. All said, we are about 17 counting spouses and children. We felt that the team retreat was a fitting end to an inspiring week, and helped to draw us nearer.


I want to close by sharing a prayer/poem that was a theme of both the conference and the team retreat. It was written for Archbishop Arthur Romero, who was a champion of justice for the poor in El Salvador. He was assassinated for his efforts and his willingness to use his position on behalf of them. It was a reminder of Esther’warning about a Kairos moment: “if I perish, I perish.” In order for us to be Christian leaders, we have to be willing to follow Jesus all the way to the cross. In order to do that, we have to believe, as Oscar Romero did that we are ‘Prophets of a Future not our Own.”

Prophets of a future not our own It helps now and then to step back and take the long view. The Kingdom is not only beyond our efforts, it is beyond our vision. We accomplish in our lifetime only a tiny fraction of the magnificent enterprise that is God's work. Nothing we do is complete, which is another way of saying that the Kingdom always lies beyond us. No statement says all that could be said. No prayer fully expreses our faith. No confession brings perfection. No pastoral visit brings wholeness. No program accomplishes the Church's mission. No set of goals and objectives includes everything. That is what we are about: We plant seeds that one day will grow. We water seeds already planted, knowing that they hold future promise. We lay foundations that will need further development. We provide yeast that produces effects beyond our capabilities. We cannot do everything, and there is a sense of liberation in realizing that. This enables us to do something, and to do it very well. It may be incomplete, but it is a beginning, a step along the way, an opportunity for God's grace to enter and do the rest. We may never see the end results, but that is the difference between the master builder and the worker. We are workers, not Master Builders, ministers, not Messiahs. We are prophets of a future not our own.
- Bishop Ken Untener

A Normal Week Sans Mommy

I think after last week, I can safely say I do not have a lot more to add this week. Going back to our routine may not be as exciting to describe, but it is nice to get back into our patterns again, at least for the first half of the week.

Oren was back in school Monday morning, much to his delight I might add. He was glad to get together with his buddies and his teacher M. Christophe. Jal, (Nathan and Lara’s son) also started school this week, although he is 6, so not in Oren’s class, he is going to the same school. Although I only saw him briefly several times, he seemed to be doing OK with it.

We have also decided to add some extra remedial French tutoring sessions for Oren on Monday Wednesday and Friday afternoons from 3-5. These are offered at the school. This is primarily due to the fact that he really has not made any progress at learning French in the past year. He is atypical in this as other classmates who started out like him are all to the point where they speak it quite well. Oren has pretty much refused to speak. When Rebecca asked him why he did not speak French he told her he was scared that if he spoke French he would forget English.

Anyway his teacher is Mdm. Florid, one of the assistants in his class last year whom he really liked, so he actually does not object to going at all as he does seem to like to do things at his school.

Work has been heating up a bit as we have several deadlines for requesting new personnel for next year. (Primarily SALT volunteers.) We are trying to make some wise choices about this but have not been able to really crank out any job descriptions without meeting with some of our partners.

We also have a major conference next week that we are participating in. This is the Duke gathering, a conference that we participated in last year as well at this time of year. (It seems like a decade ago though.) Although we are not running the conference, we are being depended upon for many logistical matters, like booking hotels, getting people at the airport, etc. It is a lot of extra work for us this week and next.

As part of this event, there is a 3 day pre-gathering upcountry. It is at a place called Maison-Shalom, run by a most extraordinary woman. I have no doubt Rebecca will fill you in on this next week. Normally I am the one to go on these upcountry visits, as Rebecca needs to stay with the kids, particularly David because he is still breast feeding. This was to be the week of weaning though as Rebecca requested being the one to go on this trip. I did not object and was excited by the challenge of having sole responsibility for the boys from Saturday – Tuesday. All would have been well if David would not have started rasping and coughing on Thursday night and all day Friday. We took him to the doctor on Saturday morning before Rebecca left. The doctor prescribed an antibiotic for respiratory infection. This of course meant that I was left now with one sick and one healthy child alone for the better part of 4 days and 3 nights.

It is now Monday morning and David is still under the weather. He had 2 wrestless nights, but at no time was he inconsolable. Ibuprofen kept the fever down and he was content to receive a bottle of milk from me when he was hungry. Oren has actually been on his best behavior as far as I am concerned, and seems to want to help me as much as possible. We were not able to go to church on Sunday as I did not think I could supervise Oren while tending to David in his current condition. Instead, we had Sunday School at home with a lesson about Joseph and his many colored coat. We sung quite a few Sunday School songs, prayed, and colored a picture as well.

Sunday afternoon Jodi stopped by to get some money. She was in town bringing a group of her batwa students to the ‘big city’ of Bujumbura to be fitted for eye glasses. She has discovered that most of the students have bad eye sight but no means of improving it. She has been raising money from friends to make a visit to the eye doctor with a large group of them twice per year. For many it is the first time they have ever been to a city like Bujumbura, or even in a vehicle for that matter. Jodi described the experience on the bus of at least 25 of them throwing up from car sickness on the way down. (Luckily she had the foresight from past experience to put plastic bags in the car for each of them.) It is a rough windy road if you are not used to riding in a vehicle.

An eye doctor appointment, and glasses costs about $8 altogether, so the trip with bus fare and fitting 25 of them with glasses is only a few hundred dollars. As part of the whole experience the bus driver took them down to Lake Tanganyika before they headed back upcountry. Most had never seen the Lake before and were overcome by awe at the sight of so much water. For them, despite the motion sickness, it was one of the most exciting days of their lives. (Here is a photo of some of them sporting their new glasses.)

Sunday evening Zachee and Bridget invited the SALTers, Jodi, me and the kids to their house for dinner. It was a very nice evening at their house with a great meal. We left late for a school night but before the start of the Africa Cup games which many around here seem to be getting excited about.

I am posting this a bit late on Monday morning because of internet connection problems. As a rejoinder to an earlier post about trying to get ASDSL, I was finally able to get a confidential explanation from a technician (who was a friend of Zachee’s) about why the wait has been interminably long even though we have paid for it. He told Zachee that our neighborhood’s lines are not capable of providing DSL at all and would probably not be changed anytime soon. As sad as it was, it was good to find out the truth instead of hearing, for 6 solid months, a customer service rep. (who knew the real reason) tell me “You should have it tomorrow or early next week.”

When I told this person that as a westerner I preferred an unpleasant truth to a lie that I wanted hear. She was genuinely surprised and her response to me was, “Well, I tell you maybe tomorrow or next week, so you can always have hope.” Her reasoning was quite surprising in that she said it with out a bit of guile.

...I wanted to say to her that as a Christian I did Hope and would not stop Hoping. I Hoped for God’s justice for orphans, widows and the prisoners in Burundi. I Hoped for a non-violent electoral process and an end to corruption. BUT I was not Hoping for DSL. I was not counting on God to provide me with DSL miraculously. I had chosen to make a contract with the phone company whom I had paid to provide the service.

But now, I am thinking that a reliable internet connection certainly will not happen for us without divine intervention. …I guess we can always hope.

A Village Live-In and Prison Visit to Round Off the Year

David and Oren sharing some hot water in a tub on a chilly morning during our village live-in.




One thing that we have always regretted missing during our first weeks of orientation to Burundi was a ‘village live-in”. This is an experience of rural life in the country where one is working, usually done at the beginning of an assignment, to give the MCC service worker a sense of what life for the local population is really like.

When we arrived, the turn-over time was so short that we did not really get to experience this ourselves. I had talked to Cassien (director of Help Channel) several weeks ago, and he proposed that we come to his village over the Christmas break, and stay at his family home. We decided to take him up on the offer. (As an aside, Cassien had made a trip to the US in October and had actually stayed briefly with Rebecca’s parents.) I think he was pleased to be able to return the favor.

On Monday morning we all piled into Cassien’ Landcruiser—with his wife Beatrice and 3 nieces, the 4 of us, and a huge pile of luggage and food—and headed up the mountains by the southern route. Cassien’s village is located just past the province of Bururi sort of near a town called Makamba. (It is also very close to the Burundi Source du Nil—a small spring, claimed to be the southern-most source of the Nile river.)

The village was not unlike others in Burundi, although being in the less populated south meant that it did not seem nearly as crowded with people. Cassien’s house, though, was a bit of a surprise. Somehow I was expecting a mud hut or grass hut with a dirt floor, filled with relatives of his extended family. What I found was a well-staffed uninhabited modern house, complete with solar power, a lawn, and an enclosed cloture with plenty of parking. It was a bit of an anomaly in the village in that it was the only modern house I saw there.

The house was attached to a stable where Cassien had cows, sheep, goats, and chickens. He also had a fairly large staff of workers who care for the farm and livestock while he is away. Cassien showed us around the area, pointing out a stand of tall old trees which his father had planted many years ago as an agricultural investment. Just down the road, Cassien had personally bought property and planted trees himself; he was eager to see how they were doing. We began to understand how Cassien came up with the concept of a food-for-work reforestation project, which MCC supports.

-- Paul just fell asleep, so I’m taking over at this point… (Rebecca)
Our children were entranced by the livestock. David learned how to moo like a cow as a signal that he wanted another visit to the barn. Oren was fascinated to see a cow being milked for the first time in his life – by hand! I was pretty impressed myself.by the high pressure of the extracted milk. And Oren just loved drinking the fresh, recently boiled cow’s milk (very different from powdered milk or long-life that we usually drink). That was about all he ate while we were there. Oren really wanted to talk to the cows and tell them thank you, but Cassien advised him that “If you want to talk with a cow, you should bring a stick.” (This is actually a kirundi proverb that I think is meant to refer to dealing with stubborn people.

In the evening, it got quite chilly, so we enjoyed sitting in Cassien’s living room around the fireplace, drinking huge cups of tea and having a typical Burundian supper of rice, green peas, and potatoes. Beatrice and Cassien love to sing and it was lovely to sing old favorite hymns like “My Jesus I love thee” and “Angels we have heard on high.” with the Kirundi words.

On Tuesday morning it stopped raining so we investigated Cassien’s vegetable farm, teaming with eggplants, pumpkins, tomatoes, cabbages, beans, sweet potatoes and a few things I couldn’t identify. Oren love climbing up the mountain and looking around at the incredible view. We could see all the way over to a large rocky mountain that stretched southward, and we found out that a group of 200 chimpanzees lived in the valleys on the top of that government land. (We were shocked to hear that Burundi has any wildlife left at all.) Apparently, these chimps have been raiding people’s farms and destroying crops. The farmers know it’s illegal to kill a chimpanzee, but they don’t know what to do. A community-based wildlife conservation or tourism plan is desperately needed here to resolve this human-chimpanzee land conflict, protect the monkeys, and give some benefit to the local people. (If anyone reading this has connections to organizations who do this, we would be interested in hearing about it.)

Later in the morning, we drove about 90 minutes to a more and more remote section of central Burundi to see the Karera Waterfalls. They were truly spectacular and worth the drive. We were able to hike down alongside all three sets of waterfalls, in the company of several armed soldiers and a park guide of sorts. There is actually a protected forest surrounding the falls; the lush vegetation and variety of trees and shrubs was in stark contrast to the eucalyptus forests we usually see. I was fascinated to imagine what much of Burundi would have looked like, 100 years ago. The rainy day subsided to a drizzle for the whole of our walking visit to the falls, and then it started pouring again. On the way back to Cassien’s home, we stopped for lunch at a local hotel. What succulent, tender beef and mutton they have up-country. It was the most touristic day we had in Burundi, not so much of a village live-in, but Cassien and Beatrice confessed that they hardly ever just take the time to rest and enjoy their country and forget about their responsibilities. It was good to imagine that we gave them an excuse for a little break.

On Wednesday, before we hit the road for home, we stopped at a natural hot springs 10 minutes from Cassien’s village. We were just going to peek at it, but before we could stop him, Oren had stripped down completely and was ready to get in the pool. Fortunately, it wasn’t very deep, so we let him swim around for a few minutes. We pray the temperatures killed off any bilharzias (That is a disease for those of you who don't know about parasitic snails in African lakes). It was much harder to get him out.of the pool; one of young Burundians bathing there had to help us out and carry him to shore.

We returned home on a different road, taking us down through the most impressively steep pass I have seen in Burundi. People there truly live a vertical life. It was dizzying just to imagine how women farm some of the steep plots we drove past. We ended up back along the coast of Lac Tanganyika and stopped for lunch at a beach restaurant that will soon open as a resort to rival the hotels in Mombasa, Kenya. It was a truly wonderful trip, spent with wonderful generous friends, and a great way to see rural southern Burundi. Oren also told me that it was his favorite part of the whole Christmas vacation. (Vacation in Burundi anyone? We would love to be your tour guides!)

Paul continuing again…
We returned on Wednesday evening Jan 30th. On Thursday morning I got a call from Zenon, the pastor I have done some prison ministry with. He told me that several of them had obtained permission to go into the prison and asked if I wanted to go and give a message that afternoon. I said I would.

Because of my past experience in prison ministry in New York, this is something I have wanted to continue here. I have had one previous opportunity to go in several months ago. Since then, we have tried several times and been turned away because of problems in the prison. (We have received regular reports in the newspaper about riots in this prison that have had to be put down by the army.) Recently, the rioting got so bad, that some prisoners actually set fire to the main entrance and burned the director’s office as well as the offices that housed all of the prison records on the prisoners themselves regarding their sentences. This is really quite terrible in a place that is completely non-computerized. The hard copies in that place to some extent may be the only record of the sentences and amount of time served in that place.

Sadly, our house is close enough to the prison that I have been able to hear the volleys of gunshots from the army at the gates of the prison many times in the last month. Having been in there before, I cannot imagine the hell of that place getting worse. There are about 6000 men, women and children crammed into a place that is really only big enough for about 2000. It is truly an appalling place. (I should add also that unlike prisons in the US, there is little or no food service provided. Prisoners depend on families and friends to supply them with rice, or maniac and beans AND even charcoal so they can cook on it.—many inside are starving.)

I met the team around lunch that day that we were going in with. I had taken a sermon from Phillipians I had offered at Coxsackie prison in the past, since I had not had time to prepare something new. Our team prayed together for an hour before entering--for permission to enter to not be remanded, among other things. While we prayed I talked to Zenon about the many children and young people I had seen in there before. He told me that some boys have been in there for 8 to 9 years for stealing a cell phone when they were as young as 8. The problem, he said, is that many do not understand the system, so have not presented themselves before the prison magistrate to be considered for release. They have served well beyond their sentence, but do not know the process to get out. (Apparently once you are in, you are forgotten by the bureaucracy, no one is looking out for your well being if you are not.)

We did get in after a long wait at the main gate. To my surprise, we were not taken to the chapel, but led to a wing deep in the bowels of the prison. By the noise I heard coming from the inside, I could tell it was full of women. Sure enough, it was the women’s dorm area. We were taken to a smallish room in the back where about 100 women were led in. Most all of them had children with them, so that when we were all in it felt more like some kind of training at a health clinic than a prison. I can’t tell you how emotionally appalling it is to see these women locked up with their young children. I don’t know what crimes the women are guilty of, but I cannot imagine what it would be like to be a child locked up for years with my mother.

From talking to Bridget and Zachee about orphanages around here though, these children are actually far better off in the care of their mothers than being put into an orphanage where there may be 60 or more babies to 3 year olds in a tiny room, 3 to a bed, under the care of one or maybe two people, often badly malnourished, and worse, starving for affection and a human touch from an adult.

Despite the pain that the scene in the room caused me, I did take the time to go around and greet every woman and child in the room, and look them in the eyes and try to see Christ in them. It was good to begin this way for me so I could see more clearly their humanity. One practical problem I realized I had. I had not been told we would be talking to women, and my sermon was quite frankly, oriented toward men. During the opening prayer given by Zenon I considered whether to go ahead and give the sermon I had prepared or to change and improvise a sermon that would speak more to women.

I am eternally indebted to the experience and training provided by the KAIROS prison ministry in New York for helping me in these situations. I can’t even count the number of times that things had to be radically readjusted midstream in a visit there. I have really learned to trust the Holy Spirit then.

When it was my turn, I am happy to say that my Kirundi is getting good enough that I can introduce myself and even talk a bit. I told them that I was a father with a wife and two young children. (names and ages.) Then I opened the Bible to John 4 and preached a sermon on the Jesus and the Samaritan woman at the well. (I did not read or preach in Kirundi.) It was completely improvised but I felt very led by the spirit.

At the end of the sermon many women came up for prayer and healing and several to make a confession of faith. We laid hands on them and prayed, before leaving.

I felt like our time in the place was short, and we did not have any control over the time of the visit. I was grateful though, that we had been able to get in, and I am hoping that there will be other opportunities in the near future. One thing this is doing is opening my eyes to the need for justice in this system. The judiciary here is corrupt, and the process to get a hearing is extremely slow. Many people are locked up who are not guilty of anything but being accused by a false witness, from what I understand. Even those who are guilty, though, are in an nearly inhuman situation. Thinking back to my experiences in the US, I never thought I would say that the Coxsackie Correctional Facility in New York, looks like a 4 star hotel compared to this place.

Thursday evening was New Year’s Eve. We had some friends over for dinner, (Tim and Jeanette, a missionary couple from South Africa) We prayed for the new year after we ate, but then turned in early, after we got the kids to bed. From the noise outside, I would say that the rest of Bujumbura was partying all night.

When I talked to others about what they had done, I found that most Christians go to an all night church vigil where they sing, pray and listen to sermons from about 8pm to 6am. Many non religious people go to bar all night for about the same amount of time. So apparently at 6 am on New Years Day, the streets are packed with large groups of very drunk, and very sober people making their way home in the morning.

We had a relaxing weekend, trying to spend quality time with the kids. We did some fun crafts with Oren from a book that we got for Christmas of things to do. Among our activities was to make puppets. There were many varieties including a ‘chin puppet’. You put eyes and a nose on your chin then hang off a bed to make a very funny little talking face. David found this very strange to see the tiny face on mommy talking to him. But both kids were amused.

I think we are now prepared this morning for the tidal wave of work that awaits us today. Oren goes back to school as well. Happy New Year Everyone!