Out of Africa—a blue
bellied roller, native of West Africa that we saw in the Baltimore Zoo this
past week.
I would have liked to have started writing a bit earlier in
the vacation to keep fresh in my mind the first impressions I have garnered
from being back in the US again after another year away.
One of the clear warnings I have read in at least one
‘re-entry resource’ is a reminder that it is not only us that change as a
result of living overseas, but that the culture at ‘home’ is not stagnant and
moves as well. It is a mistake to come
back and think that things here are basically the same, so I try to stay tuned
not only to my changes in perception, but in movements in the culture as well.
A personal perspective that is echoed by my
children's impressions as well, is the amazing cleanliness and openness that is evident here even as we drive from the airport. The
trees along the interstate are varied and twice the height of any we see in
Burundi. It is a relief to not see
hectare upon hectare of eucalyptus.
Even more striking is the sheer nakedness of homesteads
here. We drive through neighborhoods to
Rebecca’s parents’ house and pass houses, farms, shopping centers, all open for
public viewing. There are no walls
here! Or at least the walls that exist
are invisible to the eye. This
particularly impresses David and Oren who live most of their lives in Burundi
behind the 10 foot walls of a school yard, or our own cloister which encloses a
house and a small surrounding yard with almost no view of the world beyond for a short child. I
have no idea of what other houses in our neighborhood in Bujumbura look
like. Some have a second floor that
sticks up higher than the wall, and others take care to have decorative
brickwork and some gardening around the outside of the enclosure, but by and
large we live hidden from each other in Burundi.
The kids love to run around outside here and prefer it to being inside the
house. I am amazed that they can play
outside on the lawn all day, and not come home dirty! It is like there is no exposed dirt here, it
is all soft grass, and clean asphalt. We almost don't need to bathe them! In Burundi lawns are a luxury and shoolyards, playgrounds, are all carpeted with dirt, not grass. There is no smell of burning in the air here, no large crowds walking down the roads, and best of all, we have a
brief respite of blessed anonymity. We
are not a public spectacle here when we walk around, shop, drive, or otherwise emerge from behind our wall --No staring or surprised exclamations of
Muzungu!
I am not used to people knowing how to line-up anymore. I was very anxious, standing in line at a store as the mother and child in front of me left nearly a 3 foot gap between themselves and the person in front of them. But no one even thought about jumping into the gap, much less cut to the front of the line upon arrival.
I am surprised about driving. On the one hand, the sense of order and
respect for the law is a welcome change, but people drive much faster here on
the highways. I am not used to being
able to drive much over 45mph anywhere because of road conditions and
traffic. Ironically the highways here
seem more dangerous to me now than the treacherous drive along the winding
route upcountry in Burundi.
There are other
changes here that I have noticed. I
spoke last summer about the sense of self-reliance here that has become a
cultural principle to the point of near absurdity. One can do just about anything without ever
contacting another human being. Buying
gas, renting videos, grocery shopping, getting directions, shopping, can all be
done without ever contacting another human being. The automation, a part of the advance in
information technology has advanced significantly since we left. I am amazed at what one can do with the help
of a smart phone or an ipad. As much as
Burundi has moved a bit into this world through cell phone technology, I cannot
see it becoming a predominately ‘virtual’ culture for many years, if ever. Real human relationships are the basis of all
meaningful interaction there.
All that said, it has been great being back with our
families. We did find that our kids had
a fabulous time with their grandparents.
Oren loved the time with Rebecca’s parents where he spent much of it
harvesting the fruit that grows on their property—raspberries, blueberries,
blackberries, and apples. He also made
numerous trips to the library and has improved his English language reading
considerably.
David enjoyed the stay at my parents’ house although he took
quite a while to get over jetlag and enjoyed more than a few 2am breakfasts
before getting into the rhythm.
We came back and spent the first week with Rebecca’s family
at their home in Fallston MD. We had a
lot of important business to take care of right off involving dentists and
doctors, in preparation for another year abroad. We also shopped for new shoes and clothes and
other necessities for the year ahead.
We did take in some of the sights of Baltimore as well. We went to the zoo with Rebecca’s Mom one
day, and the train museum the next day with her Dad. These are favorite venues for our kids and
they know them from past home-leaves.
They race ahead to see their favorite sights in each. It was interesting to note that the animals
in the safari exhibit seemed less impressive having just seen them the previous
month in the wild and at times up closer.
We have been to several pools and also made a trip to the
Gunpowder river where the kids like to wade and ride on their butts down some
small rapids. Visiting some favorite
playgrounds was also on the agenda as well as catching up with a few friends
who live closer to Rebecca’s parents.
The weather has been unseasonably cold after the first day
of our arrival and several evenings we enjoyed going into the hot tub on Dave
and Jean’s (Rebecca’s parents) deck.
This is a bit surprising since we often find the weather in the summer
much hotter than in Burundi.
After our first week in the US in Baltimore, where we did
accomplish most of the tasks we set out to do, we prepared to leave for a week
in Kansas City, Missouri to attend a large family reunion on my side of the
family. To be precise, it was a reunion
of the son and daughters of my maternal grandmother (Ruth Hawkins) as well as
their children and grandchildren.
It was a special group of people because my mother’s family
was close and the 3 sisters and brother often got together in summers on my
grandparents’ farm in Cherokee, Oklahoma when I was young. I remember many summers, coming back from
overseas to spend several weeks with a dozen cousins at my grandmother’s house
where we would stay nights together in their dorm style basement, and spend the
days on the farm helping my uncle with the work there was to do. (One of the favorite tasks was driving heavy
equipment such as tractors for plowing, discing, springtoothing.)
The last time we got together in this particular grouping
more than 10 years ago. My grandmother
has passed away but the family connections remain. We chose to meet at one of my Aunt’s houses
this year and it was amazing to see all of the cousin’s children playing
together in much the same way we as cousins did when we were young.
It was great to catch up with cousins and Aunts and Uncles
from all branches of the family. The
Calavans, Pearces, Mosleys and Hawkins’ were all represented and we had a great
time visiting, playing Frisbee golf, fishing, singing, playing guitar, and
worshiping together.
One of my cousins’ wives had done some research on our
lineage and found some very interesting, albeit troubling aspects of our
background. We are in fact descended
from a long line of sailors, who worked for the Crown of England since
Elizabeth 1. Among the notables were Sir
John Hawkins, an Admiral, who was known for his ferocious piracy against the
Portugese and Spanish. (He was a
professional pirate!) He was also
heavily involved in the slave trade in Jamaica as were many of his
descendants. Sir Frances Drake, whose
mother was a Hawkins is also in our line, which I found interesting as
well.
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| Southern Comfort: Enjoying a family favorite-- biscuits and sausage gravy. |
Saturday evening and Sunday morning were particularly
meaningful. On Saturday my brother
Jonathan and cousins Brad and Brian played some jazz guitar together. They were very impressive. Afterwards some of the Aunts and Uncles
shared with us the memories of growing up in the family of Clarence and Ruth
Hawkins. They were remembered over and
over again for their sacrificial generosity and their work ethic, both of which
they instilled in their children.
Among the interesting conversations we had on Saturday that
related our work directly to the experience of my agriculturalist relatives was
talking about the fields around my Aunt’s house. My brother commented that he was surprised
that the wheat chaff had not been plowed under at this time in the year as we
used to see when we were young. My uncle
explained that they no longer till the soil, but have a seed drill that can
plant the wheat right into the untilled field.
It is the same conservation agriculture technique, on a mechanized
scale, that we are teaching small scale farmers about in Burundi. I was really quite surprised to see that
conservation agriculture was largely in practice here in the US even on very
large farms.
On Sunday morning we worshipped together on the back porch
of Binnie and Bill’s house. We sung
songs and my cousin Brad Pearce and I were invited to share a message with the
group. I was very happy to do so,
especially in light of the fact that this side of my family also has a heritage
of Mennonites and Brethren in their line (my Grandmother was a Hiebert) and now
I am working for the Mennonite Central Committee. It was nice to reflect back the Mennonite
values we work under in MCC to them, particularly since one of my great
Uncle’s, the late PC Hiebert was one of MCC’s founding members in the early
1900s. The Gospel, expressed through
deeds of sacrificial service and hospitality has always been a family value for
the Hawkins-Hiebert family.
I did take the opportunity to use the story of Moses’ last
look at the Promised Land from Mt. Nebo before his death as recorded in
Deuteronomy 34. Moses had brought his
people over 40 years right to the edge of the Promised Land but was told by God
that he himself would not lead them on.
I talked about how Moses might have felt about that and
concluded that he was probably joyfully content because he knew that God had
promised the best for the next generation, not his own. I made the point that the Bible is always
pointing optimistically at the future.
To be a person of faith is to have a hope that the future will be better
than the present and that God reserves the best for next generation.
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| The originals: Binnie, Lonnie, Arlene, Bunny |
I used this as a take off point to talk about the challenge
of overcoming fatalism in Burundi where poverty robs people of a hope in the
future and the theology is one of a helpless trusting of God, with no agency by
people to say, plan for the education of one’s children. (That is God’s problem to take care of them,
not mine.) I talked about our work with
farmers groups on encouraging them to save and setting up village savings and
loan associations. I emphasized though,
that without the hope the future would be better than the present, no amount of
work by us will change anything. Poverty
is a spiritual issue and change requires a belief that offers a hope for a
better future.
I compared it to our own culture in which we suffer a
similar malady but it is more nihilistic than fatalistic. We do have wealth that gives us security, but
we often embrace a theology that claims “God wants the best for me now.” Many of us live here in great debt, as we
have borrowed from the future for the sake of making the present the Promised
Land, even at great risk to the future we will leave.
Both theologies miss the real profound optimism expressed in
the Bible, that assures us that the present is a time of suffering through
which we will pass, but the future is the promise of glory, for us, for our
children, for all creation.
I think it was well received and Brad followed by talking
about his work over many years with Young Life and connected to the idea that
most of the kids he works with are seeking reliable adults who can assure them
that their future will be better than the present where some (especially in the
innercity) are suffering greatly in the face of parents in prison, divorced, or
otherwise absent.
It was good to see the generation of our children there, and
the generation of my parents. The time
together reminded me so much of the times when we were young, only we were now
the Aunt’s and Uncles and our parents are now the grandparents. I do have a hope that the Promised Land will
belong to those who come after us, and that they can share that hope with their
children as well.
My apologies for missing anyone, but I want to thank
especially: Lon and Karen, Binnie and Bill, Arlene and Wayman, Bunny and Henry,
Brian and Lonnie, Brad and Sue, Mark and Kay, Linda, Cindy, Beth and Matt,
Christine, Jonathan and Emma, (and Rebecca) and all the young cousins. I love you all, and I hope we can do this
again sometime.
