Finding the Fruits of Consolation Amidst the Briars

A view of our vegetable garden growing in a planter outside our house. We are enjoying eating lettuce and cilantro from it regularly now, and are expecting to have tomatoes and basil in the weeks ahead as well.


How soon does yesterday become last year? It is amazing how the past seems to fade into the distant past so quickly these days. One thing I like about writing something down weekly is that it gives some distinction to what in retrospect seems to be a vague continuum of weeks and months. It is good to remember the things that happened-- not just the big unforgettable events, but the small, nearly unnoticed things that can tell us so much about ourselves.

Today was particularly satisfying because Rebecca and I led worship at the afternoon English Fellowship and then taught Sunday School together. We really make a good team in this, and we were asked to do it again next week because people were so inspired and blessed by it. I was able to borrow a djembe and Rebecca played guitar. I think what was most satisfying about it, is how infrequently we do things like that here, despite the fact that this was something we did almost weekly before we moved here.

I am trying not to report only the bad news, so it is good to remember the times we were blessed because we certainly had our share of small hardships this week.

On Monday, despite some improvement in my health over last weekend, I found that the soreness in my throat had really not gotten any better. I had gone to the doctor the Saturday before and he has prescribed some antibiotics that did not seem to be doing anything. I should describe the doctor here. Dr. Raafat is an Egyptian pediatrician who has a clinic at the nearby Rainbow Center. We take our kids there, but often go ourselves because he is always available and we can get diagnosed and treated quite quickly there.

He said in his Egyptian accent, “Vell, ve can vait or we can start you on injectable antibiotics.” I cringed. The word ‘injectable’ is never something I like to hear a doctor to say. But ‘injectable antibiotic’ makes me think of WW II battlefield amputations, and grown men screaming in pain. I was hoping he would opt to wait, and I even suggested getting a culture or something before beginning, but he seemed set on going ahead as soon as possible. “a course of 5 should do to begin and we can decide whether to continue after that.”

My fears about pain were completely borne out when he pulled out a large syringe with an enormous needle and began mixing some powder and liquid in a sterile bottle then filling the syringe with an enormous dose of what looked like a mucousy glop. I knew that a needle that large was only going to go in one place and the only choice I was given was which side I wanted for dose #1. I can say, this daily trip to the doctor was something I only looked forward to getting over with the past 5 days. By day 3 my buttocks was hurting far more than my throat, which I took to be a sign of improvement/ I am happy to report that I received my last dose this morning, and my throat seems fine. I should be able to sit down comfortably by this Wednesday as well.

Because of the illness, I was not able to swim this past week either. It was sad to miss it, but Rebecca and I actually needed a lot of extra work time this week because of work. In our yearly planning cycle it was the deadline week for submitting concept papers for new projects that may be supported by certain dedicated funds at MCC. We did manage to get 5 of our partners to turn proposals in, though this meant a tremendous amount of revision and interpreting by us. We actually worked late into the night on Friday to get the last ones in. We did feel some sense of accomplishment in completing these projects; now we just have to wait and see.

We also had another very short-term visitor on Thursday. Joseph Sibusiso, a man from Swaziland was in Gitega teaching at a peace conference sponsored by one of our partners. On his way back home, passing through Bujumbura, he stayed the night with us. Despite the fact that we spent most of the evening sitting in darkness, he did share some interesting stories about life in Swaziland and his work as a peace-worker. We were glad to be able to provide him some hospitality and were thankful once more for our comfortable guestrooms.

Probably the worst news was the theft that happened in our car last Tuesday. I was feeling pretty bad in the afternoon, so Rebecca took the kids to the park without me. While there, she did not notice that one of the back windows was slightly open, just enough for a thief to reach in with something and open a door. Long story short, she came back to the car to find that a Leatherman tool and my ipod (with radio transmitter) were stolen as well as the console on the drivers’ armrest that controls power windows and locks. Because of the theft of the latter, all movement of windows was impossible.

The ipod was a particularly unfortunate loss for me, because you cannot replace something like that here AND I had just started using it for my ballet class. It was also nice for long trips and part of our arsenal of things to entertain the kids with when we were stuck in a long meeting somewhere.

The console is another story. We went to our mechanic to have it replaced the next day and he went to a used part shop, who in turn went to the black market district to look for a small specialty used part like this. Within a matter of hours we had bought back our own console for about $80. It is honestly hard to know what to do in this situation. To buy a new one would have been very expensive, and probably not available anywhere in Burundi, but to buy back one on the black market (especially the very one that was stolen) just supports the economy of crime that is growing around here rapidly. We are beginning to be more and more resigned to the fact that parts will be stolen off our car like gas caps, mirrors, etc. despite all our efforts to thwart the criminals. We have been victims of this kind of crime at least 7 times in the last year.

Despite the loss of the ipod, ballet went pretty well on Thursday. I burned a couple cds from itunes. I now have 27 students in the young kids class and about 15 in the older class. The former is a kind of barely controllable chaos, but I am handling it OK. The hard thing is the culture of childcare among Europeans and Burundians, which seems cavalier compared to how protective we are at home. Parents drop their kids off at the school gate (or send their drivers to do so). Most have not even gone in to see what I look like or where the class room is. They also come to pick up the kids late and don’t seem to care what they do after class is over. In the US, I feel like an unattended child doing their own thing for more than 5 minutes is a school emergency.

I have to say, I would appreciate a bit more parental interest for the sake of order if nothing else.

I am enjoying the teaching as a divertissement though, and this week I taught the older girls a short variation from Swan Lake.

I mentioned Friday being the day we finished the concept papers late into the evening, and Saturday a quiet day of rest which included our bi-weekly luncheon with our other missionary friends. We were at Stephan and Tanja’s house this week, our German friends.

By Saturday evening Oren was running a high fever, so we had a family movie night at home. Sunday we also spent at home taking care of Oren. We are hoping he will be feeling better by tomorrow; otherwise it is off to the doctor for malaria tests.


I mentioned last week that Rebecca would fill you in a bit about the ‘dot’ she attended and what the ceremony was about. Keep us in prayer as we work through these few weeks of difficulties.


Paul mentioned that I attended a “Dot” ceremony (pronounced Daught, meaning Dowry) last weekend. I wanted to describe this fascinating tradition a little. We have known for some months now that our young friends Jean Claude and Francine intended to get married. But normally, here in Burundi, there is not much publicity about a dating relationship until the couple in question knows they want to marry. The Dot is an important milestone: asking for the permission of the families. According to tradition, the young man would go with his father and other family representatives to visit the family of the girl. The girl’s family would receive them graciously and offer them drinks (usually banana beer). And then they would embark on an elaborate, circuitous discussion about the purpose of this visit. Usually there was some discourse concerning the merits of a fine cow, aka, the sought-after daughter of the household. “You are most welcome, and we hope you will feel comfortable and stay as long as you wish. But is there anything that you would like from us?” “No, we just appreciate visiting you…” “But really, can’t we give you anything as a gift while you are here?” “Well, we have seen a certain beautiful cow in your family’s pasture…” “Is it this one? Are you sure you didn’t mean a different one, etc…” An urban Dot is not a spontaneous visit, but a well-planned and orchestrated ceremony, modeled after the traditional rural custom. I picked up our three SALT volunteers, and we helped to represent Jean Claude’s family. First we waited for him, along with other “Kinsmen” at the new home he will share with Francine. We had a big vehicle, so we chauffeured three young ladies and six huge baskets filled with the traditional gifts Claude’s family was bringing to sweeten his request for Francine’s hand. The baskets contained beans, grains, sugar and other staples. Then we drove to a location near Francine’s big sister’s house and waited for the call to know that they were ready to welcome us. When we arrived, we found a large canopy set up completely blocking the street in front of the house. On the inside, two sets of couches and tables were set up facing each other, and one wall of the tent was decorated with fabric, animal skin rugs and baskets. Francine’s ‘family’ was all seated in rows of chairs facing us. We sat down in opposite rows of chairs, and almost immediately, young men came with crates of fantas and we all enjoyed a cold drink. Next the series of speeches began and the exchange unfolded over the course of nearly an hour. Jean Claude’s representative was another young family member (his father died while he was a baby), and essentially he expressed that Jean Claude had been suffering from a great sickness lately, which would only be cured if he could come and ask to marry Francine. The gift baskets were presented. Various dances and songs were interspersed between episodes of the discussion. Finally, several young ladies came out of the house, the last one being Francine. There was an amusing episode, where the family tried to marry another sister off to Jean Claude, but he persisted, and he gave his big monetary gift to the counterfeit bride, in order to be able to finally greet Francine. Now the prospective couple was allowed to sit together. Symbolic gifts were exchanged: a ring for Francine and a cane and Bible for Jean Claude. Gourds of banana beer were passed around, and the guests took turns taking a sip from straws. Alcohol seals the deal in this culture. Actually to be honest, I wasn’t able to take a sip, so I don’t really know what was in the gourds. At the moment they were being passed, I was struggling with David, trying to get him tied onto my back, without totally dismantling the imvutano dress I was wearing for the occasion. I do know that Claude and Francine worked very hard to make this Dot as much of a teetotalers event as possible, because of their convictions, but it’s possible they couldn’t totally rule out the sipping-from-gourd ritual. All in all, this was a fairly short ceremony by Burundian standards. We were done by 7:30 pm. But as part of Claude’s “family,” and as the appointed transporters of gift baskets (which had been returned filled with similar but different staple foods), we were “implicated” (as we say in French), up until the very end. So, we joined the extended family for a final festive drink at a local cabaret. As Jean Claude explained, he prevailed on his family to keep the Amstels away from the actual Dot ceremony, but he couldn’t totally prevent them from enjoying a beer after the festive occasion. Actually, I was glad to be involved in this final stop of the evening. I would never have gone into a local beer garden like this one for any other reason. And it also gave me a chance to hear about Claude’s hard work to include his father’s extended family in the event (he had just become acquainted with them) without alientating the relatives of his late mother who raised him. It’s beautiful to see how this new marriage has brought about the work of reconciliation from old wounds. So now, with parents’ permission in hand, the wedding is planned for November 7th.

The Unexpected Visitor

Oren watches Jodi's nightguard Lazarre clean a fish he caught in the river.


One thing I am coming to understand about parenting young children--and I am sure that this does not just apply to missionaries— is that often the life we make for ourselves presumes that both parents are firing on all cylinders at all times. (I know that many single parents have to do it alone and I cannot imagine how) But I am sick with the flu since Friday and it has made this a very challenging week for us to balance our obligations and childcare.

Because of this I am going to keep this entry short and hopefully be able to say more next week. As I said last week, we have a new routine which includes scheduled time for work, childcare, exercise (swimming), as well as language study, and teaching a ballet class for me on Thursday.

One break from the regular routine happened on Tuesday as I was about to pack up from the office. There was a commotion outside the office than several Burundians led a ‘60ish’ mzungu (white person) into the office. He introduced himself as Don and said he had just arrived from the airport. He was Canadian and had come with no money so he could not buy a visa. The airport authorities had kept his passport and allowed him to go in town to get some money. The problem was, he could not use his credit cards here. He was out of ideas when he checked hi computer for a Burundian he knew. This turned out to be Innocent, our partner in Gitega who runs the Hope School for the Batwa. Don told me the cab driver used his cell to call Innocent and Innocent had told him to find us at our office at the Friends Church.

Lucky for him I actually was aware that a photographer from Canada (friend of Jodi’s mom) was arriving and going to the school this week. I put 2 and 2 together and figured this was him. It is not completely surprising to me that someone from the west might think that you could use ATM cards, credit cards, travelers checks, etc. when coming here. The fact is, the only acceptable foreign currency here is 100 dollar bills dated later than 2005. I trusted his story and gave him $400 for a visa and spending money, then invited him to come to our house and stay the night with us until he headed up to Gitega the next day.

Not exactly a Good Samaritan story, but it was a good deed. He did come and stay with us and then headed up to Gitega the next day. The money issue was still there and we suggested he call someone at home to wire him some cash via Western Union. He said he would do that when he got to Gitega.

He left our house Wednesday morning without much money, no charge in his phone and only a vague idea about how to get a bus to Gitega (where Innoent said he would meet him and take him to the school.) I called ahead, and long story short, they found each other and he got to Burasera.

Interestingly enough, we also had a plan to go up to the school to see Jodi that Friday, so we offered to take his suitcase up with us so he would not have to take it on the bus.

Friday morning we went up early. We had an ambitious day. We wanted to pass through Gitega where there is a one month peace training sponsored by MCC. We wanted to check on its progress, then continue on (full speed) to Burasera to have a meeting with Jodi and Innocent about some future projects for the Hope School.

We got on the road in good time, 7:30 am with the family as well as our night guard Gaspar and his daughter, who was down for some dental work. He was taking her back to their home near Gitega. (Gaspar gets to see his family about once every 2 months, like many who work in the city to support his family upcoumtry.

We were about 20 minutes up the treacherous mountain road when we found all traffic was at a dead halt. We did not know what the problem was and whether we should wait it out or go home, but when we remembered we had Don’s suitcase we realized getting to Burasera was imperative.

We waited for about two hours before we heard from people walking down the road from above that a truck was passing a bus (both going uphill aroumd a corner) a large truck coming down ran right into them as he was not able to stop fast enough heading downhill. (This is an accident that I would think happens daily with reckless driving of overloaded trucks.) But this was the worst I had seen.

Actually we did not see it until we had sat about 4 hours waiting for traffic to move. When we got to the wreck, I could not imagine how this would ever be cleared. There are no huge wrecker tow trucks or jaws of life to tear apart a truck. Human power is what is available and it was already in evidence as they had already excavated away the internal embankment of the mountain to make a single lane around the accident.

Since we were now about 4 hours behind our schedule, we skipped the trip to Gitega and took the shortcut to Burasera. We were disappointed to have to cut this out, but will try to get back later this month.

We got to Burasera just in time for the meeting and it was about then that I realized I was coming down with a fever. By the time it was over I was really sick and asked to be excused from dinner with the priests at the seminary that night.

The good news was that we did find Don there and Jodi told us about some really amazing photography projects he was doing with the children at the school. He and Jodi had lent their cameras to them to take pictures, then he gave critiques and helped them understand more about framing. I was amazed when I saw the results, some were worthy of National Geographic. What was most fascinating to me was that, unlike National Geographic, these were photos of people from another culture, BY people of that culture. The fact that many of these children may not have even seen a camera before this and yet were able to grasp some aesthetic ideas about photography was even more amazing. The seventh grade girls, for instance, did a photo essay on girls who do not go to school. (Keeping Batwa girls in school beyond 4th grade is a huge issue in Burundi.) They went out a did shots of their friends who are not going to school and contrasted them to pictures of themselves studying, etc.

Don and Jodi are trying to think of ways of using this project to help the school in some way, any ideas would be welcome.

Don was staying at the seminary so he was joining Rebecca, Jodi, Oren, and David with the priests that night. (I stayed in bed.)

Although I did not go, Rebecca brought back an interesting report. First she told me that Oren was amazingly good. When he walked in the room he went to every person, 1 by 1 and shook hands and greeted them. (Burundian kids all do this) Then he sat down in a chair next to one of the priests and began looking through his child’s Bible with cartoon pictures. He recounted many of the stories to the priest who was quite impressed. All of this was done without one bit of prompting from his mother or anyone there.

Apparently it was one of the more hilarious evenings with one of the priests crawling around on the floor with Oren and David.

Don also hit it off extremely well with the priests but not so much by his piety as much as their mutual fondness for the local banana beer. Jodi said it was one of the more amusing evenings she had had with the priests. I was sorry I missed it.

We left on Saturday morning to return to Bujumbura. I did not feel well, but I thought that if I was getting worse, I would rather be in Bujumbura than upcountry if I was goimg to get seriously ill.

Before we said our goodbyes Don gave me back the loan I had given him when he arrived and also announced that he was also going to make a $400 donation to the school as well because of my willingness to help him out with the money and hospitality when he arrived.


We got back on time Saturday for Rebecca ( and David) to go to a Dot (Dowry Ceremony) for our very good friends Francine and Jean Claude. Again, because I was ill, I was not able to go, but I am hoping she will be able to write a bit about it in the near future.

Sunday was our day of rest once again and after church we went to the beach. Oren learned how to use goggles in the pool and really enjoyed trying to retrieve rocks from the bottom.

I was feeling better this morning, but have been going downhill since this afternoon. The power was also just cut again, so I think it is time to quit.




Bonus Photo: While waiting for traffic to move I took a picture of a woman farming. Notice how here upcountry there are no terraced fields so people cultivate and grow in very steep conditions. Apparently there are many injuries from people falling out of their gardens.

Ballet in Burundi and Other Opportunities to Minister:

Oren and friends practicing the drums after church this week.


It is interesting to see how much one’s sense of entitlement changes once one is deprived of something long enough. At this point we have settled into a weekly routine of about 6 hours of power every 24. It is by no means regular, so might go a day with 12 hours on and 36 off, or maybe 3 hours at different times. The most annoying is 6 hours between midnight and 6 am when we don’t really need it. Our washing machine and refrigerator sit empty most of the time, and are becoming more and like museum pieces--relics of a bygone age. We rarely store leftovers now, but do try to do some loads of clothes at any hour we can.

The reason I say that one’s sense of entitlement changes is that after about 6 hours in a day, I feel I am anxiously awaiting the sudden cut off. If it does not come, I feel I am positively indulging in some kind of decadent waste of power and light. (Actually, we do know that our friends in the next neighborhood get it when they turn ours off.) Tonight, for instance, it is already 9:00 pm and we have not lost it and I am actually getting a creeping feeling of guilt as each moment goes by.

This has been a really good week, despite the constant complaining I do about power. (Actually we are quite used to it now, even the kids.) Watching a dvd is no longer part of the morning routine before school for instance. But Oren does really like to go and we are feeling a real sense of connection to that community, especially since many of his friends are there including Timmy, as well as the children of our German and Danish missionary friends.

This week was the beginning of extracurricular activities and we signed up Oren once again for the ‘obstacle course’ which is kind of tumbling and muscle coordination for preschoolers. This meets on Thursday afternoons. The other more daring activity was my own offering to teach 2 ballet classes a week, (1 hour to 5-8 year olds, and 1 hour to 9 and up.) This is also on Thursday afternoons and I started this week while Oren was doing the obstacle course. It has proved to be one of the more popular offerings and I have 2 large classes (all girls). Fortunately I did bring a couple of ballet cds and had some others sent here from home this week.

The bigger challenge is trying to figure out what to tell parents about getting ballet shoes ( and tutus—which all the little girls want to take class in). The US (since 9-11) does not allow us to use credit cards overseas to buy anything in the US online. So it is a big pain to try and order on line. I will research some European sites to see if I can find a place to order these things. If anyone wants to donate a bunch of pairs of kids ballet slippers, they would be gratefully accepted.

The other big challenge is teaching the class entirely in French. Fortunately all the terms for ballet steps and positions are already French, but I found myself brushing up on anatomy and other little-used words to make sure I could communicate. The kids are happy to help me though, and dance does not require too much language.

For music I bought a cheap radio that runs on battery and broadcast my ipod through it. That way I can work without power (The class is in the late afternoon). I had my first test of that this week as there was no power at the school.

The room I teach in has a concrete floor and no mirrors, but there are barres and I felt it was not bad. (My standards have definitely changed since leaving the US.)

After my classes I go to capoeira, so Thursday is a pretty active day.

It is interesting to see how the week tends to have a rhythm of activity that moves from routine Monday through Wednesday to more and more unusual at the end and through the weekend.

On Friday Rebecca and I took a road trip up-country in a direction we do not usually go, to a town called Ijenda. We have been looking for a place to have a retreat for our expanding MCC team in November. We found some really lovely hotel-retreat centers that would be nice. There are some great views across the hill country and even some hiking opportunities. We will make a decision about where to go this week. The whole trip was accomplished in the afternoon, after school on Friday, and Oren, David and Zachee were all with us on the ride.

Saturday morning I had an opportunity to go back to the prison. I have been waiting another chance to get permission, and this time I was given 2 days notice that I would be preaching a message when we got in. I did find a good meditation I had used on Luke 7:36 about the woman who washes Jesus’ feet with her tears, and Jesus telling the Pharisee that those who are forgiven much love much, and those who are forgiven little love little. I was excited to go and picked up Zenon, a pastor and friend that morning.

When we got to the prison we found it was in lock-down and no one was being allowed in. There had been an escape attempt and some shooting inside the night before. We were disappointed that we could not get in, but I have to say, in my experience with prison ministry, not getting in for similar reasons was not a completely unusual occurrence. We will wait for God’s timing in this, (which is tentatively rescheduled for this Wednesday.)

Saturday afternoon was spent with our missionary friends from Denmark and Germany. We were at Thomas and Naja’s house this time, which is up on the hill a bit in a neighborhood which only a year ago was virtually controlled by the FNL rebels. Things have really changed around here. We played games and talked about work and how to do things well in this cultural context. It can so often feel that everything we try to do to help, has the danger of creating a dependency.

I am personally feeling that money coming from us is more of an addictive drug, than a cure for any of the myriad development problems we are dealing with here. But how to intervene in ways that really make a difference to the most vulnerable is a real challenge.

One thing I am convinced of though is that schools and education are a very good investment, as well as human resources that can help build capacity. I am glad that our MCC team is growing for that reason, and I am very pleased that we support an excellent school project for the Batwa, with a service worker and financial resources.

Saturday eveningm Rebecca made a social call to huge wedding reception -- a relative of one of the SALTers host family's was getting married. (It is important for us to make appearances at things like this.) Meanwhile Astrid and Travis brought their 5 girls and video projector over to our house so we could watch a movie. (Their house had no power.) It was a fun evening.

Sunday we have settled into a routine of church, beach, church, dinner, blog. This was what we did this week as well. It does feel like a Sabbath to have times for worship and rest.

The weather has been a bit unusual. Rainy season began for a week than stopped completely and we have really had nothing for several weeks. It feels kind of constipated, honestly. We get, at least 4 times a week, a gathering of black clouds and a bluster of wind, thunder and lightning in the hills. It looks like we are going to be drowned out, but we get about 5 minutes of a light spitting, and then the sky is clear again. We really need the rain to get things growing again. I am particularly keen on seeing our mangoes ripen. (Oren and his friends have taken to picking them off the tree green and eating them that way skin and all.)

I asked Rebecca to write a brief recount of some difficult times for our staff. Sadly her story here is not atypical of what life deals to many who live here:


On Wednesday mornings, I have started meeting for Bible study and prayer with a group of other missionary women. They are very inspiring people, who have a clear vision of the will of God for their lives. As one woman said, the will of God is not a mystery. Are you caring for widows and orphans? Are you visiting prisoners? Are you praying for and healing the sick? Are you welcoming in the outcast and the stranger? If you are wondering what God wants you to do with your life, it’s pretty easy! Just start doing the things of God. And these women are daily living with and caring for orphans, the sick, and the vulnerable.

My prayer this week has been to see what it means to do the things of God here. I do believe that we are following God’s call and that we are doing good work. It’s just that most of the time, the good work is being done directly by other people. We read the plans and offer advice; we give the funds and visit the projects; we call and support volunteers who work alongside our partners. But as far as our MCC work is concerned, we are not “implementers,” and that is very intentional. We believe that the Burundian and Rwandese partners we work with are better qualified and positioned to work effectively than we are, and we want to support them, not supplant them.

But where does that leave us? It’s hard to experience God’s presence when you are not called upon to minister in Christ’s name. Being a pew-sitter is deadly to my faith, I must admit. You’ve got to be on the front-lines in order to keep being equipped. Thankfully, my eyes are opening to see what ministry looks like for me here. Actually, it happens all over the place – not in regularly scheduled office hours or prayer sessions.

For example: Gaspard, our night guard, received a letter from his wife, saying that she was very sick. His wife and four young children live several hours upcountry from Bujumbura and he visits them once a month for a five-day weekend. His wife’s illness was a major crisis, and he left as soon as possible. In fact, he still hasn’t returned, so we pray that she is recovering at this point. This is a very heart-rending and common situation. Even if both spouses are healthy, it must be emotionally and practically hard to be separated nearly all the time. But if she becomes incapacitated, who takes care of the children? And if he must care for her, who is earning an income for the family? I admit sadly that there was an opportunity for ministry that I missed with Gaspard. I was able to send him off with his salary and an advance for medical care, but I did not think to pray with him and for his wife.

Another example: We got a call last night that our substitute night guard Epaphras had gotten in an accident. He wasn’t killed, but he was suffering. Without any further facts, we were very worried for him. Thankfully, he was well enough to come to work this evening, so we had the chance to talk with him about what happened. He was riding his bicycle and was nearly home when a motorcycle swerved in front of him. He hit and then flew over the top of the moto and landed with his face in the ditch. He suffered pretty terrible abrasions on lots of parts of his body and face, and his bones and joints are very sore. A few other people were also involved and injured. He was quite shaken as he told us about this. Truly it’s a miracle that he wasn’t killed.

But the aftermath of the accident is financially quite devastating. His bicycle was totally destroyed in this accident. And his glasses were also broken beyond repair. Of course, the motorcyclist had no insurance. And Epaphras has no steady job at this point. He only works for us a few days a month while Gaspard is at home, earning about $20 (which is an incredibly high wage for five days here). It will take him years to save up enough to buy another bicycle, and his glasses are essential, but how will he replace them? Even a medical bill of a few dollars is more than he can afford. People like Epaphras live on the edge to extent that is hard to even fathom. We were able to listen to him, and we did remember to pray with him first, and afterwards gave him his salary, some bandages, and a contribution so that he can replace his glasses.

And a final example: I realize there is a choice between just keeping my kids occupied and ministering to them. Really playing with David and teaching him things can actually be ministry. It’s giving him love and attention that he needs, and that no one else in the world is qualified or able to give him. I can choose to be bored when he doesn’t know how to stack blocks, or I can chose to minister to him and teach him a new game (he learned peek-a-boo this week, covering his own eyes and then peeking out and smiling). And we’ve known for a while that Oren struggles with being in Burundi and missing his home and family. He really needs assurance and love and direct attention. I haven’t done anything much differently in an outward way this week, but he has been very sweet and we’ve had some good moments. And in fact he has also been more obedient, for which I am thankful. I am seeing now that one of the most challenging spiritual tasks we’ve been given is to raise children who experience and understand the things of God innately because of the parenting they have received.

So, I hope that there are opportunities for ministry this next week that don’t involve other people’s tragedy, but my eyes are being opened to see them when they come.



Bonus photo: Oren entertains David at breakfast with his finger-puppet show.

A trip to Rwanda and A Parable in Action

Oren, taking a rest between breakers at Lak Tanganyika


Wow 10 pm Sunday evening and the power just went out. I wish I had started this earlier because I have a lot to say. This was a busy week all in all, and I have to admit that my nerves feel a bit shot from all that happened.

Monday through Wednesday was pretty much business as usual. We have been continuing to follow our 'splitting up of work and childcare' routine with me dropping off Oren, going swimming, and then to work in the mornings, and Rebecca going in the afternoon. While this is working, the thing that is, quite frankly, wearing about the job is the number of people that stop by the office daily to ask for money. Occasionally it is someone looking for a partnership with MCC, but most often it is someone with a sad story that wants a handout. It is hard because many people have very sad stories. It is really hard to know when to say yes and when to say no.

Jodi was in town as well last Sunday and Monday. It was good to have her here and with Robyn still with us, it meant we had another full house. (Which we like.)

Another brief moment of respite was a ‘date night’ on Monday evening. After the kids went to bed, Robyn stayed with them while Rebecca and I snuck out to a very nice local restaurant on the hill (The Belvedere) for a chocolate sundae (or Dame Noire as they call it there). It was really good, and the view of Bujumbura from the hill is really quite lovely (even at night).

On Thursday our family headed up to Kigali after a frantic morning of running around trying to get 2 days worth o things done in two hours before we left. We picked up Oren from school at about 10:40 am and headed for the mountains. We are definitely becoming veterans of this route and we made it to Kigali in a record 5 hours including the border. At this point we also know all of the border guards on both sides of the border, so going through continues to get easier.

When we arrived, we went right to the Africa New Life Guesthouse, where we normally stay, so the kids could get out and run around while I went into town to some banking. We needed to cram a lot into our time because we are trying to cut down on time spent in Kigali (for budget reasons.) We arrived Thursday, and were planning to leave Saturday.

Kigali and the ANLM guesthouse are very familiar stomping ground for Oren and he was particularly glad to see Miss Cindy and ‘Gerry Monster’ the proprietors of the establishment. (Oren mentioned several times on the trip up, his excitement about going to go to the guesthouse and help Miss Cindy pick up trash in the yard.) The feeling is mutual, fortunately, and all were glad to see the kids and us when we arrived.

That evening we went and had dinner with Ruth and Krystan, and Bridget (Zachee’s wife) who was passing through town on her way to Goma. Bridget’s organization works with several partners in Goma (DRCongo) as well as with our partner Friends Peace House in Rwanda. Having dinner together gave us a chance to talk about some strategic planning as donors to help build the capacity of Friends Peace House. Ruth and Krystan are really good cooks and made a fabulous vegetarian Indian meal for us.

On Friday we had some meetings with Friends Peace House in the morning and then took Ruth and Krystan shopping in the afternoon. All seemed to go well and we were able to get many supplies (although no computer back up batteries for when we have no power).
Friday evening we went out to dinner with Ruth and Krystan to a new restaurant in Kigali called The New Cactus. It sounds Mexican, but it is actually kind of Italian. We had a very nice time. Here is a picture of Oren and David at the table. (notice the portable high-chair we picked up in Nairobi from someone who did not need it anymore!)

We left Kigali fairly early on Saturday morning. It was the last Saturday of the month, which is community work day. No one is supposed to be out driving, but despite the intimidating Rwandese police, we went on through and did not get stopped once.

I continue to be impressed but leary of the progress I see in Kigali. It is being modernized so quickly and the government seems so earnest to bring about change. They have huge anti-aids, anti-prostitution, and pro family planning campaigns going on. (They are planning to charge a tax every child beyond a family size of three.)

Actually, it seems that every good idea is turned into law in Rwanda. For instance it is illegal to: Have a wall around your house without openings, posses plastic bags, wear flip flops in town, give money to pan handlers, have an unpainted house, or drive over 40mph. Also, there is universal health care, social security, and primary education. They have also laid fiber optic cable throughout the entire country.

The problem is that as progressive as these policies are, they are very coercive. I think the verdict about whether these changes are affecting the vast majority of the rural populaton is still out.

We got home Saturday around 4pm and we decided to head to the Club du Lac T. to refresh ourselves after the long drive. Oren was very happy to try his skill at riding waves and David was delighted to go into the kiddie pool.

After dinner we went over to Astrud and Travis’ house (our missionary friends from California/Netherlands) They have a family movie night every Saturday. They have 5 girls, three of their own and 2 adopted. The story of their faithfulness through some very challenging times in Rwanda is a real testimony of faith. They feel strongly called to be working with children and are trying to set up an association here to provide foster care and mentorship for orphans and street kids.

Last Tuesday at Bible study Travis shared with us a testimony which was a real parable in action.. We were studying Ephesians chapter 2 where Paul talks about us, though we are 'children of wrath', being ADOPTED into God’s family. We were marveling over this description of our inheritance and sonship as a result of adoption, and not natural birth as God’s children. God selects us and adopts us--not because we deserve it, but because he loves us.

Travis described the amazing testimony the adoption of their Rwandese daughter Yaya was. When they adopted her, Astrud had a 3 month old daughter of her own (Jasmine). She was breast-feeding her at the time. When she was adopting Yaya, she began breastfeeding her as well. Often women in Rwanda breastfeed publicly and many Rwandese saw her doing so with both children simoultaneously. When they saw her doing this, Travis described scenes where Rwandese women would fall at her feet sobbing and thanking her.

They were perplexed and asked a Rwandese friend why there was such an emotional reaction. Their friend said: “You don’t understand. Here, there are many orphans that families take in. Often orphans are minimally cared for, they might not eat at the family table, they are not always sent to a good school, or any school, they may be forced to be a family slave or worker, sometimes they are even sold for sex to earn income for the household. An orphan is not often treated as a full family member! When those women saw you feeding your own child and the orphan, both at the breast, they were shocked because you were treating the orphan exactly like your own daughter!!”

Travis said that the sight of seeing a white woman treating a Rwandese child as such was for many Rwandese, a living parable tantamount to the Good Samaritan—a non-Rwandese treating a Rwandese orphan as her very own child in the most intimate way. Their friend said that they were probably changing the way many Rwandese viewed care of orphaned children.

For me, it illustrated once again the amazing ministry of reconciliation offered through Christ about which John proclaimed: “O what manner of love is this that we should be called sons of God!”

For me, Travis and Astrud are a true testimony to people living out their faith on the edge. They have been willing to take risks in putting themselves out there in ways that really challenge me. With MCC we work through very established local partners, and I think that is good, but Travis and Astrud’s whole family does things like going out to the market to hug street kids (who are often pick-pockets) and share God’s love with them. We are very thankful to have them as friends who push us in our own faith.

Sunday we did something a bit out of the ordinary, we went to Marcelline’s church to hear her sing. We took Yolanda and Robin with us. It was a very nice service which was a modest 2 hours long. (I was grateful it was not 5.) She did very well and it was great to have a chance to test out my Kirundi in a church service.

We had a short break for lunch then went to the English service at the Rainbow Center where Rebecca taught Sunday school We were fairly tired when we came back and ready for bed. When we arrived home we found we had some unexpected drop-in visitors who stayed until about 8pm. This is typical visiting hours in Burundi and dinner is usually after 9pm.

This put our whole schedule off for the evening and we ended up getting the kids to bed too late. I am finishing and posting this blog at 6pm the next morning, ready for another week.

Rainy Season, A Community of Missionaries, and a Milestone for Oren

In case I had not mentioned it, rainy season began last Tuesday at 1:15 in the afternoon. It is a pleasant change here—like summer into fall in the US. The nights are cooler, the house is not getting dusty as fast, and the mountains of Congo became visible again from our front porch yesterday evening.

It is a welcome change, and our garden is really appreciating it. Our mango tree is already providing us with some fruit and we expect to see some really big ones coming soon. Rebecca and Oren planted a kitchen garden in some of our planters around the porch, and we anticipate harvesting a fairly large crop of lettuce soon as well. When I focus on the blessings of being here, one thing I do appreciate is the amount of fresh produce available here year around, especially tomatoes. I remember those brief summer seasons at home where we could enjoy eating vine-ripened tomatoes. Here in Burundi, they are the only kind you get, 12 months per year. There are no cans of anything here so all of our tomato sauce, pasta sauce, salsa, etc, is made fresh every week. This goes for pretty much everything from avocadoes to herbs like basil, cilantro, garlic and ginger, lemons, limes, orange juice etc.

It is a good time to count blessings because electrical power is not in that number. We are now down to an inconsistent 4 hours every 24 max. We have bought some rechargeable battery operated flashlights, etc. We are also looking into some alternative energy supplements including a solar panel to charge a battery. I was surprised to find how widespread the use of solar energy is outside the US. It is intriguing to me, the idea that creating electrical power could be so decentralized. What if every household in the US, for instance, had its own solar panel to charge batteries and ran their household off of that power. It would be far cheaper in the long run than paying electric bills. My own idea is to create an exercise bike that one could ride to charge a battery while watching TV, than you could run the lights or TV off of the battery the rest of the evening while relaxing.

One thing that surprised me as an American is that absolutely NO one I talk to knows what is going on. There is speculation and rumor that Burundi owes money to Rwanda, the Lake is low, machines in Congo broke down, etc. But no facts, no investigative reporting, etc. For all we might like to complain about the tabloid style muckraking of the US press, I can assure that the truth would have been long exposed by now if this was happening there, and if heads needed to roll, they would have long rolled by now. Here it seems that suppression of facts to avoid embarrassment, etc. is still quite possible by some ( I am not going to speculate in this blog!).

What I have been told by one of my partners who is well connected is that this is the new Bujumbura. It is not seasonal, this is the new reality!

OK, enough of a diversion. I am sorry this has been so much on my mind of late, but we do spend a lot of time sitting around in the dark without much to do.

This week had its ups and downs, mostly ups. It was a second full week of being able to live in our newly established daily routine. Since our Kenya vacation we have tried to establish better habits of work, exercise and parenting. David is far too mobile to take to the office, so the new routine involves me taking to Oren to school at 7:30 am, then swimming from about 8-9, then working at the office from 9-12 or running errands in town. Rebecca takes care of David at that time. We all come home for lunch and on Monday and Wednesday we swap off doing language lessons in the afternoon. On Tuesday and Thursday and Fridays Rebecca goes to work in the afternoons and swims as well. We also have Marcelline put David on her back while she is working on Friday mornings so we can work together at home and coordinate our independent efforts. It is working OK right now, definitely better than before.

We continue to have our Tuesday evening Bible study although it is honestly not very well attended these days. I think the limitation is that it is in English, and there are just not a lot of English speakers in our church who can get to it on a school night evening. Most of the Anglophone missionaries we know have families with young kids and cannot come.

The good news on that front is that we are developing a group of friends, who are in a similar situation to us and are able to get together on a Saturday. We have now had a gathering of the some 4 to 6 families in the last two Saturdays. These are all long term missionaries,
one family is working with the Anglican church, (they are German and have 3 boys)
a second family is here to work with World Relief in their AIDS awareness in churches program. (They are Danish and have a boy and girl)
The third is an American family who come from 4 generations of missionaries to Burundi. They support a local church that was planted by their grandparents. They also have 2 boys.
Our other good friends are Zachee, Bridget and Tim, and Astrud and Travis’ family (who have 5 girls, two adopted from Rwanda.)

What I find somewhat amusing is spending so much time together in a group with Europeans from Denmark, Germany, and the Netherlands who only share English as a common language. It is also interesting being a novelty as Americans.

This Saturday we had the group over to our house along with the 3 SALTers and a few other friends. It was an afternoon gathering and the type of thing our house if perfect for. We opened all the doors, took the extra furniture out on the porch, which created large play areas for kids. We also had the trampoline of course. We served Mexican food and salad. It was a lot of fun, especially for all the kids there. It was really good to feel there is a community for us here that took a while to find.

I will try to say a bit about them individually in the future. For me it is interesting to see what impulse brings missionaries out here. One thing that is not surprising is that we share some sense of call in common. I do remember working as a dancer in New York City and finding myself in classes surrounded by hundreds of people who were driven in just the way I was. It was a bit unnerving. I feel that sense a bit here as well. Our desire to do this was somewhat out of the ordinary back home, but here, we are surrounded by the exact same type of out-of-the-ordinary folks.

Apropos to this, we have been going to the English fellowship on Sunday afternoon at the Rainbow center. We have been doing this in addition to the Sunday morning service we attend. We are doing this to give Oren a good Sunday school class. Rebecca taught the class last week and I assisted this week. It seems to be going quite well and many of the aforementioned kids are part of it.

Oren and David:

David has generally been doing well although this week he was sick with a very high fever. On the second night we decided to take him to get tested for malaria. He is the only person in our family still on antimalarials, but we missed a dose last week so there was a window for him to get it. The test was negative, which was only slightly encouraging because everyone always seems to get a negative test whether they have it or not. But he did get better by this morning and seems to be fine. The doctor did prescribe bactrim for some diarrhea. This seems to have helped also. We were told that chicken pox are also going around here, and David is teething as well.

One thing I will say about raising a baby in the 3rd world is that we save a lot on baby food. There is none to buy. We just break up whatever we are having on our plates into small pieces and he eats it. He is a good eater and loves rice, bananas, mangoes, french-fries, fish, and anything he can get his hands on. He is also still breast-feeding. (There is no affordable formula here either.) For those of you with babies, I just want to let you know that you don’t have to buy expensive baby food or a food processor to provide food to your baby. They don’t in much of the world.


I will close with Oren. He is doing really well in school these days and actually enjoys going. (Many friends now.) He even says a bit in French now. I am including a picture of him in his class.

The picture I am missing though would have been taken during a midday swim at Club du Lac T. Oren really wanted to go wade in the water. I was a bit leery because he is still not grasping the idea of holding one’s breath underwater. The Lac has a chop and a surf like the ocean. Oren played a bit letting his feet get wet but decided to go in deeper. I stayed very close, but he began to get braver and let himself be hit and knocked over by the breakers close to shore. In short order he was basically body surfing with the waves crashing over him (no waterwings). He TOTALLY understood at that moment how to hold his breath and had a great time. When we got back to the kids pool he jumped in a went right underwater to kick along the bottom. It was a major milestone and an exciting day for him.

The Social Life of Oren

Oren occasionally finds the camera and goes around the house taking pictures, most are not great, but this one of David is pretty good!


Some weeks I feel I am belaboring a point, and I am sorry about that, but the power situation here is getting worse and worse. We have been averaging about 4-6 hours of power every 24 hours. What is particularly frustrating is there is no predictability about when this will be. Sometimes it is on from midnight to 5 in the morning, other days it is in the mid afternoon, morning or evening. It makes me yearn for the good old days when it reliably was off from midnight until 6 am. It is also baffling that some areas have virtually no problems (particularly rich areas like the quartiers where the President and ministers of parliament live). We are not in a ‘privileged’ quartier so we seem to have it the worst.

The prevailing rumor now is that this is an infrastructure problem and not a water shortage or anything else. They just do not have enough power to cover all of the rapidly growing Bujumbura. They expect to solve it in the next four years. (the length of our term) Sadly, it does not appear to me that infrastructure has changed much since colonialism, but I am probably wrong about that. I have also heard that Burundi, despite these shortages, continues to sell electricity to neighboring Rwanda and Congo. I don’t know if this is true, but it would not surprise me if it was, and that someone in the government is making a lot of money off of it.

It is honestly making working at home, doing laundry etc. very difficult. We can barely keep our computer batteries charged. Once again, tonight, I am racing against time finish this blog before I run out of batteries. (Sorry no proofing until later in the week.)

While this was not a traveling week, it was not without significant events. Oren completed another week of school without incident, and in fact, I am happy to report that he seems to be moving again into a more positive phase. He has been acting out a bit due to missing home and misbehaving around us, but once school began and he has been able to be with friends again, he really seems more happy and well adjusted. He has several friends including a neighborhood kid who drops by almost daily after school and they play together, either climbing trees or jumping on the tramp. (His name is Cedric.)

The other exciting news for Oren is that TIMMY is back!! Yes, Zachee, Bridget and Timmy got back early Thursday morning. Oren saw Timmy at school on Friday and was quite excited to see him back. Catching up with Zachee after his 3 months in Canada was really great. It was interesting to see a person experiencing reverse culture shock so fully. Zachee has lived his whole life in Burundi, but coming back after such a long absence seemed to be a bit disorienting for him. The other big surprise is that Timmy is not an English speaker! He apparently practiced English intensely the whole time there and came back able to carry on a decent conversation with us when he arrived. It was honestly a bit shocking for us since we are so used to speaking to him in French and to have he and Oren communicate with yelling. Now Zachee and Bridget are encouraging us to speak English to him so he won’t lose it. It is great for Oren, but there goes another francophone friend who could help him improve his French.

Actually, I had, until recently, thought he had really learned no French, but I think I am wrong now. I can give him instructions in French and he understands them, so there seems to be some progress.

If there is anything that has defined this week, it is a return to routines. I am happy for the rhythm that a school year provides and it is good to be back in that routine. Many of our friends and Oren’s have returned from long vacations, many new faces have replaced the old that left during the summer. Rebecca and I are back into our language lessons and work routine. Two big changes, one is that David is not too old to take to the office so we now go one at a time for the beginning of the week. We meet at home for lunch then switch off or do language lessons. On Thursday and Friday, Marcelline does less cooking and takes care of David while we do work together (usually at home on the computer.) This seems to be working pretty well for now.

The other big change is building in some habits of renewal, to wit: regular exercise. We have included in our rotation, the opportunity for each of us to go separately for a daily swim before we work. We have recently discovered a really good 35 meter pool right near our office. I find I have it almost entirely to myself from 8-9 each morning. The workout is really transforming my capacity to deal with the many frustrations and challenges of work here. I am really thanking God for this small blessing.

I am also happy to say that I went to capoeira again this past Thursday, as the teacher is back in town. (Just a reminder, he is the principle of the school Oren goes to, The Ecole Belge.) It is great to be able to this again as it seems to keep me agile and flexible a good counter to the backbreaking driving routine upcountry and to Rwanda.

Our SALTers are still doing quite well and are learning language intensively as well as working. We still have Robyn at our house as her host family are still dealing with some unexpected ‘drop in’ relatives that they need to let stay for a bit. (Refusing hospitality to relatives is a faux-pas here, no matter how much it may inconvenience or even impoverish you.) We anticipate her being here about 2 more weeks before she moves in. She has been anxious about being immersed in language so last week we invited Francine to come over and have dinner and stay the nights with us until Robyn moves out. She did stay several times last week and that was really fun. She is such a dear person and a really good cultural attaché.

On Friday we also had Onesphore drop in with his wife Innocente and children, Jim and Deborah. It was a very nice visit and David was very happy to play with Deborah. Onesphore did drop one small bomb on us though when he told us Innocente would have to go to France for 2 years to finish her medical residency in gynecology. (They do 3 years in Burundi and 2 in France to complete.) I can’t even say how much my heart went out to them. She will only be able to visit once in the 2 years she is gone (because of money) and of course Onesphore going out to visit her with the kids would be impossible as far as getting a visa. (Their children, Jim and Deborah are the same ages as Oren and David.)

I honestly cannot imagine such a sacrifice to finish one’s degree, yet I have seen this happen a lot here, particularly for anyone who wants to get ahead. I am hoping we can find ways to support Onesphore and his children emotionally while she is gone. (his sister will help with childcare as well, but I cannot imagine how she will be able to cope without seeing her kids for that long.)


The weekend had it share of interesting social events as well. We went to a birthday party that Oren was invited to by one of his school friends. We did not know the family, but knew they were part of the European secular NGO community. It is a very different gathering than a missionary event. The kids had many things to do in the yard like swim or jump in an air house, while the adults would sit around drinking Amstels and smoking while chatting about life here, the lack of power, upcoming elections, etc. Nonetheless, Oren seemed to have a good time, and we like to have him get opportunities to socialize with his school friends outside of school.

On Saturday evening we went over to watch a movie with Astrud and Travis’ family. I mentioned them last week. They have 4 girls and are trying to adopt a fifth. They are definitely becoming good friends and they have a family movie night on Saturday’s where the kids bring all the mattresses out into the living room and watch a kids movie projected from a computer on the wall. This week as the movie Underdog!

Sunday was also fairly busy. After church we went right to the beach because we had plans to go to the recently restarted English fellowship in the afternoon. We were going to a second service because Rebecca is committed to find or create a good Sunday school situation for Oren, which he has not had until this point (At our own church, all Sunday school is in Kirundi). Rebecca was the teacher this week. I think it went pretty well from what she said, although she came home feeling a bit like she had the flu.

I made dinner for us in the dark and finally got the kids to bed about 8:30. So it light’s out for now, (Oh, the lights are already out.)

Living in Darkness and a Trip Down South

David representing MCC on our visit to Nyanza Lac.


I am glad to say that living here is starting to change my sense of entitlement somewhat. I realize, for instance, how much I have taken electricity for granted my whole life. Well, no more. I have noted the in the last few blogs the time of the power outage, and I am noticing now that I probably have less than a half hour before we lose it. We had been on a fairly regular regimen of 18 hours on and six hours off, (at night) but that has been slowly changing, with the electricity being off earlier and earlier each night.

I do know that all of Bujumbura’s power is hydroelectric, which may explain this shortage in the dry season, but I don’t know if it will be better in the rainy season or not. What I do know, is that I am getting used to it, and it does not bother me so much anymore. True, we do have candles and flashlights, and I can still get two hours of battery power out of my computer. (Oh my, the lights just poetically went off to make my point right here, so the rest of this entry will be written in a race against battery-life time.)

This last week was the beginning of school again for Oren, and not a moment too soon for us. We really value the four hours of work time in the morning while he is there. But also, he is really much less wild in the evenings when he has had a day at school. He was definitely nervous about going. He knew he would be in a new class, and expressed some anxiety about having a new teacher. When we took him on Tuesday we met Christophe, his new teacher. He seemed like a very nice man and Oren went in on day one without any complaints. On day 2 (Wednesday) he cried hysterically when we dropped him off, but he was fine when we picked him up. Thursday he was quite content to go, and when I told him we would be going out of town Friday, he said he was very sad that he would have to miss school.

As Rebecca noted last week, it seems that being in Burundi poses the biggest challenge for Oren. I am still amazed that a 3 year old could have had such a strong attachment to place. He has had some behavior problems with us, that I know are related to his sense of loss of his past life and friends in the US. He pines for New York and Baltimore often and asks when Grandparents are going to come and visit. He does do much better when he has friends and he is fortunately making quite a few good ones now. It is nice to see this. It is also nice to see that there are about as many Francophones as Anglophones and he enjoys playing with all of them, and does try to say a few words in French to those who do not speak English. I would still say that language is not coming quickly though.

I mentioned not being in town Friday, and that is probably going to be the climax of this week’s entry. Rebecca and I decided that it was time we did a visite sur terraine to the project of one of our partner’s doing income generating work with vulnerable individuals in Nyanza Lac. Nyanza Lac is at the bottom Southern tip of Burundi, right at the Tanzanian border. It is next to the Lake and in fact, the entire drive is along the shore of Lake Tanganyika.

It is a picturesque drive, if you don’t mind the frequent bone jarring potholes. It is a lot of fertile land once cultivated extensively with cotton and oil palms. I was told that Burundi had, at one time an enormous cotton industry and export business. The war, and inundation of dumping of good-will clothes wiped out the entire industry, sadly.

Our guide was a man named Jean Bosco, who coordinates the work of our partner association called FEHV (Famille Espoir pour l’humanite Vulnerable.) They are helping repatriated refugees from Tanzania make some money through a cooperative farming project and brick making. This is a very desperate and vulnerable group, people who are returning after fleeing their homes during the war, some as early as 1972. Coming back has been complex and conflict ridden as many have found that their land was sold off, by the government, to other families. Our contribution is small, but it does support some income generating projects and encourages cooperation in that the farming is done cooperatively. We visited a tomato growing project and a brick making project.

The trip from Bujumbura takes about three hours and it gave us a chance to talk to Jean Bosco a bit more about his own life. He is originally from the Nyanza Lac region, and like most everyone we know, has a tragic and story to tell about his youth.

He is currently finishing his PhD in anthropology, though, and he loves to talk about politics, current events, history and other topics. He gave us a good summary of some of Burundi’s history, especially the more prosperous periods when the country was doing fairly well (before the 1993 crisis). The most telling conversation came when we began talking about ‘transitional justice’ the troubling topic about how or if, one goes back to try those guilty of past war crimes. I have written in earlier blogs that the current government policy is to pursue Amnesty. This is basically an acceptance of the fact that the attacks and counter-attacks between the ethnic groups is so tangled and complex, that the best course is to leave the past behind and move on.

I asked him if this was something he felt was the best course, and whether it would succeed. He answered an emphatic NO, and when I asked why, he told me that his father, his brother, grandfather, and several uncles were all murdered in the 1972 massacre of Hutu intellectuals. All of their family’s property was also confiscated by the perpetrators.

(The 1972 massacre was a particularly horrible event in which the tutsi army murdered every educated hutu in the entire country, (right down to children in primary school). The only survivors were the ones who fled.)

Jean Bosco told me that no one has ever had to answer for these crimes against his family, and everyone in the area even knows who did it, as the perpetrators had all of his family's cows and household items. He is still waiting for justice and said that nothing short of a trial and confession, with full details would satisfy him. He certainly does not see amnesty or even a group pardon as an acceptable solution to this injustice.

I asked him if he thought this would ever be possible given the fact that one of those in government now are implicated in these crimes or others against the other ethnic group, the tutsi. He did not think it is really easy or possible at this time. This did make me think of Moses and the 40 years in the wilderness with the Israelites. A time God set to allow for a generation to die off, before a new one would enter the promised land. I am not advocating this, but I am beginning to understand more the extent to which hope may not lie in the current generation, but the next. What I am finding is a deep respect for someone like Moses who had the patience to care for the ‘lost generation’ and await the maturation of the next.

The visit itself was not terribly long and probably far more interesting for the people there than for us. It is not everyday that a family of mzungus shows up to look around. They especially enjoyed seeing Rebecca carrying David around on her back. Oren was actually on pretty good behavior, despite the trial of being followed by many many children, everywhere he went.

We visited the tomato field first, then the brick making area. These bricks are made of mud, and it was interesting seeing the workers filling wooden molds by the river bank and putting them out on a flat area to dry. They are stacked into a sort of furnace shape and fired for several hours as a final step. They still look like hard mud though.

I did the expected official address, then listened to their thanks and long list of requests for many things they need. It is always a bit disheartening to realize what a small drop our efforts are in the ocean of needs.

We left after spending about an hour and a half there and did some exploration of local hotels as places for future team retreats. We did not find any that really fit the bill, but the whole trip was pleasant in general.

Saturday we did have a chance to go swimming and then went to a potluck in the evening with some other missionaries with kids. It was a very nice evening and Oren really enjoyed playing with some of his friends from school. We are slowly but surely finding a community of long-term folks who we are hoping can be a support community for us. I will try to say a bit more about them in a future email.

I would end by saying that while we have been adjusting well this last year although I am finding the constant requests for money to be a struggle. It is something that has been building up over time, and is probably because we do try to be generous, but we are developing a cadre of people who regularly come to us for handouts. I am aware of the need, but also of the culture of dependency that is so evident here. There are many people I want to help, both personally and as an organization, but it is hard to know how with integrity.

As an example, I was recently talking to an agronomist friend here about giving seeds to help peasant farmers grow food. He told me that the problem with giving out seeds is that if you do that, they won’t save any for the next year. They will sell all of their crop expecting to be able to get more from you. In other words, it seems that every thing one does to ‘help’ has the risk of becoming a source of dependency in the future.

I feel that is often the case with our income generating projects which do not really seem to be promoting entrepreneurship. That is, there is a tendency to have our beneficiaries expect to receive raw materials from us, but not reinvesting in their own production in the next cycle. How to get them to take ownership is a real challenge.

I think I should stop here, but I want to give a shout out to the faculty and students in the Dance Department at Vassar who just did the VRDT audition. I miss you all!

And also a little tribute to Isaac Barnes, a World Relief volunteer (and my roommate last Oct. while Rebecca was in the US). He has finished his year and is headed back to the states on Wednesday. When he moved into my house he bought a motorcycle for transportation. I asked if he had ever driven one and he said no. I am thankful God protected him in Buj. the past year. This is not a place I would come to learn to ride one!