Praying with the Martyrs of Buta

Rebecca sharing some reflections on the past week:

As Paul wrote in last week's blog, I have been involved intensely in the past few weeks in an effort to convene influential Protestant leaders to discuss transitional justice. It has taken a lot of energy to support a local partner in leading this effort, but it has also been intensely rewarding to be part of seeing people come together and really discuss and engage with the right questions. I have appreciated the opportunity to reflect myself on the biblical way to handle crimes, how we care pastorally for both victims and offenders, and yet also ask for justice for wrongdoing. The biblical tension between justice and mercy is very hard for us human beings to grapple with. Truly, it is as tall and as wide as the cross. And that is the only place where all the questions can be resolved. We need a lot of prayer here, especially as it becomes clear that even bishops and leaders of churches are not angels; if a Truth and Reconciliation Commission started work tomorrow, many of these same pastors would be called to defend themselves for past crimes.

And so, on Friday, a group of us went to pray. This time, we were not top church leaders, but rather a gathering of Christian leaders working on reconciliation through non-governmental organizations. We all have met at the GLI (in Uganda) and worked together, for years, discussed and shared practical experiences of grassroots peace building. But this is the first time in recent memory that this group of people gathered to simply pray together. The sixteen of us, from different corners of the country, converged on the tiny Catholic center of Buta, arriving in the early evening.

Tombs of the martyrs at Buta

We were met by Father Zacharie Bukuru, the Abbe Rector of the Benedictine Monastery established at Buta. Father Zacharie has been at Buta in ministry for more than thirty years. He was ordained there, he taught as a secondary school teacher in the Petit Seminaire (Catholic secondary school), and eventually became the Rector of the School in the late 80's. When the civil war broke out in Burundi in 1993, Father Zacharie realized that his older students were truly torn and ravaged by distrust and ethnic hatred for one another. Many wanted to leave school and return home where they could live in the safety of people of their own ethnicity. But Father Zacharie recognized that those impulses were a sign of woundedness and bondage. He worked very hard with those older students over a period of three years, praying together with them, discipling them, teaching them how to love and accept one another, even across ethnicity, as a sign of their identity in Christ. They remained one of the only ethnically integrated schools in the country during the civil war.

One early morning in April 1997, the seminary was attacked by a huge group of Hutu rebel soldiers. The faculty was cut off from the students and was miraculously saved from harm. But the rebels were able to easily enter the dormitory of the older students. They rounded up the young men, most of them around age 20, and ordered them to separate ethnically, Hutus here, Tutsis there. The students refused. Instead, they joined hands and they clung to one another. Enraged, the woman commander of the rebel unit opened fire on the students with a machine gun. Her soldiers followed her example, and the dormitory became a place of horror and death. Forty of 85 students were killed, and another forty were gravely wounded and needed years to recover. Only 3 escaped unscathed.

The forty young men who were killed that day lie at rest today in two lines of clean, white-tiled tombs, at the sanctuary of the Martyrs of Brotherhood. Next to it, inside the sanctuary, a huge fresco depicts Jesus standing over and blessing the young men, each painted individually and skillfully from their own photos from the records of the seminary. Each young man looks out at the praying visitors, some serious, some with a twinkle in their eyes, as if to say, yes, I was really flesh and blood, I was really capable of choosing to die for the truth of who I am in Christ. I was young, and yet I knew what was important.

Inside the sanctuary, in front of the cloud of witnesses.

Father Zachary led us to the tombs for silent reflection and then inside the sanctuary to contemplate the meaning of the deaths of those young men. And then he led us in singing “In the sweet by and by” in Kirundi. Singing longingly. Those were his boys. Those were his spiritual children, whom he had discipled and coached and prepared to face the death that he himself had not known was coming. He sang as if he truly missed them and was longing for the day when they might be reunited.

Shortly after the massacre of his students, Fr. Zacharie moved to France where he spent three years praying in a Benedictine monastery. At first, it seems that he never wanted to return home. But after some time he realized he was called to plant the first monastery in Burundi – exactly at the site of the horror he had experienced. Part of the redemptive power of Buta lies in the fact that it is now a permanent house of prayer. Nine monks and novices pray together six times a day, and invite guests to join them in prayer. They live the rest of their lives mostly in silence, listening for God’s voice, praying for those who cannot pray, lifting up the cries of the people and waiting for them to be transformed. As Fr. Zacharie explained, a society has doctors to heal the body, lawyers to protect justice, politicians to govern; a monk’s calling is to pray.

We followed Fr. Zacharie to the small, bright chapel at the monastery and prayed the vespers prayers together with them. The monks chant the psalms and other passages of scripture, much like they have been chanted in Europe for hundreds of years. Most of our group was Protestant, and even the Catholics among us were not accustomed to this kind of prayer, but we were all very moved. It became clear that these monks chant ALL the psalms at one time or another, even the ones about being destroyed by an enemy. Those psalms of grief and anger leapt off the page with a new freshness when they were sung in this context.

Later we gathered to share together signs we have seen of God at work among us, signs of reconciliation. One man remembered meeting in a Catholic house in 1995 and hearing a sermon about reconciliation, when it seemed like a ridiculous fantasy. Another observed, that here we were, with reasons to be divided but choosing to meet together. Others noted that along the shore of Lake Tanganyika, people were building beautiful houses in what had once been a rebel no man’s land. Fr. Zacharie offered that in the past 6 months he has seen pilgrims coming to pray at the sanctuary of the martyrs, not in little groups of 2 or 3 as before, but in busloads of hundreds of people, among them young people who are really touched by the example of other young men their age.

In the morning, I took the opportunity to wake up at 5 am and pray the vigil with the monks. Later on, some of us also participated in the 7 am lauds and mass. I was so thankful for the time of silent reflection, though the world was not at all silent. There was an absolute riot of birdsong outside the chapel and in the forest all morning. It was truly glorious. I found myself reflecting on the preparation of those 40 young martyrs. What would it look like to prepare my Sunday school children, my own two sons, to believe in their faith so whole-heartedly? So that when a test came, they would rather die than abandon their identity in Christ? It’s not that I want anyone I love to have to face that choice, but I have a deep suspicion that the kind of life they would choose to live would be far more joyful and purposeful.

Even since the shootings in Nairobi, I have been together with friends who have worried about our children in an international school. I think the school administration is thinking the same thing, because last week Oren reported that they had their first-ever anti-terrorism drill. What if terrorists attacked our little ones? How could I teach my children to trust God in any circumstance? I think we must not shelter them from pain and injustice – we need to be forthright about the evil in the world, but help them think through what is wrong and right. And I want to teach them songs and scriptures that they can store up in their hearts in case of a time of need, especially if I cannot be there to help them.

Our entire group then took some time to worship and pray together in a style more familiar to Protestants. We reflected on a wonderful letter in the New Testament, Philemon. It is a story about a victim and an offender, reconciled by Paul as a mediator. Onesimus the slave of wealthy Philemon stole from him and ran away from Colossae to Rome. But there he crossed paths with Paul, Philemon’s old friend, and there Onesimus found a new life in Christ. Onesimus had become truly free in his heart, and so Paul sent him back to Philemon to set things right, to be reconciled to his old master. “I know you’ll do the right thing,” says Paul to Philemon, “and I’ll be sure to cover any money Onesimus owes you – but don’t forget you owe me your very life!” It seems like a clear case where Philemon is a victim, reconciled with the offender, Onesimus…until we considered that Onesimus was also a life-long victim of slavery and injustice, and Philemon was an offender in that systemic crime. Paul himself had actually acted criminally against Christians in the past, so he knew what it was like to be restored by grace to the community he had harmed. It was a wonderful case study for exploring the complexities of victim-offender identity, so much a part of the story of violence in Burundi where yesterday’s victims become todays’ offenders.

Before we left, we took some time for listening prayer. We practiced silence together, asking God to show us what the role of the church might be to bring reconciliation into such a mess of hurt and injustice as this country has experienced. It was a unique experience for me to practice this with Burundian Christians, and it was a very rich experience to hear what the Holy Spirit was speaking to different ones of us. I feel like we have something to offer to top church leaders who are trying to find a single voice on restorative justice. 

We worshiped once more with the priests and then walked down to visit the martyr’s tombs for the last time. It was incredibly meaningful for me to sing our GLI theme song there, and think about the passion of those young men who died, in hope of reconciliation.   

                       We your people sing your praises, as together we are sent

To reveal the new creation in the shadows of lament.

Give us courage for the journey, 

Shepherd Jesus, be our guide

                        Help us lead with hope and passion, ‘til all things are reconciled.

Our return journey was a bit more eventful than we had hoped. We discovered a flat tire just as we were pulling out of the monastery guesthouse, but at least we were with friends who could help us sort it out. In the process of changing the tire, though, two of the bolts broke off. We prayed hard that there wouldn’t be further problems. Our group of 7 stopped in a little town nearby to get the tire repaired – I would never have identified that hole in the wall as a tire repair place, but my Burundian colleagues figured out how to be sure we were traveling with a good spare. Anything can happen! As we drove back down the steep road towards the lake, I enjoyed a few gifts along the way.

-       The coffee bushes frosted by blossoms like a coating of snow

-       Children living on top of a mountain, who had managed to level out a soccer field for themselves. Yes, it bent around like an L, but there was a goal post on either end!

-       The lively conversation in Kirundi of my colleagues and their ability to mix in enough French for me to follow some of it.

I was glad to rejoin my family by 7 pm that evening and we had a fairly quiet Sunday and a normal week until now. I’ll let Paul add more blog entry for his visit to the Hope School on Friday.

Giving Ourselves Greatly in the Rituals of Life in our Communities

JJ and daughter Zadie doing the Virginia Reel at our square dance last weekend.

I am surprised to feel a bit unmotivated this week to put up a post, especially since the last week has some very newsworthy events (at least in our lives here) worth reporting.

It has been a week since my last update on the eve of my return from a 5 day trip to Kigali last Friday, and I wanted to be able to report on that before jumping into the following week which began (on Saturday) with a party!

Yes it was time once again for our tri-yearly folk and line dance party.  It is kind of a back-to-school gathering, a time to take stock of who is still here from last year and who are the new arrivals.  We try to schedule it toward the end of the first month back from vacation so people have a chance to get settled.

The biggest challenge with regard to preparation is getting the house ready before the big day.  Rebecca and I prepare food and other parts of the house as well.  Being in Rwanda until Friday made this a bit of a challenge, especially with yoga on Saturday morning.  But by early afternoon we had the house ready—all the furniture out of the living room and moved onto the porch, the music plugged into the back up power system, food and beverages prepared, and guests started arriving after 4. 

I have noticed that the number of people coming to these events has tended to increase over the years, and I would say that at the height of the party there were at least 70 counting children.

Besides the excitement of having so many people here and the chance to celebrate the beginning of our last year, there is a ritual significance that these gatherings take on for me that I have spoken of before.  I expect we will have a total of 3 such events this year—one now, one at Christmas, and one toward the end of the year.  Dancing together, especially the figures of square dancing, is a symbol--an affirmation of our community, our interdependence, our support of each other.  I believe these dances had this intention historically—a symbol of social and cultural cohesion.  In this cross-cultural context I see even more value in this.  In some ways it seems a bit ironic to be reading more and more about the lack of social cohesion in our country at the level of our legislators, and yet finding here that differences in political ideology are not causes for culture wars in this community where Americans are a small minority.

There continue to be a larger and larger group of US citizens with families in Burundi, and this has been evident over the years in these gatherings.  It certainly feels like a big change for us as I remember being able to count the US families on one hand when we arrived in 2008 (3).

Whether the additional families is making the dancing any better is debatable, but we did have fun doing several line dances, a hora, a cotillion, and ending with the Virginia Reel before dinner.

The last Reel had particular meaning for me because among the guests was the Withrow family, American missionaries that have been in the process of leaving for a while but symied by issues of visas for 2 adopted children.  Finally Astrid (the mother) and 4 of the 5 girls will be able to leave for the US while Travis and Divine (last adopted daughter) stay to finish her visa process.  Saying goodbye to Astrid and the girls is a mixed blessing.  We are thrilled that they have been able to get this far in terms of completing this process, but sad to see them leave.

Watching Travis and Astrid do their final ‘sashees’ down the line reminded me fondly of the many times they and their family have celebrated this rite with us in the past 5 years.

After our dinner, we did have a time of prayer with their family with those of us who knew them gathering around them in a circle and praying for God’s guidance and protection over them as Astrid and the girls leave, and for a rapid completion of the work left to let Travis and Divine leave as well.

The Withrows

The dinner was great and for any who did not feast on the first round, there was at least as many desserts as their were main courses.  The kids had a blast playing, watching movies and jumping on the trampoline.  (I did take a peak in at the trampoline once or twice and was a bit shocked by the wildness of the little kids bouncing around.)  I am thankful that the large enclosing safety net keeps them all on top of the trampoline mat.  We also have mattresses against the walls that are close to the tramp. 

Among the newcomers to our gathering were several families of doctors who have moved here to staff a training hospital upcountry.  There are more than 20 counting children and it was great to meet several of them at our dance this year.  I am encouraged to see their sacrificial desire to live and work upcountry to improve the Burundi health care system through better training of doctors at the clinical level.

The celebration ended a bit after 8:30 pm and the clean up took about an hour.  I actually like the work of methodically putting everything back the way it was—putting all the furniture back into the living room.  Preparing the house is an interesting transformation made possible by the fact that the large living room has large doors out to the large porch allowing us to move the furniture between the spaces easily.  The capacity to transform our living room into a dance hall is one of my favorite features of the house we live in.

I was grateful for small things.  It is rainy season and it did rain some, but since the wind was not too strong the water did not come in onto the porch.  Also, the power went off 5 times during the party, but thanks to our back-up power system (solar and battery) no one even noticed a glitch as it switched back and forth between battery and main power several times during our dances.  I was thankful that none of these things were an impediment to us being able to dance together last Saturday.

Rebecca and I went to bed a little after 10pm.  We enjoyed sitting briefly in our clean living room when we had finished and marveled at the way things went.  There is a sense of relief in giving oneself greatly in something worthwhile and seeing it come to fruition.  We are definitely getting better at doing it efficiently and with less planning.  This round we did not really begin preparations prior to the night before and were done 24 hours later.  We did have help from friends with dishes at the end thank Tim and Jeanette our South African friends for hanging around a bit longer at the end to help with that.

Sunday morning was also to be an unusual day for me as I had agreed, after much coaxing, to go to visit again, one of the local “Mennonite Brethren’ churches in Bujumbura.  I have mentioned before the complex relationship MCC has with these churches as they are started by independent pastors who want to be affiliated with the Mennonite church for complicated reasons, but financial assistance being high on the list.  None of these churches was started under any authority of an existing Mennonite Church polity.  They are registered with the Burundi as 'mennonite' but have no official status with the World Mennonite Conference.

We seem to have the opposite problem of some of our Evangelical missionary friends.  While they are working to bring people here into a relationship with the Lord, we, at MCC are doing what we can to politely push away churches that are forming themselves and claiming to be Mennonite.  (Self-Evangelism?)  Definitely a problem of the modern age!

But in fairness, when I go to one of these churches for a visit, as I am often invited to do, I am always pleased by the enthusiasm of the worship within.  The congregation, whether they embrace Anabaptist theology or not, are always lively and vibrant in their worship and sing beautifully.

The reason for my attendance this week was the opening of a new church.  My appearance there was important to the ‘bishop’ of the MB church here as a sign of blessing from what I think they imagine to be the ‘great white church patrons.’

child outside the church 

As usual, I arrived at 9 for the 9am service which began at 10.  There were many logistics that were planned at the last minute, like renting a generator, and then getting gas for it (separate trips) when it was found that the power was off in the neighborhood. 

When it finally did start, though, I did really enjoy listening to and watching the 6 choirs that comprise that church of about 100 people. Each choir had prepared songs and dances and the worship time was really beautiful.

intercessor

There was a very intense time for prayer intercessors, a group of old men and women that gathered around 2 men playing drums furiously while they sang and dance with abandon.  At the end several women were prophesying in a kind of trance. I felt moved to dance around wildly as well and had a funny thought about the quote in the book of Samuel “Is Saul among the prophets?” at the thought of what the spectacle of me participating in the ritual would have looked like.   Very charismatic group!

The service ended about 4 hours later and I was thankful that I was not asked to share a meal with them.  I was able to join Rebecca and the kids in the late afternoon at Club du Lac Tanganyika before our small group in the afternoon.

The pastor insisted that I take a photo of the congregation gathered outside with me in front of the new building.  I put it here and turning it black and white to capture the feeling I had about doing it.  I really did not like being put on display and even asked to pose as a ‘great white missionary’ bringing the Gospel to the savage heart of Africa.  That is not what Burundi is now and there are plenty of Burundian Christians who are capable of sharing the Gospel and planting churches in this mostly Christian country.  But I am learning more and more that when we come, we inhabit roles and identities here that we are put into, even if they are stale and unsupportable.  This is the way that I am supposed to look to those who invited me.—The Great White Hope-- bringing the Good News... and other more tangible benefits.

I am happy to say I had another experience this week that stands in stark contrast to the experience in the church on Sunday.  It was the opportunity to go with Rebecca to a gathering of leaders of all the major Burundian protestant churches as well as representatives from the UN human rights office to talk about a mechanism for the ‘Church’ to have a voice in the CVR (truth and reconciliation commission) that is being formed.  This is a very delicate political issue and one that will affect most Burundians.  How does one bring healing and reconciliation by righting past wrongs?  By exposing to the light of truth, the crimes of the past—particularly the atrocities of the past 14 years.

The problem is immense and one of the biggest complicating factors is that the govt, currently in power was one of the rebel groups in the past who were accused of many of the atrocities.  Can we expect such a govt. to allow this process to go forward?  And what is the role of the church in this?  Can Christians bring a unified voice into how this happens?  What is the role of justice and grace in all of this? 

These are important questions and ones the church has not been prepared to answer because historically the church in Burundi has not been very involved in politics as an institution.   There was much debate during the meeting and a recognition that church leaders themselves need education about the issues at hand.  Most know the Bible for instance, but have no idea what is in the Arusha accords.

One of the highlights of the event was listening to Rebecca deliver a meditation on what conflict resolution and restorative justice look like in the Bible.  She used the passage in Matthew about Jesus’ instruction on how to restore one’s brother to the church when he is wrong.

To me, the most interesting point that came out of the debate was the recognition, that unlike other institutions of justice, the Church does have a responsibility to minster to the offender as well as the victim.  I think it is true that we look at justice more from the point of view of the victim’s rights.  But the church has the ministry of seeking and saving the LOST.  The importance of restoring the offender as well as the victim has interesting ramifications in a transitional justice process.

I would say that outside those highlights the rest of the week is a bit of a blur, but that is not entirely true.  I did have one bad and particularly memorable event.  I was inspecting our roof for leaks and climbed the homemade ladder fashioned out of eucalyptus branches hammered together by a local carpenter a couple year ago.  I climbed it, and about 10 feet up it snapped in half.  I fell to the ground suddenly almost pulling the rain gutter with me.  Surprisingly I landed on my feet but had scraped much of the front of my body.  I am not in terrible pain, but it was a shock and reminder of the hazards we have here that we take for granted at home as being safe.  (ladders that do not snap in half)

We were all affected here by the reports of the Al Shabaab attack in Nairobi.  Although I do feel relatively safe here, I think many of us here live with some fear of something like that happening like that.  In truth, I think we face greater risks driving our cars upcountry from oncoming traffic, but the situation in Nairobi leaves a deeper psychological anxiety for us living here as ex-pats.  (I will add that we were relieved to hear that all MCC staff in Nairobi were safe although the MCC office is just a few blocks from the shopping Mall.  It is a place we frequent when we are in Nairobi ourselves.)

Ernie, center with fellow Kairos brothers.

I end with a tribute to a friend and mentor, a fellow missionary who was working with the Lummi Indian Nation in Washington State.  Ernie Shultis was a friend and co-worker in the Kairos prison ministry.  We worked together in a prison in Upstate New York for many years.  This was probably one of the most important preparations I had for the work I am doing here as I learned deeply what it means to be obedient to the cross under his guidance and leadership.  He died suddenly of lung cancer with about 2 weeks between diagnosis and death.  I know he is with the Lord now and many will miss him greatly.   “Precious in the sight of the Lord are the death of his saints.”

Orientation to Advocacy, Conflict Metals, and Other Regional Issues

New Regional Peace Specialist, Patrick (center) at our house with Felix and wife Alex, and Matt our SALTer.  


Among the things I will not miss when we leave here next summer is driving upcountry on muddy roads in the rain on steep slopes. I say this having just come back from a five day trip upcountry and to Rwanda.

The occasion was part of an orientation we are giving a new service worker named Patrick. Although Patrick is part of the MCC-DRC team and will be living in Bukavu, the fact that we are only a couple hours away from him and the DRC reps are based in Kinshasa, means that we will be giving him some moral support--as well as help out in emergencies.

He is also here to do some regional coordination as he is assigned to be a Great Lakes Peace Coordinator and will have, among his jobs, the task of trying to create meaningful advocacy positions for MCC in the region. MCC does have advocacy offices at the UN in New York and in Washington DC, and we do lobby in coordination with other organizations for peace building and non-violent conflict resolution.

MCC has been trying to create some consensus in our organization on the issues in the region and it is surprisingly difficult as programs in Rwanda and Burundi can hear different things and have a different perception on the Eastern Congo conflict then those in the Congolese MCC program. Patrick will work to understand the issues so that MCC can speak meaningfully into public opinion with some on-the-ground expertise from our local partners.

Patrick arrived on Thursday of last week at about 2 in the morning and planned to spend about a week with us. I had set up meetings for him on Friday with someone from the UN office here and with an INGO called the International Conference for the Great Lakes Region. This was for the morning and in the afternoon we were to talk to some local partners and someone from AFSC (The American Friends Service Committee.)

I was happy to accompany him as I have been interested in the regional conflict and wanted to hear some thoughts from some regional experts. Each meeting shed a tremendous amount of light on the issue, but did make me realize how hard it is to find a simple solution.

Among the most interesting discussions was the one with ICGLR. They specialize in the area of conflict metals and are working to create a registration system for 'clean' mines. They explained to us which metals were prevalent in the region and said that gold and coltan were among the most valuable. I am sure many of you who are reading this have heard about coltan because it is an important ingredient in the fabrication of computer processors.

One thing they said was that gold was by far the most valuable and immediately usable. 5 kilos of gold was worth far more than 5 tons of coltan, thus making it much easier to move out of the country. Gold also does not need to be smelted in China or Malaysia like coltan does.

What I found interesting as I learned more about conflict medals was the way in which some of our lobbying efforts in the West to stop these metals from being drivers of conflict, have actually made matters worse. They referred to the Dodd-Frank law which has language making it illegal to buy metals from conflict regions like Eastern Congo. This blanket legislation put many legal 'clean' suppliers out of business, forcing them to go underground and sell at lower prices on the black market—thus exacerbating the problem of buying from rebel supporting mines.

They also pointed out that the regions that supply the most coltan (Katanga—in Congo) and other places in South America, are not suffering from any conflict.  So the larger questions about how these minerals seem particularly contentious in that region and whether they are the real drivers of conflict are interesting.

I think there has been a tendency in our media to try to reduce the conflict to a first world interest in mining these metals, but the sad reality is that it is far more complex. In my own opinion, one of the major drivers has been ethnic conflict between hutus and tutsis, as well as a long history of Mubutu welcoming many rebel groups from other nearby nations to make a home there.

At this point it is more or less a feudal society, uncontrolled by the Congolese government, with rebel groups setting up fiefdoms in various regions. At this point the main conflict driver seems to be the long history of conflict. There is almost no other logic, and no government strong enough to bring the area under some kind of law and order.

The discussions with the UN representative and others confirmed this as well. Rwanda has been playing a negative role as well, but the motives cannot be reduced to a simple interest in riches of the region or as a proxy for those interests by other nations.

It was encouraging to hear that companies like Apple and Intel have been working to buy from 'clean supply chains' which is where metals come from certified mines through recognized mining companies, and smelted by certified smelters. They are, of course, not the only buyers on the market. China and Russia are also large consumers of coltan and not as concerned with where it came from.

All of that in one day. We had Jennifer and our new SALTer Matt, and Felix our program assistant over to meet Patrick that night. On Saturday we took him to the beach after yoga. Jennifer took he and Matt out Saturday night then he came to church with us on Sunday.

On Sunday afternoon I took Patrick and Oren to an ultimate frisbee game that happens on Sunday afternoons with other ex-pats. I have not gone before but know many people who do. Patrick turned out to be an excellent ultimate player and really enjoyed the opportunity to go out and play. I was hoping Oren would want to join in as well, but he did not really feel ready to jump in with the other adults. (His friend Samuel was there from school, but he was still not inspired.) I have been working to improve his frisbee skills and hopefully he will be able to play soon.

Patrick, Felix and I with Teresa our SALTer

By Monday morning, I think he was resonably refreshed and we headed up to Kigali (Patrick, Felix, and I) where I wanted him to talk directly to some of our Rwanda partners and meet the team that is in Rwanda. As it happened, Michael, the other DRC service worker was arriving in Kigali from a trip to the US the next day.

We had interesting meetings on Monday and stayed at a pretty lousy guest house (unless you hate water and electricity and beds larger than a cot). We met with the SALTers Julia and Teresa who seemed to be settling well into their host families and language lessons. It was good to see them doing well after 2 weeks and we enjoyed a pizza meal together at Sola Luna.

In a meeting with Matt and Food Security partners.

We saw Matt the next morning and met some partners as well. Matt was also just coming back from a trip to the US for a wedding. It was a fairly busy work day for all of us as there seemed to be an endless stream of meetings to plan and trouble-shoot, put out fires, and even start a few where things were getting bogged-down.

By evening we were worn out, but all went out to the airport to pick up Michael. It was his first time to meet the SALTers as well as his colleague Patrick in person. We had a nice evening together getting acquainted. I was also trying to coordinate a ride for them from Kigali to the DRC border at Bukavu and was grateful that Matt offered to make the 6 hour drive to drop them off and come back the same day.

They left early Wednesday morning and Felix and I spent the day in more meetings. I had one more dinner with the SALTers to discuss any last minute issues that night and spent my last night in the bad guest house.
I was happy to get on the road Thursday morning back to Burundi, although it was to be a very long day with an ambitious program.

The plan was to go back passing by the Hope School in Mutaho then continue on to Gitega and meet partners and spend the night. This made for a very long day and, in fact, we finished eating dinner close to 11pm in Gitega by the time it was all said and done.

The visit to the Hope School was quite inspiring. I was able to get a thorough report and the successes (and failures) of the past academic year. The most impressive sight was the new library! This has been a long time coming and the construction is finally done and they are doing the final touches on the outside painting.

Innocent in front of new library.

The shelves and the books were all inside and well arranged. They had hired a librarian as well. The solar lights were working and it was truly inspiring to see this project realized. We are hoping the solar lighting will contribute to better grades as one of the biggest problems is students not being able to study after dark, and having to do work for the family in daylight. We will see whether this can bring about change. (Sadly the biggest problem mentioned in terms of success in school, still continues to be hunger.)

We spent several hours there and I talked to Innocent the director of our partner organization as well as teachers, the principles, and several students about the past year. It was interesting to hear different perspectives on how we can continue to work for student success in a country where less than 40% of children even succeed to pass a test to get them beyond 6^th grade.

The only sad part of the trip was remembering last year's SALTer Teri-Lynn who is not here this year, and is apparently missed by everyone at the Hope School. I believe the English curriculum she left is in use at the school now. (Teri-Lynn is now teaching at another school for Indian children in Northern Ontario, here is her blog link. Teri-Lynn's Teaching Adventures.)

In the late afternoon we left and headed to Gitega where we met two more partners. We went out to an interesting restaurant for dinner connected to a cultural center. It would have been perfect if it had not started pouring rain followed by a power outage. We sat shivering in the dark as it was an open air pavilion. Our food, for four of us in an empty restaurant, took 2 full hours to prepare.

I know better than to try to understand why or how to avoid this problem. The more you probe to get something that takes less time, the more the servers will try to tell you something they think you want to hear. It was not my favorite night out, but not an atypical experience in Gitega where it tends to be cold and rainy with inconsistent power and water. At least the company was good as we were with a partner, who is a friend, and our service worker Melody, who has been doing well, but misses Yolanda who left earlier this summer. (I know you are reading this Yolanda. Jean Pierre and Fidelie say Hi.)

Felix and I stayed at one of our partners' guesthouses but got up at 6 am on Friday morning as we were anxious to get back to Bujumbura after 5 days on the road. It was still raining in the morning and the driving was tough.

We got back around 8am, and I was happy to find there was time for a swim. Rebecca was still at the pool by the time I arrived. It was good to have a swim after a week without.

Rebecca and I caught up in the morning while the kids were in school. Our work sometimes seems so separate. She was parenting but also had many things on her plate work-wise. Her big project in the past two weeks has been to be a connector of Church leaders, Protestant, and Catholic to create a mechanism to speak as one voice into certain national political issues—particularly the formation of a Transitional Justice Committee called the CVR. This is a sensitive issue and the church has wanted to advocate for a restorative justice approach but has a difficult time speaking with one voice as they are not always in agreement on many things.

She has been helping coordinate meetings between different leaders and has asked me to add a note for any praying people to pray for her to hav the courage to do this. It has taken a lot for her to do this and can be intimidating to meet with fairly high level people in the Religious community as well as others.

It is good to be home and I was very happy to see the kids this afternoon. We are still behind in our work but feel very excited about the things we are doing.

Tomorrow we are having a big square dance and we look forward to spending time with new and old friends who will be there. I will try to do another update soon on that.

School Days--Tag-teaming Homework and Extracurriculars

The kids dressed and ready for school, saying goodbye to Bella, our retriever.


Once again, rainy season announced itself very suddenly at 7:02 pm this past Sunday in Bujumbura.  It arrived in the form  of a powerful storm with winds like I have never seen here.  It lasted about an hour and blew everything off of our back porch including a table and some chairs.  Many people in the neighborhood lost tiles off their roofs.  Our friends the Millers told us they watched in shock as their trampoline blew across the lawn and over the wall into the neighbor's yard.  (I am glad our trampoline is set up in the garage.)

The rainy season is always a welcome change, despite its often violent arrival.  The air gets cooler and clearer.  It is also the time when the mangoes on our trees begin to ripen.  I would say we have a medium size crop on the two trees in the front this year.

It has been nice to enjoy our homestead all of this past week.  Since our return from Kigali last Friday, we have been here.  To have a 5 day work week in Bujumbura seems like a luxury.  Since it was the first week of school as well, the sense of normalcy was even more satisfying.

We are fully 'back in the flow' of things here.  It is the mid-year reporting period so we are extremely busy on the computers and will be for the next two weeks.  But are now quite used to the ebb and flow of our job here.

I feel like we are not making this year as hard on ourselves with regard to extra-curricular activities just yet.  We did send Oren to tennis one day last week which he loved. We have decided, with him to let him do that and not to continue karate, which took up most of his afternoons on Tuesday and Thursday last year.  (I have to admit that he did seem uniquely un-gifted at karate despite his commitment to it for 2 years.)  Neither my dance class nor soccer has started up again.  I think when it does we will all be at the Ecole Belge on Friday afternoons.  Hopefully David will be able to play as well.

The Ecole Belge certainly looked different upon the return to school last week, and there was, one night last week, a meeting with the administration to explain the changes.  Tighter security is what is immediately evident.  The walls are now all about 10 feet high with razor wire on top.   The gateway entrances are reinforced and there are concrete barriers behind them.  All the windows of the classrooms now have reinforced metal bars on them.  There is also a public address megaphone mounted in every classroom.

This was apparently all a gift from the US embassy.  It is probably prudent given some vague concerns last year about possible Al Shabaab attacks in Bujumbura.  But it does make the school look quite a bit more like a prison.

Jodi and Jennifer were yoga participants this week.

It is interesting to note the increased number of American kids that are now attending this school.  I remember when Oren was the only American kid in the school in our second and third year.  They are still the smallest minority there, but we have seen the numbers grow steadily, and I wonder what it might look like in 10 years.  The general number of students has also been growing at a rapid rate and the primary school is at least 3 times bigger than it was from our first year here.

Both the kids seem very comfortable and integrated at this point.  Oren has already had friends over for lunch several times in the past 10 days.  He also began the school year (1st week) with a fairly complicated 3 sentence dictation.  ( A big jump from last year's 10 vocal. words.)  I am impressed to see him do it quite well as we practice it.  He writes very neatly in cursive now and is required to do his written work with a cartridge pen.  (These are things I will miss when he is back in the American system next year.)

You all in North America might find it hard to believe that we have to be concerned about 'screen time' here.  But in this information age, our kids can get access to online games even here.  Fortunately we don't have any Wii's or Playstations to contend with.  But at this point they are not allowed to play on the computer or ipod without permission.  (Satellite TV is also available here, but we do not have it.)

The weekend was good.  We did yoga on Saturday morning on our porch and were joined by Jennifer and Jodi Mikalachki (who you might remember worked for us.)  She is still working in the country and it was good to see her again.

In the afternoon we went to Cercle Hippique (better known as the horse place.)  The horses continue to look as decrepid as the aging stables, but riding lessons are still offered and watched some people taking a lesson.  Oren and David both took a short ride on horses themselves, something they love to do.

On the way home we stopped at a newish Indian restaurant in the Asian Quarter called Koh-i-noor.  Oren loved the brightly lit interior, which to him seemed very 'clean and American."  (It seemed more in the Dubai style to me.)  But was quite new looking.  The food was very, very good, and it turns out the chef used to work at Khana Kazana.  It is nice to know there is still as good Indian restaurant in Bujumbura.

We went to church on Sunday and played family games in the afternoon before small group.  Small group remains an important part of our lives and it is good to see most of the same people are continuing to be a part even after we left off over the summer.  Currently our members include JJ and Courtney who are from the US working with World Relief, Tim and Jeanette, our South African missionary friends, Genet and Malcomo from Ethiopia working with Catholic Relief Services, Philip and Ester, from Kenya working with Food for the Hungry, Goretti and her daughters, she is Burundian and teaches at a secondary school, Aloysius, also Burundian but emmigrating to Canada soon.  We continue to appreciate the opportunity to share and pray together in this cross-cultural group.  I am always amazed at how much I am blessed from listening to, and praying with others in this group.

The new week has already begun at it promises to be challenging.  Rebecca is upcountry right now as part of a team of Protestant Church leaders (most denominations represented) to begin to find common ground to work together and to find the church's role in the long awaited 'transitional justice' process.  This remains a great challenge in Burundi as many see the need to address old wounds, long unhealed, to bring closure and justice to those who suffered through atrocities in the long years of civil war.  But to unearth these things, and to try to find a way to bring reconcilliation rather than reinforcing a recurring cycle of vengeance is a profound challenge.

There are some visionary church leaders here who see that the church can play a significant role in making this possible.  Perhaps a role which may surpass the capacity of the State.  For Rebecca, this work is exciting and somewhat intimidating, but MCC has a strategic priority of promoting the establishments of just relationships.

My role in this is in the background.  It would be great to be working side-by-side all the time, but practically speaking, one of us must parent while the other works.  At the end of the week it will be my turn to work, returning to Rwanda and visiting partners upcountry.  For now, I am enjoying the time being with the kids and helping Oren ace his dictée today.  (He did it at home 5 times, I think he is ready.)

Jérôme entre en troisième année.  Il a des crayons de couleurs.  Son papa lui demande de prendre soin de ses affaires.