Root Canals, Poisonous Beetles, and Other Inconveniences

David loves to play with Oren, but Oren usually makes the rules.  This game involved Oren hosing David down while he tried to run away.


Some weeks have a very distinct nadir and zenith, others seem to flow pretty evenly.  This was one of the former.  the low point for me was Tuesday morning.  I mentioned that I had been complaining of a toothache and it was particularly bad when I woke up.  I had an appointment to go to the dentist for a root canal (I thought) and was not looking forward to it, except for hope of some relief from the pain. 

What I was not expecting to find as well was a distinct burning sensation on my left arm near the bicep when I woke up, as well.  I was alarmed to find that I had what looked almost like a bad burn, blistering flesh, and in fact where my arm had been closed, I noticed another smaller burn on the other side of my elbow--like something had started on the upper arm and spread to the other side of the elbow when it was bent in my sleep.  Honestly my first thought was of those horrible flesh eating staph infections I used to hear about on TV in the US. 

I was on an antibiotic for my tooth so I was not sure what else to do.  When the kids and Rebecca woke up we took Oren to school then headed for the clinic to see a doctor.  He gave me a prescription for an antibacterial wash, and told me I should be fine soon.  There was no explanation of what it was. 

I called some of my public health family in the US for ideas.  There were speculations of everything from spiderbites to an allergic reaction to the antibiotic I was on--but no conclusions.

I covered the sore as best I could the rest of the week and went about my business, hoping it would not get worse.  (I did quit the antibiotic just in case.)

Tuesday was the same day I had two dental appointments, the first was at the central hospital to have an X-ray done of the tooth where I would have the root canal.  The second appointment was to fill a small cavity he had found the week before. 

I found, with some difficulty, the stomotologie dept. at the hospital for the x-ray.  After a short wait I was taken in where the dentist took a quick x-ray.  No lead apron here, in fact, the dentist held the film in my mouth with his index finger while he took the x-ray.  Later that day I went and saw him at the office for my filling.  He did use novacaine which deadened my tongue and lips but left the tooth nerve intact.  It was very painful when he drilled and I was glad when it was over.  This gave me considerably more reason for concern about the root canal scheduled for Thursday.  I even began to reconsider the wisdom of deciding to do it here rather than go to Kenya or Rwanda.

Nonetheless, I pushed through the day, taught ballet in the afternoon, and Rebecca and I were both up late working on the database of our program. 

Wednesday was no worse as far as my arm was concerned, but it was also no better.  To add to our misfortune though, our great internet connection went out and we had to call a technician to come.  Needless to say, he did not get there that day.

Thursday was, surprisingly, the turnaround day.  It was a day that I really prepared spirtually for an ordeal.  I had a nice morning quiet time with prayer and Bible reading.  (Among my prayers was that the procedure would be painless, or that I would be able to bear the pain if it was not.)  I took a long swim after dropping Oren at school.  I went to the dentist at lunchtime.  He showed me the x-ray of my tooth and said it was necrotic and a root canal was essential.  He told me to open my mouth and before I could say a word he began drilling furiously into the tooth.  I sat still and stunned and could not believe he had not asked me about novacaine.  I was prepared to let out an awful scream when he came close to the nerve, but then, I felt a click, and he said:  "I am now in the nerve chamber of the tooth." 

I could not believe it!  Where was the pain?  I asked him how it was possible that he could have drilled into the nerve without me feeling it.  He said:  "The tooth is dead, trust me, I know what I am doing."  He took about 20 minutes to clean out the nerve chamber and pack it with some kind of disinfectant medicine.  I have to go to finish next week. 

I really felt that prayer was answered quite dramatically.  There was actually no pain in this procedure, and it did not seem particularly complicated at all.  I asked him how much this was all going to cost and he told me about 160,000fbu ($120).  That is not bad for a root canal!  Another reason you might consider coming to Burundi for a vacation.  You can get some really cheap denal work done here.

Another high point of the day was dinner with Robyn and Brandon, our SALTers who we invited over because we had quite a bit of leftover guacamole which we knew would go rotten if we did not eat it that night.    (Our cook had taken all the avocadoes I bought for smoothies and made them into guacamole.)  Because we fast from after dinner on Thursday to Saturday night we knew that the guacomole would not make it.  Robyn and Brandon were happy to oblige us anc came over for an ecclectic meal of homemade tortilla chips and guac. followed by thai peanut noodles.

Friday morning was the final surprise of the week.  I was swimming at the pool and one of the attendants there, a woman, saw my arm.  She asked me what happened.  I told her I thought I had been burned somehow.  She looked at it, got very animated and said 'Non' and explained that it looked like something caused by a small animal called colloquially 'Beatrice' she did not have great french so could not tell me what this animal was exactly.  She showed me a scar on both sides of her elbow like the one I had.   When I got to the office, I asked Zachee what 'Beatrice' was.  He said it was a small beetle that lived in all of our houses.  (Here is a link to information about it: http://www.forces.gc.ca/health-sante/wn-qn/adv-avi/Paederus-eng.asp)

So apparently some of the animals that run all over our walls have an irritant in them that they can emit through their skin when they are threatened.  I guess one got in the bed and on my arm at night, not an entirely pleasant thought, but it is good to know it is not a deadly flesh-eating bacteria. 

We were also happy to get our internet connection working again on Friday, AND to finish all of our database program plan entries for the coming year.  Friday felt like a kind of night of celebration as we began the process of replicating to our homeoffice.  We also had some good Skype conversations with families.

Saturday was really a fabulous day  (The zenith of the week).  It began with morning yoga which is now attracting a growing group of ex-pats, --our friend Duncan, his fiance Kristy, and another friend joining our SALTers for the morning ritual at 8am.  This is now usually followed by coffee/tea and muffins and conversation.  (Some even tote along their computers to enjoy our pretty good internet connection.) It is a very nice way to spend the community service time on Saturday morning.

Rebecca worked on a sermon Saturday afternoon that she preached on Sunday afternoon.  We went to the pool with the kids later that day and had a very nice swim then ended the evening with dinner at a new Indian restaurant with our South African friends Tim and Jeanette.  It was a great day.

Sunday has also been good.  Our normal routine is church, followed by extended play time with the kids, we did family trampoline jumping then built a lego multistory tunnel and train track.  David was thrilled to be able to play with Oren,  and they did pretty well together.  (Oren can be pretty easily annoyed at David who tends to be a bit destructive when playing with the things Oren has built.)

We went to the English service in the afternoon where Rebecca preached on 'worship', and I watched the kids in Sunday school.  This was followed by pizza at Ubunu, a restaurant by the lake. 

The kids were tired when by the time we got home and went to bed shortly after their baths.  (Despite Oren's claims that he was going to stay up all night.)  Rebecca was invited for a 'girls night out' with some friends and has just arrived home as I finish this entry.

(Extra note:  Despite the fact that I have been out of my job at Vassar directing the Vassar Repertory Dance Theatre for 2 years now, I could not help but feel a pang of nostalgia for the Bardavon Opera House Gala that happened this weekend.  Any Vassar folks that are reading this, my heart goes out to you all!  I trust that it went fabulously!) 

Phases of 50 Part 1: Mutama

Antiqued: Rebecca and I went out Thursday for a date night for my birthday dinner.



There are two compliments that still take some getting used to here in Burundi.  The first is the loud acclamation you may receive (especially if you are female) of how FAT you are.  Fatness is seen here as a sign of robust good health and well being.  The other expression which is most often reserved for men is MUTAMA.   It literally means 'old man'.  It is a sign of respect and ever since I have arrived here I have often been introduced as MUTAMA because I am the representative of my organization.  Again, being an old man is considered to be an honorable thing here, but I have not, until recently been able to hear it as a compliment.

But now I have decided to live comfortably in that expression, because I crossed a landmark birthday.  I am now 50 years old.  It does not seem possible, I don't feel physically different than I have for the past 20 years, (except for diminishing near vision) but here I am--a certified MUTAMA now.  I am not sure if I feel any wiser, but I am aware of having collected quite an eclectic array of experiences beginning with a childhood in South Asia (5th grade in Iraq notwithstanding), college and an early dance career in St. Louis (my 20s) and 30s in New York City, a brief stint in Seattle, then Poughkeepsie NY in my 40s, and now a career change to begin life as a missionary in Africa in my 50s.  What has it all taught me?  I think the proverb says it best that says:  "Fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom."  But I think it took me about 4 decades and the birth of a child to understand that fully.

My Birthday was on Thursday, but we decided to actually celebrate it on Saturday.  Rebecca had sent out many invitations over the week, to our many Burundian and expat friends as well as team members.  We decided we would have an open-house, pot-luck, contra-dance, event between 3 and 7pm, as most of us had children.

I have written before about these parties we have had occasionally involving dancing.  Thanks to our predecessors the Carrs, we have found that we can put all of the living room furniture onto the porch for seating, then turn our entire living room area into a ballroom.  We had many friends stop by for a short visit or a longer stay and taught several dances.  The Virginia Reel remains the favorite though.  I think everyone had a good time, especially the many kids who played on the trampoline, watched movies, danced, and ran around the Yard.

Oren especially of loves Birthdays--anyone's--and he was very excited about helping mommy decorate a cake, wrap presents, put up balloons and streamers, and other projects involving cutting, pasting, painting, hanging, cooking, etc.  Here is a picture of him with the cake, he did the decorating with M&Ms and sprinkles himself.

That was definitely the highlight of the week.  The 'lowlight' has been a steadily worsening toothache that at this point feels like a migraine headache every time I eat.  (Actually fasting this week was a cinch because of it.)  While I have been reticent to consider dental work in Bujumbura, I had heard that a new 'modern' Egyptian dentist had started a practice in town.  Our SALTer Yolanda went to him last week and gave a good report.  I decided to go on Thursday.

The dental office looked like something I would see in the US and the dentist seemed to know what he was doing.  He even spoke some English.  He found a cavity around the point where there was pain and filled it quite quickly (without anesthesia) but really no pain as it was superficial.  He did say that he doubted this was the problem given the severity of the pain, and asked me to come back the next day if there was no improvement.

There was no improvement but I could tell more clearly that the pain seemed to be coming from deep inside a back molar.  He immediately diagnosed the need for a root canal. ...  Root canal are two words one does not really want to hear in third-world country.  I began to wonder what I should do.  He said he could do it and that it would take 2 visits.  I considered my options: drive or take the bus to Kigali several times in the next 2 weeks, or go to Kenya and spend a week or more there alone leaving Rebecca with the kids.

As unpleasant as it sounded, I am opting to stay here for the procedure.  (At this point the pain is so intense that if he had offered to yank it out with a pliers right then and there I would have taken him up on it.)

So that is where I am now.  I will have the first procedure Tuesday before the ballet class I teach in the afternoon at Oren's school.  (I am hoping I will not be too sore.)  I don't know how easily it is to get strong pain killers here, but I am hoping they are available.  Please pray that this procedure goes well and that I will not suffer any complications from it.


In other news, Oren was off from school all week so we took the opportunity to go upcountry on Tuesday and Wednesday to visit our partner in Gitega and Jodi in Burasira.  The weather has been wet recently and we were a bit worried about how bad the road between Gitega and Burasira would be.  (Burasira is about a 1 and a half hour drive off the main road between Bujumbura and Gitega.)

We got to Gitega midmorning and spent most of the day meeting with partners to discuss their final reports and 2010 plans d'action.  It was generally productive but the whole time rain clouds gathered and we had a huge cloudburst.  By the time we headed to Burasira the roads were very muddy and we had to use 4 wheel drive all the way.

We got to Jodi's home about 5pm and spent the evening chatting with her.  We had also brought her a jeepload of supplies including cooking gas, fruits and vegetables, mail, yogurt, cheese, etc. Oren was ecstatic about  being there.  He loves her house, the nearby seminary, her garden, her books, etc.  He enjoyed the whole experience more than any of us.

The visit was short as we had much work waiting for us at home.  We knew also that the roads would be worse as it rained most of the night.  Our 4wd had gotten us through before though so we were trusting it would work again.

When we began traveling we were stunned at how bad the roads were, nothing but trucks with 4 wheel drive could get through.  It was in fact so bad that it became good!  That is, our otherwise difficult trip home became an off-road 4 wheeling adventure that you would probably pay money to do in Colorado.  It was really cool!  I have become quite adept at this kind of driving now and we did some incredible climbing up a muddy slope that looked more like a steep river bed than a road.  Long story short, we got home safely and felt like we had had a real adventure.  (I am also appreciating now just how much muscle that truck has.)

Our truck is in for repairs right now because it has been getting pretty squeaky over the year and we have some funds left over from this fiscal year to fix it.

We continue to enjoy the internet connection in our house that allows us to video skype our families.  My parents had dinner with us several time last week when I set the computer at the end of our dining room table.

Just as a humorous not of closure on our DSL saga.  As you may know we gave up on it and got this other wireless service after waiting 9 months for someone to come and install it.  Well, exactly one week after getting this installed, a man came to our gate to hook up our DSL.  There was some sweet satisfaction in telling him it was too late, even if we do have to pay a bit more.  Hopefully the free-market system will leverage some changes in the labyrinthian phone company that held us in limbo for so long.

Tune in next week to hear about how a root canal goes in Bujumbura.

Bonus photo, this is me with my Burundian 'mutama outfit' complete with old man hat and pipe.  I am missing a straw and bowl of banana beer though.

A Bus Ride from Kigali and Carnaval at the Ecole Belge

 Oren got a hold of the camera again.  Here is one of his better efforts.


Recipe for secret ingredient banana smoothie:

Here is something you can do with old bananas that is great.  Before they get too old, freeze them then try this:
Mix in Blender:
2-3 bananas
3-4 cups of cold milk
1 tbsp sugar
1tsp vanilla
1tsp cinnamon
1/2 tray of icecubes
1 whole avocado (with no skin or seed of course)

Blend it well then enjoy.  We love it here, it is the closest homemade thing we can make to a milkshake.  (We use powdered milk and water though.)

Maybe I am being a bit insensitive, describing a cold tropical drink when many of you are still sitting under deep snow.  For us, we are getting avocados from our trees in the backyard and bananas are always available for vitually nothing.  But hey, there is not much else to brag about here in terms of luxury.  In fact I have no doubt that Rebecca and Oren would trade this all away for a visit to a Coldstone Cremery, or even Baskin Robbins.

We will probably be up late tonight as this is the night reckoning for the MCC program.  That is, all of our final reports from last year, and budgets for this year are due tomorrow.  Finishing is not entirely realistic as we have not even received everything from our partners, but we will do our best to get most of it on the database for our directors in Akron, PA.

Working was a challenge this week because we had to split up again.  I went to Rwanda this Thursday without Rebecca, Oren and David.  This was our second trip  to Rwanda in less than a month and we decided we really wanted Oren to be in school for the end of the week.  Particularly since this coming week is  a school holiday.  We are also aware that he will miss another week of school in a month when our family makes a trip to Nigeria for some regional meetings.

All that to say that it was decided I would go without the family.  I was not alone, however, Zachee, Bridget and Timmy were with me on our trip up there.  It is very convenient to share many of the same partners with Bridget's organization, CAPP.  It means we see each other frequently in meetings, but also carpooling to Rwanda is a possibility from time to time.  We left just before the end of school on Thursday, so Timmy would miss as little as possible,  and so I could get a swim in, then raced up to Kigali to try and make a 5pm meeting that Zachee and I were having at Friends Peace House.

We had no trouble getting there on time as the new route between the cities takes less than 5 hours, and the border can take as little as 10-15 minutes.  By now I am definitely on a first name basis with all of the customs officials and border guards, and several of them asked me where Rebecca, Oren and David were.

We arrived in Kigali about 4 and went directly to our accommodations, Peace Guest House, which is run by the  Friends church. It is not where I stay with the family, but it is run by the Friends church and is fairly near Friends Peace House.  It is not a bad place to stay in many ways, as long as you consider running water a luxury you can do without.  (I bathed in what amounted a glass of water each morning.)

The meeting at 5pm went well, then we had an all day meeting on Friday.  It involved Friends Peace House as well as several donors.  Ruth and Krystan were there as well, as they are seconded to FPH.  All in all it went well.  They are restructuring the organization and letting us know what they were doing.  I was able to offer little more than moral encouragement from MCC as we have been forced to cut many of our grants to our partners due to budget cuts at home.  The meeting began at 9am and ended around 4pm.  (That is typical of meetings in this part of the world.)

I had several errands to do in town after that and ended the evening over dinner (pizza) with Zachee, Bridget and Tim.  Among other things we made plans for the next day, Saturday.  There was a wedding of one of the Peace House staff who had many friends about 3 hours West on Lake Kivu.  I considered going, but Rebecca felt she really needed me back on Saturday as we still had a lot of work to do.  Zachee and Bridget wanted to go to the wedding with some others.

Since they were in the majority, I decided it would be best if they took the car and I returned to Burundi by bus.  So on Saturday morning they dropped me off at the Belvedere Lines bus stop where I caught a bus to Bujumbura.

I am happy to report that the bus was small and quite comfortable.  They even had a television running rap videos for our viewing and listening pleasure.  The border crossing also went quite smoothly.  In fact it would have been a good trip overall if we would not have come to a serious accident on the way into Bujumbura that had stopped all traffic.

Sadly  have seen more accidents here in a year and a half than I have seen in my whole life in the US.  This one involved a large open truck, carrying about 2 dozen policemen standing and riding in the back, and a taxi mini-van loaded with people.  They seem to have glanced off each other.  Both were upside-down completely blocking the road.  The carnage was quite horrific.  I am guessing we arrived about 15 minutes after it happened because when the bus stopped we could see the accident and walk up to it.  What was strange about it was how quiet it all was despite the number of people.  Many were helping to do by hand what the jaws-of-life would do in our country.  There is no urgent care here, no firetrucks or rescue vehicles.  The dead and injured had been taken out of the vehicles and were laying on the ground beside the road.  I saw about nine or ten mortally wounded and dead policemen piled into a pick-up truck to be taken down the mountain to Bujumbura.

As the vehicles were pushed out of the way and our bus was able to get through, we took on two injured people.  They were laid out on the floor in the aisle of the bus.  I was glad we could do something as I had a real feeling of helplessness there.  I was even trained as an EMT many years ago, but there was not even much available to do the most basic first aid. 

The injured did not cry out on the what must have been a very bumpy and painful ride down the mountain.  I gave the policeman my water who was lying in the aisle next to me.  He could really barely drink it. 

When we got to the bottom of the mountain, at the edge of the city, our bus popped a tire.  We stopped and waited for another bus.   I called Rebecca to pick me up as we were quite near the city.  I was going to offer to drive the injured to the hospital as well, but a rudimentary ambulance arrived and took them to a hospital before Rebecca got there. 

I was struck, as I said above, by the 'stoicness' of all involved, the bystanders and the victims, as well as survivors. Perhaps from years of trauma, there is a kind of fatalism, or at least 'realism' about the fragility of life.  In a place like this, if something happens you either die or survive.  There is really no life-saving advanced life support that can bring one back from the point of death.  Maybe I am reading too much into this, but there is something about the way people behaved that seemed, after years of war and other trauma, to reflect a kind of solemn recognition that life is not an entitlement.



I don't want to end on a sad note, and fortunately there is some good news to report.  While I was gone I missed Carnival (Mardi Gras parade) at Oren's school.  I mentioned last week that all of the nursery school classes have been doing an extended units on American Indians.  On Carnaval day this past Friday, parents were invited to come and see the fruition of their labor.  All of the kids had Indian costumes and feather headdresses.  There were teepees as well.  Oren's class wore white pants and the boys were bare chested and looked like young braves, with their teacher as chief.  They had warpaint on their faces and chests and carried spears.  I do not know what tribe they were supposed to be, some kind of plains Indians I suppose, maybe Navaho or Cherokee, but they did look quite cute.  So much for political correctness at the nursery school level.  At least there were no cowboys.

Oren seemed to really enjoy the whole activity and got to keep his Indian costume that he helped make.  He still likes to wear his headress and carry his spear, and even took it to church this past Sunday.

Rebecca also had a parent-teacher conference on Thursday evening while I was gone.  She did get a good report that Oren is very smart in all the crafts and activities they do, but it was confirmed that his French is progressing very slowly.  Nonetheless, I will say that he still loves to go to school and even looks forward to the extra French tutorials on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. 

This week, while he has no school we will be heading upcountry again to visit Jodi and our partners in Gitega.  Please pray that we do not meet any more serious accidents on our way up.  Frankly I am worried that this is another 'peace dividend' as the number of vehicles on the road in the city and coming from upcountry has increased considerably even since we have been here. 

Wired! And the Politics of Preaching:

Oren likes to work on the car whenever I am willing to open the engine for him. At this point he is telling me he wants to be the a train engineer, a conductor, a doctor and a construction worker at the same time when he grows up.



It is hard for me to imagine the amount of snow I have heard has fallen in the Eastern US.  I hear about several feet falling at my parents’ house in Baltimore and it is such a contrast to here where we bask by the side of the pool on hot afternoons at this time. 

Actually we have had a slight shift in seasons again. We have just moved out of the small dry season during the month of January, back into the second rainy season.  It came in with a torrential roar.  We have had two intense downpours in the past two days.  The one that happened today lasted about 45 minutes and timed itself perfectly to be while I was preaching in a small rural church outside Bujumbura under (a very leaky) tin roof.  The noise was deafening and I was hoping that people were getting at least some of it through my Kirundi translator. 

This has definitely been a ‘church filled’ Sunday as both Rebecca and I were asked to share messages at different churches.  The morning service was one in Ruziba, a poor rural commune south of Bujumbura.  The church is co-pastored by Enoch, our cook trainer who still comes by our house to work with Marcelline several times a week.  He invited Rebecca and I to come and share a message.  At first it was not clear who he meant and when Rebecca asked if it should be her (since she has the M. Div.) he explained that it was a conservative church and women were not allowed to preach or teach to men.  So I took that assignment and Rebecca agreed to preach for the English language service in the afternoons at the Rainbow Center. 

Enoch’s church proved to be an interesting challenge, as I felt led to share a message espousing peace theology.  I used the passage in Romans 12 about not being conformed to the patterns of the world, but rather be transformed by the renewal of your mind.   I used it as a takeoff point to talk about 3 ways in which the gospel is a powerful critique of culture.  I focused on three themes: Power, Love, and Death.  I asked for each what the world said about each one compared to what Christ taught.

For power I took the opportunity to talk about servant leadership vs. authoritarian leadership.  I also talked about God’s extraordinary use of weakness rather than force to do his work of reconciling us to him. 

For love, I talked about the challenge of loving one’s enemies, and not just one’s friends.  (from Matthew 6)  I used the illustration of the Amish response to the killing of 5 girls that happened several year ago.  (How they forgave the deceased perpetrator, but then went on to raise money to support his wife and children.)

For death, I talked about Jesus’ warning that he who tries to save his life will lose it and he who loses his life will save it.  I had an illustration from Burundi, of the petit seminaire in Buta where 40 students, tutsi and hutu were being educated together.  The priest had been instilling in them a theology of peace and unity in Christ.  In Oct. 1997 an armed hutu group came to the seminary and asked the students to separate.  (This was normal practice by rebel groups, then all the members of one ethnicity would be killed.)  But the seminarians refused to separate.  The blood of Christ ran deeper in their veins then the blood of their ethnic identity.  Because they would not separate, all 40 of them were massacred.  But in the dying breath of one student, who had a beatific smile on his face: “We won, they told us to separate, but we stayed together.”

“O grave where is thy victory, O death where is thy sting.”
I admit though that I had some concern about sharing this story as the church I was preaching at was comprised of ex-combattants and child soldiers.  I was worried that this might hit a bit close to home.  Perhaps even some of them had been involved in this massacre.  I did pray about sharing it, then trusted God that his was an appropriate illustration.  (The other concern I have is that no one has been brought to justice for this crime and the armed group that was responsible is now the ruling political party in the country.) 

The sermon did go very well despite the aforementioned worries and the rain which made hearing a bit difficult.  David and Oren were also on their best behavior for the service that lasted 4 hours.  It was followed by lunch and we finally got back to our house around 2pm.
(I would also add that while the women may not have been allowed to preach, they were by far the majority and were in no way impeded from dancing up a storm during worship time!) 

That gave us about 2 hours to get ready for the second service and we did have at least 1 visitor drop by.  Fortunately Rebecca was fairly well prepared.  I took childcare duties this time and Rebecca led the service. 

Although I was in the Sunday school with the kids for most of her sermon, I did here some and it sounded very good.  She was talking on a theme of Christian character and this week’s topic was spiritual disciplines and growth.  She used the faith journey of Peter to illustrate the steps and missteps of our own faith walk.  I believe the sermon was very well received.  She was invited back to preach twice more in this series.

So that was Sunday.  We came home about 6 exhausted from all the church we had had, but felt good about the day.  We skpyed my parents before we went to bed to get a look at the 25 inches of snow that had fallen in Baltimore.

Yes, I said skyped.  That is my segue into the next part of this blog.  WE NOW HAVE A REASONABLY GOOD INTERNET CONNECTION.  Yes I gave up on DSL.  I got tired of hoping and decided to go to one of the wireless services that offers a high-speed connection for about $100 per month.  I had to pay in advance on Monday and I was skeptical, but by Wednesday it was fully functional! 

Skype has been the greatest benefit so far.  Although it is also great to be able to download email in less than an hour.  Or open a wesite.  Our current connection is still quite slow by US standards, (about 1 megabyte per minute) but that is good enough for video skyping so we are happy!  If you see us online, give us a call.

Besides that, the week has been pretty normal.  We still do language lessons Monday afternoon, I teach ballet on Tuesday afternoon, the rest of the time is occupied with entering program plans, final reports, and submitting budgets to MCC.  I have mentioned that it is a tight year and we have had to tell our partners that our grants will be considerably smaller this year. 

I am not sure less money is all bad though.  In development work any monetary assistance can so easily lead to dependency and lack of sustainability.  I am hoping that this year might give us a chance to see which programs are stable with regard to their sustainability.

This week has also been plagued, sadly by illness.  Our cook Marcelline has been out all week with something.   Odifax’s wife and daughter have been sick too, so we really had not staff this week at our home.  (Enoch did come in once to make us some lunch and dinner.)

We did take the lack of a cook as an opportunity to go out for Indian Food with Zachee and Bridget Tuesday.  That was a real treat that we have not done at all this year.

We also had several interesting events on Saturday.  Oren went to a carnival at his school in the morning.  There was a sort of costume parade as part of it.  He decided he wanted to be a tree, and he and mommy worked on a costume for it.

Speaking of School.  Oren has been loving his school in the past month and says he wants to go every day of the week.  That is good since he has to go to extra French lessons 3 times per week in the afternoons.  One thing I have found amusing is the current unit his class and in fact all the grades in the maternelle have been doing for the past month.  They have been studying American Indians!  I have to say, to some extent their crafts and activities seem to be based more on a Hollywood idea of Indians than any deep study of culture.  But what can one expect when one is studying American Indians, in a Belgian school, taught by a French teacher, in Burundi?! 

Back to Saturday… After Oren’s carnival, the missionary families we hang with, as well as Zachee, Bridget and Tim’s family made a trip upcountry to Ijenda for a picnic and to escape the heat!  It was a great outing with about 8 kids hiking together and 9 adults.  We had lunch on the hillside, the scenery could have been taken right out of the Sound of Music.   David loved it, especially the many cows, goats and sheep grazing on the hills.

We came down and got back to Bujumbura in time to go to Nathan and Lara’s house where Jal, their son was having his 6th Birthday, after a brief visit there we passed by another friend’s house whose son was having a first communion party, and ended up for dinner at Tim and Jeannette’s house, our South African missionary friends.  We were truly Burundian this week with all of our visits!

Bonus photo:  A cow we saw on the hike.  The horns on these Ankole cattle are enormous, this one looks like an African Buffalo.

Confronting a Culture of False Hopes

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



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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


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

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


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Etiquette of Fasting

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



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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Who Knows... The Kairos Moment

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


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


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

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