Wrestling with Ham on a Saturday Morning

I love Saturday mornings like this. On weeks which are fairly ‘normal’—that is, a routine where we are not out of town (which is 3 weekends a month at best)—we have the day off Saturday. Oren usually gets me up early and we watch a ‘train movie’ together. I downloaded about 6 documentaries from the series Extreme Trains on the History Channel to my iTunes and Oren loves to watch them.

It is community work time on Saturday morning, which means that no one is allowed to go out and drive until after 10:30am. Many Burundians are doing community service work during this time, though truthfully it is not very well coordinated here. When Rebecca and David get up (about 7:30) we have a breakfast together of fresh fruit and cinnamon rolls. I buy the rolls fresh the day before from Nathan, the cook at the Rainbow Center who has a small baking business on the side. His cakes and rolls are fabulous!

Today everyone was in a particularly good mood and it was nice to have a family breakfast together. On school mornings, Oren and I usually have breakfast while Rebecca is feeding David and showering, then we all rush about madly to get ready to go to work and school by 7:30am. So the Saturday morning slow routine is really nice. It is amazing that this kind of morning off was something that our lives in the US never allowed. We always had something scheduled every day of the week and Saturday mornings were often especially full. The pace of life here is (sometimes) more human friendly.

The morning rest is also particularly satisfying for me because I usually go to ‘capoeira’ on Friday evening, so I am often sore on Saturday morning. (capoeira is the Afro-Brazilian martial art I have mentioned in previous blogs.) I have included a couple pictures of the group practicing playing the ‘birimbao’ a single string musical instrument, in a local park, and a picture of me in the living room trying to show Rebecca and Oren an inverted kick. Even at 49 and not dancing regularly for 9 months, I like to think I still have some flexibility left!

Actually it is disappointing how hard it is to have lost the opportunity for regular exercise here. The job is painfully sedentary and worsened by the fact that it includes several very long drives every month. It is not that there is no opportunity to exercise here, there is running, sports, swimming, and even at least one health club, but the problem is sharing a job with my wife and having two very young children. There is just no time to get away.

The past week was mercifully uneventful. We did have an opportunity to go have dinner with Onesphore, one of our partners who founded an organization called Moisson Pour Christ. I have written about him before; he has quite an interesting story (link to past blog). We met his wife Innocente who is an OBGYN and on the faculty at the medical school. They have a modest house as he gave up a career as a lawyer to do Evangelism through his organization Moisson Pour Christ, full time. We appreciated being invited over as we do not often have invitations from Burundians to dine at their homes.

Zachee and Tim had dinner with us on Tuesday and Wednseday night, as Bridget was out of town. Timmy and Oren really like to be together these days and Tuesday day I took care of them together in the afternoon while Zachee and Rebecca worked.

Oren has been back at school this week, and seemed really pleased to be back. He definitely has friends there and talks about them quite a bit. His current favorite is a girl named Fatima who we met recently at an after school event on Thursday. The after school event is a once a week ‘obstacle course’ for all the kids in primary school (about 20 attended). Different pieces of gymnastics equipment and mats are set up for the kids to follow a trail through. Oren’s teacher Madame Cecile runs it and this past week was the first time we have brought Oren to participate. He loved it, especially considering that it was a safe alternative to the kind of stuff he does at our house all the time, to wit, jump off of the furniture onto other pieces of furniture etc. Even with a broken arm he does not seem to be disuaded from continuing to be a daredevil.

Madame Cecile, of course, teaches them some skills, especially discipline, waiting one’s turn, etc. But Oren is very well-behaved with her.

He struggles more with us at home and is in a phase of ‘acting out’ in negative ways. I think he is competing a bit for our attention with his brother David. When we ask him why he is doing bad things he says: “Because I don’t have any friends.” It is true, he is far better when he is with a friend. He talks often about his friends in New York—Asa, Miriam, Gabriel, Alex—and still seems to lament leaving New York and Baltimore behind. But I would not say that he hates it here. He is making new friends and seems to be enjoying the things he can do here.

This coming week we are expecting two new service workers who will be seconded to our partner Friends Peace House in Rwanda. We will pick them up Friday and orient them over the weekend, then I will drive them up to Rwanda next Monday. We will need to make 3 trips to Rwanda in less than a month and I am not looking forward to all the driving and border crossing, but that is part of our job.

I can’t believe we have moved so far from being the newcomers to now orienting new people. (Rebecca and I both spent several hours at work creating an orientation packet with info. about Rwanda, language, culture, history, maps, emergency info. etc.)

Speaking of history and culture, I am reading a fascinating history of the Great Lakes region called When Victims Become Killers by Mahmood Mamdani, about the Rwandan genocide. It is quite shocking to read about the way that colonialism played such a role in reifying ethnic differences and hostility between Tutsi and Hutu. While the Tutsi minority had been an upper social class in pre-colonial times, it was the colonialists who proposed this was due to their ‘Hamitic” origins. (This was a racist doctrine that purported that certain African peoples, who seemed more advanced were descendants of Noah’s son Ham—although Ham was cursed in the Bible, the claim was that his line was ‘genetically superior’ to the native (Bantu) people.) Colonialists allied themselves with the Tutsi ruling class and educated them separately in superior schools as they were perceived as ‘born to be rulers. Incidentally, the word BANTU, which means “people,” does not describe a tribe but was a colonial catch-all term for the inferior, non-Hamitic Africans. If it is part of your lexicon (as it was mine), I suggest you drop it, it is like saying 'Indian' for native Americans but with an even more derisive racist overtone because it is contrasted with ‘Hamites’.

The culminating point in the 1930s was a census done by the Belgian colonists (with the aid of the Catholic church) in which everyone was given a ‘racial’ identity and issued a card. One was either Tutsi, Hutu, or Twa. Classifying these groups as ‘racial’ identities rather than ethnic, meant among other things, that once one was identified as Tutsi or Hutu, one could never change. (It should be noted that before colonialism, Hutus could become Tutsi and vice versa depending on whether one acquired wealth (cows) and status. Tutsis would become Hutu if they lost their wealth and status.) Tutsis were, as I said, schooled separately and thoroughly indoctrinated as well into the theory of their ‘Hamitic’ superiority.

I feel that urge to rend my garments, put ashes on my head and lament the way that the church in colonial times was the originator of this treatise and helped perpetuate the division in Hamitic and Bantu people. (Tutsi and Hutu.)

The book talks about a point after World War II and the defeat of the Nazis, when Christianity as an ideology began to critique the institution of the church. The theories of ‘master races’ fell into disfavor, to be replaced by a new morality of populism and a commitment to build up and support the underclasses (“Blessed are the poor…”). The church and colonial power began to support and empower the suppressed Hutu majority to take power after independence. The Hutu dominant political party that emerged was not interested in sharing power; it had become convinced that the Tutsi were a ‘foreign race’ essentially identical to the colonial rulers. The dominant Tutsi party, by contrast, held onto its claim that they were a master race. As rulers of the land, they were entitled to the power that was their genetic/historic destiny.

The hostility between these groups, which lived in tension but not open conflict for several centuries prior to colonization, grew increasingly radicalized and hostile. The radical Tutsi elements fled the country and launched regular guerilla raids into the country from Uganda to kill local Hutu officials who had won elections, and in response Hutus would kill any Tutsis in the villages that were around in revenge.

This cycle continued up to the genocide of 1994, to a great extent because of the toxic ideological legacy imposed on the ‘Bantu’ and ‘Hamitic’ people by the church.

What I find instructive about reading history, especially the history of church culpability in supporting ideologies that seem clearly, in retrospect, to be counter to the TRUTH of the Gospel, is to see the ways we might be doing this in other contexts today. I have no doubt that our grandchildren will click their tongues at our own hypocrisy.

Sunday Morning:

That last bit of blogging was written after 1 am. But we did get up this morning to get ready for church and found that mysteriously our car wwould not start and we are stranded at home. We sat on the porch as a family, sang songs--Rebecca accompanied on guitar, prayed, then drew Oren a picture to color while we read from Mark 7. The passage finds Jesus rebuking the Pharisees for using God’s word and the “Law of Moses” to do exactly what contradicts God’s intentions for his people:

He quotes Isaiah 29:13 saying:

“The people honor me with their lips,
but their hearts are far from me.
Their worship is a farce,
for they teach manmade ideas as commands from God.”

It seems that the legacy of using a Biblical truth to support a convenient manmade lie is nothing new in the history of our planet. My advice is for us to examine our hearts. Are we using God’s word to support any belief that some people are more important than others, or some are less deserving of rights than others? Be warned, this belief may not stand up to the light of God’s truth, in his time.

Tune in next week to find out if we ever get the car working again. I do know that I have never seen a tow truck in Burundi!

Here is a final image to enjoy. Oren is getting good at drawing! This is a self portrait, not bad for a three-year-old in

A Closed Reduction and Renewed Mind in Kigali

A wide load on the road to Kigali. These can be quite hazardous to pass.


As I begin this blog entry, Sunday evening, I am seated beside David who is watching a Baby Einstein video (Baby Mozart) on half the screen so that he won’t scream while I try to get down all that happened this week on this blog. I have put it off to the last possible minute, not because I have little to say, but because I simply have too much!

For those who hold by superstition, Tuesday did prove once again to be a day of trial for us, but it did include a true blessing as well… but let me not get ahead of myself here.

We had been looking forward to this week. After several busy and difficult weeks, we felt we had earned a 3 day vacation and had planned to go to one of the forests in Rwanda to hike around and see some wildlife. Oren was on his second week of spring break, making it difficult to do much office work anyway. We planned to combine this diversion with a necessary visit to partners in Rwanda: driving up on Monday, business on Tuesday, vacation Wednesday through Saturday.

First thing on Tuesday, we met with partners at Friends Peace House. African-style meetings involve starting with relational conversation before getting down to business. April is a month of mourning in Rwanda, as people remember the 1994 genocide. We had a very meaningful conversation with them about changes they see in this 15th year of commemorating the genocide. They felt that at this point, there was a real opportunity for survivors to extend forgiveness, and offer offenders a key to unlock the prison of shame and guilt they still are trapped within. It was wonderful to hear their reflections on actions they themselves have taken as survivors. An hour later we got down to signing checks ;-). I’m glad our job involves both the personal and the practical.

After that, we squeezed in a trip to the bank, priced appliances for our incoming workers, and shopped for personal items not available in Burundi. At 5pm we had accomplished just about everything and realized we had time to run over to the hospital to have Oren’s cast removed. The doctor who set the bone in Kigali had told us a fracture in a 3 year old would heal in 3 weeks and we could come in and get it removed. Tuesday was exactly 3 weeks to the day from when he had the injury. We went to the hospital and after some confusion, did find a pediatrician who could remove the cast. Before doing so, he sent us down to X-Ray to make sure the bone had healed.

I took Oren in to get X-rayed and at that point had an ominous feeling about what we might find. I had seen the original break and the unseemly angle of the bone in the arm angling upward. When he was being cast I had even asked the orthopedist if it would be straight when the cast was off. He assured me that the gentle traction he had applied as well as the cast would straighten the bone.

The X-ray went quickly and the technician came out with the X-ray in hand. He gave it to me to take the doctor. My curiosity was piqued and I took it and immediately held it up to the light. I am no orthopedic surgeon but it took me about two seconds to see that there was a real problem hidden under that cast. The radius and ulna were still both broken and the radius was badly out of line.

The pediatrician, on seeing the X-ray immediately called the orthopedic surgeon and they all agreed that Oren needed to have a ‘closed reduction’ of the fracture. That is to say, he would need a procedure that involved putting him to sleep so that the surgeon could reset the bones without making any incision.

They told us to come back first thing Wednesday morning and the doctor would meet us at 7am to do the operation mid-morning. Rebecca and I really had no choice. We were grateful to get this attended to immediately, and were feeling like we would need to trust God about having this done in Kigali, as opposed to flying somewhere else. But we also understood that our plan to drive 3 hours to Volcanos National Park and spend three days there was not going to happen.

That evening we had made arrangements to meet the Thomas’s, a missionary family (Dave and Debbie are the parents of four kids between 5 and 14) who work with the Evangelical Friends church. We have wanted to make a connection with them for a while. We got there late for dinner because of our hospital saga, but they were very hospitable and sympathetic when we arrived.

I was not really in a mood to be visiting others at that moment, but I am very grateful that we did. Hearing Dave and Debbie’s story, especially the early years of work, was definitely a message to us from God. They described their first two years as being very difficult and they often felt demoralized and defeated. I can identify now with that feeling of despair about what we are doing. There is a kind of ‘stripping away’ that is necessary for this kind of work, because I think we often come bristling with a sort of short-term burst of adrenalin—ready to do everything in our own strength. But we lose that initial thrust very quickly. That initial momentum is sapped even more quickly in the face of the stubborn obstinacy of violence, suffering, poverty, and need. These problems do not go away, and you come to the realization that there is nothing you can accomplish in your own power to ‘help’ anyone.

In the past several years Dave and Debbie have begun a new approach to working with communities. It begins by committing to work regularly with a community for five years. Absolutely NO financial assistance is offered. They take a Biblical approach to community development beginning with the premise that development is not something that is done to a person or community, and it cannot be done from the outside at all. “Development is first and foremost a transformation of the thinking of the individuals in a community.” It begins with recognizing the (human and material) assets that a community has, what they want the community to be (vision), what is lacking (needs), and how the community might ITSELF address those needs. If they need to seek government assistance for training, etc. so be it, but THEY need to develop the capacity to address their needs, not an NGO, or outsider.

It apparently takes years to help a community develop to a point where they really see themselves as having agency to change their circumstances. But this approach has had some really good results in several communities in Uganda. I was intrigued by it personally because of the problem of the Aid Trap I see. It seems like it is hard not to have communities develop dependency rather than self-sufficiency as they approach us and other NGOs to ‘help’ them. I am very interested in a development plan that does not start with money, or doing, but by changing the minds of individuals. (For more info, there is a link here: moving mountains)

“..No longer be conformed to the pattern of this world but be transformed by the renewal of your minds…,” Romans 12: 2

What I came away with from the evening was a real sense that God was with us, but that, as I said, there is much that must be stripped away. I do feel like I am being broken down by Him. I am finding my own enthusiasm, will, and spiritual strength withering away over time, the challenges seem daunting, my incompetence becoming more obvious, and the work, especially travel, unappealing. Added to that is the difficult adjustments that the rest of my family is making to all the changes and my own shortcomings as a husband and father. And yet, I think the day is young. I believe that patient endurance is what is being required here. Seeing the Thomas’s walk of obedience in the past 12 years (with no plan to return home soon), I am inspired. They are now at a point where they can see the way that God is using them to do his work in this place. I pray I can reach that point as well in time.

After dinner we went back to the guest house we were staying that night and got ready to take Oren back to the hospital the next morning. I was skeptical about arriving there and having everything go according to plan, and sure enough, when we got there the next morning we were lacking an ‘admission form’ that delayed us about 2 hours in the waiting room while they looked for it. When the doctor arrived he apparently wrote another one, and by 10 am Oren was admitted to the hospital.

I will let Rebecca pick up the story from here:

The pediatric private and semi-private rooms were all full, so we ended up on the general pediatric ward. I was quite an experience to bet here. Fortunately, Oren had read “Curious George goes to the hospital” over the past few weeks, and the ward looked a lot like what is described in that book. By 10 am, they were finally ready to do the blood work and they put in an IV line. Oren screamed bloody murder, but then was able to function. He enjoyed having Paul read the new Tintin book we picked up yesterday for our "Vacation" (Red Rackham's treasure). Around noon, we still hadn't talked with the anesthesiologist, and received word that he was in another surgery, probably wouldn't be free until 2 pm. Then five minutes later they said, quick, let's take him down. Apparently an operating theater had become available. So he was in surgery around 12:30 pm. The anesthesiologist told Paul that he would try sedation only, but doubted that it would be enough to keep him out for the procedure without general anesthesia and intubation. We don't actually know what ended up happening (but Oren wasn't complaining about his throat in recovery). And they did perform a closed reduction, no incisions, and they put on a much firmer-looking cast. They wouldn't let us into the recovery area -- probably it's a good policy, for cutting down infections. But we started to hear him sobbing from the waiting room and in a few minutes, a nurse carried him out to us in her arms. It was so, so heart-rending to see him in so much pain, and just so disoriented and feeling awful. He cried for about an hour on and off, shivering from the anesthesia., while the suppository paracetemol took effect and the IV fluids started dripping in. He hadn't had anything to eat or drink since 9 pm the night before. We tried to distract him by telling him all the fairy tales we could think of. For the final two hours in the hospital, he seemed a little better, but he just refused to get out of the bed into a wheelchair to go downstairs. We eventually carried him out and were able to check out at 7:00pm—12 hours after we arrived. It was good to get back to the guest house again for dinner.

The X-ray pictures I posted are the same view of the arm before and after surgery. It definitely looks better now, although he needs to have the cast on for 3 more weeks.

Because we did not feel we had enough time left to head to the forest, and were not sure how Oren would feel, we decided to spend two days of vacation in Kigali. We got a mid-priced hotel and did some touristy things. We got back to Bujumbura on Saturday, in time for another Saturday evening Scottish Country dance at the Carr’s. It was a lot of fun, and Jodi was down for the weekend as well for supplies. (She left Sunday morning.)

I will say that going on vacation with two children under 4 is not exactly restful, and I think we are really looking forward to the relaxing pace of our daily routine in Bujumbura with Oren back in school.

Bonus photo: I am sending this full size, it makes a nice desktop photo for a laptop. It is a picture of Bujumbura with mountains in the background next to the shore of Lake Tanganyika. I took it a couple weeks ago on a clear day.

Holy Week and Transitional Justice

Oren shows David how to use his new toy.



I am actually very happy to report that this has been a relatively uneventful week! We even got through a Tuesday without a major crisis, AND we have no visits to the doctor for antibiotics or any emergency for at least 10 days!

So what is there to write about? We have been fairly busy at work this week, signing MOUs (memorandums of understanding) with all of our partners. Our fiscal year began in March and with our newly approved budget we have been making final agreements with our partners on their grant proposals for the year. Because of the economic downturn we have had to cut back on some of their proposals, but by and large we have been able to maintain the essential programming we have supported in past years.

Oren has been off school since Monday for a two week spring break. This has made going to the office a bit complicated since we have typically been using the hours of 8am to noon on weekdays to go to the office together while Oren is at school. We did get someone to come in (Charlie—she is a new arrival on mission here for 6 months) and babysit for two mornings of the week.

We were also due for a visit to our partners upcountry in Gitega and also Burasira (where Jodi lives). We have not checked in on Jodi for at least a month and she was beginning to run short on some supplies (like spaghetti and toilet paper). We drove as a family up to Gitega on Wednesday, met with partners on Wednesday afternoon, then headed on down the two hour dirt road to Burasira. Jodi welcomed us warmly, despite being involved in a very busy week of teacher capacity-building and curricular development. (They were running a week of workshops at the school.) We stayed at the seminary next to her house. We have been staying at her house but this week, Zachee, Bridget and Timmy came up as well because Zachee was going to be giving a lecture to the teachers about water management. They arrived later on Wednesday evening and Oren was thrilled to see Timmy. They ran around Jodi’s house all evening before we retired to the seminary. The next day we left Oren with Timmy and Bridget and went up to visit the school and meet with the directors: Innocent and Beatrice. We also had a chance to see Zachee in action doing some of his water lecture. He is a very good teacher, a gift I had not had a chance to see him use in his capacity as our program officer. Here are some pictures of him lecturing and the teachers listening. (You can see Jodi in the back corner.)

Jodi always has interesting cultural stories from her experience of working at the school. She has been courageous in advocating for the Batwa children, trying to keep girls in school, trying to identify the causes of absenteeism and provide a way for kids to get healthcare when they need it, and even intervening in some community conflicts involving students or their parents.

When we had to leave Thursday morning, Oren was very resistant to going as he was having such a good time with Tim. He insisted that he wanted ‘to live at Miss Jodi’s house.’

On the way back we stopped and visited one more partner in Gitega, Levy Ndikumana at MiPAREC before heading home. He is always very gracious and offered to send a couple live chickens home with us in the car that we could slaughter and eat. We opted instead for a few dozen eggs, which we thought Oren would probably enjoy boiling and coloring for Easter.

Egg coloring happened on Friday and here is Rebecca’s report:

“Last weekend we were thrilled to get a letter from Gramma Jean, with coloring pages for Easter. Oren has meticulously been coloring in all the pictures of Easter eggs in a variety of colors of his choosing (pink hay, fluffy black bow on the basket). He was adamant that he wanted to color real eggs together, but this has been difficult to pull off. Over the past week, I have scoured every well-stocked “alimentation” (small grocery store) for food coloring with no success. Finally I decided to use the water colors sent by our small group friends for Oren’s Sunday school materials. But we almost had another mishap: I asked our cook Marcelline to make 6 hard cooked eggs for me yesterday. I came back into the kitchen a minute later and she had the frying pan out! Coloring boiled eggs is distinctly not a Burundian tradition. Today, Daddy hid the eggs around our living room for Oren to find. The best hiding place turned out to be under David’s t-shirt – Oren burst into hysterical laughter when he finally found it.”

Holy week here has definitely felt different to us than what we are accustomed to. This is probably most significantly due to the fact that in the past, Rebecca was a youth pastor and I sung in a choir of a very liturgical church. We are used to attending at least 5 church services between Palm Sunday and Easter Sunday, and being integrally involved in the worship. That is not the case here. Oren was sick on Palm Sunday morning so I went to church without Rebecca and the kids. (When Oren woke up and felt better, he and Rebecca practiced marching around the house, waving palm branches cut from our garden, shouting “Hosanna!”). We did go to a Good Friday service last night, and will be in church tomorrow for Easter of course. Still, our church here does not practice the traditions we are used to; celebrating communion on Easter Sunday is not part of the tradition at our church here, for instance.

We are fortunate to be living directly behind a large Catholic church from which beautiful Kirundi hymns have been emanating almost constantly the entire week. (I have been feeling a bit jealous of all the ceremony around Lent and Holy week the Catholics enjoy here.) Fasting, as I mentioned in an earlier blog, is a particularly important spiritual discipline in this season.

Speaking of where we are living, we can now officially announce that we will be moving in the near future. Not far, a few blocks from where we are now, but to a very nice house, which does not have a septic tank that overflows regularly into the driveway. It is also surrounded by many productive fruit trees (mango, orange, lemon, avocado, papaya, and guava) which will be nice to have access to. The house is currently occupied by our friends the Carrs, who are sadly leaving Burundi in mid-May. We are delighted to be able to take over their lease, however, as the house is really great. We are hoping we might inspire some of the readers of this blog to come out and visit us sometime in the next 4 years.

We continually feel very blessed in our work here, and have been working to build a community here. We are challenged by the non-permanence of the expatriate community and are still working to make closer connections to our Burundian friends. One thing we are thinking of trying to do in our new house is host a contradance evening once a month. (The living room is big enough!) We will see how that comes together.

Next week we will go back to Rwanda for two days of meetings and three days of vacation, and hopefully visit a national forest as part of that.

I will close by sharing with you a discussion that came up in a meeting last Friday. I was invited to represent MCC at a meeting of Peace Church organizations working in Burundi. Representatives from The American Friends Service Committee, Quaker Peace Network, as well as others were in attendance. When asked what the AFSC saw as ‘flashpoints’ of conflict—anticipating and trying to prevent potential conflict flashpoints is an important part of peace work— they identified several problems. First, there is the continued problem of repatriated refugees coming back to land they had abandoned that is now occupied. There have been many ongoing land disputes that have often turned violent and even murderous. Secondly, there are the upcoming 2010 elections. There will be many political parties, including some fairly radical ones formed by recently demobilized rebel groups. Peaceful transfer of power is historically almost non-existent in sub-Saharan African nations and there is considerable anxiety about what will happen in the next 12 months. However, the biggest concern identified by AFSC was ‘transitional justice’. This is really a serious problem here and speaks to the greater problem of trying to bring to ‘justice’ those who have been guilty of past war crimes.

Here’s the problem: how do you persuade a government to pursue justice for those who are guilty of committing crimes in the past 14 years of civil war, when many perpetrators are now occupying seats of power in the government itself? Also, there is the ongoing undercurrent of ethnic conflict. Any attempt by one ethnic group to pursue ‘justice’ against another looks like retribution and not impartial arbitration. Add the complication of a highly politicized election, and this becomes a real conflict tinderbox. Doing nothing (letting sleeping dogs lie), however, is not an option as it fuels growing resentment in the population, as they see many known war criminals ‘getting away with murder.’

At the local level, MCC partners—particularly MiPAREC—have set up ‘peace committees’ in communities all over the country to try to introduce concepts of ‘restorative justice’ to resolve conflicts. This involves providing a forum for grievances to be aired, victims’ stories to be heard, and an opportunity for perpetrators to ask for forgiveness and make amends. They have had a great deal of success at the local level, but whether this type of reconciliation can be accomplished at the national level is an open question.

As I said, the problem is that there is no impartial arbitrator. Everyone is on some side, and many who would need to implement justice have blood on their own hands.

I am learning that justice is not a simple matter of getting the facts and making a ruling. Those in power can decide which facts are relevant and can largely determine who is tried and the outcome of any legal process.

What human beings are capable of—even at their best—is only a shadow of what I believe divine justice will look like. I am considering in a new way that passage in 2 Corinthians (5:17-21) that says we have been given “the ministry of reconciliation.” – which is the gospel! We may never be divine judges, but we have, in Jesus, the capacity for divine forgiveness. I pray this capacity will be shared in Burundi by those who follow him.

The Flood

Zachee's backyard and porch. That little line of bricks under the columns is a 4 foot high wall.


I am beginning to harbor a deep anxiety about Tuesdays. For some strange reason, it seems like the tribulations that we face on a nearly weekly basis here are visited upon us on Tuesdays. In the last 4 weeks we have consecutively seen Tuesdays where a close colleague’s young wife died, a longtime local partner died, Oren broke his arm; and this Tuesday, a flood seemed like a test of Biblical proportions.

I want to begin the story a bit earlier though. As you may remember from last week, we had just returned from Rwanda last Saturday after a hard work week of meetings. My Dad arrived Saturday as well and spent the week with us. By Sunday, I was not too surprised that I was coming down with a fever and it was actually quite high by Sunday night. I was relieved to be back in Bujumbura and we had planned to take a day off Monday to relax.

The only event we had planned was to take my Dad to Lumiere University to do a guest lecture on Strategic Leadership. Despite feeling lousy, I was happy to take him and help him set up. We were disappointed to find that the power was out – he had prepared a PowerPoint presentation as part of the lecture. However, the moment he began, the power came on, an answer to a prayer I was repeating right up to that point. The lecture went very well and was even attended by the President of the University. Sadly, we had to decline a dinner invitation with the President because I was feeling so sick afterwards. (A bit of a cultural faux-pas, but I think we will be forgiven.)

On Tuesday morning we prepared for a normal workday, and it was nice to be in our daily routine. I woke up, made breakfast for Oren and got him ready for school while Rebecca fed David and showered. We dropped Oren at school but were surprised that we did not see Zachee and Timmy there. (We usually see each other at school) We headed to the office and as soon as I got there Zachee called my cell phone. I asked how he was and he said. “Things are bad.”

Zachee can be a master of understatement, and I was not sure whether it was something terrible, or if perhaps his car battery was dead. He then went on to say that the heavy rains overnight had flooded his house. But what he described on the phone sounded more like a tidal wave. He said everything on the first floor of his house had been destroyed and a worker, who slept downstairs, almost drowned. He said if Timmy had been downstairs he certainly would have drowned. (Fortunately his bedroom was upstairs.) He described it all as happening suddenly, at 5 am, and I was having trouble visualizing how this steady rain could have such a spontaneous effect. I told him we would come right over.

When we got there, it became quite clear what had happened. The next door neighbor’s house which sits higher than Zachee had very poor drainage. Water coming downhill (draining out of the most populous slums in Bujumbura) had actually found a channel into their yard and had filled up the entire brick enclosed yard with about 6 feet of water. (It is important to remember that every house in Bujumbura is surrounded by a brick wall.) The wall adjoining Zachee’s house suddenly gave way and crashed down at 5 am (photo of wall that broken down). Water and bricks poured into Zachee’s yard, slammed through his first floor in a six foot wall of water, smashed down doors, pulverized the furniture and everything in the lower level, and continued through to his other outer wall on the other side of the yard, knocking that down as well. Because Zachee’s house sits a bit lower than his 2 neighbors, about 4 feet of water remained in his yard and first floor, and did not have any way to leave. All the drains were blocked by fallen masonry.

When we got there, it was an appalling sight. It was especially strange because neither neighbor had had any water enter their own houses. We could not even drive our landcruiser into the gate. In his lower level, his kitchen, dining room, guest room, library, tool room, porch, and servant quarters were deep in muddy water. Nothing was standing up, doors were smashed to pieces, the fridge was floating around in the kitchen (photo), the dining room hutch, tables, and chairs were in pieces, the guest bed mattress was floating as well, everything else was submerged in water and mud. The bedrooms upstairs were fortunately out of the tidal wave’s range. Zachee described being wakened by what sounded like a clap of thunder.

Illness for me always seems relative. Despite continuing to nurse a high fever, I felt like his situation was far worse than mine, and I offered to help in any way I could. We started by wading through the water to try to find some of his books, DVDs, important folders, power tools, etc. with our feet. We waded around for several hours fishing through the opaque water. Virtually nothing was salvageable, certainly no books or papers.

At noon we went and picked up Oren and Tim, and all went to my house for lunch. That afternoon Rebecca and I (and Dad) took care of Oren, David and Tim while Zachee worked on getting a pump truck to get the water out of his house and yard. (It is worth mentioning that Bridget, Zachee’s wife, was in Congo doing some work with the Norwegian government and was not to be back until Thursday evening.)

Tuesday evening we had our Bible study, but I told Zachee to pack bags for himself and Tim that evening and move into our house with us until he was able to clean up and at least get his kitchen functional again. That night they stayed at our house, in our last remaining bedroom. (Actually we moved David into our bedroom to make 2 guest rooms available).Tuesday night, needless to say, my fever was considerably higher, and I was feeling very bad.

Wednesday morning we took both boys to school, Zachee went to work at the house, Rebecca went to work, and despite feeling terrible, I took Dad to his second and final lecture on strategic planning at the University. It all went well and we picked up Rebecca, then Oren and Timmy for lunch after it was over.

The afternoon was unavailable for work once again as babysitting 3 children is a lot of work, but we wanted Zachee to be able to continue work on clean up. Oren and Timmy are particularly wild together and need a lot of supervision (see last week’s blog!). I was really missing our worker Denise who had left us several weeks ago. Wednesday evening Zachee and Tim stayed again. We needed many things for the house since we had been gone the week before. I was too sick to really run around, so Rebecca had to do errands while I stayed at the house with all the children. (Marcelline and Dad were there as well to help.) Poor Rebecca really had so much on her plate with 3 extra guests, AND a sick husband to care for as well.

As if that was all not enough, while she was driving from one errand to another, some bandits jumped onto the back bumper of her car in a downtown traffic jam, and tried to jimmy off the spare tire. She honked furiously, which didn’t discourage the thieves. However, the cars in front of her cleared away and she was able to make the turn and go fast enough that they had to jump off before they could complete the task.

Wednesday night my fever was unbelievably high and I was feeling a bit delirious. I should say something about how I feel about fevers. Strangely, I do not dislike the feeling of being incapacitated by the chills and misery associated with fever. Fever is the cure not the illness. I feel like it’s the way the body forces the rest on me that I am refusing to take, in order to heal. I often feel that fever has a physical and spiritual component as well. On Wednesday night, I was particularly aware that this illness seemed to be a divine corrective, not a spiritual attack. I realized that in the past 2 weeks I had been doing everything in my own power, even helping Zachee, and not seeking God. I was now at the breaking point. So shaking with chills at 2 am, I asked Rebecca (who had gotten up) to pray with me and for me. We prayed for over an hour. When we were done the fever broke, and the bed was drenched in sweat. I was weak Thursday, but have not been sick since that night.

Thursday, Rebecca and I went to the office after we dropped the kids at school, Zachee stopped by as well and we took some time to pray with him at that time. (We had not done that with him yet!) It was good, and at that point, in God’s strength I knew that we would be able to face the tribulations that the week had visited upon us. It was the first day back to the office in 2 weeks and it felt good to begin to catch up. The hardest job was to complete our monthly financial report and account for all the money we spent in the past 2 weeks. We did get our statement to balance though.

Zachee took Timmy after lunch to pick up Bridget, and Rebecca and I were relieved to have her back to help Zachee. They joined us all once more for dinner that night. They had their house to a place where they could cook on the porch on charcoal, and decided to go back home that night.

On Friday, the day seemed almost normal, we dropped Oren off at school and went to work, only we brought dad with us. While Rebecca worked, Dad and I ran around doing some overdue errands. It was good to show him around a bit more of the town, including the central market area. We succeeded in finding an electric iron as ours had burned out recently.

After lunch that same day, I drove him back to the airport and he got on a plane back to Addis to connect to a flight to Rome and then Baltimore. I imagine he is home by this writing. It was such a pleasure to have him visit. That marks the visit of a second grandparent (Rebecca’s Mom was first.) We hear there are plans for all four to visit sometime this summer. We are blessed to have such adventurers for parents. Of course they are the reason we have wanted to come back overseas in the first place.

I would be remiss in failing to mention some of the good points of the week. One thing was the opportunity to extend our home and time to Zachee in a time of need. It was a real opportunity for Christian witness for us to invite him and his family to stay with us. Zachee said that it was really an example to many when a ‘boss’ extends such lavish hospitality on an ‘employee.’ Especially if he is a mzungu. Zachee is, of course, a friend more than anything else to us, but I think it appeared remarkable to many who watched from a distance.

The other amazing thing has been Marcelline’s cooking. While we were in Rwanda, we sent Marcelline to work with Enoch, the cook of one of our neighbors—he is really quite a master chef. Enoch taught her a ton of new gourmet recipes, as well as places to find things in the market like fresh lettuce, spinach, broccoli, etc. She has made some exquisite dishes. Enoch even came over to our house this week to make sure she did them right. On the menu this week we had:

Monday—spinach quiche
Tuesday—fish and mango coconut curry
Wednesday—fish stew with French bread
Thursday—sausage and vegetable goulash
Friday—stuffed cabbage rolls
Every meal has been accompanied by amazing salads with lettuce, peppers, and mangoes in them. She has also made a fine selection of homemade salad dressings from ranch, to peanut, to an assortment of vinaigrettes.

We of course allay our guilt about eating so well by insisting that what we are really doing is ‘building her capacity’ so she can find work when we leave, or perhaps even open her own restaurant someday. In the meantime, we are eating a lot less rice and beans, and a lot more salads.

And finally, Slumdog Millionaire is playing in Bujumbura tonight, and the Carr’s said they would baby-sit the kids for us!

It’s important to take the bad with the good!

Final Image: Oren and Timmy have are becoming better friends all the time. Especially after living together in Kigali and then Bujumbura the last 2 weeks.