A Village Live-In and Prison Visit to Round Off the Year

David and Oren sharing some hot water in a tub on a chilly morning during our village live-in.




One thing that we have always regretted missing during our first weeks of orientation to Burundi was a ‘village live-in”. This is an experience of rural life in the country where one is working, usually done at the beginning of an assignment, to give the MCC service worker a sense of what life for the local population is really like.

When we arrived, the turn-over time was so short that we did not really get to experience this ourselves. I had talked to Cassien (director of Help Channel) several weeks ago, and he proposed that we come to his village over the Christmas break, and stay at his family home. We decided to take him up on the offer. (As an aside, Cassien had made a trip to the US in October and had actually stayed briefly with Rebecca’s parents.) I think he was pleased to be able to return the favor.

On Monday morning we all piled into Cassien’ Landcruiser—with his wife Beatrice and 3 nieces, the 4 of us, and a huge pile of luggage and food—and headed up the mountains by the southern route. Cassien’s village is located just past the province of Bururi sort of near a town called Makamba. (It is also very close to the Burundi Source du Nil—a small spring, claimed to be the southern-most source of the Nile river.)

The village was not unlike others in Burundi, although being in the less populated south meant that it did not seem nearly as crowded with people. Cassien’s house, though, was a bit of a surprise. Somehow I was expecting a mud hut or grass hut with a dirt floor, filled with relatives of his extended family. What I found was a well-staffed uninhabited modern house, complete with solar power, a lawn, and an enclosed cloture with plenty of parking. It was a bit of an anomaly in the village in that it was the only modern house I saw there.

The house was attached to a stable where Cassien had cows, sheep, goats, and chickens. He also had a fairly large staff of workers who care for the farm and livestock while he is away. Cassien showed us around the area, pointing out a stand of tall old trees which his father had planted many years ago as an agricultural investment. Just down the road, Cassien had personally bought property and planted trees himself; he was eager to see how they were doing. We began to understand how Cassien came up with the concept of a food-for-work reforestation project, which MCC supports.

-- Paul just fell asleep, so I’m taking over at this point… (Rebecca)
Our children were entranced by the livestock. David learned how to moo like a cow as a signal that he wanted another visit to the barn. Oren was fascinated to see a cow being milked for the first time in his life – by hand! I was pretty impressed myself.by the high pressure of the extracted milk. And Oren just loved drinking the fresh, recently boiled cow’s milk (very different from powdered milk or long-life that we usually drink). That was about all he ate while we were there. Oren really wanted to talk to the cows and tell them thank you, but Cassien advised him that “If you want to talk with a cow, you should bring a stick.” (This is actually a kirundi proverb that I think is meant to refer to dealing with stubborn people.

In the evening, it got quite chilly, so we enjoyed sitting in Cassien’s living room around the fireplace, drinking huge cups of tea and having a typical Burundian supper of rice, green peas, and potatoes. Beatrice and Cassien love to sing and it was lovely to sing old favorite hymns like “My Jesus I love thee” and “Angels we have heard on high.” with the Kirundi words.

On Tuesday morning it stopped raining so we investigated Cassien’s vegetable farm, teaming with eggplants, pumpkins, tomatoes, cabbages, beans, sweet potatoes and a few things I couldn’t identify. Oren love climbing up the mountain and looking around at the incredible view. We could see all the way over to a large rocky mountain that stretched southward, and we found out that a group of 200 chimpanzees lived in the valleys on the top of that government land. (We were shocked to hear that Burundi has any wildlife left at all.) Apparently, these chimps have been raiding people’s farms and destroying crops. The farmers know it’s illegal to kill a chimpanzee, but they don’t know what to do. A community-based wildlife conservation or tourism plan is desperately needed here to resolve this human-chimpanzee land conflict, protect the monkeys, and give some benefit to the local people. (If anyone reading this has connections to organizations who do this, we would be interested in hearing about it.)

Later in the morning, we drove about 90 minutes to a more and more remote section of central Burundi to see the Karera Waterfalls. They were truly spectacular and worth the drive. We were able to hike down alongside all three sets of waterfalls, in the company of several armed soldiers and a park guide of sorts. There is actually a protected forest surrounding the falls; the lush vegetation and variety of trees and shrubs was in stark contrast to the eucalyptus forests we usually see. I was fascinated to imagine what much of Burundi would have looked like, 100 years ago. The rainy day subsided to a drizzle for the whole of our walking visit to the falls, and then it started pouring again. On the way back to Cassien’s home, we stopped for lunch at a local hotel. What succulent, tender beef and mutton they have up-country. It was the most touristic day we had in Burundi, not so much of a village live-in, but Cassien and Beatrice confessed that they hardly ever just take the time to rest and enjoy their country and forget about their responsibilities. It was good to imagine that we gave them an excuse for a little break.

On Wednesday, before we hit the road for home, we stopped at a natural hot springs 10 minutes from Cassien’s village. We were just going to peek at it, but before we could stop him, Oren had stripped down completely and was ready to get in the pool. Fortunately, it wasn’t very deep, so we let him swim around for a few minutes. We pray the temperatures killed off any bilharzias (That is a disease for those of you who don't know about parasitic snails in African lakes). It was much harder to get him out.of the pool; one of young Burundians bathing there had to help us out and carry him to shore.

We returned home on a different road, taking us down through the most impressively steep pass I have seen in Burundi. People there truly live a vertical life. It was dizzying just to imagine how women farm some of the steep plots we drove past. We ended up back along the coast of Lac Tanganyika and stopped for lunch at a beach restaurant that will soon open as a resort to rival the hotels in Mombasa, Kenya. It was a truly wonderful trip, spent with wonderful generous friends, and a great way to see rural southern Burundi. Oren also told me that it was his favorite part of the whole Christmas vacation. (Vacation in Burundi anyone? We would love to be your tour guides!)

Paul continuing again…
We returned on Wednesday evening Jan 30th. On Thursday morning I got a call from Zenon, the pastor I have done some prison ministry with. He told me that several of them had obtained permission to go into the prison and asked if I wanted to go and give a message that afternoon. I said I would.

Because of my past experience in prison ministry in New York, this is something I have wanted to continue here. I have had one previous opportunity to go in several months ago. Since then, we have tried several times and been turned away because of problems in the prison. (We have received regular reports in the newspaper about riots in this prison that have had to be put down by the army.) Recently, the rioting got so bad, that some prisoners actually set fire to the main entrance and burned the director’s office as well as the offices that housed all of the prison records on the prisoners themselves regarding their sentences. This is really quite terrible in a place that is completely non-computerized. The hard copies in that place to some extent may be the only record of the sentences and amount of time served in that place.

Sadly, our house is close enough to the prison that I have been able to hear the volleys of gunshots from the army at the gates of the prison many times in the last month. Having been in there before, I cannot imagine the hell of that place getting worse. There are about 6000 men, women and children crammed into a place that is really only big enough for about 2000. It is truly an appalling place. (I should add also that unlike prisons in the US, there is little or no food service provided. Prisoners depend on families and friends to supply them with rice, or maniac and beans AND even charcoal so they can cook on it.—many inside are starving.)

I met the team around lunch that day that we were going in with. I had taken a sermon from Phillipians I had offered at Coxsackie prison in the past, since I had not had time to prepare something new. Our team prayed together for an hour before entering--for permission to enter to not be remanded, among other things. While we prayed I talked to Zenon about the many children and young people I had seen in there before. He told me that some boys have been in there for 8 to 9 years for stealing a cell phone when they were as young as 8. The problem, he said, is that many do not understand the system, so have not presented themselves before the prison magistrate to be considered for release. They have served well beyond their sentence, but do not know the process to get out. (Apparently once you are in, you are forgotten by the bureaucracy, no one is looking out for your well being if you are not.)

We did get in after a long wait at the main gate. To my surprise, we were not taken to the chapel, but led to a wing deep in the bowels of the prison. By the noise I heard coming from the inside, I could tell it was full of women. Sure enough, it was the women’s dorm area. We were taken to a smallish room in the back where about 100 women were led in. Most all of them had children with them, so that when we were all in it felt more like some kind of training at a health clinic than a prison. I can’t tell you how emotionally appalling it is to see these women locked up with their young children. I don’t know what crimes the women are guilty of, but I cannot imagine what it would be like to be a child locked up for years with my mother.

From talking to Bridget and Zachee about orphanages around here though, these children are actually far better off in the care of their mothers than being put into an orphanage where there may be 60 or more babies to 3 year olds in a tiny room, 3 to a bed, under the care of one or maybe two people, often badly malnourished, and worse, starving for affection and a human touch from an adult.

Despite the pain that the scene in the room caused me, I did take the time to go around and greet every woman and child in the room, and look them in the eyes and try to see Christ in them. It was good to begin this way for me so I could see more clearly their humanity. One practical problem I realized I had. I had not been told we would be talking to women, and my sermon was quite frankly, oriented toward men. During the opening prayer given by Zenon I considered whether to go ahead and give the sermon I had prepared or to change and improvise a sermon that would speak more to women.

I am eternally indebted to the experience and training provided by the KAIROS prison ministry in New York for helping me in these situations. I can’t even count the number of times that things had to be radically readjusted midstream in a visit there. I have really learned to trust the Holy Spirit then.

When it was my turn, I am happy to say that my Kirundi is getting good enough that I can introduce myself and even talk a bit. I told them that I was a father with a wife and two young children. (names and ages.) Then I opened the Bible to John 4 and preached a sermon on the Jesus and the Samaritan woman at the well. (I did not read or preach in Kirundi.) It was completely improvised but I felt very led by the spirit.

At the end of the sermon many women came up for prayer and healing and several to make a confession of faith. We laid hands on them and prayed, before leaving.

I felt like our time in the place was short, and we did not have any control over the time of the visit. I was grateful though, that we had been able to get in, and I am hoping that there will be other opportunities in the near future. One thing this is doing is opening my eyes to the need for justice in this system. The judiciary here is corrupt, and the process to get a hearing is extremely slow. Many people are locked up who are not guilty of anything but being accused by a false witness, from what I understand. Even those who are guilty, though, are in an nearly inhuman situation. Thinking back to my experiences in the US, I never thought I would say that the Coxsackie Correctional Facility in New York, looks like a 4 star hotel compared to this place.

Thursday evening was New Year’s Eve. We had some friends over for dinner, (Tim and Jeanette, a missionary couple from South Africa) We prayed for the new year after we ate, but then turned in early, after we got the kids to bed. From the noise outside, I would say that the rest of Bujumbura was partying all night.

When I talked to others about what they had done, I found that most Christians go to an all night church vigil where they sing, pray and listen to sermons from about 8pm to 6am. Many non religious people go to bar all night for about the same amount of time. So apparently at 6 am on New Years Day, the streets are packed with large groups of very drunk, and very sober people making their way home in the morning.

We had a relaxing weekend, trying to spend quality time with the kids. We did some fun crafts with Oren from a book that we got for Christmas of things to do. Among our activities was to make puppets. There were many varieties including a ‘chin puppet’. You put eyes and a nose on your chin then hang off a bed to make a very funny little talking face. David found this very strange to see the tiny face on mommy talking to him. But both kids were amused.

I think we are now prepared this morning for the tidal wave of work that awaits us today. Oren goes back to school as well. Happy New Year Everyone!