Yes. I am still alive.
I don’t want to leave this place. We had a goodbye party (for lack of a better word) for Tristan, as he flies back to Sweden tomorrow morning. They sang some songs, Pastor Reuben, his wife, and a bunch of the kids gave speeches, and then we sang some more. Half the kids were crying. I’m glad I have a bit more time here. Not ready to leave yet.
Shoot, I’ve got two weeks to catch up on. This was exactly what I was trying to avoid – I hope this does not turn into a mammoth post.
I will stick to the dairy format for now, although I cheat a bit. I wrote some of it last night, some of it now…probably some more tomorrow (and actually, this is posted a day after that).
Oh, before I do, let me introduce you to my unapologetically favorite person here. Have you seen a happier, cutier face? My camera cannot take enough pictures.
Wednesday, August 5, 2009
We were supposed to head into the Congo today and stay in a hotel before traveling up to the High Plateau on Thursday. Upon getting to the border we were informed that the Congo border no longer issues visas (although they have as recent as a month ago) and that we need to go back to the Congolese embassy in Bujumbura. Too bad it’s closed for the day. Thankfully they agree to get them done early the next morning, so we repack the vans and all the muzungus (white people – the Burundians with us don’t need visas) pile into one and head back to crash at Ray’s for the night. We are, in fact, quite a few – the most that will have ever headed into the High Plateau. Ray, Tristan, myself, Jeremy (a guy with World Emergency Relief, an organization that supports African Revival Ministries, which Ray and Pastor Reuben are heavily involved with and is – among many other things - responsible for running New Hope Orphanage), and Peggy and Terry (two ladies from Bella Coola who are from BC 2 Africa, who are organizing the sponsorships for the kids at the orphanage in the Plateau)
Thursday, August 6, 2009
We leave early in the morning. Border crossing works without a hitch. On the way there we pass the site of the Gatumba massacre of 2004 (where all the kids in New Hope came from). A large, grassy field on the outskirts of the village is all that remains.
We arrive in Uvira, Congo in time for the graduation ceremony of the sewing school that ARM runs for widows (and WER funds). It is a good work. ARM also runs a school at the same site – which has now garnered a reputation for being the best school in the district. They just got their national exam marks back that day – all 58 in the graduating class passed (one of only two schools to have achieved this).
It takes a long time to get trucks and baggage organized. We are traveling in four land cruisers and a big truck with all the baggage. We wait another hour in Uvira doing nothing in particular (I am getting used to this). Uvira, by the way, is how you would imagine a typical African town – one main road, which thankfully is paved, but is not really wide enough for two cars to pass, pedestrians and motorcycles everywhere, hawkers selling their wares on the side of the road, horns blaring non-stop – an experience (the next week on our way back one of the bridges was out, forcing us – and all the other traffic – to ford the river below).
We soon turn off the road and onto a dirt track up into the mountains. The road is bad – anything less than an SUV or truck wouldn’t stand a chance in making it up. It takes us six hours to cover 80 kilometers, but we are thankful. It used to be a two day hike.
We arrive after sunset in Marunga. We are at about 2500 meters elevation, so the temperature drops considerably as the sun goes down – it is about 10 degrees when we arrive. I love it. The Africans freeze.
Our group is lodging in a brick house built by an NGO to act as a base for groups serving the High Plateau. There is no electricity or running water. I feel like I’m camping.
Friday, August 7, 2009
Wow, it is beautiful here. The darkness last night had hidden a hilly, fertile landscape, dotted with whitewashed round huts (we are here during the dry season. I can only imagine what it looks like when everything is green). Let me find a foto:
We were told to get up at 7 to start the day. We end up waiting till noon before heading out. This turns out to be the theme of the trip – everyone wants to meet with Reuben while he is here (as expected: he has many personal friends here – having grown up in Marungu – and is also the head of ARM Congo).
We hike down to the waterfall where we hope to install a hydroelectric system to generate electricity for the village (particularly the orphanage and the school). Tristan with Amando (the civil engineer working for ARM):
Hm. A word about the project. We are actually only going to be here for a few days. The original plan was for Tristan to spend considerable time with Amando and for us to be up here for some time, but…this is Africa. Things didn’t work out the way they were supposed to. I am also getting used to this idea.
The project is technically possible. The river is large enough and the drop is high enough to build a multiple kilowatt system. Many questions, however, still remain. The falls are some distance from the village, which is quite spread out (long transmission lines are expensive and can result in unacceptable voltage losses). It is not entirely clear what they want to do with the electricity – who should get power, and what they will use it for. There are many issues and complications when developing rural energy projects (which Tristan is very aware of), but it seems that Reuben and the people in Marungu are not too worried about the socioeconomic issues, but just want Tristan to give them electricity. And they have faith (it seems a much greater faith than Tristan and I) that God will make it happen.
That is many hours of conversation wrapped up in a nutshell. At this point it looks like Tristan will be working together with Amando to provide technical expertise and to determine the best possible system (which may not even be hydroelectric – depending on the price, solar might actually make a lot more sense).
Hm. This trip has been totally different than I expected. When I first came I thought I would be spending quite some time on this project, which is certainly not turning out to be the case. Africa has been teaching me the idea of putting my agenda into God’s hands and letting him deal with. And he has. Beautifully.
Pastors from around the district have been arriving all day to see Reuben, and tonight we gathered for a small church service. A number of them had walked several days; one actually walked through the night and arrived the next morning. We gathered around a small fire as people spontaneously started worship songs. Powerful.
Most of the village eventually surrounds the campfire and we slip away for some shuteye. They sing until after midnight – I can hear them from where I’m sleeping up the hill.
Saturday, August 8, 2009
Happy anniversary, Mom & Dad! J Ha, I didn’t forget. Okay, I did, but writing a diary after the fact has its advantages.
Today was the official opening of the Emmanuel Centre (the orphanage). The Congolese government has given a large parcel of land for the orphanage, and right now it houses 50 kids – the plan is to expand to 300 children and to build a school on the property as well (that will educate the orphans and the rest of the children in the area).
The ceremony is long and the sun is relentless (you can really feel it when you’re sitting on the equator and way up in the mountains). The lady beside me had the good sense to pack an extra shawl. Woman are so practical sometimes. I am eternally grateful.
We head back up the hill for a church service in the evening. We are a large crowd. Probably close to 300. When it gets dark we set up a projector to show a message from Edmund (the pastor of the church in Bujumbura who couldn’t make it). We head to bed as they start watching (really bad) Christian music videos from, uh, Tanzania, I believe. Ray says they’ll probably be watching till midnight. A man walked seven days to Marunga when Ray brought the projector for the first time to show the Jesus film (that was before the road – Ray and Reuben had to hike in then, along with one guy who carried a generator on his head the whole way up).
The people here are beautiful. I spent the weekend walking the fine balance of wanting to get incredible photos while trying not to be insensitive. The weathered faces of the seniors struck me as especially…beautiful, I guess. Yes, that is the right word. Let me throw some goodness at you:
Sunday, August 9, 2009
Sunday morning is another open-air church service. This time we are closer to 500. This time I remember sunscreen.
We head down to the orphanage afterwards so Peggy and Terry can get the kids photos for the sponsorships. I dawdle on my way down. The landscape is of Natural Geographic quality (my photos, I am afraid, do not do it justice).
Monday, August 10, 2009
Ray, Tristan, Jeremy, and I head down to the orphanage with the sunrise to get some more photos and to see the mill in action (it was closed last night). Several women were already there waiting for the mill to open when we arrived. It has been a huge success, saving women many hours of pounding by hand, prompting one to say “now my hands are no longer calloused like my feet”. WestCoasters, we bought that mill.
I had brought a soccer ball and kite with me for the orphanage kids. The kite was a particular novelty.
We make the long drive down to Uvira and the border. The trip is uneventful, except for the time that our driver almost smashed in the back of Ray’s land cruiser because he was tailgating him. We are thankful to get out of that car at the end of the day.
Typical African delays means we get to the border with little time to spare before it closes at 6. There are two borders (Congolese and Burundian) - if you make it through one and not the other before it closes, you have the privilege of spending an evening in no-man’s land, a large swath of mosquito infested marshes. Ray had to do it once – the mosquitoes are so thick that all you can do is stay on the road and walk all night to keep them off you. We made it through the Burundi border at 5:58.
Tristan and I arrived at New Hope to the warmest welcome I have ever received. The Samaratian’s Purse team had actually thrown a special party for the kids in the evening and I felt a bit bad for them as all the kids dropped everything and ran, screaming and laughing, to greet us. It was one of those moments that are not easily forgotten. Maybe we are having some effect here.
That’s long enough for now. From then until the present can be summed up in another post. The week after that was actually fairly uneventful - except for the quick trip we made to Rwanda and Uganda. Word.
Shoot, I’ve got two weeks to catch up on. This was exactly what I was trying to avoid – I hope this does not turn into a mammoth post.
I will stick to the dairy format for now, although I cheat a bit. I wrote some of it last night, some of it now…probably some more tomorrow (and actually, this is posted a day after that).
Oh, before I do, let me introduce you to my unapologetically favorite person here. Have you seen a happier, cutier face? My camera cannot take enough pictures.
Wednesday, August 5, 2009
We were supposed to head into the Congo today and stay in a hotel before traveling up to the High Plateau on Thursday. Upon getting to the border we were informed that the Congo border no longer issues visas (although they have as recent as a month ago) and that we need to go back to the Congolese embassy in Bujumbura. Too bad it’s closed for the day. Thankfully they agree to get them done early the next morning, so we repack the vans and all the muzungus (white people – the Burundians with us don’t need visas) pile into one and head back to crash at Ray’s for the night. We are, in fact, quite a few – the most that will have ever headed into the High Plateau. Ray, Tristan, myself, Jeremy (a guy with World Emergency Relief, an organization that supports African Revival Ministries, which Ray and Pastor Reuben are heavily involved with and is – among many other things - responsible for running New Hope Orphanage), and Peggy and Terry (two ladies from Bella Coola who are from BC 2 Africa, who are organizing the sponsorships for the kids at the orphanage in the Plateau)
Thursday, August 6, 2009
We leave early in the morning. Border crossing works without a hitch. On the way there we pass the site of the Gatumba massacre of 2004 (where all the kids in New Hope came from). A large, grassy field on the outskirts of the village is all that remains.
We arrive in Uvira, Congo in time for the graduation ceremony of the sewing school that ARM runs for widows (and WER funds). It is a good work. ARM also runs a school at the same site – which has now garnered a reputation for being the best school in the district. They just got their national exam marks back that day – all 58 in the graduating class passed (one of only two schools to have achieved this).
It takes a long time to get trucks and baggage organized. We are traveling in four land cruisers and a big truck with all the baggage. We wait another hour in Uvira doing nothing in particular (I am getting used to this). Uvira, by the way, is how you would imagine a typical African town – one main road, which thankfully is paved, but is not really wide enough for two cars to pass, pedestrians and motorcycles everywhere, hawkers selling their wares on the side of the road, horns blaring non-stop – an experience (the next week on our way back one of the bridges was out, forcing us – and all the other traffic – to ford the river below).
We soon turn off the road and onto a dirt track up into the mountains. The road is bad – anything less than an SUV or truck wouldn’t stand a chance in making it up. It takes us six hours to cover 80 kilometers, but we are thankful. It used to be a two day hike.
We arrive after sunset in Marunga. We are at about 2500 meters elevation, so the temperature drops considerably as the sun goes down – it is about 10 degrees when we arrive. I love it. The Africans freeze.
Our group is lodging in a brick house built by an NGO to act as a base for groups serving the High Plateau. There is no electricity or running water. I feel like I’m camping.
Friday, August 7, 2009
Wow, it is beautiful here. The darkness last night had hidden a hilly, fertile landscape, dotted with whitewashed round huts (we are here during the dry season. I can only imagine what it looks like when everything is green). Let me find a foto:
We were told to get up at 7 to start the day. We end up waiting till noon before heading out. This turns out to be the theme of the trip – everyone wants to meet with Reuben while he is here (as expected: he has many personal friends here – having grown up in Marungu – and is also the head of ARM Congo).
We hike down to the waterfall where we hope to install a hydroelectric system to generate electricity for the village (particularly the orphanage and the school). Tristan with Amando (the civil engineer working for ARM):
Hm. A word about the project. We are actually only going to be here for a few days. The original plan was for Tristan to spend considerable time with Amando and for us to be up here for some time, but…this is Africa. Things didn’t work out the way they were supposed to. I am also getting used to this idea.
The project is technically possible. The river is large enough and the drop is high enough to build a multiple kilowatt system. Many questions, however, still remain. The falls are some distance from the village, which is quite spread out (long transmission lines are expensive and can result in unacceptable voltage losses). It is not entirely clear what they want to do with the electricity – who should get power, and what they will use it for. There are many issues and complications when developing rural energy projects (which Tristan is very aware of), but it seems that Reuben and the people in Marungu are not too worried about the socioeconomic issues, but just want Tristan to give them electricity. And they have faith (it seems a much greater faith than Tristan and I) that God will make it happen.
That is many hours of conversation wrapped up in a nutshell. At this point it looks like Tristan will be working together with Amando to provide technical expertise and to determine the best possible system (which may not even be hydroelectric – depending on the price, solar might actually make a lot more sense).
Hm. This trip has been totally different than I expected. When I first came I thought I would be spending quite some time on this project, which is certainly not turning out to be the case. Africa has been teaching me the idea of putting my agenda into God’s hands and letting him deal with. And he has. Beautifully.
Pastors from around the district have been arriving all day to see Reuben, and tonight we gathered for a small church service. A number of them had walked several days; one actually walked through the night and arrived the next morning. We gathered around a small fire as people spontaneously started worship songs. Powerful.
Most of the village eventually surrounds the campfire and we slip away for some shuteye. They sing until after midnight – I can hear them from where I’m sleeping up the hill.
Saturday, August 8, 2009
Happy anniversary, Mom & Dad! J Ha, I didn’t forget. Okay, I did, but writing a diary after the fact has its advantages.
Today was the official opening of the Emmanuel Centre (the orphanage). The Congolese government has given a large parcel of land for the orphanage, and right now it houses 50 kids – the plan is to expand to 300 children and to build a school on the property as well (that will educate the orphans and the rest of the children in the area).
The ceremony is long and the sun is relentless (you can really feel it when you’re sitting on the equator and way up in the mountains). The lady beside me had the good sense to pack an extra shawl. Woman are so practical sometimes. I am eternally grateful.
We head back up the hill for a church service in the evening. We are a large crowd. Probably close to 300. When it gets dark we set up a projector to show a message from Edmund (the pastor of the church in Bujumbura who couldn’t make it). We head to bed as they start watching (really bad) Christian music videos from, uh, Tanzania, I believe. Ray says they’ll probably be watching till midnight. A man walked seven days to Marunga when Ray brought the projector for the first time to show the Jesus film (that was before the road – Ray and Reuben had to hike in then, along with one guy who carried a generator on his head the whole way up).
The people here are beautiful. I spent the weekend walking the fine balance of wanting to get incredible photos while trying not to be insensitive. The weathered faces of the seniors struck me as especially…beautiful, I guess. Yes, that is the right word. Let me throw some goodness at you:
Sunday, August 9, 2009
Sunday morning is another open-air church service. This time we are closer to 500. This time I remember sunscreen.
We head down to the orphanage afterwards so Peggy and Terry can get the kids photos for the sponsorships. I dawdle on my way down. The landscape is of Natural Geographic quality (my photos, I am afraid, do not do it justice).
Monday, August 10, 2009
Ray, Tristan, Jeremy, and I head down to the orphanage with the sunrise to get some more photos and to see the mill in action (it was closed last night). Several women were already there waiting for the mill to open when we arrived. It has been a huge success, saving women many hours of pounding by hand, prompting one to say “now my hands are no longer calloused like my feet”. WestCoasters, we bought that mill.
I had brought a soccer ball and kite with me for the orphanage kids. The kite was a particular novelty.
We make the long drive down to Uvira and the border. The trip is uneventful, except for the time that our driver almost smashed in the back of Ray’s land cruiser because he was tailgating him. We are thankful to get out of that car at the end of the day.
Typical African delays means we get to the border with little time to spare before it closes at 6. There are two borders (Congolese and Burundian) - if you make it through one and not the other before it closes, you have the privilege of spending an evening in no-man’s land, a large swath of mosquito infested marshes. Ray had to do it once – the mosquitoes are so thick that all you can do is stay on the road and walk all night to keep them off you. We made it through the Burundi border at 5:58.
Tristan and I arrived at New Hope to the warmest welcome I have ever received. The Samaratian’s Purse team had actually thrown a special party for the kids in the evening and I felt a bit bad for them as all the kids dropped everything and ran, screaming and laughing, to greet us. It was one of those moments that are not easily forgotten. Maybe we are having some effect here.
That’s long enough for now. From then until the present can be summed up in another post. The week after that was actually fairly uneventful - except for the quick trip we made to Rwanda and Uganda. Word.
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12:48 AM
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