Five weeks ago we began a journey together inventing a new blog. Thanks for reading and participating. I can't tell you how much it meant and means to me that a group was interested in the ramblings of Sue and I. I would like to share one last story.
On the airplane coming home the Clint Eastwood movie, Invictus, was shown. As most of you know the story line centers around Nelson Mandela and the Springboks, a rugby team that won the World Cup against great odds on behalf of the new South Africa. I just had to cry as I watched the portrayal of the human issues taken to such extremes and at such expense in that poor country. Several times Mandela refers to the poem written by William Henley in the late 1800s as he looked at amputation of a leg to save his life. It goes:
Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the pit from pole to pole.
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.
In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.
Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds and shall find me unafraid
It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate;
I am the captain of my soul.
What a great poem and movie! I met a lot of folks who are truly bloody but unbowed. If any of you are interested in having more contact please look at http://www.pfrwanda.org for general info, an opportunity to sign up for their newsletter, or go to prisonfellowshiprwanda@blogspot.com for amazing stories periodically of what is being done, and if you care to communicate directly, Guma's email address is gumaalexandre@gmail.com. I, of course, am a bit player but would love to share thoughts and feelings with any of you at any time. There is a free Starbucks coffee in it for anyone who contacts me at dlminson@yahoo.com or calls at 503-648-5579.
My personal bead is a bit different than Henley's. I can't make injustice, hatred, poverty and sickness go away. But I can live a life consistent with the calling of my God in an arena where those things are clearly present. I can also do things to make a difference in people's lives who have a great deal more to deal with than I. God loves each of us and wants desperately to relate to us in the midst of our human stories. Christ died for the redemption of our very beings. So, pray with St. Francis and with me:
Lord, make me an instrument of your peace,
Where there is hatred, let me sow love;
where there is injury, pardon;
where there is despair, hope;
where there is darkness, light,
where there is sadness, joy;
O divine Master, grant that I may not so much
seek to be consoled as to console,
to be understood as to understand;
to be loved as to love.
For it is in the giving that we receive;
it is in pardoning that we are pardoned;
and it is in dying that we are born to eternal live.
Thanks and God bless each of you.
dlm
Sunday, June 6, 2010
Monday, May 31, 2010
"My baby needs milk"
As Sue said in her last entry...we are still in Rwanda. Somehow our tickets got issued for the wrong day and so we spent last night in Kigali trying to get me over my second bout with some kind of African bug. I am much better today and ready for the trip home. So I thought I would share a bit before turning off the computer.
Since my last entry we traveled north to a reconciliation village, met with Bishop John, took wonderful photos of the gorillas, said goodbye to our friends at Prison Fellowship, learned about a child being named after me, and camped out here for the night. What I would like to recall with you is an interchange at the village.
I am kind of a born politician. When I go to these villages I go around and meet everyone, shaking their hands, and exchanging a bit with them. As I was doing that I found myself talking to a very nice lady who had a three month old child resting on her back attached with a shawl. Her name was Sarah. She spoke perfect English and translated a bit for me. I have several photos of she and her child. Eventually she explained her husband was away somewhere and she had nothing. She finally said something to the effect she needed money to buy porridge so she could feed herself and produce milk for her baby. I have to confess my skin is tough when it comes to panhandlers. I found myself almost walking away from her with a comment like. "have a nice life". I did give her some money...and now I think of the exchange with a real sense of joy.
I wonder if there is a lesson for me to learn about generosity. It is perhaps not the object of the giving I need to focus upon but rather my personal relationship with the God who gave me what I have. Anyone who is interested...I intend to write one last entry after arriving home. God bless.
dlm
Since my last entry we traveled north to a reconciliation village, met with Bishop John, took wonderful photos of the gorillas, said goodbye to our friends at Prison Fellowship, learned about a child being named after me, and camped out here for the night. What I would like to recall with you is an interchange at the village.
I am kind of a born politician. When I go to these villages I go around and meet everyone, shaking their hands, and exchanging a bit with them. As I was doing that I found myself talking to a very nice lady who had a three month old child resting on her back attached with a shawl. Her name was Sarah. She spoke perfect English and translated a bit for me. I have several photos of she and her child. Eventually she explained her husband was away somewhere and she had nothing. She finally said something to the effect she needed money to buy porridge so she could feed herself and produce milk for her baby. I have to confess my skin is tough when it comes to panhandlers. I found myself almost walking away from her with a comment like. "have a nice life". I did give her some money...and now I think of the exchange with a real sense of joy.
I wonder if there is a lesson for me to learn about generosity. It is perhaps not the object of the giving I need to focus upon but rather my personal relationship with the God who gave me what I have. Anyone who is interested...I intend to write one last entry after arriving home. God bless.
dlm
Don't Forget Rwanda
If I have learned one thing in a month in Africa, it is that plans can change. Last night we spent our "last" night in Kigali, had a nice Indian dinner (Chicken Tikka Masala, yum!!) and tried to confirm
our flight to Addis Ababa this afternoon. Three phone numbers were either incorrect or not functioning. Doug finally reached someone in the cargo division of Ethiopian Airlines, who tried to help but didn't get anywhere.
This morning I attended to some final details (the resident's grades for the month) at the hospital and bid goodbye to my friends. Esperance, the public relations officer who looked after me so well, told me about her experience during the genocide of losing her husband and her son, and her parents. She showed me the scar on her Achilles tendon and said they fractured her skull. She is such a beautiful person, filled with love for God and quiet dignity. I prayed for her and she then prayed for me, in Kinyarwanda. It was a precious experience. I know we will see each other again.
The staff at Prison Fellowship had us to the office to say goodbye and to have lunch together before taking us to the airport. They presented us with an African shirt for Doug and a long dress for me. I think they must have been studying our body types, because the clothes fit perfectly. Christine, the wife of pastor Deo, doesn't speak much English, but managed to communicate with me. She called me "Mami" and said "I love you."
She and Guma took us to the airport, and we again said goodbye. After waiting a half hour, we were able to check in at the Ethiopian desk. All went well until they asked us if we had changed the date on our ticket. It seems that the flights we were booked into don't fly today, but tomorrow! A wonderful ticket agent took on our cause, and rebooked us for tomorrow. He directed us to a hotel with airport shuttle, and we are comfortably nesting in a room with free WiFi. This is a positive turn of events, since we didn't sleep well last night and only today got some stronger cough medicine for Doug to try to shake his virus.
Esperance gave me a package when I saw her this morning. It has two tee shirts, one for me and one for Doug, printed with a traditionally shaped basket, and the words "Don't Forget Rwanda." I know that I never will.
our flight to Addis Ababa this afternoon. Three phone numbers were either incorrect or not functioning. Doug finally reached someone in the cargo division of Ethiopian Airlines, who tried to help but didn't get anywhere.
This morning I attended to some final details (the resident's grades for the month) at the hospital and bid goodbye to my friends. Esperance, the public relations officer who looked after me so well, told me about her experience during the genocide of losing her husband and her son, and her parents. She showed me the scar on her Achilles tendon and said they fractured her skull. She is such a beautiful person, filled with love for God and quiet dignity. I prayed for her and she then prayed for me, in Kinyarwanda. It was a precious experience. I know we will see each other again.
The staff at Prison Fellowship had us to the office to say goodbye and to have lunch together before taking us to the airport. They presented us with an African shirt for Doug and a long dress for me. I think they must have been studying our body types, because the clothes fit perfectly. Christine, the wife of pastor Deo, doesn't speak much English, but managed to communicate with me. She called me "Mami" and said "I love you."
She and Guma took us to the airport, and we again said goodbye. After waiting a half hour, we were able to check in at the Ethiopian desk. All went well until they asked us if we had changed the date on our ticket. It seems that the flights we were booked into don't fly today, but tomorrow! A wonderful ticket agent took on our cause, and rebooked us for tomorrow. He directed us to a hotel with airport shuttle, and we are comfortably nesting in a room with free WiFi. This is a positive turn of events, since we didn't sleep well last night and only today got some stronger cough medicine for Doug to try to shake his virus.
Esperance gave me a package when I saw her this morning. It has two tee shirts, one for me and one for Doug, printed with a traditionally shaped basket, and the words "Don't Forget Rwanda." I know that I never will.
Thursday, May 27, 2010
Movin' On
It hardly seems possible. We are now in our last weekend here. I met yesterday with Guma and came up with a plan for the presentation of the vision for the street children. For approximately $130 per month they can be taken off the street, entered in a technical school, housed, clothed, and fed. Seems like a bargain.
Today is Friday and it is 4:30 am. We are to be picked up at 6:00 and transported to a reconciliation village for much of the day. It will be good to have Sue's reaction to that. We will then be taken to a town where Bishop John has a church, school, and compound. Bishop John is the force in a sense behind what is going on here. It will be great to see he and Harriet again. Tomorrow we are going to the reserve where Dianne Fosse gave her life for the gorillas. Everyone says the photo opportunity is amazing and I am ready!
We may not have much of an opportunity to be online after this. Thanks to all who have read our blog. It has been a learning experience. We will make at least one more entry when we finally get home. God bless all of you.
dlm
Today is Friday and it is 4:30 am. We are to be picked up at 6:00 and transported to a reconciliation village for much of the day. It will be good to have Sue's reaction to that. We will then be taken to a town where Bishop John has a church, school, and compound. Bishop John is the force in a sense behind what is going on here. It will be great to see he and Harriet again. Tomorrow we are going to the reserve where Dianne Fosse gave her life for the gorillas. Everyone says the photo opportunity is amazing and I am ready!
We may not have much of an opportunity to be online after this. Thanks to all who have read our blog. It has been a learning experience. We will make at least one more entry when we finally get home. God bless all of you.
dlm
Tuesday, May 25, 2010
1000 Photographs in Two Days
Akagera National Park is not well known. Someone needs to do something about that! I ran across a statement that it has wildlife roughly equivalent to the Shamwari Game Reserve...only not as much in terms of gross numbers and distances.
Sue is committed daily in such a way that she is not available for the two days it takes to make the trip to the park. I decided before leaving Rwanda to take two days after the marathon experience and go on my own. I contracted with Freddie to pick me up and take me to the north end of the park where Uganda, Rwanda and Tansania come together. As we entered the park I took photographs of zebra grazing in the same vicinity as domesticated cows. After entering we began to open Noah's arc and I took photos of giraffes, buffalos, zebras, hippos, monkeys, impalas, bushbucks, baboons, hyenas, antelopes, gazelles, topes, wart hogs, and numerous other birds, mammals, and reptiles.
I have fantasized often about such an experience and finally had it! How great is that!
Sue is committed daily in such a way that she is not available for the two days it takes to make the trip to the park. I decided before leaving Rwanda to take two days after the marathon experience and go on my own. I contracted with Freddie to pick me up and take me to the north end of the park where Uganda, Rwanda and Tansania come together. As we entered the park I took photographs of zebra grazing in the same vicinity as domesticated cows. After entering we began to open Noah's arc and I took photos of giraffes, buffalos, zebras, hippos, monkeys, impalas, bushbucks, baboons, hyenas, antelopes, gazelles, topes, wart hogs, and numerous other birds, mammals, and reptiles.
I have fantasized often about such an experience and finally had it! How great is that!
Monday, May 24, 2010
"Take my hand"
I have just had a jaw dropping experience, and now that the power is back on I can blog about it!!
The story begins at the "supermarket" about a forty minute walk from the guesthouse. I needed to stock up on food, and although I knew it would probably be dark by the time I finished, I set out this afternoon to get groceries. After choosing my items, I got in line and a woman appeared in front of me with a complex transaction. The store is a cross between WalMart and Fred Meyer, with appliances, furniture, and TVs as well as food. The largest denomination of Rwandan francs printed apparently is a 5000 franc note, which is about the equivalent of $8.00 U.S. The woman in front of me was counting out endless stacks of these notes, and the checker was recounting them, etc. etc. She must have been buying bedroom furniture or something.
After watching this action for a very long time, and seeing that progress was not being made, I put my things back in the cart and headed for another checkout line. A store employee saw me and took pity on me, opening another cash register and ushering me to the front of a line that formed quickly as he opened. There was an angry exchange between two locals and the store employee, during which the word "Mzungu" was frequently featured. This is the word for a white person.
My finely sharpened sense of defensiveness immediately arose. I was being misjudged, and I didn't like it. I didn't stop to ask myself how many times I've misjudged someone else, especially someone from another culture. No, I just wanted to set the record straight. After some very unpleasant glaring, I took my purchases and headed out the door, into the darkness.
This was the first time I didn't feel welcomed and accepted in Rwanda. I'm sure it had to happen eventually, but it was painful. My spirit was as heavy as my backpack of groceries as I picked my way along the "sidewalk," dodging cars backing out of driveways and motor scooters roaring along on the wrong side of the road. I had forgotten my flashlight and the streetlights weren't working due to a power outage, so I had to navigate by the light of those threatening cars and an almost full moon.
I was halfway home when I heard a voice to my right say "you're walking alone in the dark and you're not afraid?" I looked up to see a tall young man, white teeth shining in the moonlight. His English was quite good, and as we walked we chatted about our lives & what I was doing here. When I asked him where he was going, he replied "Nyamirambo," which is where the guest house is located. So I had a walking companion.
His name is Giovanni, and he is a student at KIST, the Kigali Institute of Science and Technology. He is studying civil engineering, still in his first of four years. He told me he has three dreams: He wants to be an engineer, to become a photographer and travel, and then after he has traveled he wants to settle down and have an orphanage. He wants to help people.
He is the oldest of four boys, who live with their mother in the neighborhood somewhere near here. She works, but as Giovanni says, it is difficult to feed four boys. He proudly showed me a book he had just bought, about do-it-yourself home repairs. He thinks maybe he can pick up some jobs to help with the home and school expenses if he learns how to fix things.
We came to a portion of the walkway which is badly broken up, with a three foot drop into an open sewer if you misstep. I told him I didn't like this part, but he laughed and said "I can walk here with my eyes closed. Take my hand." My defensiveness had melted by this time, and I was entirely comfortable. So, I ended up walking hand in hand with this young student!
How many of us would take a strange Rwandan by the hand and help him home? How many times have I withheld mercy because I could justify it to myself? These are some of the questions whirling in my head after this evening.
Doug and I have commented to each other about how the culture here seems to revolve around groups. Everything is done together. We see Rwandans walking hand in hand, or arms draped around each other. The anesthesia residents were shocked when they learned that in America anesthesiologists practice alone. They actually thought such practice was illegal! I have a lot to learn from these people about relationships.
When I got home, Giovanni and I exchanged emails. We both agreed that the world is a far better place because of the connections we can make via the internet. I will stay in touch with this young man, and I expect him to be a fine engineer. I am learning that one of my roles as an "older" person is to encourage the dreams of the young people I am meeting. Another role I intend to increase when I get home is to provide hospitality, hopefully as wonderfully as it has been provided to me in Rwanda.
The story begins at the "supermarket" about a forty minute walk from the guesthouse. I needed to stock up on food, and although I knew it would probably be dark by the time I finished, I set out this afternoon to get groceries. After choosing my items, I got in line and a woman appeared in front of me with a complex transaction. The store is a cross between WalMart and Fred Meyer, with appliances, furniture, and TVs as well as food. The largest denomination of Rwandan francs printed apparently is a 5000 franc note, which is about the equivalent of $8.00 U.S. The woman in front of me was counting out endless stacks of these notes, and the checker was recounting them, etc. etc. She must have been buying bedroom furniture or something.
After watching this action for a very long time, and seeing that progress was not being made, I put my things back in the cart and headed for another checkout line. A store employee saw me and took pity on me, opening another cash register and ushering me to the front of a line that formed quickly as he opened. There was an angry exchange between two locals and the store employee, during which the word "Mzungu" was frequently featured. This is the word for a white person.
My finely sharpened sense of defensiveness immediately arose. I was being misjudged, and I didn't like it. I didn't stop to ask myself how many times I've misjudged someone else, especially someone from another culture. No, I just wanted to set the record straight. After some very unpleasant glaring, I took my purchases and headed out the door, into the darkness.
This was the first time I didn't feel welcomed and accepted in Rwanda. I'm sure it had to happen eventually, but it was painful. My spirit was as heavy as my backpack of groceries as I picked my way along the "sidewalk," dodging cars backing out of driveways and motor scooters roaring along on the wrong side of the road. I had forgotten my flashlight and the streetlights weren't working due to a power outage, so I had to navigate by the light of those threatening cars and an almost full moon.
I was halfway home when I heard a voice to my right say "you're walking alone in the dark and you're not afraid?" I looked up to see a tall young man, white teeth shining in the moonlight. His English was quite good, and as we walked we chatted about our lives & what I was doing here. When I asked him where he was going, he replied "Nyamirambo," which is where the guest house is located. So I had a walking companion.
His name is Giovanni, and he is a student at KIST, the Kigali Institute of Science and Technology. He is studying civil engineering, still in his first of four years. He told me he has three dreams: He wants to be an engineer, to become a photographer and travel, and then after he has traveled he wants to settle down and have an orphanage. He wants to help people.
He is the oldest of four boys, who live with their mother in the neighborhood somewhere near here. She works, but as Giovanni says, it is difficult to feed four boys. He proudly showed me a book he had just bought, about do-it-yourself home repairs. He thinks maybe he can pick up some jobs to help with the home and school expenses if he learns how to fix things.
We came to a portion of the walkway which is badly broken up, with a three foot drop into an open sewer if you misstep. I told him I didn't like this part, but he laughed and said "I can walk here with my eyes closed. Take my hand." My defensiveness had melted by this time, and I was entirely comfortable. So, I ended up walking hand in hand with this young student!
How many of us would take a strange Rwandan by the hand and help him home? How many times have I withheld mercy because I could justify it to myself? These are some of the questions whirling in my head after this evening.
Doug and I have commented to each other about how the culture here seems to revolve around groups. Everything is done together. We see Rwandans walking hand in hand, or arms draped around each other. The anesthesia residents were shocked when they learned that in America anesthesiologists practice alone. They actually thought such practice was illegal! I have a lot to learn from these people about relationships.
When I got home, Giovanni and I exchanged emails. We both agreed that the world is a far better place because of the connections we can make via the internet. I will stay in touch with this young man, and I expect him to be a fine engineer. I am learning that one of my roles as an "older" person is to encourage the dreams of the young people I am meeting. Another role I intend to increase when I get home is to provide hospitality, hopefully as wonderfully as it has been provided to me in Rwanda.
Sunday, May 23, 2010
Kigali Peace Marathon
Well...this morning was the time (8:00 am turned into 9:00) and Amahoro (Peace) stadium was the place. Talk about some amazing people all together for an event. The marathon is a brutal course and was conducted at mid day under equatorial sun as it turned out. It is an "out and back" course, each of four legs being a little over 6 miles in length. It is half strongly uphill and half essentially downhill. The Kenyans simply took off and the winner ran the course in 2 hours 2 minutes. They are so beautiful to watch. And they are all great runners. I think I counted 20...all of whom run together and have times in the 2 hours plus area.
For reasons that are not clear to me I was signed up for the full marathon and the rest of my "team" the half marathon. Had I known that was happening I would have made sure I was properly signed up with them. However, it was what it was and bottom line I cut after the half...came in last of my group but had a great time with them. They are so full of life and so appreciative. I would love to attach photos...we have many...but the internet connection here sucks so badly we have not been able to get that function to work. When we get home I'll email some photos of the most handsome group of Rwandans you will likely ever see to anyone interested.
I have had questions about my ability to regain any shape for running again. I think those questions can now be laid to rest. My various surgical sites seem to have held out just fine (thanks, Dr. Tony) and the real question now is getting myself in shape. A truly worthy objective. Bottom line today is it was a tough but wonderful day with great young people. And for those of you like my mom and sister who worried about me, I survived. Thanks for the prayers.
dlm
For reasons that are not clear to me I was signed up for the full marathon and the rest of my "team" the half marathon. Had I known that was happening I would have made sure I was properly signed up with them. However, it was what it was and bottom line I cut after the half...came in last of my group but had a great time with them. They are so full of life and so appreciative. I would love to attach photos...we have many...but the internet connection here sucks so badly we have not been able to get that function to work. When we get home I'll email some photos of the most handsome group of Rwandans you will likely ever see to anyone interested.
I have had questions about my ability to regain any shape for running again. I think those questions can now be laid to rest. My various surgical sites seem to have held out just fine (thanks, Dr. Tony) and the real question now is getting myself in shape. A truly worthy objective. Bottom line today is it was a tough but wonderful day with great young people. And for those of you like my mom and sister who worried about me, I survived. Thanks for the prayers.
dlm
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