Worshipers Outside Seaview United Methodist Church, Mutare, Zimbabwe

RAISING THE ROOF

Perhaps the most uplifting and energizing aspect of our visit to Zimbabwe was seeing up close the teeming growth of churches in and around Harare. Reading our blog, you will be aware of some of those thrilling experiences. A vital part of that growth is new church buildings, an especially heavy task for poor people doing their level best to cope with runaway inflation.

Now, back in the U. S., we ask how we can support and enable further growth. Our answer: participate in BIG Ministry’s fund-raising effort to provide a roof for Seaview United Methodist Church in Mutare. We worshiped with Seaview people in the shelter that has provided adequately for their growth, but now, government authorities are demanding Seaview to vacate their “temporary” shelter soon.

It will be Seaview’s task to build the church walls. Bricks will be made by the people and walls constructed for about $3,000.00 U.S., for a building that will accommodate over 1,000 worshipers, but they will need at least $6,000.00 to put a roof on that building. That is BIG Ministry’s challenge to those of us who know first-hand the courage and determination of our Christian sisters and brothers at Seaview United Methodist Church.

We are inviting you to join us in fulfilling that challenge. If you want to help us raise the roof, please send contributions, marked “for Seaview,” to BIG Ministry, PO Box 125, Stow, MA 01775-0125. There is an e-mail link to us in this blog, and we will be glad if you let us know about your contribution. You can find out more about BIG Ministry and the Moyos at their website, www.thebigm.org. You will also see several pictures and details about our team’s visit to Zimbabwe last August.

Round Trip Complete

Once again, we are in Maynard, MA, three flights behind us since we left Gaborone, Botswana, at 4:30 p.m. yesterday (Saturday), then Jo'burg at 8:00 p.m., flew all night, landed in Atlanta, GA, at 7:30 a.m. today (that's 17 1/2 hours if my math is correct), and were on a Boston flight at 10:30 a.m.--and our luggage followed us all the way! We are truly grateful, not just for safe travels but much more, for three marvelous weeks filled with mind- and soul-stretching experiences with people who found their way under our skin and into our hearts. Annette read me a quote from a flight magazine that summarizes our feelings: Africa is like malaria; once it is in your blood, it stays there a very long time. Thanks much for your interest and prayers.

Back in Gaborone

It's Friday afternoon, and we are back in Gaborone after a 700 km bus trip from Ghanzi. We said good-bye to Jim (Jan has been in Gabs for a conference) at 7:00 a.m., and the bus set off down the long road south and east on the Trans-Kalahari Highway. The only problem: the driver did not make the usual rest stop at Kang, 260 km from Ghanzi. I needed that stop, so I raised the issue after we left Kang. The result: a stop along the road, a dozen people, men and women, getting out and heading into the bush, or almost into the bush, including me. There is always the possibility of a new experience! Annette stayed put and managed to survive until we reach Jwaneng, 180 km further on, and a 15-minute stop there. All in all, it was a good ride, and now we are in the final countdown before our long trip back across the ocean tomorrow night.

In Touch with San People

Tomorrow, our Ghanzi visit ends when we board the 7:00 a.m. bus to Gaborone. It has been a week full of powerful experiences. Jim and I have just come from the Community Center where gifts were given to several orphans and used clothing passed on to other needy people. That was the climax of a two-hour meeting with many speeches but also hymns and prayers, surprising in a government-sponsored event but altogether common here.

Yesterday, we rode more than 100 km into the bush to visit a San village, New Xati. The ride itself was an experience to remember--that total distance in one hour over gravel roads. In addition to simply seeing such a bush village, it was interesting to learn that the San of that community had been moved from Xati, a location further east in the Kalahari Game Preserve, just seven years ago. The resentment at that forced move is still strong. A large concentration of government services, including a boarding primary school and a sizable hospital, are in Xati. We were especially impressed by a program called Permaculture, aimed at providing stable income for Xati residents--making jewelry, raising gardens, making cement blocks for house-building, raising chickens.

Certainly, the most mind-boggling experience was attending a San funeral on Tuesday here in Ghanzi. Jahn Wessels picked me up at 2:30 p.m. Our first stop was the hospital pathology lab, where, with several members of the family, we watched the dead person being placed in the coffin. The coffin was loaded into a Toyota Land Cruiser and taken to the man's home, a shack, where a large group of people of all ages waited for us. The service took place there, and then we processed to the cemetery for another short service and the grave closing by men in the group, accompanied by women singing. We returned to the man's house, listened to stories about him (all in Tetswana or Naro, of course). Finally, we were served tea and samp, which had been cooking nearby over an open fire. Altogether, it was an experience of enormous cultural distance that I would not want to have missed.

We will leave Ghanzi and the Lundeens sadly tomorrow. They face an interesting and productive two years with beautiful people who are genuinely warm, accepting, and caring. We will continue to follow their experiences eagerly.

Ghanzi Adventures

Our trip to Ghanzi Saturday morning began as an adventure and continued so until our arrival eight hours later. Our very considerate taxi driver took us through the maze of bus ranks at the Gaborone bus station, almost every available space around the buses occupied by venders' stalls and a throng of people, to the Ghanzi bus, an aging but comfortable Volvo. As soon as we were seated, a parade of hawkers entered the bus, determined to sell us candy, drinks, food, wallets, key chains, or whatever, most responding to a shake of our heads, a few much more determined that we must buy their wares. Shortly after the scheduled time, 10:00 a.m., the bus began to move slowly through the maze and out into the streets. We were soon speeding down the highway toward Ghanzi, 700 km northwest, stopping occasionally to pick up passengers in the city. Major stops were at Jwaneng (a diamond town) where women surrounded the bus, selling lunches and drinks, and at a truck stop/ gasoline station in Kang. By this time, our surroundings were flat desert with few signs of population other than animals: donkeys, cows, goats, ostriches beside the road and often on the road. About 5:00 p.m. and 70 km from Ghanzi, the bus slowed to a stop. We soon realized there was engine trouble. The engine was beside the driver. A large "hood" is removed and smoke and the smell of overheating fills the bus. The driver adds a large quantity of oil, and the trip resumes at far less speed than the over 120 km speed limit we had been traveling up to then. The bus limps slowly into Ghanzi, our arrival 45 minutes later than scheduled.

Jim and Jan Lundeen waited for us at the bus stand, and we walked a block to their house. It was great to see them in their new element, browned by the elements of their desert setting. We enjoyed an evening of dinner and conversation, catching up on their life and work in Ghanzi (pronounced HAHN-zee, incidentally), getting to bed fairly early after our long day of travel.

Sunday turned out to be a day of remarkable adventure. At 8:00 a.m., the four of us are picked up by Jahn Wessels, the Reformed Church missionary in the Ghanzi district. He tells us quickly about his morning problems: a neighbor's goat had invaded his yard, eaten all of his garden, and ended up in the back of his pick-up to be transported back to its mother. Thus, when we arrive at his house to collect his wife and two children, the hose is brought out to thoroughly wash away the obvious evidence of the goat passenger so that the back of the pick-up would be suitable for human passengers. Presently, we are off on an 85 km trip--at speeds up to 160 km/hr--to Chobokwani, where the first of two bush church services will take place. Jahn's first act is to ring the church bell for five minutes, while Beppi, his wife, sets up tea and biscuits for her guests. Well fed, we then set out for a walk, stopping at two homes (thatched-roof rondavels) of church families. The people in Chobokwani, and much of the Ghanzi district, are San, a tribe with ancient history in southern Africa, often a history of abuse and displacement by whites and other African tribes. These are the people who make up the church group, probably 50 people, mostly young people and children, who eventually gather in the church shelter, sitting on narrow, backless benches, and the service begins. Compared to the Methodist services in which we participated in Zimbabwe, this service is subdued, but the singing is marvelously harmonic. Jahn preaches the sermon, then gives me an opportunity to speak briefly. Altogether, it is an amazing, first-time experience.

After a snack of bread and tea, we again board the pick-up, this time accompanied by a second pick-up, the boxes of each packed with young people, and we are off to the second service with San that work on a farm belonging to white Christians. This trip is 40 km, except for the first five or six, on rough, sand roads, at 50-60 km/hr, stopping several times to open and close gates, as we drive deep into the desert bush to the cattle farm (ranch, in America) that is our destination. There, Jahn takes us first to a small compound of San houses, and soon people are walking across the sand--here, eaten bare except for the high branches of trees, by the flock of goats that are nearby--to the yard near the farm house. There is no church bell, but soon about 70 people, again mostly young and including the 30 or so young people who have come with us from Chobokwani, have gathered, sitting in a circle on the sand. Again, Jahn Wessels leads a service much like the service we had attended earlier, the singing usually soft and beautifully harmonic, no clapping, no dancing, but quiet and worshipful. The service ends, the people walk away toward their homes, we visit for a while with the couple who own the farm and employ the people with whom we had worshipped. Then, we return to bouncing down the road, back to Chobokwani and a delicious dinner Beppi has prepared for us over an open fire while we were away. That finished, we set out for Ghanzi in the darkness, at much slower speeds so that Jahn can avoid hitting the animals, mostly cows that graze here and there near the road.

Today dawns cloudy, surprising the people who expect relentless sunshine at this time of year. Jim and Jan remark that there have been no clouds since they arrived three months ago. Annette and I go with them to their offices, Annette with Jan, I with Jim, in time for the 7:30 a.m. devotions that open the day in the government offices where they work. We hear singing, preaching, and praying, starting the day for these workers, whose major concern is the HIV/AIDS epidemic that infects about a third of their people. Later today, after a trip with Jahn to another San village, we will attend a prayer meeting at the Community Center, involving many of Jim and Jan's co-workers, with prayers specifically centered about meeting the challenge of HIV/AIDS in the Ghanzi district. Perhaps you will join with us at that time (11:30 a.m. EDT).

In Botswana

This morning, we woke up in Gaborone. A short flight from Jo'burg yesterday brought us to this small city on the edge of the Kalahari Desert. Differences from Harare were immediately evident as we rode in a hotel shuttle from the airport, most obvious, vehicles at gasoline stations being filled with fuel, no long lines waiting for fuel that may not come for many hours, even days.

Later this morning, we will take a taxi to the Gaborone bus station and, at 10:00 a.m., should be on our way to Ghanzi, 600 km northwest on the far side of the Kalahari, where we will visit Jim and Jan Lundeen at their Peace Corps post. We look forward to an entirely different adventure with them.

Back in Jo'burg

We left Harare early this morning, sad to leave friends who have become close and dear. Now, we are in Johannesburg, on the way to Gaborone and further adventure in Botswana. I have not had computer access for several days so have been unable to tell you about our trip to Great Zimbabwe and more wonderful contacts with people in churches and homes. Our Zimbabwe visit met all of our expectations and much more, and any fears we had were groundless. We have a host of new friends and memories of amazing hospitality. Now, we are concerned for 16 of our teammates who have been stranded in Harare by a strike at Heathrow.

Jim

A Sunday in Harare

Early this morning--but not early enough--we left our hosts' home to go to Glen Norah East United Methodist Church. When we arrived at 9:15 a.m., the people had been waiting more than 45 minutes, but we were joyfully welcomed nonetheless. The church, which meets in a community center, is six months old. About 300 people were gathered to welcome us, most of them sitting on the floor. At the front, to the left, a group of maybe 50 children were seated on the floor. The Americans were seated at the front, facing the congregation. I sat at the end of the row, next to the children. The joyful singing, and some dancing, continued after we arrived.

The service was entirely in Shona, except for two testimonies by team members and my sermon, which were interpreted. It was my first experience preaching with an interpreter. Preaching in that setting was almost beyond description. By the time I began my sermon, I was feeling so uplifted and joyful myself that almost nothing, including an interpreter, could get in the way of a triumphant experience for me. It was altogether thrilling, with the congregation responding visually and audibly to give marvelous support to the preacher. Even those young children were with me, and that was delightful. I sat down and within a few seconds, I had the hands of several children in mine and two little guys sitting on my lap. I was beside myself with just plain happiness.

Lavish greetings followed the service, and we then went to the pastor's home for the noon meal (the service lasted well over one-and-a-half hours after we arrived). There, we were greeted and thanked and provided a generous meal.

The remainder of the day, like most of yesterday, was restful, with no special obligations. That felt very good, simply to relax and play for a while with Menasha and Tajuba, Pastor and Mrs. Mungure's young granddaughters. Tomorrow, we head south to visit the orphanage where several children supported by the Moyo's BIG Ministry are living. We go on from there to visit the historic site, Great Zimbabwe, on Tuesday.

It is hard to believe that only four days remain in our stay here. We are already feeling the sense of loss we will experience when we say good=bye to our marvelous and generous friends in Zimbabwe.

A Trip to Rural Zimbabwe

It is Saturday morning, a beautiful, sunny, warm winter day in Harare. At breakfast with our hosts, we had Swedish pancakes (my work), and now Annette is hard at work with ten women, teaching them basic quilting. Annette’s goal is that each woman will have a quilted bag in which to carry her sewing materials. It is really a wonderful scene, believe me.

Last evening, we came back to Harare from a trip to eastern rural areas near Mutare. Visiting rural African countryside was new for us, yet we found the same wonderful spirit of people as we worshipped with them, ate the abundant food they prepared for us, and talked with them. Shona is their mother tongue, but most have enough knowledge of English for conversations. In the two worship services we attended—one in a mountain church, the other in Mutare—the major language is Shona but all was interpreted for us. We were again swept up into the sheer joy and enthusiasm of African worship amid the privation and suffering the people endure daily.

We visited Fairfield Children’s Home in Old Mutare and soon had several children surrounding us with their laughter and curiosity. Later, a few of us visited the nearby hospital, prayed with two very ill women, and left the bandages we had rolled with friends in Salem, OR. Another compelling visit was at Nyakasaba High School where we talked to students, took many pictures, and got in on the outdoor closing ceremony as the school term ended. A conversation with the school librarian got me thinking about whether wireless Internet connections might be possible via satellite, as there are now no working computers for students to use. Both Old Mutare and Nyakasaba have long history dating back to the beginning of United Methodist missions in the late 1800’s. Remarkable results of that early work are abundantly evident.

One night, we stayed at Nyakasaba in the pastor’s home. We slept well, but a rooster outside our window did not let us sleep late. We decided he must be a refugee from India, since he began his crowing at 2:30 a.m., three hours before even a hint of dawn. He continued regularly and faithfully until the sun had risen, without a sign of hoarseness in his voice.

Everywhere, we see how much walking is a part of the daily lives of people. We constantly see people of all ages walking at the edge of roads in the city and the countryside. I talked to two young women at the high school who walked for an hour to come to school. We were told that many of the more than 500 students there walk even further. We learned that rural pastors walk many kilometers from church to church. Abiot Moyo, our tour leader, served one circuit in the area of Nyakasaba with seven churches in his circuit, and he walked as much as 16 km between those churches.

Tomorrow, I preach at Glen Norah U. M. Church here in Harare. There will be hundreds of people in the congregation. I will love the experience, I know, although now I cannot imagine being able to bring the sort of excitement and enthusiasm to which the people are accustomed and must need to cope with tests and trials in the week ahead. I will be glad for your prayers.

Why No E-mail?

To those of you who have been expecting e-mail from us or have sent e-mail to us, I must let you know I am sorry I cannot either receive or send e-mail from this computer. The browser is an old-timer that Earthlink will not accept, so I am left in the lurch when it comes to any direct communication with you at present. Annette and I really regret this circumstance, especially because we want to hear from you. You may send messages on this blog, but, of course, those messages are open to any readers.

In Harare

We are nearing the end of our second day in Zimbabwe. We arrived in Harare Sunday evening via Air Zimbabwe from Jo'burg, but without our luggage. Of course, we had no idea where it might be--somewhere in the U.S. or anywhere between. When I arrived back at the Harare Airport Monday afternoon, I was delighted to spot one of our bags on a pile of unclaimed luggage and soon located the other two in the same pile. It was a major relief, as we had not been out of the clothes we were wearing since early Friday morning. Perhaps due to the inconvenience of having to retrieve lost luggage, the customs agent passed me quickly with few questions.

Our hosts are Samson and Mai Mungure, and their children, Musa and Sam, Jr. Samson is district superintendent of 20 United Methodist churches in this area of Harare. The Mungares are making us feel entirely welcome, and we are enjoying all the comforts of their comfortable home, including abundant food. Yesterday, we joined our group (who had arrived on time Sunday morning via British Airways with all 36 pieces of their luggage arriving with them)for meetings with several pastors and visits to churches. Last night's worship service was with hundreds of lively worshipers in a shelter open on all sides to the mild Zim winter, beside the shell of a large church building awaiting its roof.

Today, we first visited for an hour with the Methodist Bishop of this area, then went to a nearby private game park to view African animals in a confined natural area. The giraffe and elephant were missing, though, rented out to a movie production company in South Africa. As enjoyable as viewing animals was seeing up close the excitement of hundreds of young school children on a field trip.

Tomorrow, we leave for Mutare to spend the night. We will visit two orphanages and schools where there are children supported by BIG Ministry, and we will also visit Africa University.

This afternoon, Annette is off on what will surely be one of her happiest adventures. She and Tsitsi Moyo are shopping for fabric. On Saturday, Annette will conduct a quilting workshop with a small group, including Tsitsi, which may be the prelude to a larger quilting program for church women at some later, yet-undetermined future date.

So far, we are enjoying ourselves immensely, as we expected, and bask in the unbridled welcome of the people wherever we go. Also as expected, we are sad to see up close the deprivation so many people live with constantly and are gripped by the desire somehow to make a difference for them in whatever small way.

Blessings and thanks! Jim

More Waiting, Now in Atlanta

When we should be flying somewhere over the Atlantic, we are sitting in a Carribean cafe just off Peachtree Street in Atlanta, eating dinner and making use of their wireless connection. Very early this morning, Biz dropped us off at Logan Airport, and we flew to Atlanta. We rushed to the South African Airways gate, only to learn that the airplane just then landing would not leave until 10:30 a.m. Saturday. Meanwhile, we are provided with a lunch, then given vouchers for an overnight hotel stay at the Grand Hyatt and transported to the hotel.

Drinking tea at Joe Muggs, we meet our captain, who immediately complains himself about not returning to Johannesburg today, since he has been in Atlanta nine days. He assures us we will fly tomorrow--that he is well rested and eager to return home. That sounds like good news for our flight. Not so good news is that we are not assured we can fly to Harare Sunday, so we must wait until we are in Jo'burg to discover how long we will be in a holding pattern there. Sadly, I will miss my preaching appointment Sunday morning in Harare, but we are reasonably certain we will reach Harare and join our group before too long.

Good News!

We have just learned that they SAA strike has ended. The unions announced earlier today that everything should be running smoothly by Friday--the day we are scheduled to fly to Johannesburg from Atlanta. Our fingers are crossed--but once again, we are on track to fly from Boston early Friday morning. Thanks much for your prayers. We hope they will continue.

More Waiting

The South African Airlines strike continues. Today, the airline and the striking unions are in a mediation mode, supposedly aiming at "a swift settlement of their dispute." Could it be that SAA planes will be flying Friday? At present, it seems unlikely, but we are waiting. No alternative routes are currently available. Will we actually fly to Harare Friday? Check back to find out.

Awaiting News

Annette and I are in Maynard, MA, today with Biz and Skip after flying many hours yesterday from Portland, OR, to Manchester, NH. Now, we are awaiting news about the South African Airways strike which, if it continues, will prevent our flying to Harare this Friday. Meanwhile, we go on with various contacts in the Boston area to further prepare for our trip. This afternoon, we will meet with the others in our mission team (who are flying British Airways, not SAA), and we will enjoy typical Zimbabwean food prepared for us by Abiot and Tsitsi Moyo. Thanks much for your interest and prayers.

To Zimbabwe

Last summer, Annette and I became acquainted with Pastor Abiot Moyo when we began attending the United Methodist Church in Maynard, MA. Abiot came to the U. S. from Zimbabwe with his family seven years ago. Now, he and his wife, Tsitsi, are both U. M. pastors in the Boston area. (To learn more about the Moyos and their ministry, click here: http://www.thebigm.org/index.shtml.) One result of this valuable friendship is that we will accompany Abiot and Tsitsi and 15 others on a trip to Harare where we will spend almost two weeks, beginning July 30, with friends of the Moyos and learn about life there. We will live in a home of church members.

After our Zimbabwe experience, we will fly to Gaborone, Botswana, and then ride a bus 600 km to the far side of the Kalahari Desert to Ghanzi where our friends, Jim and Jan Lundeen, are just beginning a 27-month Peace Corps assignment, working with persons with HIV/AIDS. We will return to Boston August 21.

Depending on availability of computers and on-line opportunities, I will attempt to add information and, perhaps, pictures to this blog. We will be glad for your interest and prayers.

Jim