Meet Charles

I can't begin to describe the fun we had meeting our new sponsor kid, Charles John Chatanda! He's one of the 70+ children Lahash helps to support. He's three-and-a-half years old and lives with his mom and a couple of siblings. His dad has died, and his grandmother, who brought him first to meet us, cares for him while his mother works at the market. I'd spotted him at the Iringa Road Mennonite Church "headstart" center and again on Friday when the Lahash kids are at IRMC, well before we learned he'd be "ours." Getting to know him was a little shaky at first--he wasn't sure about those old white people. He soon warmed up and came to us happily, even seemed quite touched when we left that day as he stood waving to us. Take a look at some pictures; I'm sure you'll fall in love with him, too.

Charles eating lunch with other Lahash-sponsored children.







Charles with Asher, our 17-month-old team member from Portland

Creating a Fuel Briquette Press

An intention I had for my Dodoma stay was to help create a base for biomass fuel briquetting. The first step was a session with a dozen or so interested people, presenting a slide show of my own training session with the inventor, Richard Stanley. The response was very positive. We moved ahead to construct the hand-operated press. I had brought the metal parts from Portland, but we needed to purchase local timber. We went to a timber shop at the massive Dodoma market to buy that lumber (beautiful, red hardwood), then moved to a nearby workshop where it was planed and cut to size. The actual construction happened at a carpenter shop next door to the Catholic church, where skilled workers put it together entirely with hand tools. Because several large holes were needed, the press then went to another shop where a powered drill press was available. The final product, sanded and varnished, looks as beautiful as a fine piece of furniture.

The completed press at Iringa Road Mennonite Church.

To see photos of that process, check out this link: http://picasaweb.google.com/jandrewand/PressConstruction#.

There's much yet to be done before there's a functioning fuel briquetting program at Iringa Road Mennonite Church. The next step is training by a skilled African who will not only demonstrate the use of the press but also the gathering and preparation of waste materials to be pressed into briquettes, then dried in the sun and burned in place of wood or charcoal, the most common cooking fuels. The need for this new fuel source seems clear. The destruction of trees for cooking fuel is a perplexing environmental problem. Fuel briquettes seem to be a wise and inexpensive replacement. I'll continue to work with my friends in Dodoma to help the process along.

Annette's Quilters

Once again, Annette used her quilting skills to prompt African women to be creative in new ways. Parked on a porch of Iringa Road Mennonite Church with their sewing machines, they stitched away day after day, Annette happily in their midst. Pictures tells the story best. Here are several:

Annette is wrapped a lovely African cloth, the gift of her sewing friends.

Back in Portland

After about 24 hours in the air (about 40 hours when layovers are included), we're back home in Portland. The trip went smoothly in every way, but we're just a little frazzled after the time change (Tanzania is 10 hours in advance of Portland time) and the long hours aloft. The vast weather change doesn't help. In Dar es Salaam, where we stayed two days before leaving, the temperature was a muggy 35 degrees C. As we descended to PDX last night, snow streamed past the landing lights. On the ground, it's just cold and wet.

I'll be adding new posts about the final days of our stay in Dodoma and Dar-es-Salaam. It will be great fun telling you about our new sponsor child, Charles, whom we met on Tuesday. You'll love the photos of him. I'll also add a story and photos of Annette at work with her quilting ladies.

Thanks much for your interest, prayers, and encouragement.

An A-maizing Project

Since coming to Dodoma, I had been hearing about sand dams but had no concept of what sand dams might be, except that they were a major water project of Iringa Road Mennonite Church. Last Wednesday, my questions were answered.

Pastor Amos drove us a few kilometers southwest from the Iringa Road into a rural area. After we crossed a bridge over a nearly-dry river bed, we turned onto a narrow road winding beside that river bed, and drove a kilometer or so before stopping beside a low concrete dam. Behind that dam was not a lake of water but sand, completely covering the rocky river bed like what we could see below the dam.

Pastor Amos Muhagachi explains the sand dam concept to Dan Holcomb,
both standing on the first of the two dams that have been built.

Pastor Amos led us to a pathway on that sand lake. We soon discovered that if we left that pathway, we would begin to sink into the sand. It was saturated with water. We soon noticed holes dug into the sand, each hole well filled with water. Then, we saw the reason for the holes. Two young men came down the riverbank to the hole, each carrying two large containers on a yoke over their shoulders. They filled each container from the hole they had dug, then carried the water back to the garden where they and several others were working. There were many rows of healthy tomato plants being watered, plant by plant. That explained what I had seen as we walked: the lush vegetation on each side of the river, mainly tall maize plants, many with very large ears. We walked further and soon saw another dam, the first that had been built, 200 meters above the previous one. Behind it was also a lake of sand.

This farmer has dug the pit from which he is collecting water for irrigation.

Another farmer had dug his pit just below that dam. He was talkative and willing to be interviewed for video, speaking rapidly in Swahili, of course, so I did not understand what he said. Later, Amos told us he had talked about how grateful he is for the sand dams that provide water for far better crops than before, when water was available only for short periods of time. The sand dams make it possible for him to raise a large crop of tomatoes to sell. Before, his garden was dry and useless much of the year.

The farmer pours water on flourishing tomato plants.

The science is simple. During storms of the short rainy season, abundant sand washes into the river bed from the land beside the river and from tributaries further back along the river's course. Instead of washing down the river, the sand is captured by the dams, becoming saturated with water at the same time. It is technology used in several other dry places around the world; Pastor Amos and others learned from a Kenyan sand dam installation. He explained that his original purpose had been to provide bore holes, but he quickly saw the advantage of sand dams in this situation, making use of run-off water instead of a well that would eventually lower the water table. The project is supported by Mennonite Central Committee, which provides a full-time worker to guide the local project (a delightful young man named Josh whose home is near Kalamazoo, Michigan).

It would appear that this is a project of many years. In fact, the first dam was completed just last September, entirely with volunteer labor, including people living near the river who will benefit from the water. The second was finished in October. Amos has a plan for several more dams, at 200-meter intervals, further down the river, thus extending the green abundance and bumper crops. The plan also includes raising the two dams already built to increase their capacity.

An abundant corn crop on the riverbank.

We moved on from that informative and hopeful scene to a different kind of planting. Near that river, a new church is just getting going. We joined in a worship service that Wednesday afternoon, twenty or so people mostly women and girls from the surrounding rural area gathered in a roofless shelter open to the sky and also a wall missing and open to the scene of the river and the dams. (This is one of six congregations planted by Iringa Road Mennonite Church in the eight years of its own existence.) A small choir sang well, and the people's singing was joyful. Pastor Amos gave Dan Holcomb and me the opportunity for brief preaching to a very responsive congregation. Dan spoke of several biblical references to water, with obvious connection to the water now available to these very poor people. At the end of the service, people expressed obvious gratitude for our presence and for the new, living water that has come to their community.

Sunday Morning at Iringa Road Mennonite Church

I haven't usually tried to pass on sermons I preach, but because of the unique situation, I want to tell you about last Sunday's preaching experience at Iringa Road Mennonite Church in Dodoma, hoping I can pass on some of the richness.

Preaching with an interpreter means sharing the pulpit with another person on whom one is almost wholly dependent. Pastor Amos Muhagachi played that role for me. He not only communicated words in Swahili but fully united with me in mood and intensity and added much to whatever persuasiveness my preaching had.

Here's pretty much what I said with the help of Pastor Amos:

In 2006, I was given the privilege to preach in a high-density residential area of Harare, Zimbabwe. We were with a new church, a few months old. It had begun under a tree but recently moved into a community hall. About 50 children of all ages were on the floor just to my left. They were amazingly attentive.

After my preaching, I sat down in a chair beside those children, I soon felt the hand of one of them in my hand, and quickly there were several reaching out for my hands. Two small children crawled into my lap. I was amazed by the intimacy of those children, especially the two on my lap: their warm bodies, soft skin, and beautiful eyes that told me so much of trust and acceptance. It was a moment of sheer grace! I deserved none of it. It was a wondrous gift of sheer grace.

Late last December, my good friend, Pastor Abiot Moyo, with whom we had made that trip to Harare from Massachusetts, sent an e-mail to me about the trip he had just made back to Harare. He wrote about the great suffering of the people, and about the spread of cholera that is making thousands sick and killing many, especially children. What came sharply into my mind, like a stab in my heart, was the memory of those children. I imagined those beautiful kids, now maybe five years old, suffering the horrors of cholera, maybe dead.

That picture of suffering came into my mind as I read the words of Mark's Gospel which we have heard today (Mark 1:29-39), particularly the scene of Jesus, as the sun goes down on a Sabbath day, moving among the crowd that had gathered on the street, many of them sick. We can be sure these were poor people. Thirty kilometers away was Tiberius, a great city, where the rich and powerful lived, and surely had the best medical care of that time. These people around Jesus would never get that care. It is so moving to picture Jesus as he reached out to touch and heal those needy people. I wish I were an artist; it would be a lovely picture to paint.

It is so easy for me to think of Jesus being among those little kids in Harare, loving them, caring for them, healing them. I know for sure Jesus' great concern for all who suffer, and I know that Jesus shows us the heart of God as a God who loves and cares, especially for those who are the most vulnerable.

Yet, although I can imagine that easily, still those children are suffering and dying of cholera and other diseases that in richer places would be quickly healed. It's right there that I remember healing is a big part of the work Jesus gives to his disciples, his church, his body in the world. Healing is our task, given to us by Jesus himself.

I could tell you this morning about many heroes of the Christian faith who have been healing heroes, but I will tell of one only. In 1988, a college student began to attend the church in Massachusetts where I was the pastor. That student was Alynne MacLean, and she became a good friend of Annette and me. After college, she went on to university, earned a Doctor of Philosophy, a PhD degree, in chemistry, and then took a job with a large corporation at a high salary. All during that time, Alynne knew that her real calling was to mission, and after a few years, she resigned her position at that big corporation and began a small non-profit organization called Science with a Mission. She set up a small laboratory and there she used her great knowledge and skill to work toward the goal of creating a simple device to detect malaria, one of the greatest killers of children around the world. She worked very hard, did her very best, and ran into many barriers that slowed her work, but she did not give up.

A few years later, she began to feel that something was not right in her own body. She was very tired and quite weak at times. She went to doctors, who told her she had MS, multiple sclerosis, an incurable disease, and that it was an aggressive form of the disease. They said, “Now you must take care of yourself.” Her family and friends said, “Now you must take care of yourself.” But Alynne said, “Now I must work much harder.” Indeed, she went back to work, spending as much time as her body would let her, and soon she had a test strip that would diagnose malaria quickly. Today those test strips are being used in many places around the world where there may be no laboratory, no skilled workers, no electricity. Soon, they will be in use right here in Dodoma, as we have brought 990 of them with us from Alynne MacLean.

Here in my hand is one of those test strips. Your finger would be pricked with this lancet. You'll jump a little at the slight pain, but the drop of blood we need will be there. We'll put that drop of blood in this spot on the test strip, and in 20 minutes the test will let us know whether you have malaria. If it says, “Yes, she has malaria,” you can immediately receive medicine that will make you well. Let me show you the tiny strip inside the plastic cover. Here it is, so tiny, but there's a miracle of science there, the work of many scientists, but this test strip, designed for healing malaria, is the work of Alynne MacLean. Aren't we all very happy for Alynne? Aren't we thankful to God that Alynne wanted to follow Jesus by being a healer? Aren't we glad that Alynne wanted to work even after she had a bad disease? [loud cheers from the congregation]. I'm glad to say that Alynne is alive and still working today. I wish you could meet her, but her health does not allow her to come to Africa. I can tell you that Alynne is praying for us right now, praying for these test strips, praying that many lives will be saved here in Dodoma.

Now, there's a question I want to ask you? Would you like to be a healer like Alynne? Would you like to give your life to helping people be well and whole? I'm thinking about you who are students. Are you willing to work very hard at your school work, go on to A-level and university, learn how to be a scientist or another worker with great knowledge and skill to help raise up God's needy people? That's what I ask you today, because you see, Jesus is depending on us, you and me, to be healers, to do his healing work. He sent out disciples and gave them the task of healing. Now it is our task. Are you willing to do that task, one way or another, to be God's servant to heal God's people?

God bless these test strips! God bless Alynne MacLean and all healers! God bless us all!

So, the sermon ended. Although the people listened, I had no idea how these words and thoughts might have been heard, but the answer came quickly. When Pastor Amos gave an invitation to come forward to make a commitment, dozens rose and came to stand before us, until the front of the room was crowded. Pastor Amos asked me to pray for those people, but he surprised me when he said, “First, we pray for the health of that good lady who sent the test strips.” He then prayed for Alynne's healing in words I did not understand, but the passion and unity of feeling was plain. After that powerful moment, I struggled to find words for my prayer. I do not remember what I said. I do remember that I closed with words that mean so much to me when I sing them Sunday after Sunday at worship, “Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world, have mercy on us! Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world, have mercy on us! Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world, grant us peace!”

Later, Pastor Amos said that people had told him of decisions they had made. Last night, a high school student told me of his desire to be a doctor who helps children, strengthened, he told me, by Sunday's sermon. I found out later that he is the top student in his class. I know there will be huge barriers in the way of his purpose, as is true of many hopeful African young people. I have decided that one way I can walk the talk of that sermon is to be as sure as I can be that Baraka will have the support he needs to fulfill his desire to be the healer he knows God is calling him to be.

At Home in Dodoma

I was unprepared for the powerful emotions I felt as we walked out the door of the airport in Dar-es-Salaam late Friday, to realize I was again in Africa. We had been away long enough, I guess--two-and-a-half years--for the powerful tug of Africa to have given up somewhat. The thrill came back with amazing force once more to have set foot in this rich and rewarding setting of friendship and discovery. I am grateful in the extreme!

Glitz and glamor at Dubai's airport

Every piece of luggage alive and well in Dar-es-Salaam

Our trip went well, not a hitch in all five legs of the trip, four by air, the fifth by bus from Dar-es-Salaam yesterday (Saturday). That fifth leg was, I guess, the most difficult, a six-hour ride west to Dodoma. The bus was luxurious by the standards of what most Africans ride but without air-conditioning on a sunny day with temperatures probably near 90 degrees. Air rushed in through open windows to make the trip bearable, as did the passing scene outside the windows, a refresher on rural Africa, with beautiful scenery added. Several new friends greeted us at the Dodoma bus terminal and then took us and all of our luggage to the Missionary Aviation Fellowship lodge, where we spent the night. "All of our luggage" means every piece we had started out with: nine large trunks, suitcases, and duffel bags chock full of things to be shared with our Dodoma friends, including 990 malaria test strips. All of that had been checked through and had been, like us, on four different planes; we had carried on our personal luggage, cameras, laptops, etc.

Last night, after we had settled in at the lodge, we walked a kilometer or so, with Dan's guidance, to the home of Esther and Amos Muhagachi for dinner. Amos is pastor of Iringa Road Mennonite Church. He picked us up at a little after 9:00 a.m. this morning to take us several kilometers to his church for worship. When we came to the church, the choirs and congregation were already singing. We walked into a crowded church, with many, many children. The music continued with several choirs and much enthusiasm. During the service, we presented two banners that were a gift from Vibrant Covenant Church, with many pictures of Vibrant members. Sadly, Annette, who had spent hours and hours sewing and quilting the banners, was not present. Not feeling well, she opted out this morning. I had the privilege to preach the sermon, like all of my Africa preaching experiences, a joyful time for me.

While the Grace and Healing Choir (kids sponsored by Lahash) sings,
worshipers bring offerings forward.
Esther Muhagachi is the lady in colorful clothing at bottom right.

Lunch at church followed, with superb African food (ever taste a banana fresh off the tree?) and we brought a plate home to Annette, who was up and looking well.

Thus has begun, busily, these two weeks of relating to good friends and the work they do with orphans and other vulnerable people in and around Dodoma.