home again, home again jiggity jig

My body hasn't quite adjusted; I couldn't sleep after 4:45am, but willed myself to stay in bed until 5:30. But I'm home again. 30+ hours on a plane/layovers felt interminable this time. I had a joyous reunion with family and am now preparing to celebrate Thanksgiving. I always have much to be thankful for, but this year feels especially poignant to me.

I am thankful for family who let me go to Congo.
I am thankful for friends who support me in the process.
I am thankful for prayers.
I am thankful for a God who loves all of us.

(Oh, there's so much more. But you get the idea.)
Thank you for sharing this experience with me.




I'll probably sign off for a while once I get some pictures up, but will post if I have more information on the non-profit we're starting. Thanks again for being part of the journey.

Kaziba

I'm nearing the end of tales from Congo, but can't imagine a better one than this. I went to the Kaziba orphanage on Saturday. It was a long, quite bumpy three and a half hours to get there. (Yes, I said five hours in an earlier post; it wasn't until we were leaving that I realized I had that number wrong.) We traveled out of Bukavu proper, through Essence (which reminded me a lot of the shantytowns I've seen in Mexico--poorly made structures nearly on top of each other, people everywhere selling any item you might imagine, cars and trucks and motorcycles jockeying for a position on the road. I wish I had a picture to share, but Congolese people don't like to have their picture taken without being asked and it just wasn't appropriate at the time. Not long after Essence, however, everything changes. Suddenly you're away from the chaos of urban life and into the country. You might see huts, varying in shape depending on the tribe which built them. Green hills/mountains punctuate the skyline. And people are far more spread out and you can see them carry water or wood or lots of other things on their head. It fits more of the stereotypical "Africa" of National Geographic.

And then, and then, there's the orphanage. From the moment I arrived, I saw people excited to see us. The term "muzungu" (which I think means white person, but might mean foreigner) isn't used. "Le blanc" is. It might not matter, but since "muzungu" had taken on slightly negative connotation for me, it was a relief to be called something else which clearly had no negative associations for the kids or the staff there. I walked in and saw happy kids who looked healthy. There was laughter. We were welcomed kindly. The mamas were so excited by the formula and bumbo chairs; not an hour later the latter were all in use. I got to train the women and the director on heel cord stretching. Ironically, because there are now more women to care for the kids they are now out of bed a lot more and I was hard-pressed to find a child that actually needed their heel cords stretched. I finally found one, but decided that this was a good "problem" to have. But the best part of the day was playing with the kids. They just want to be loved and held. It didn't matter that we couldn't communicate verbally; their body language was quite clear. As an aside, it reminded me of when I went to Mexico in high school to do Vacation Bible School with my church. Being surrounded by kids and spending time with them changed me then, as it did now.

The kids looked well, which is a huge change from a few months ago. When my friend Holly began going in February the children were extremely malnourished. She has raised money to help buy formula and milk powder for the orphanage and it has literally changed their lives. I am so honored that I got to see the kids and to hold them. I'm equally honored to have brought the gifts (formula and bumbo seats) many of you sent with me. Thank you for partnering with me; I can, without doubt or hesitation, say that you are making a huge difference in their lives.

There is a hope to start a 501c3 which will focus on helping kids in eastern Congo, including these. Let me know if you might be interested in being involved.

Although the drive was exhausting (and I started each time we saw a soldier with a gun), I am so glad I traveled to Kaziba. It made me realize that you can make a difference and that, the world around, kids want to be loved. It was a great day.

faces

I went back to the disabled adults' group on Friday. It was similar to Wednesday in many ways. There was the woman who was so appreciative of the exercises I gave her, and there was the man who left saying "But I'm poor.". That simple phrase caused me to burst into tears (after he left). All in all, I feel like sending polio vaccines and an orthopedic surgeon (specifically to correct club feet) is the best option for future generations of Congolese; an ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure, no? My time with the group left me saddened on a variety of levels.

But there are a few faces that haunt me. One is L., who, I think, had polio as a child. To note, when I was listening to people's stories I heard countless times "I was born well, but then...[usually around age two]...I got a high fever and then was paralyzed." Most people I spoke with never got a diagnosis, but given their presentation my best guess is polio. L. walks on his hands as his legs never regained any strength. His upper body is incredibly, incredibly strong. I watched him "walk" in and then reach up to the chair and pull himself onto it without hesitation or wobbling. He told me how he mends shoes to try to make a living, is married with multiple (I think 5 or 8, but I can't remember) kids. But what continues to reverberate in my heart is that he walks ten kilometers (~6 miles) on his hands to get to this disabled adults' group. That's a long time by foot, let alone by hand. Many/most? roads in Congo are dirt. This is the rainy season. So he may fairly regularly walk about twelve miles on his hands in the mud.

I may not be able to help most of the people I saw, but when someone is on my heart like L., I must act. I'm hoping to buy him a hand bike, which will allow him to be off the ground and closer to most people's height. I'm still trying to figure out the cost of the bike and how to get it to him, but those feel like small logistics. I can only pray that the bike will allow him to feel more of the dignity he deserves.



(I have a picture of L. I'll post once I get pictures uploaded.)

anticipation

I spoke with the pastor in charge of the disabled adults' group Saturday. He would prefer that I see people individually, which I had sort of come to myself. I want to know what someone's goal is, not what I think it might be. Here's the catch: he thinks 100-ish people will come. I said I'd come two days. That works out to two ten-hour days without breaks of any kind and 12 minutes per person. Let me put this in perspective: I see people I'm going to see again for 45 minutes the first time. I'm likely never going to see these people again and I have an interpreter (which makes this possible, but does add onto time spent). Add to this that I'm still a bit unclear about cultural expectations and how to keep things succinct without being rude here and you might understand why I'm a bit uneasy about the whole thing. I don't doubt that it's something I want to do, merely that it feels daunting. I've already given up seeing all 100 people; it just won't happen. But I hope and pray that the people I do see I can help on some level.

I'm not sure when this will happen; I'm trying not to do both days back-to-back, as that feels exhausting, both physically and mentally. But we haven't heard which days he'd prefer, so I'm still waiting for that piece of information.

The sweetest/funniest moment talking to the pastor was this: He turned to the interpreter and said, "I'm excited to have her come, but I'm a bit worried about her heart." [I had cried when I was talking about a girl with club feet, a problem that is "always" corrected in the USA and affects so much of her mobility, not to mention how she is perceived in society.] I told him I'd bring Kleenex.

day 1 in congo

It feels like I've been in Congo much longer than ten hours. I've spent the afternoon catching up with Holly, Mike and her family, and meeting the two wonderful girls they are in the process of adopting. Aside from not being able to open one piece of luggage due to a zipper breaking, it has been a very smooth day.

I looked through a photo album tonight. What photo album, you ask? One that the leader of the disabled group brought for me to peruse. I am so humbled by what I do not know. I examine these pictures and many times I think "I don't know what to do. I don't know how to help.". I'm not even sure how some of these deformations of their limbs came to be (e.g. the foot doubled over and walking on what was the top of their foot.) And I'm positive that some of these limbs have been in these positions for years, so even if I could have done something at the beginning, I'll be hard-pressed to make a big change now. There are a fair number of children in this "adult" group as well.

I have a feeling I'll be dreaming about this group tonight. I meet with the leader/pastor tomorrow and hope that he can shed a bit more light on some of these people's histories. Maybe that will give me a bit more insight. I wish I had the power to heal these people. But I'll give what I have.

I MADE IT!!!!

For those of you waiting with baited breath, I just wanted to let you know that I made it to Congo as of about an hour ago. Thanks be to God. All in all, things went really smoothly. Little hiccups (like I almost missed my flight from Newark to Brussels and I never got to mail my letters to my kids) are really non-issues in the grand scheme of things. People met me at airports soI haven't had to use my pitiful French once.

I could tell I traveled alone: I saw two movies, two television shows, and read over 100 pages of a book. And it sounds like my family is doing just fine without me.

I haven't had a chance to open my luggage, but 100+ pounds of formula/bumbo seats made it on and off airplanes, thanks to your generosity. How grateful I am to each of you for your support. As I told someone recently, I strongly feel that we are doing this together; I'm just the one who happens to physically be here. Thank you again for being part of this!

no time like the present....

I have to sleep, as I'll be up in a few short hours. But for those of you that pray, here are specific prayer requests. For those of you that don't, I'd appreciate any good thoughts you think of.

Hi all,
The countdown is almost done! I leave for Congo Wednesday morning, bright and early (8:45am out of SFO; I'm leaving the house at about 6am). There's one way to start adjusting to a different time zone!

Thank you all for your support and desire to pray while I'm gone. I initially had grand plans about having people sign up for a day to pray, but since that didn't pan out, pray as you feel led. Here are some specific prayer requests:
*Nov 10-11: Pray for safety in travel and that I will find the person picking me up from the airport. (My friend's passport will not arrive in time for her to meet me in Kigali.)
*Nov 12: Pray that I will reach Holly safely and that my sleep patterns would adjust to Congolese time (10 hours ahead of Berkeley).
*Nov 13-19: Pray that our discussions re: planning for a 501c3 and sponsorship program for the orphanage will be productive.
Pray that my time with the disabled adult group would be fruitful--I'm feeling overwhelmed by the sheer number of people who attend this group (hundreds). Pray that God would bring people forward that I could teach and that would be willing and able to pass that information to others.
Pray for a refreshing time with Holly and her family; she is worn out and needs encouragement.
Pray for ongoing health for all involved.
*Nov 20: Pray for safety for our time today at the orphanage in Kaziba (a 5 hour drive each way). Pray for effective communication with the women who work with the kids.
*Nov 21: Pray for my family: it is Ruth's birthday and my 6th anniversary today. Pray that they will all be thriving with my mom.
*Nov 22-23: Pray for a safe trip back to Rwanda and a safe (and not delayed!) trip home.

I'll update as soon as I can, most likely once I reach Congo and am in Bukavu on 11/12.
Thanks for all your support!
Coleen