Another Christmas Weekend Story

December 30, 2008

Dear St. John and St. Anne:

I love the fact that I don't have to write Catholic and Lutheran Churches...we truly are the priesthood of all believers....just had to celebrate that fact once again. I smile every time at look at that salutation and realize what a beauty it is that we are united in ministry and united in God's Love for the good of GOD'S HOLY CHURCH.

I have waited some time to post this story as I wanted to ponder carefully how to say what has been so troubling me on many fronts. This is really a journalling entry, a closer glimpse into some of how journalling has helped me in my days here and in my understanding of my ministry here. Now, onto my story...

The weekend after Christmas, Bahati’s sister, Marie Jeanne, and I traveled together to the village of Rubare to spend the weekend with her parents and Rosette so that we could all celebrate some Christmas time together!!!!

Now, the heart of this story…a short story, but a lifetime of pain in the story. A rather tall man, a very tall man, came to the bus stop to join us on the trip from Goma to Kiwanja. This man made some plans with the bus assistant and requested to sit in front as he is so tall it is very difficult for him to sit in the back seats. So it was that we sat next to each other on the trip and had much time to visit. As I told my story he came to hear that I was a nurse and of the work we are about in the Parish of Rugari. He was very attentive and interested in all; expressing his appreciation for the work we are doing. Upon hearing that I am a nurse and bringing medicine with me he asked me if I had medicine for the heart and sadly I reported to him I had no such medicine with me. I felt bad that I would be unable to help him and immediately started wondering what heart condition or medical problems he might have that were the reason for his request, but I kept my thoughts to myself as I tried to evaluate how I might be of help to him. I started to ask him about his story and his family…then understanding began to take shape.

He told me that both his mother and his father had been killed in Rutshuru. He described how his mother was shot and killed in 1999 and then his father the same in 2006. Then I realized perhaps his need for medicine for the heart and asked him if this was the reason he had asked about medicine for the heart and he said yes, this is the cure he is seeking. Then I had to ask him who had performed such atrocity as he described…in a very quiet voice he said it was FDLR.

This is the reality of Eastern DRC. A person whose parents have been murdered cannot openly and sadly say what has happened because there are so many around who will remember and who will mark him…perhaps as a target of their hatred. He was a man heavily burdened in sadness at the loss of his mother and his father. He is a student of law at the University of Goma, close in age to Marie Jeanne, with one year yet to finish. The appearance of this man’s sadness will take some time to ease from my memory.

Another story that weekend was hearing of how some few years ago another man’s wife was pulled from his house while he could do nothing. He begged for them to take him and leave his wife, to take his belongings, to take everything he owned, but to leave his wife. They said they didn’t want any of his things, they didn’t want him…they only came to take his wife and so they did. She was found dead some days later in the farmland, body rotting, and parts of her body dismembered. This is the work of FDLR in the Eastern DRC that has been going on since 1994. It is the work that so traumatizes people; they carry the sadness so deep in their hearts and bodies that you can see it in their face. The eyes tell of great sadness.

These are the people who cannot so easily forget the murder and mayhem, they cannot forget the refugees who wait in camps on the border of Rwanda to return to their homeland of DRC, who wait and dream of the day they are free of fear, free of FDLR and free to return to their homes.

Then on Sunday night while Rosette, Marie Jeanne, and I visited with Mama Bea in Rubare another thief came out from the woods. He arrived on the street of Rubare to steal what he could from one of the businessmen on the street. The person was then shot in the stomach…the perpetrator was a MAI MAI, as reported by one villager, but another villager says it was CNDP…. Whoever these perpetrators are, these are the crimes that must stop.

I like to ask people what it was like here before the FDLR, BEFORE THE RWANDAN GENOCIDE and the influx of Rwandan refugees running into DRC…the influx which included not just innocent refugees, but included many of the offenders of the genocide.

The answer I always hear is, before that time there was peace here, people got on with one another in harmony; work, school, village…they had peace. Of course there are so many factors at play in the history of this nation that affect what is happening. One person from South Kivu Province describes one of those factors to me this way, “We had been kept in the dark and kept down by MOBUTO to the extent that fourteen years ago, we did not know what a cell phone was, we did not know the wealth of our land in minerals….WE DID NOT KNOW ANYTHING THAT COULD HELP US TO LIVE BETTER LIVES… MOBUTO kept it that way so he could take care of his own and live off the backs of the people.” Now more and more people know, but still, the lack of knowledge, the lack of education, the tragic ignorance, the suppurating hatred that has been instilled in some, and the resulting mistrust of most all is keeping the people down. Without a government that truly knows how to lead and govern I don’t know HOW MANY MORE YEARS it will be before they can really claim this is a true democracy?

In the two years since a ‘free and democratic’ election of their current president, more than 500 HUNDRED PEOPLE FROM POLITICAL OPPOSITION STANCES HAVE BEEN KILLED BY THE CURRENT GOVERNMENT!!!! If that is freedom and democracy, take me back to school…I must have missed something. When people are daily paying bribes to city police, government soldiers, government officials, highway police and more…I don’t see freedom and democracy in action…when people hide in the dark in their homes at night because they are afraid of the soldiers and bandits who come to steal and often kill in the night...I don’t see freedom and democracy in action. When children run the streets instead of going to school…I don’t see freedom and democracy…when children are forced to work instead of going to school because they don’t have the money for education…I don’t see freedom and democracy…when government officials live in palatial homes and own 5-6 such homes throughout the land and drive not 1 but 3-4 very expensive cars such as HUMMERS…all the while claiming the government does not have enough money to pay the teachers of their land even one cent in wages…I DON’T SEE FREEDOM AND DEMOCRACY!!! I see corruption, I see lack of vision, and I see lack of understanding and commitment to the true ideals of freedom and democracy that so established and grew the UNITED STATES OF AMERICA.

We are so blessed in our land, truly blessed…perfect, NO…but truly privileged. I contrast that with the lives of those here who have literally nothing every time they are put to flight by FDLR, PARECHO, MAI MAI, FARDC, or CNDP, they have no freedom, they have no assurance of education for their children, they have only the clothes on their backs and the few belongings they may have been able to take with them. Then they return to homes that have been looted and/or destroyed. They must start life over again and often times because of the sins of the very same soldiers who are charged with protecting them.

This is the strange and troubling question that has bothered me now for months, why do the government soldiers have such a penchant for destroying the very infrastructure they are supposed to be protecting??? When fleeing in front of the advance of CNDP, why is it that FARDC soldiers are the ones who destroy the homes, the shops, the schools, and the hospitals of their very own people…are they trying to force the people to run… what kind of purpose are they serving when they are the ones who perpetrate the rapes, the looting, and the destruction of their very own homeland, their very own people???? The stories that came out of the recent fighting in the past months were horrifying and the worst of them were perpetrated by FARDC.

Yet we go on, NGO’s doing their job, churches doing their job, serving the people, and the IDP’s and refugees keep dealing with the cards they are dealt, all the while all of us are hoping and praying for the day when real freedom, real justice, REAL SOLDIERS, REAL GOVERNMENT can take care of this land and its people. They wait for the time that DRC is a viable and settled democracy, they wait for a government and an army that truly know how to do the best for their people rather than building their million dollar mansions, they wait for the time when people don’t have a penchant for killing as a way to settle differences, they wait for the time when soldiers, factions, and politicians can agree to disagree, can work together to solve differences, and still focus on the best for the greater good of the people. FREEDOM…DEMOCRACY…

January 2, 2040 hours, 2009
….gunshots out in the street near my room… FREEDOM…DEMOCRACY ...hummmmppphhhh ANARCHY reigns here in DRC!!!!

Then why am I here and how do I keep from being consumed by the disappointment, the tragedy, the failure of humanity….?

By the hearts of so many who are so filled with desire for the good of their land, with the desire of God’s kingdom come on earth as it is in heaven.
By the kindness, the laughter, the love, and the goodness of so many people here in this fantastically grand and beautiful land.
And most of all, by the call of Christ our Savior who asks this of us, "...to go to all lands (into all the world) proclaiming the Good News to all creation!!!!"

NRS Mark 16:15 And he said to them, "Go into all the world and proclaim the good news to the whole creation.
NAB Mark 16:15 He said to them, "Go into the whole world and proclaim the gospel to every creature.
NJB Mark 16:15 And he said to them, 'Go out to the whole world; proclaim the gospel to all creation.

Now I remember why I am here and how not to become discouraged...GOOD NEWS!!!

Celebrating Christmas in RUBARE

One of the first things that grasped my attention at the Mass in Rubare the weekend after Christmas was the presence of this fantastic artwork in the paintings of the "Stations of the Cross." In Catholic churches here I am amazed at the beautiful artwork in many of the "Stations of the Cross." This one I have titled, "DOWN FROM THE CROSS." Notice the helping hands...helping hands.

Ironically this photo is an EASTER remembrance, but I was in RUBARE to celebrate some Christmas Holiday with Bahati's family. Rosette had returned home the week before Christmas, but Marie Jeanne had classes on through Christmas and she remained behind in GOMA.

And of course I also remained behind in GOMA, unable to return home to the States for Christmas. Marie Jeanne and I decided to travel home to RUBARE for the weekend to share some fun, laughter, good food, and HOLIDAY TIME with family.

We were so excited to have time to spend together and to just relax without having to rush away for work. TWO DAYS OF JUST BEING WITH FAMILY AND RELAXING...
...IT WAS HEAVENLY!!!!

TITO brought out the dried ears of corn and starting preparing a place to work...and I could not help but to join in!!! Oh the joy of joining hands together, voices in conversation, neighbors coming to join and visit and move on...it was an afternoon of blissful work, unhurried, uncomplicated...relaxing.

Ray, Loretta, Lester, Rita, Deanna, Gene and all you corn and soy bean farmers out there in Royal, ILLINOIS... hope this brings a smile of nostalgia to your hearts!!! These are also two big crops grown here in Eastern DRC...corn and soy beans, which are then both ground into flour and used for cooking of UGALI and UJI, which are staples of the diet here.

We spent the afternoon breaking the dried kernels from the ear. My thumbs were sore by the end of the day...I am getting soft in my old age!!!

The kernels will be dried some more in the sun and finally run through a frinding mill powered by a gas powered motor, to grind it into corn meal. This corn meal is then cooked with water to make a very firm mash which is served in a large round ball shape on a large dinner plate. This corn meal is so firm you can pull pieces of it away with your fingers and dip it into meat and vegetable stew to eat. It is called UGALI, a very bland, starchy food and you count on a very flavorfull stew to give it a good taste.

While we were working TITO had the great idea of getting a picture of all of us working together...and of a photo showing just our hands as we worked.

So guess who was sitting on the other side of the porch doing her work as well...it was ROSETTE who took the photos of us at work. And she did such a fantastic job with these photos...I see she has talent already. I immediately thought she should take up photography as her future work...who knows...

So this blog is becoming a blog about helping hands, hands have such meaning; how we speak, how we work, how we embrace those we love, and how we welcome the children as Jesus instructs us in this Sundays Gospel.


Helping Hands....

Baba Bea, Mama Bea, and I couldn't pass up our opportunity to capture our holiday on digital media as well...helping hands.

To the right are Eme, Rosette, and Baba Bea.

Eme is the nephew of Bahati, Marie Jeanne, & Rosette; he is the the first born son of Bea, Bahati's sister, the oldest child of Mama Bea & Baba Bea. It is the custom to call the parents by the name of their first child, hence my name is Mama Joshua!!!

This was a photo after Mass back at the house when Bahati's Aunt and Uncle stopped by for a visit. Notice the hands, so meaningfully Bahati's Uncle reached out his hands, to grasp my hand for this photo...Helping Hands...

The youth were disappointed that I went to Mass with Mama Bea instead of with them...guess I will return for another Sunday so I can partake in the youth Mass, which of course they say is much better than the first Mass for the elders!!!! I love the youth and find it so exciting to see them building their faith and participating so fully!!!

These photos show Rosette, Tito, Marie Jeanne, Eme and another I cannot name as they were preparing to leave for the midday youth Mass.

At one point during the weekend I was sitting on the back porch helping Mama Bea prepare some food. As we sat in the evening light, a neighbor child sat next to her house crying and crying. Not a soul in sight...then all of a sudden a woman came out of the house and picking up a strap started hitting the child, who then REALLY started crying all over again. Mama Bea called out to the woman to stop beating the child and she stopped, returning to her house. After some minutes I asked Mama Bea if she had ever beat her children in such a way...she said she never had it in her, for her heart was always with the sorrows of the child. This is the woman I have observed cleaning and caring for her grandchildren with the most loving hands, the woman who so gently instructs me and guides me in the ways of cooking at her house...above is the lovely face of Mama Bea.

Our weekend ended and we returned on Monday morning to return to work and to school and to our lives in Goma...oh how I miss the life of Rubare.

Then on New Year's Day in Goma I received three most delightful guests to my room. Marie Jeanne, Aline (a younger sister of Eme), and Innocent, a youth who Baba Bea has asked to come and help out with pushing the wheelchair for Rosette as she goes to and from school.

These three helped me to start the New Year with joy and celebration. We visited, laughed, drank much tea, ate fruit and bread, read the internet, and spent the whole afternoon in joy. Thank God for such a blessing.

One last look at some of the beautiful artwork in the Roman Catholic Church at RUBARE VILLAGE,

NORTH KIVU PROVINCE,

DEMOCRATIC REPUBLIC OF CONGO...

...another world away from USA, but filled with the kind of helping hands we all know and love.

Peace,

Jackie

LISTENING, MEDITATING, & AGREEING

Listening, Meditating, and Agreeing

(Luke 1:26-38)

The last Sunday before Christmas

we heard a Gospel message

that invites us into imitation of the behavior of Mary.

She is disturbed by the words she hears,

this is not her plan…

...what could have happened to so change her world?

What is Mary’s response

to being disturbed, to being deeply troubled?

She ponders the words that have so disturbed her,

the words that are so troubling…

...she meditates on the Word.

She realizes in her meditation

that this disturbance, this troubling greeting

is of God, that it is Holy,

and she responds by agreeing...

...to let God’s Will be done to her as God would have it.

She agrees…she agrees…

She simply agrees

to receive that overpowering presence of the Holy Spirit

that would forever change every plan

that had previously been made for her life.

This is the imitation we are invited into…

...to be disturbed by the Word of God,

...to meditate on the Word of God,

and to agree to be overpowered and over shadowed;

to give our whole bodies,

our whole lives

to that disturbing,

transforming presence within us…

…EMMANUEL
…GOD WITH US!

ADVENT NEWS - REBIRTH

December 4, 2008

Dearest Members of St. John and St. Anne,

You are my brothers and sisters in Christ I can claim nothing less. God bless you all for what you doing in Christ’s name here in Rugari Parish. As I get emails from some of you or talk with some of you via SKYPE I thank God for the blessings of technology as the loneliness sometimes can be overwhelming, but then I get contact from home and feel rejuvenated once again.





Today I will share a bit of my experiences in the past two weeks, some difficult, some very happy. Let me start with two weeks ago when I was driving past a local police office. On one side of the road is a furniture shop where craftsmen make furniture and I was actually slowing and looking for one craftsman in particular who is building some small office tables for CRS, which is the American Catholic relief agency working here with CARITAS Goma. I have been helping to get this work done and wanted to check in how things were going, but instead, my attention came to rest across the road at the Commune de Goma Office. I saw 3 women arguing vehemently with some of the police officers. Mind you, these officers are carrying AK47’s and these brave women were just brandishing their umbrellas and pointing them at the guns and shouting. About what they were saying I could not know, but they were terribly upset. As this shouting match escalated I pulled off the side of the road just to see what was happening. As I sat watching this argument escalate they began pushing and shoving. A local businessman came to my car and apologized for what happens here in Congo. He felt badly that I was witnessing such a debacle in his country. We visited about the sad condition of things here as we continued watching to see what was going to happen. Then we saw women being grabbed, then fighting broke out with the women eventually being thrown to the ground and then I saw one soldier kicking one of the women and they then pulled the women, dragging them across the ground into their offices and I just sat there stunned and did nothing. I started to get out of the car, but then what would I do, what could I do. I would leave my car unattended, very dangerous thing to do here, and then what if I made a scene, what would that do to my position here in this country, would I be able to continue here or would they throw me out. My mind was racing with so many questions going through my mind. The man sharing this horror with me said he did not know if I could do anything or not, but he shared my horror and discontent for what we saw transpiring but he also did not interfere. We are stuck here in DRC between a rock and hard place. We hate so much of what we see and hear, but often feel powerless to do anything to stop it. This powerlessness sometimes can be so hard to deal with, especially for a woman from the States who has been able to live a life of so much ability to do, to decide, and to be proactive; then to live here and be in this situation of not being free, not being free to stay where you want because of fear of the soldiers who rob and kill at night, not being free to take the photos you want, not being free to be out in the evening after dark, not being free to say what you want, and so much more. It is an experience let me tell you.

That brings me to reports last week of three nights of robberies and some killings in Goma again. Hardly a week passes without some such events happening and most often it is reported that they are people who are wearing soldier uniforms. Also last week we got some security reports about some FARDC soldiers entering into KIBATI IDP Camp and raping some of the women. Then just this past weekend we heard that FARDC soldiers opened fire in the camp during the night and I heard that one of our Rugari youth was shot in the stomach and another was shot in the upper back. I don’t hold much hope for them, but have not heard if they have survived their wounds or not.

December 18, 2008

Now onto good news for this newsletter, I met an American freelance photojournalist who is here for a month on a grant to do a story on the rapes that occur as a result of the war. It turns out she is doing the story from our parish of Rugari on the 9 year old girl who was raped by the FARDC soldier. She has come with me three weekends to Rugari to finish her work. Her name is Sherrlyn Borkgren and her home is in Oregon. Sherrlyn’s work history has taken her from Guatemala to Iraq, but this is her first time to Africa. If her story gets published for sure I will let you know. She is planning to set up a fund to help this family so that the children can be assured of receiving an education!!!

Some exciting news is also about the wonderful renewal of life up on the mountain above the parish. I went for a hike up on the mountain this last Saturday, December 13th, and saw many farms that are coming back to life, land being tilled, homes being built, and cattle grazing.















It was so wonderful to hike in this mountain area I have only dreamed of seeing until now. For now we are safe to come and go all the area of the mountain behind our parish. This is a refreshing taste of freedom that I have not known here since I arrived.




















Now we are hearing of MAI MAI and FDLR who are massing in the area above KIWANJA on the roads towards ISHASHA and VITSHUMBI, we know all is not settled yet. The people yearn so for peace that will last, peace that will be real.























Other sad news this week is the news of two NGO staff attacked on the road to RUTSHURU, one was killed and the other injured by gunfire. It was a robbery by armed forces, but which forces we will probably never know. Of course those who are anti-CNDP say it was they and those who are anti-PARECHO say it was they or MAI MAI or FDLR. The area where it happened is an area of deep bush and park terrain/wilderness. It will be very difficult to ever know the murderers.

Things are not so safe and not so free as we could ask. There is the area in Nyiragongo National Park where we look out every evening to see the smoke rising from the charcoal cairns that are the work of FDLR who are still hiding deep in the park and making the black market charcoal as part of their work to stay alive. They come to the road with the black market charcoal and sell it to the systems they have set up through the local population.



We are enjoying so much wonderful peace and freedom and lack of oppression in Rugari and up on the mountain, but as we sit in the evening enjoying the air and the view, we are reminded by the smoke plumes of the charcoal cairns simmering in Nyiragongo Park that the conflict is still simmering here in Eastern DRC.

Now I close to pray for that rebirth and renewal of Peace, of Love, and of Hope that we receive each Christmas time. The annual renewal of what it means to believe in the Christ child, in the Father of all Love, and in the miraculous that is wraught by the Holy Spirit.
Love to you all in the Peace of Christ,
Jackie

WEDDINGS AT KIBUMBA VILLAGE

To tell you this story we have to go back in time one ago to November 15th. It was a planned trip to Kibumba Village for Saturday for the blessings of two couples who wished to married in the church. Then Abbe John Fidel had made arrangements with MONUC that we hoped to be able to arrive at the parish house and spend saturday night to be there early in the morning for Mass at Rugari. Then to my delight Abbe John Fidel informed me that Bishop Ngabu had asked him to return to the parish to live once again. He asked me if I was ready to do the same and I said I would. We are currently rebuilding life again at Rugari.

The above shows me with some of the children present at the church when we arrived. And you know how I love to greet children and of course you know how much children love having their photos taken. I couldn't miss this opportunity.









These lovely girls had dressed in the prettiest white with veils and pearls and pretty white hats to complement the brides who would be married this day. They were bashful but joyful in getting their pictures taken.








The youth sang and were part of the music for the day and they added so much to our celebration of the two marriages that day. They were a small but mighty force of great music that day.





I was impressed with the brides assistant who did not leave her side throughout the whole ceremony. Her hands on her shoulders as this bride spoke her wedding vows. This meaningful gesture was also imparted on each person in their turn as those who stood up with them supported them by laying hands on them.
















































For me it was interesting to note all the similarities that are part of the service that can so feed my soul, but also to celebrate the richness and meaning of other parts of the service I have never experienced before...









It was truly beautiful and it reminded me of the wonderfulness of being here in this time and this place...for times like this and so much more.







After Mass on Sunday at Rugari I got in the car and headed up the road to Rubare to visit with Bahati's family...it had been two months of intense fighting, running, living as internally displaced, and we all had lived stories we wish had never happened. I just had to visit and see how they were doing now that we were all returning to our homes.





On the way I saw one of the rare tourism sites I have had since my arrival way back in February.



This troupe of baboons was traveling down the road and didn't move too fast as we stopped in the road to see this fun sight.






This was as close as we got before they all disappeared into the forest. Notice the little baby hanging on underneath this mother baboon as she headed into the bush and was gone from view in seconds.






When I arrived at the home of Bahati's parents I inspected the bullet holes in the roof. Fortunately most is on one side of the house. The walls in front have only 4 spots where you can see bullets hit and fortunately the house is so solidly built that they just managed to nick out the cement by less than 1/2 inch. The tougher part is replacing the tin sheeting so the rain can be kept OUTSIDE WHERE IT IS NEEDED, instead of inside on the beds.

Family portraits are always so wonderful...but after living through war times together, there is poignancy close to unexplainable. We are so grateful for our lives and we are so saddended by those whose lives are lost.

Travel to Rugari for Sunday Masses

November 10, 2008

Dearest family and friends,
Peace and grace to you from God our Father. Those words are ringing in my head again. I have so much to tell I am at a loss as to where to begin. Many of you know well my sojourn and how events have come to pass that have placed such longing deep in my heart to continue this work that has lit such a fire in my heart…or would it be the love of Christ which has lit such a fire; in my mind they are one and same!

This past weekend I joined with people facing unbelievable hardship, gathering for Sunday worship…worship that has not stopped because of the war that encompasses their lives. Worship of God to whom they continue to give praise, to whom they continue to give all trust…for I hear over and over it will be only God who can deliver them from this war that has ruled life here in eastern Congo for the last 14 years. They sang with joy, but also their hearts know much mourning. This was a place where many people died in the past weeks. Now they are seeing a relative calm and the fight has traveled away from their area for the time being and they are grateful for this space to breath again some relative time of peace. Peace is so relative here, relativity reigns.

If you look on your maps the worship we attended was in Rumangabo, the location of the military base that has been taken by CNDP. After this worship and a class for those preparing to be parish workers, we were invited to eat a meal. It was so delicious. This meal included boiled potatoes, a vegetable called sombe, beans similar to kidney beans cooked with onions, and the most delicious thing I have tasted since my arrival…a dish of stewed champignon (mushrooms). It was so delicious I can see it and taste again just thinking about it. One kilogram of these mushrooms sells for $2 and we ate it all, this was a feast for sure. After our fabulous meal we thanked all who had received us and gave them encouragement for their days still to come, knowing this is not yet over and we cannot know what will come yet again to this area. We climbed back into the car and headed back down the road to visit the parish house of Rugari before returning to Goma.

At Rugari we checked in on the condition of things at the house and see some small things the local population are doing to get back to work at the parish. They are again working a bit on the grounds; flowers and grass are being tended. We visited the puppies who are growing and missing there formative months of training and so just want to jump and play and have very sharp teeth. Another pup has joined them smaller than the first two and so our family is growing and we are not even there to help them become good dogs…BAH HUMBUG. After our visit at the house we added one more to our number for the return to Goma; the charismatic evangelist of the church joined us so that he could visit his brother who is staying in Goma. This is the same man whose 9-year-old a FARDC soldier raped and with whom I have yet to follow up with because of the war that has consumed the village and our lives here. We had a car full of people and so I felt unable to have this conversation with him.

We were six people in the car and passed down the road without any problem, that is until we reached the barrier set up by FARDC. Many trucks were stopped and as is customary we continued past them to be allowed through the road block, but to my surprise the soldier stopped us and asked now for the Congolese in the car to show their identification…and then he asked the evangelist to get out of the car; instantly I knew it was because this man looks like a Tutsi. Seeing him called out of our car I felt the fear in my belly build….knowing this was a moment I could only sit through all the while my mind was screaming, “No, No!” Waiting and watching with every fiber of attention all the while trying to look not too concerned…not wanting to make a scene or start something that could escalate out of control all too fast. How many times have I said to people in the past few weeks, bullets don’t know friend or enemy…stay quiet, stay low…now I find myself trying to follow my own advice. The place is very public and there are people enough around and so we wait…NONCHALANTLY. Then we see him being set free and walking toward the car; he is coming, the look on his face one I will never forget…it is a look of relief, even a bit of a smile, but there is a fearful knowledge on his face, he can never be innocent again, innocent to believe all is good and well in the world. There is a shadow behind his eyes of one who knows what it is like to be a target because of the way he looks, because he resembles one who comes from the wrong tribe…this is one of the awful realities here in eastern Congo.

In these days of continued fighting I find myself telling people here of the civil war America suffered because of the color of peoples skins and the sins of slavery, I tell them of the civil rights movement and Martin Luther King Jr. and his I HAVE A DREAM SPEECH. Then I tell them of the importance of celebrating together in the election of OBAMA and I say, their civil war will also end…how and when…we wait… The suffering continues… inflicted on the citizens of eastern Congo by all parties to the conflict…another sad, sad reality to life here. Please hold these people in your prayers and we thank you all for the financial and spiritual support to the endeavors we are about here for the Parish of Rugari, North Kivu Province, Democratic Republic of Congo.

A bit of good news about our projects is that the funding for building of rainwater cisterns is coming in from St. John Lutheran and after discussions with an engineer also working out in our area we hope that perhaps in one month we can be able to start this building project for the dispensary of Rugari … if the calm continues. We hope and pray it will be so. And we will build with cement and stone so that bullets cannot ruin this cistern; it will stand the test of time and of war. We are also looking again to another NGO to give us more medicines for the dispensary as well, our stock is again very low…but the patients continue to come. I hope to visit there this Saturday when we go out once again to the parish…if the calm continues. So I conclude this story with the prayer ….DEAR LORD LET THE CALM CONTINUE.

Yours in the peace and love of Christ,
Jackie

COVETED POSSESSIONS

October 13, 2008

Dear Friends of Rugari Parish,
Today I want to write just a letter; a letter to describe the past few days here at Goma and Rugari Parish. During the week just past, I found myself with a car to drive and what an experience that has been. I actually feel bad driving around instead of walking; it makes me look rich when I am not and I miss the exercise which helps both my body and my mind. The one thing the car has afforded me is to go more places, more quickly but I am not sure that means I have accomplished a whole lot more. For sure it has saved me some money because the distances I have traveled would have been by motorcycle taxi and that would have cost me dollars and to drive this car has been free. In that sense I have been able to save my supporters at St. John’s some money….YAHOO!!!

Now let me tell you about going to the nice supermarket here in Goma, it is called Kivu Market. Kivu Market is a bit like going into a nice market in the States…a bit; the inner aisles are filled with canned or packaged foods and home care items; the perimeter with fresh meats, fruits, breads, cakes, etc. The items are not from the States but made to look very similar and you pay a GOOD PRICE for your choices (AVERY HIGH PRICE). But we can find some pretty good items we cannot find any other place; if we are really missing something from home we just might be able to find something very near to the same at Kivu Market. One of the big differences at Kivu Market is going from the car, into the market and returning.

Let me explain, as I stopped one day last week I got out of the car, went into the back seat to get my backpack and turning around as I shut the door was faced with a most gruesome site. Standing behind me was a young woman, late teens or early twenties, with a hole where her nose was supposed to be. She was saying something to me that was totally intelligible to me. I knew she was asking for money, but her words I could not understand because of the way the sounds came out from the hole in the middle of her face where her nose was supposed to be. I had to look away…I am used to seeing many people with horrible injuries asking for money in these situations, but this one was really a shock to my system. The nasal labial folds of her nose were there but all the rest was gone, the skin was caved into the gaping hole and the pink mucous tissue was easily seen from outside. It was like looking at something your not supposed to see, it felt like an invasion of her privacy….I can’t imagine what it must feel like for her.

Then as I returned to the car after purchasing some good bread, two croissants, and a bottle of water, I was met by another woman; one whom I am used to seeing at Kivu Market. She has had injury to her left lower lip and jaw, her deformity leaves her also unable to speak clearly, her tongue doesn’t move properly because part of her lower jaw is missing; the boundary her tongue needs to speak normally is gone. And of course, she is in need of money as well. Both of these women have encountered some violence that caused these injuries; what violence I will never know. I wanted to stay and ask the girl without the nose what had happened, how this tragedy came to her life, but I knew I would not be able to understand her, so I just walked away…it was a difficult walk and one that is still bothering me.

A shopping trip to the Kivu Market is both blessing and curse; you must be ready to face tragedy of this sort to find your coveted possessions.

Then a wonderful trip from last Sunday, Abbe John Fidel and I were able to go to Kibumba IDP Camp so that he could say Mass. But this was not just your regular, ordinary, every Sunday Mass; this was a Mass that included 65 infants, teenagers, and adults baptized and 30 others partaking in their First Holy Communion. We arrived at 8:30am to find people beginning to gather for their first Confession, others placing tarps over the wooden frame in the open field. Two tarps were placed over the area of the Altar but the benches where the congregation sat was open to the bright morning sun. The air was warm and the sun felt good, even a bit too warm in the beginning. We had seen the full clear beauty of Nyiragongo Volcano on the drive up from Goma, but as the morning progressed the clouds and cool air began to arrive.

After visiting with a number of the candidates for baptism and communion, I walked into the center of Kibumba IDP Camp to visit the dispensary where I have worked from time to time and the site for which St. Anne donated the funds to purchase one months worth of medicines. I could not fathom being so close and not stopping to say hello to my colleagues working there. I visited with the few patients hoping to encourage them in some way. One was a small child very ill with Malaria. Then I visited the maternity ward; there were 5 mothers with new infants from the night. Obviously the nurses had been working all night in assisting these 5 births. All mothers and babies were doing well. Many patients were coming into the queue already at that early hour, patients are many at the camp, especially now because the population has grown again due to the renewed fighting. As I walked through the camp, I saw so many signs of malnutrition and hunger…people are so thin and I see that on a daily basis in Goma as well. Hunger for food, for justice, for progress, for development, for peace,…HUNGER!!!

I returned from my visit to the dispensary to see progress on our makeshift church coming along beautifully. They had placed a tarp on the dirt then placed a small table for the Altar; the lectern was in place, as well as the credence table. Chairs were being placed for those who would assist in the Mass, the musicians were assembling, and the line for confessions was moving as one by one they went in to visit with Abbe John Fidel. The air was becoming cooler by the minute, the music started and the sound system seemed to be functioning. Everyone stood as we sang the entrance hymn and Mass had begun. The grounds were jammed packed with people of all ages. We progressed through the lessons, the gospel, the homily and began the baptism portion of the service. It was in the middle of the baptisms that the rain began to fall, light at first, then pouring from the heavens as if it would be the next flood of the world. Those of us under the two tarps remained relatively dry, but those coming forward for baptism and then communion were drenched to the bone. Children were standing in the rain shivering, the choir continued to sing for all they were worth and the sounds of rain, thunder, music, words of baptism and communion filled our senses. It was a site to behold, water running down the faces, dripping through the tarps, moving the bible, the Eucharist, the credence to keep things in a spot where water wasn’t dripping, seeing the bottoms of robes worn by attendants and priest becoming splattered with mud and drenched in water. The water flowing across the earthen floor becoming pools of brown water we were all treading through. Finally as we were finishing Mass the rain began to slow, it was after Mass when the rain finally stopped for a period of time. What an experience that was….WOW!!!

Now after a wonderful celebration as this, we were afforded the wonderful Congolese hospitality; we were invited into a room of the school where IDP’s are staying and fed a wonderful meal of potatoes, beans, rice, and meat cooked in a wonderful sauce. It was delicious, but as I sat gazing out the window it was hard for me to think of eating such sumptuous food while seeing the hunger all around me, but I also knew that this hospitality was so important to receive graciously…

We prayed, asking God’s blessings on the food, giving thanks for all who had been joined to Christ through Baptism and who had been nourished in their First Communion, and then we ate the food with great relish; it tasted so good. We discussed many things at this meal including the problems of progressing education for those within the camp. It seems the government again, as always, pays some teachers but not all. We in that discussion were of one mind that an extra effort needs to be made by the government to see that all teachers for camps are paid. These are the poorest of the poor in this country and in this situation of war, they are the ones most in need of progressing their education and least able to pay. We discussed news of recent fighting as this is uppermost on everyone’s minds. Then we called MONUC officers at Rugari to double check that all was quiet there and if we were able to arrive to check the house and collect some of our belongings.

We got in the car and headed up the road to our village of Rugari, the rain had started to fall once again. Our visit to Rugari parish was short; we unlocked doors, saw the status of things, went to our rooms and collected what we wanted to take with us for this day. I got some extra clothes, my French language study aids, my radio, and my shaver; I had found myself missing these coveted possessions in the 6 weeks since we have been gone from the parish house of Rugari. I still have many items at Rugari, hoping against hope we can return again some day in the not too distant future.

The flower garden is now in full bloom after the good tending it had received in the time we were staying there; roses in the back are amass with beautiful blooms of many hues and the courtyard between the house and church are full of the deep red of amaryllis and white and yellow of daisy blossoms. It was beautiful, even in the rain coming steadily down. We left the house and it felt difficult, we don’t know when we can come back and we don’t know if the house will be intact when we do. War leaves one in the unknown. We pray MONUC will maintain their position there giving the added security, we are afraid of the looting and vandalism that could happen again as it did in the fighting from last year…we are so grateful for the presence of MONUC.

We headed back down the road to the steady drizzle of the rain; it was a quiet ride home. Our return in Goma was shortly after 5pm, we had left at 7am; it had been a long day and we felt the fatigue, for me much of it emotional. It was good to be back in Goma, our trip had been successful and yet we can only rest in the unknown. For that Sunday we were able to accomplish a wonderful thing, what will come in the future at Rugari Parish we must wait to see. ONE DAY AT A TIME…SWEET JESUS…ONE DAY AT A TIME…

Well, this has been my letter of small bits of life here in Goma and Rugari from the past week, hope that helps you to imagine what it is like. I wanted to try drawing some pictures with words instead of photos this time.

Take Care and God Bless,
Jackie

TRAVEL EXPERIENCES

This blog post is going to be a bit different...

A bit of a collage...

Pictured here are the young folks who helped me find my way in Nairobi, Kenya. This is Charles and his friend Josephine at the Osewe Restaurant in downtown Nairobi Sunday afternoon after church. AAAHHHH THAT WAS A GOOD DAY!







And we ate deliscious traditional LUO food.

These two fellows are colleagues with Charles and work for him in his sound studio. They were in charge of the sound system for the Pentacostal worship service we attended.


Can't say enough good things about the ROSA MYSTICA RETREAT CENTER in NAIROBI...





...just go there to stay when you are in KENYA.


(Franciscans)


and while you are there enjoy prayer and meditation in the beautiful chapel.




...the tea plantations of Kenya...













and just the beautiful countryside of Kenya...





...it is stunningly beautiful...









I had to laugh...it was the season of road construction...













and Kenya is doing the high tech, good quality type of road construction... so is Rwanda.






This huge and beautiful Catholic Church next to the house where I am staying in Kigali, Rwanda is a real testament of faith. It has been designed and built solely through the work and finances of the congregation. No funding came through the Diocese to accomplish this construction.















And the most wonderful thing is that music ministry seems to be there strong suit. Hardly a day passes when I have walked by without listening to some WONDERFUL MUSIC. Especially fine traditional music including these drummers who were preparing to help celebrate the Mass.

Here is a photo op for Robin and Jen, wife and daughter of Pastor John Rutsindintwarane. He is the General Secretary of the Lutheran Church of Rwanda. I have finally met this man who I got in touch with by email well over a year and half ago....and wow what exciting ministry he has going. And have really enjoyed getting to know this family


Well, I just had to volunteer to help for my second church service with them...and they asked me to preach. It has been a real treat to be part of Lutheran services again and to be able to participate more fully...AAHHHHH!!!! SWEET!










Now I will close leaving you with a poem I wrote on Saturday morning last weekend. I had spent 3 long days traveling by bus returning to Kigali with our books for NKOKWE...

Descending

What must it feel like to be descended upon by vultures while still alive?
I am reminded of the picture of a starving child sitting in the dust somewhere in Africa with a vulture sitting patiently at a distance…
…waiting for his time to feed from the weakening, dieing child.
Did the child have yet the strength to know his life was ebbing from his weakened frame, did he have yet the strength to fight, to get angry…?

To be descended upon by vultures…
…that is the experience I liken to descending from a bus into the balmy warm air of a night in Kigali, Rwanda.
I descend into the midst of bodies crying out to me

grasping at my arms and my luggage and my attention.
Each wanting a piece of me…a piece of my money really,
it’s not me they want, but my money.
My skin has become a burden to me now and in these times when the vultures are there seeking to take from me all that I have,

I feel my life blood seeping out of me and I feel my weakening condition.
And then I get angry; angry at the situation of the world that fosters such behavior and grasping need.
But I get angry with the individuals also,

is there no shame for them in their behavior

that they will take advantage of me because of my color,

because of my WEALTH…HAH. I scorn the thought.
In my life I have not seen myself as wealthy…

but I can understand how the vultures see me as wealthy,

for they do not see me and my situation, but they see the paradigm of wealth portrayed by so many tourists and visitors who arrive;

those who live much higher on the scale than I.
They see the scale of wealth they’ve become accustomed to

in television, Internet, and journals.
They see a different kind of wealth than I enjoy or even aspire to.
I have lived my life simply,

forgoing the seeking of wealth on the scale that they see.
So now I pay the price, I am unable to pay the small fees for their help,

for a taxi instead of a bus, or for an extra pair of hands to help me carry my luggage.
And I get angry again when I am asked a higher fee for the bus

...because my skin is white instead of black.
I get tired of injustice in the world at these times…
…but more than that, I just get tired,
I feel the life seeping out of me,
I am no longer a living, breathing human being,

but a bit of food for the vultures to feed from…
I am drained by the presence of vultures descending to see what they can pick from my carcass.