The Un-Settling…

Today I was reminded of the reason I cannot seem to get ahead these days.  All of this moving around leaves you feeling very unsettled, and that is unsettling.  I am consistently feeling like I am not at home (because really I am not), and I can’t seem to find rest since I am always walking on egg shells…trying not to impose or annoy both our hosts and my team.

Before coming on this trip, I thought I was prepared.  I moved around as a kid, I haven’t lived with family for almost 8 years now, and I lived internationally for a year.  But nothing could prepare me for the unsettling feeling of being unsettled.  We have moved every month, and sometimes more often than that.

Just yesterday we were approached at our host’s home by moving men and the sheriff.  They had a court order to evict all of us (host and guest alike) due to some legal matter with our host.  So we packed our bags as the men threw all of the family’s possessions onto the street.  Our Spirits were still high as we ate all the perishables on the curbside until the Pastor (our contact) showed up and rushed us away before the media could get there.  We are currently staying at his house, eight people in one little room, until our host gets things sorted.  Though, we are most likely here at Pastor’s home until the end of our stay here.

Laura and I eating the perishables wondering what eviction day will hold.

Last night I lay in my mosquito net, aware of the roaches, ants, and that HUGE spider that crawled on my leg right before bed.  I lay in a house that gets water once a week.  I lay in a home with my 7 teammates plus the 11 people that lived there to begin with.  I lay there and mourn the feeling that I was finally settling into our first home in Zimbabwe only to lose it.  I lay there and mourn the feeling of entitlement that I have to constantly replace with gratitude.  I lay there and mourn the Zim-family I will probably not see again, knowing that I didn’t get to say goodbye.  And I can only stop the crying when I am tired enough to believe that it will be better in the morning.

AND as always, it truly is better in the morning.

I am blessed to be in the home with Pastor, Mama Pastor, and the 9 others including a couple little ones.  The baby cries when any of the white people get too close, but I know I will hold her before our time here is up.

And over breakfast, I had a heart to heart with a teammate about how exhausting it is to be a guest for a year, and how unsettled I feel.  She had advice on being open to have God show me what it means to be at home in Him.  And to learn to refresh, rest, and be free in a place that isn’t my own.

There is so much to learn, but I know that God has good plans for these next couple months.  As my stress levels seem to skyrocket, I just need to know that it’s okay.

(PS.  As I type this, one of the little ones, a three year old boy named courage, plopped down next to me and is splitting my headphones with me.  As he listens to my indie music he tries to speak to me in Shona (not knowing that I haven’t a clue what he is saying), and I am limited to saying; hi, thanks, yes, no, and porridge.  He does get excited when I say porridge.  And sometimes he tries to sing along with the music.  Gosh, he is so cute.  Gosh, I am so blessed)

To see my Fundraiser Flyer see: http://carolineritchey.theworldrace.org/?filename=fundraiser-flyer-and-birthday-photo

These Days…

It’s hard to say what I am doing these days since it seems that I am always waiting.  African Time is in full force here in Zimbabwe, so we spend hours wondering if we are actually going to do ministry that day.  It’s not anyone’s fault, since there are many unexpected things that come up, mainly in form of meetings, work, or broken vehicles (our contact is down two cars now…and the one he is currently borrowing sounds like it is on it’s deathbed.)

So, these days, we mainly lead bible studies, youth group, and do home visits.  We will be doing outreach next week to spread news of the new church plant.  And we just had a meeting with the Scripture Union about leading their bible clubs in the Public School.  They are the only ones permitted by the committee on education to enter schools with the word.  So if we want in, we go through them.

Last night, my teammate Vashti led the bible study on the outskirts of town.  I planned a lesson, but 45 minutes before we left, they handed us a huge packet and said that this was the curriculum that we were to teach.  The planner in me panicked, and Vashti took over…thank God.

We drove across country roads that would have been better left unpaved since the sporadic tarmac made the ride much bumpier than gravel would.  Our contact bought us some grilled maize on the cob from the men on the street who cook it over old barrels.  Well after dark we arrived to a darkened house, and 15 people eagerly sitting around candles waiting for the word.  By candlelight we sang songs in Shona and English, and Vashti brought the word.

That day I had joy.  And I didn’t have to work for it.  I just had it.  I was so grateful!  But when that happens, it makes the Devil a little nervous…and all today has been a struggle to keep that joy.  I have it still, but it hasn’t been easy.  And as I tire of fighting, I just want to lie in bed and not think.  That’s a wee bit unhealthy so instead I have been keeping busy; cleaning now that we have water again, watching movies on my computer now that we have the power back, and writing this blog.

This morning I was on babysitting duty for our host’s little girl.  She is special needs, but God has been healing her.  She recently began walking and talking, so please keep her development in your prayers.  During my time with her, we colored in my journal with crayons, sang twinkle little stars and an Irish song I taught her that reminded me of home, and I told her the story of Daniel in the Lion’s Den.  Later when I was reading Tozer on my computer, she walked in, boop-ed me on the nose with one finger, waited for me to return the sign of affection, smiled when I did, and walked on.

And that’s what is happening these days.  I have a feeling that ministry is so fluctuating and intermittent because God has things to do with me in this down time.  And I have to fight the mental fatigue and let Him work.  So… that’s that.  Oh Zimbabwe…

Another African Bus

I woke to the sound of people packing far too early in the morning.  But alas, we had to be ready and out the door at 5am.  Loaded into minibuses and shipped to the border, the sun began to rise.  We had our exit visas for Zambia and had to cross by foot over the Zambezi River to Zimbabwe.  From the bridge, we could catch glimpses of Victoria Falls…but I will be kicking myself for weeks for not taking a photo.  It was gorgeous but at the moment all I could think was “this is a long 2k to the border” and “this bag is heavy”.  Perhaps someone thought to snap one…but alas.

We got another full page Visa to enter Zimbabwe which gets me nervously close to a full passport.  I might have to add pages soon.   If I don’t count the one page I will need for my Cambodian full pager entry visa, then I have two blank ones left.  So….yeah.

Anyway, on to van with a trailer for our packs, where we are informed that the route we were going to take up to Harare, the capital, is a washed out dirt road so we have to go the long way.  For the sake of ease, I am in Van 2.  Van 1 in front pulls over with an axil on the trailer messing up.  They tie it up and search for a welder.  Many stops…no welder, no electricity, no help.  Then we see the other side of Van 1’s axil bite it and smoke starts to billow with a horrid burning tire smell.  Tied it up better this time since we used the jack.

Finally we stop for a couple hours to get the whole axil welded back on.  By this time it is 2:30pm.  We and you have to remember the hour we left that morning.  However we only traveled perhaps 200k or like 120miles.  We continued onward, getting stopped every twenty or thirty minutes to pay off the corrupt cops at the road blocks.  Then cue Van 2’s engine trouble.  The noise started a while ago…but we tried to ignore it.  Then the smell followed, and the fact that we kept losing gas.  So another couple hour stop happened to fix that.

We drove through the night, with a poor food-poisoned Squadmate having to run off into the bush every so often.  And of course the road blocks with the corrupt cops.  Misunderstandings with our drivers added to the time lost and we found ourselves here in Harare at 7:30am.

An 8 hour bus ride…taking over 24hrs…with only 3 cans of juice and 4 chip bags to get me through.  But God did it.

Our new contact so nicely offered to let us have this first day off since we traveled all night, and we will discuss later with him what we will be doing all month.  He mentioned something about a church plant here in the city, but we will see.  Happy to be here though.

I Never Thought I Would Be in Botswana...

...but that is where I ended up on a Safari.  We are having two off days while we leave Zambia and head to a new Ministry in Zimbabwe.  And my friends invited me to go to Botswana for a Safari...so I couldn't help but agree.  Next thing you know I am seeing the most amazing animals.

We only had one hiccup when our guide tried to take us over the border to Zimbabwe by accident, but we sorted that and got a visa extension for Zambia since our single entry expired as we left.  (we were at the four corners so to speak...where Zambia, Zimbabwe, Botswana, and Namibia meet at the Zambezi River.)

So without further ado...PHOTOS!

Feeling More Like a Family

One of the benefits of living with a family here in Zambia is the joy that comes with doing family-like things.  It was slow going at first which is to be expected when seven foreign 20-somethings suddenly start living in your home.  I have been able to help when possible with the baby or laundry; however I haven’t done much other than that.  But recently, I have been blessed by our hosts.

Two days ago we invited the family to a meal.  Kaycie our fearless culinary leader made chili, rice, and lentils.  They politely accepted the food but I could tell that it was far spicier than they were used to.  We had a little bit of awkward dinner conversation and then parted ways for cleaning dishes.

This I believe opened the door for more.  I have lingered more in the kitchen asking cooking questions (and I am so going to try that recipe for steamed pumpkin leaves when I get back to the States!) and I have made more small talk with the niece who lives here.  Our host’s wife, Miriam, and her niece sat with me and a teammate to play an interesting version of Crazy Eights…which I lost at quite often.  And Miriam gave us fresh baked scones.

This morning I was washing clothes in my bucket when Miriam came out in exercise gear (a blue velvet sweat suit) and asked me to walk with her for exercise.  We ended up going down to the market which was full of vendors and fresh veggies.  While buying she spoke in Bemba (the language of the copper belt…here they speak a different dialect) with a vendor who was very impressed that as a white person I had such nice hips.  Later Miriam told us about her conversation and said that it was good that I was larger.  Ha ha…I never considered that to be a good thing, but I will take it.

On our walk today, we discussed many things.  Later I will be showing Miriam how to thread her sowing machine and perhaps she will let me hem my Chitenge wrap.  I am just so happy to be with a family these days.  I don’t know what the next few weeks will hold but I am happy.

Below are some photos of my time here in Zambia:

Miriam Showing us How to Wrap the Chitenge

My Students and Me

Teaching my class.  Bishop Alec came in to take this Photo.

The Discomfort of Traveling to Zambia

I slept on the porch of our hostel since my mosquito net (which I am repeatedly reminded by rain is not a tent) flooded and held a nice amount of mud.  Lights on, people talking, I fell into an intermittent sleep at about 1:30am. Then awoke at 5:00am to pack.

No worries, I tell myself.  I can sleep on the bus to Zambia.  But that was before I realized that God wasn't done with growing me through discomfort yet.  After getting on the bus and going through multiple police check points that won't allow sleep since they must ALL see your passport, we got to the border.  This was a trial of its own since Malawians kept cutting us in the visa line with the excuse "you are so many".  Yes we were many but because of them cutting us it took 45 mins for our team  to get process after arriving at the window (that is not counting time spent in line...just time that we were being "helped").

After the border crossing I finally thought I would sleep on the bus.  I had a good aisle seat to spread out a little and I took a Dramamine to help with the sickness and lull me to sleep.  BANG!  Beside me a stood is slammed down beside me in the aisle and a man placed upon it. I now am squished between too people...and stool man of course is uncomfortably fidgeting the whole time.  His cheap, rough, suit rubbing my arm raw.  And his body forcing mine to lean away in a position that later cause such pain on the left side of my spine that I was brought to tears.  THIS WAS A LONG BUS RIDE!

We stopped at the side of the road so men could get off to pee.  As stool man was off, I slid his stool back just enough that he wouldn't have to touch me so much.  It was easy to do since everyone was tripping over it to get off the bus anyway.  When he got back on, he moved his stool back into alignment with my seat.  SO MAD.

Then our bus found itself debating whether to roll through a closed off road that was under construction or to take the detour through the mud.  For fear of being stuck they chose the closed road.  To make this happen they had to move the road block, which happened to be giant boulders on the street. This took many men and much time.  They would always try to avoid more work by just picking one large boulder to move and hoping we would fit through...when in reality it would have been better to move two smaller boulders a little to the left and right and slip in...but they do what they think is best.  We scratched by the rocks and proceeded.  This occurred 3 more times before our bus driver said "screw it" and drove down a bank to the little dirt detour road that we spent the last hour trying to avoid.

We also had a five minute stop at some shacks they called a rest stop.  There was a fee toilet and I figured it was getting time to go.  But I didn't have Zambian Kwatcha to pay the fee.  They lectured me about that, a lot, saying that it was dumb to travel without the money.  But I had no intention of paying for a toilet even if I had money, so I started around to the back of the building to pee there.  The lecturer yells to me that there is a fine for peeing outside.  To which I respond, "I cannot pee inside, I cannot pee outside.  Am I supposed to pee on myself?"  I left off the part I want to say, "Is there a fine or fee for that?"

Because this isn't my first time threatening to pee myself in public, and I am shameless about it, they let me in to the toilet without paying a fee.  But with all the lost time, the bus was done waiting and was honking to pull out of the lot.  Not feeling a good first impression of Zambia.

Night began to fall, and as impressed as I was by the mix of African Music Videos and Backstreet Boys, Brandy, and Usher, my gaze went outside to the sunset.  They full day of miserable travel weight heavy, especially on my left side where stool man was still leaning. (Seriously...there are 69 other people on this bus...couldn't he at least take turns sitting next to people.)  But with this sunset, I promised myself, that I wouldn't let this be a repeat of Malawi.  That I would let the end of this day be the begin of a new, better one.  And that I was going to be okay.

So, here's to a new country and a better season.

The Mobile Ministry of Unsung Heroes

Traveling Malawi has been tricky.  Our Ministry this month has been to seek out new ministries to partner with by sending future teams for the month long stints we have been doing.

We started for our training in the capital city of Lilongwe and then moved down to Zomba to finish our training and to start the search for potential ministry contacts.  (To see the interesting journey there see my mission blog at: http://carolineritchey.theworldrace.org/?filename=so-this-is-africa) Unfortunately, due to the unusually wet rainy season we were left in an area affected by flooding so we didn’t have power for most of our time there and no water on the last day there.  We decided to leave for the larger city of Blantyre in the south. 

I was in phone contact with a Pastor there named Bishop Malunga, so we met with him once to discuss his ministry.  We were invited to his church but had to drive out into an embassy declared “disaster zone”, a town called Phalombe to meet another potential contact.  Because of the condition of the roads the driver stayed the night with us in Phalombe and went to ministry with us.  Because she spoke Chichewa she was able to gauge things about the ministry that we couldn’t.  She told us that there was no orphanage in Phalombe, and that the man we met wasn’t a pastor at all.

Upon returning to Blantyre we were a little disappointed.  Our potential contact was starting to look a lot like a scam artist (which made more sense why he kept telling us the cost of everything), and things were not getting any more comfortable.  We tended to be out of power and water at most locations, and things were warming up weather-wise.

We did go to Bishop Malunga’s church back in Blantyre and ate a lunch at his house that his children prepared for us.  This allowed us to meet with a few members of the church council and to get a better idea of how a mission team could serve him in the future.  After one more meeting in Blantyre and the struggle to get transport sorted, we ended up leaving for the City of Salima which was Northward on the Lake of Malawi.

After meeting with a program called Kindle Orphan Care, we took a day off to boat out to an island in lake.  We got into a leaky wooden boat (we had a guy always bailing with an old oil quart), stepped over the catfish that would become our lunch, and headed out.  On island, a few of us explored by bouldering as high as we could go, then soaked in the sun while we had it (still rainy season).  After eating said catfish cooked over coals, I snorkeled a bit in the lake and was over-joyed to see so many beautiful colored fish in fresh water.  I got to even see Cichlids. 

Upon returning to shore we all found out that we now have a 50% chance of getting a parasite particular to Lake Malawi.  Bummer right?  We are all going to the Pharmacy to get the treatment upon returning to the capital.

After our day off, we were able to tour both the health clinic and some farm plots run by Kindle Orphan Care.  They are an amazing organization that gives me renewed hope for the programs here in Malawi.  I am currently staying just outside Salima with Teen Mission Ministry and touring some of their Orphan Care Units before heading to Lilongwe tomorrow.  And tonight’s Vespers left me super encouraged.  We played games with some of the bible students (Malawians about our age), and sang together, played drums, and listened to a message.  I think I like the way the Malawians worship.

We have a few more meetings in Lilongwe with different Pastors and Organizations, but in reality our time here in Malawi is coming to a close.  I don’t want to rush the time away, but I do look forward to a more stable placement with the church we will work with in Zambia next month.  I have already written my first sermon for that, and when things calm down I would like to write another just in case.

Thank you for your prayers and all your support, and I am so blessed and honored to be here even though I do miss the comforts of home.  God has placed me in a place of discomfort for a reason, and I intend to grow in it all.  So here we go!