Wrapping up Faculty Development

English team at work and lunch

During these last weeks I've been blessed with good health and rest, but even more so by the love, compassion, wisdom, and good humor of our Congolese sisters and brothers. Wednesday (12.8.10) was a day of wrapping up and preparing to move on. ...

Trip to Epulu: Part 2 (11.26.10)

Epulu is about 400 km northwest of Beni. The first 60km is paved road. The rest is a corrugated and scarred road of hard-packed dirt.

We flew out of Beni, screaming past people on foot, motos, and bicycles. ...

Sometimes you just need a laugh; OR, Rock-Paper-Scissors goes Congolese

My years in experiential/adventure education were filled with hard work and lots of laughter. However, those experiences pale in comparison to what happens when my Congolese sisters and brothers play speed rabbit, bumpity-bump-bump-bump, or warp speed. ...

Trip to Epulu: Part 1

There is rumbling in the sky. Thunder rolling somewhere off in the distance. The daily afternoon storm gathering itself together. I take comfort in these rains. But I am one of the fortunate ones with a roof over my head and dry rooms in which to hide.

Just back from a weekend in Epulu to enjoy some quiet, nature, and the okapi.

Prayer and praise

There are so many gifts and blessings here at UCBC, here in Congo. At this moment I'm surrounded by two of the most precious: prayer and praise. ...

Reflection

Earlier this week self-doubt and recrimination decided to take up residence in my head. “Who do I think I am? What do I really have to offer? Am I really helping the faculty? Am I helping David, Honoré or anyone else here?” I felt disheartened for no other reason than weariness and the constant rush of competing needs. ...

Images from the week

Beans and rice: my favorite lunch

How is it that another week has passed? The days press into each other. Each one intense, filled with noise, quiet, conversations, prayer, singing, work, beans and rice, motos, hard-packed dirt roads and slippery red mud. A few images: ...

Mama kuku na ndogo

Defender of the young

To the consternation of my son, I enjoy chickens. I’m no expert on fowl of any kind, chickens included. Have only read stories and other people’s musings about chickens. Have never taken an extension class or done a 4-H project. I just enjoy watching them. ...

Thy will be done

A damp-sky day

Saturday was the second day of faculty development with the full UCBC faculty. The session was scheduled for 8-11am. But it had rained the night before, and the morning sky was grey and heavy with moisture....

Emmanuel

It’s 8:15pm. The night sky dazzles with stars. A planet (I believe) hangs like a spotlight high in the east sky. It's been there every night for at least the past week (my observations skills suffer from inconsistent application!).

This wonderful, crazy, blessed place of Congo

Forget all the bad news about DR Congo for a few minutes. This is a place of amazing beauty and greatness. Yes, I've only seen a tiny corner; but this corner is just one of countless others  across this vast landscape of almost 1 million sq. miles (905,567 sq. mi.)

So, a few snapshots:
 Last evening we had a magnificent thunderstorm. ...

First day of classes

Mwulimu John anakunywa kawa

Today was a full day, beginning with Swahili lessons at 7am. Mwulimu John (Teacher John) began lessons for four of us on the outside porch next to our kitchen. Now that he no longer teaches in school, Mwulimu John spends his days working in his fields. I'm told that he prefers to have early morning classes so he can get to his crops. Tomorrow we start at 6:30am.

Mwulimu John is a vivacious and very encouraging teacher, for which I’m grateful. Learning a new language is a humbling experience. I understand the grammar and the rules of verb conjugation, but every spoken conjugation or simple sentence feels like a load of stone. I have to think hard and visualize the words before I can push them out of my mouth. Hmmmm…..it is the first day. 

PS...Translation of the caption: Teacher John drinks coffee. (And yes, I had to look at my notes to write it.) 

Released and Renewed

Paul Robinson left this morning to make his way overland to Kenya via stops in Kagando and Kampala. Before he left, David Kasali prayed for Paul's safety. He began, "We release Paul into your care..." A year ago Paul prayed and released me from a responsibility that burdened me. Last evening...

NOT a grasshopper

Today I'm reminding myself of Doug's teaching from Joshua: that we're not grasshoppers. As I look ahead at the work for these next several weeks, it's easy to be overwhelmed. ...

First week

It feels like seven months have been packed into the past seven days. Just a week ago five of us arrived in Beni, having flown together over the lush landscape of this corner of east Africa. Cullen, Howard, and Doug return to Entebbe today, then head back to the U.S. tomorrow.

Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday morning were the board meeting. Thursday and Friday were the Consultation. Saturday was the official opening of the academic year. Yesterday, Sunday, was church (three services). And the spaces in between have been filled with conversation, planning, sharing, dreaming, learning, laughter, and tears. So, where to begin? Perhaps ...

Arrivals

UCBC campus

Six of us arrived safely in Beni on Monday, October 18, 2010: Cullen Rodgers-Gates (Director of North American Operatons for CI, Howard Brown (CI-USA board member), Douglas Slaughter (friend of Howard’s, Paul Robinson (President of the CI-USA board), and David Santoso (HNGR intern who has a 6-month placement at UCBC). Cullen, Howard, Douglas, and  joined up at Schipol, Amsterdam Saturday night/Sunday morning; Paul and David met the 4 of us in Entebbe Sunday night. ...

Packed and shrink-wrapped

Bags: 2010

Has it really been a year since I first went to DR Congo? There is truth to the worn adage, "Time flies." Yes, the bags are packed, shrink-wrapped,
and in the care of Delta Airlines. Plans and agendas not so much.

Africa confirms what Al-Anon has taught me: I waste my energies and daily joys by being anxious about plans and expectations. My African friends and mentors remind me that my responsibility is to...

Choosing joy and gratitude when the heart breaks

Two weeks ago we moved Dad from independent living into assisted living. It was another downsizing and another reminder that life is closing in and closing down. Dad concurred that making the change was the right thing to do. He looked at the new space before the decision was confirmed.  My sister and I were concerned that Dad fully recognize that his living space would shrink from a one-bedroom apartment to one bedroom. "Well, I don't really need all that space," and, "This is the right thing to do," were Dad's responses.
So on a Saturday, my sister, brother-in-law, and daughter moved the few items that would fit in one room from Dad's apartment. We arranged the furniture...

Choosing joy and gratitude

Bee balm: a funky, raggedy, and joyous!

I like to think that I'm a "glass is half full" kind of person. The truth is that while the glass may be half full, it does have a chip on the rim or there is some bit of floating lint or insect piece. Yes, half full, but...

Wouldn't be bad if I were to keep my observations to myself or let them bounce and slide, ice-cube-like, off the edge and onto the floor. But no. I'm in the bad habit of wearing mild disappointments confidently--not loudly or brazenly, but with quiet assurance. Ask me "How are you?" and you're likely to get, "OK" or "Not bad."

Geesshhh! I don't want to be around me sometimes! ...

Powerless

Where to begin? The laundry is drying on the line. Rosie and Abby are doing their part to turn the compost. The bees are busy. The day began with prayer and writing, preparing Carl's lunch, exercising, then more prayer, some tears, and two phone calls.

Congo is calling. David Kasali has invited me to come to UCBC and work there. The invitation came as a surprise several weeks ago during the USA Board meeting of Congo Initiative. For the past four weeks the request has marinated in my head and heart. But this entry isn't about all of that. It's about the lessons of this morning.Vulnerability. Powerlessness. Quiet Confidence.

Several years ago I had the privilege of learning a lesson that has served me well: When I admit my weaknesses, I know the greatest strength. That strength usually manifests itself through people as God uses family, friends, acquaintances, and even strangers to meet needs in sometimes surprising ways. Almost every time I ask someone for help, I am blessed with sufficiency and surprise. ...

Gentle into the night

The bees have come home to the hive for the night. Dozens of them (guard bees?) cluster at the entrance. I like to think they are keeping sentry, but I haven't checked the books to confirm this notion. Rosie and Abby, the chickens, are perched on their roost. A mockingbird calls out from the telephone pole, and the fireflies float, calling silently with their tiny bursts of light. It's a gentle ending to a full day.

The gift of the evening was sitting with Dad on the edge of his bed, lightly rubbing his back as he tried to brush away the cobwebs of confusion.

He had, as is the course of his day, spent his day sleeping. I had called at 4:45, just before his dinnertime, offering to come by and visit. But he was too confused to make a decision. He had been sleeping. He could only manage to think about going down for dinner. We agreed he would call me after dinner.

He forgot to call. ...

Thunderstorm

Thunderstorm this morning. Sheets of rain.

Thunder echoes and rolls across the soundscape. First behind me, then in front. High overhead it drones.

I love the sounds of rain. Tap-tapping on the gutters. Skittering on patio and pavement.

The wash of rain cascades across the summer vegetation of trees and shrubs and plants. A chorus of sound. A chorus of wet and damp and lush.

Rainy days in summer are my forced time-out. And I need time-outs from the busyness that claims the days.

Today's rain drives me to still. To wait out. To site here on the screen porch and listen.

Welcoming the girls

A week ago, April 14, I picked up my bees, affectionately called, "the girls" (apologies to the drones in the hive--the few hundred males whose only lot in life is to mate).

My brother-in-law and I left in the early morning to drive 25 miles north to the small town of Waldo, OH, where we were to pick up the hive from George Taylor of Waldo Apiaries. George and a band of six men were unloading hundreds of bee packages from a livestock trailer which they had hauled up from Georgia overnight.

We picked up the package of bees, estimated 10,000-12,000, and their new queen and carefully set them in the car. The bees were quiet, as it was early and the temperature was cool. I kept the package in the garage for the day, as I had been instructed. Opportunity for the bees to acclimate. As the day progressed so did their activity. Clinging onto each other they formed a single body of bees and kept up a constant buzzing chorus as the day progressed.

Sanity, Serenity, and Corporate America

I've surrendered my serenity to corporate America lately. The dimmer switch rotated just enough to wake me up a couple of weeks ago. But I walked out of the room of enlightenment and back into sloppy darkness this past Friday.

You see, I'd been having a few issues with a certain mega-telecommunications corporation. Not with the individuals, mind you. The dozen or more customer service folks and technicians I've dealt with have been professional, polite, helpful, diligent, accommodating. May have something to do with the feedback questionnaire that they know gets sent to the customer as soon as we hang up. But really, they are nice people and most have been pleasant. In spite of me.

Contrasts

Most days I love the messes of life--the odd contrasts and sweet and sour of daily living. I say, "most days," because it's easiest to ride the bumps when I'm feeling relaxed and at ease. This week has been full of contrasts and messes and tensions. A few thoughts about one.

We had wonderful snow this week. Large flakes piled up quickly beginning Monday afternoon, and I've taken advantage on my cross-country skiis. I don't make a pretty site out there. This is the first I've been on my skiis in probably 12 years. I'm slow, awkward, and unfashionably dressed. But I've had a wonderful time. And as soon as the AT&T repair is done (once again) this morning, I'm heading out for another jaunt.

The contrast? Congo. It's always on my mind (apologies to Willie Nelson). Always. Many of the pictures that cycle through my laptop's screensaver are from Beni and UCBC. There are pictures of faces of friends from UCBC, pictures of landscape and lush vegetation, the buildings under construction. Chunks of time on Mondays and Fridays and evenings are often devoted to work related to Congo Initiative and UCBC. This week there have been conference calls about funding plans and strategies and volunteer policies, research on foundations (part of the funding work), research on solar power and internet, thinking about a faculty development plan...

Aside from the obvious, geographical difference, the tension is between being fully in the present place and time and desiring to be somewhere else. I love being outside in the cold and snow, provided that feet, hands, and body core are warm!. Doesn't matter that I have to stop every 75-100 yards to catch my breath or stretch an angry muscle. The cold air, the hard work, the lungs filling and exhaling, the sun and shadows on the snow are all good and wonderful. The physical exertion demands my attention and rewards me for it. And then I come back to tasks and responsibilities at home or work, and my heart and mind turn toward Congo where the challenges are many and the vision is bold.

 I want to be back, on the ground there at UCBC, but I'm here now, in central Ohio.

Today I will do my best to stay focused, be present, and enjoy this moment. It's good counsel that has guided me through far more difficult times. It's advice to remind me to relax and ride today's bumps.

Magnanimity and Restraint

Help each one of us, gracious Father, to live in such magnanimity and restraint that the Head of the Church may never have cause to say to any one of us, "This is my body, broken by you."

Prayer from China

From the Vespers Office for Friday, First Week of Advent
The Divine Hours: Prayers for Autumn and Wintertime

I first came upon this prayer a year ago, and was grateful to be reminded of it again this past Advent. The word magnanimity intrigues me. The Latin translation, according to my print version of the American Heritage dictionary, is great-souled. Other definitions include noble of mind and heart and generous in forgiving.

What a beautiful phrase, great-souled.

Since returning from Congo, life has flooded forth with issues, concerns, worries, conversations, hard questions, sad admissions. It's life. But it's been life in emotional high gear. And when I'm living in emotional high gear, I leave restraint and magnanimity standing alone at the bus stop.

Much of the last number of weeks has revolved around my 88-year-old father. He had decided quite suddenly, or so it seemed to my sister and me, to move from his apartment to a senior living facility--the very one he and Mom had lived in during the last two years of her life. So on the day after Thanksgiving, we, along with my brother-in-law, nephews, daughter, and a friend, moved Dad. I admit, preparing for the move I was not very great souled nor was I restrained. My energies were focused on cleaning out files and emptying drawers to lighten the load for moving day.

The move went smoothly and quickly, and by the very next day, Dad's new apartment looked cozy and settled.

And here is where God reminded me to strive towards magnanimity and restraint. And continues to remind me.

My dad, bumping along through a move that unsettled and confused him, even though he initiated it, was grateful and gracious. He has every reason to be angry. He knows that confusion and loss of memory are frequent visitors. In the few months since this move he has chosen and been forced to relinquish ever more of his responsibilities and freedoms. Most recently, he has had to give up driving his own car.

He gets tangled in the threads of new information. Confuses days and times. And he still misses his wife, my mother, who died two years ago. But he is magnanimous, restrained, and grateful. 

So many times over the last few years, as Mom's health failed, as my brother-in-law say his parents decline in health, as friends have cared for ailing parents, I've wondered, "Why, God? Why not spare these dear people? These are people who have followed you, lived lives worthy of your kingdom, been faithful in their walk of faith, and responsive to the needs of others. Why do you allow them to linger when they would prefer to cross over?"