Inward Renewal

When the city council came through and tore out the entrance to our community’s entrance, it created a crisis of sorts.  There’s a government clinic within the premises and large numbers of people come in and out of the gate all day long. Vehicles come in and out for the agricultural programs as well as the residents who live on site.  The first thing the community needed to do was to construct a bridge.  That solution was pretty easy to come by in theory, but in planning and site construction it turned out to be quite complicated.

Rather than have one engineer overseeing construction of the bridge, there were five to six!  I watched events unfold as everyone became an overseer and only one person was working.  Not that all Zambians function like this, but it’s not uncommon to see road construction crews of 12 plus men all standing around watching one man work.  The same principle was at work here.  Because of the plethora of opinions on how the bridge should best be built, we ended up with no cohesive strategy for the bridge.  Major things were overlooked regarding the integrity of the structure for vehicles, but that didn’t really matter as much because this way everyone contributed.

I’ve included the picture to the left to demonstrate why our driveway was torn up in the first place.  The driveway that we did have passed over two large drainpipes.  Of course, there was nothing wrong with the drainpipes other than that they were clogged with dirt.  Rather than working to unclog the drains, the city council decided to take corrective action by tearing the whole thing out.  Again this illustrated a different approach to problem solving.  Here, little emphasis is placed on preventative maintenance.  When a little problem became a big problem, then the solution was to entirely replace.  Considering the inconvenience to all and the total net expenditure, this has ended up being a very costly venture indeed.

There’s been a lot of flooding in our area over the last few weeks because there is nowhere for water to drain to.  So water has submerged dirt roads and flooded residential areas.  The community in our area has gotten fed up – so the Lusaka City Council has finally sent “help” .  The plan?  To create drainage ditches on either side of the road using a ditch digger.   The hope was that this would allow drainage for flooded plots.

The city coucil never warned residents of their action, they just started digging trenches that are now a couple miles long.  Residences with entrances off the main road are now cut off.  The council has yet to put drainage pipes or temp vehicle bridges for every entrance.  The trench is 3-4 ft deep and wide enough that children can’t jump across.

Our driveway was torn up at 17:00, just before people started to arrive home from work.   Luckily, I came home early today and passed through the front entrance.  An hour later, the council came through without notice and created an impassable flowing river.  So, we’re trapped in until a bridge is made.

Our neighbors, the Singletons weren’t so fortunate.  They returned home too late and were trapped outside.  We’ll see how long it takes for the council to put things back together again.  Meanwhile, we’re getting used to the idea that our vehicle won’t be of much use to us.

I’ve been commenting how the land in Lusaka has just about reached its saturation point.  Portions of the road are under water in our neighborhood which means that the roads are taking a beating.  The tarmac that is laid down is very thin and underneath it is dirt.  When the ground beneath gets soft then potholes begin to emerge.  A few road logistics companies are based down our road which means that the heavy traffic is ruining the road.  Everyday tractors and trailers are parked along the roadside waiting to be unloaded.  The tractors pull off the roadway into mud holes that fill up with water as they wait.  It’s amazing what some of the overland truckers try to pull off with their big rigs.  Some make u-turns in the middle of the road if they dare.  I snapped this pic with my phone the other day as I was travelling into town.  This truck driver got stuck in the mud as he was trying to turn around… which caused a snarl in traffic for hours as anyone and everyone tried to hook chains to his rig to pull him out.  Have I shared that the rains cause a slight inconvenience around here?

Last week a pastor in our mission’s pastors training classes passed through what most American’s would consider a tragedy.  His wife gave birth to a baby boy via an emergency C-section operation.  During the operation doctors and nurses told him to go home and wait for the outcome.  They told him that the procedure was 50/50 survival for wife and child.

The next morning he returned to the hospital and found wonderful news waiting.  His wife and child were okay… His boy was born with birth defects but the prognosis for future procedures seemed good.  A week passed and all seemed well…  He and his wife were exhausted from taking care of a newborn and recovering from the invasive surgery.  Friday night they went to sleep and in the morning they found the baby struggling to breath.

They rushed to the government hospital but their son died on the way.  The doctors pronounced the child BID (Brought In Dead).  What started out as just another morning turned into a visit to the police, mortuary and hasty funeral service.  In Zambia, children who are days / weeks old are not given the typical funeral.  The pastor and his wife had not yet given the boy a name so the government documents indicated “son of…”  Within hours, the death had been processed by the authorities and burial plot was given to the family in crisis.  By 13 hrs. that afternoon, everything was finalized.  The pastor and his wife returned to their home, stunned and exhausted.

I visited them the following day and sat with them in their home, me being mostly quiet.  Lots of family members were packed into every room of the small house.  Mothers, sisters, nieces, uncles sat on the floor and we all sat in silence.  Communication was evident, soul to soul, spirit to spirit.  Being surrounded by community like that would have been uncomfortable to me if I were the one loosing a child.  I would probably want to be left alone.  Not so in Zambia, the community shows profound solidarity and draws close to the grieving.

Looking around the room I saw the faces… and wondered how the happenings of the day before could possibly be true.  The pastor was warm and appreciative of me passing through his place.  He shared with me his deep conviction of the “supremacy of Christ” even in the midst of loss.  He shared how he felt the tangible comfort of his Savior.  As he talked I glanced over at his front door… A paper had been posted there at eye-level – no doubt put there deliberately.  I’ll never forget what it read:

“Happiness depends on happennings, joy depends on Jesus.”

Already, the pastor had begun his fight for joy… in the midst of everything he had decided to soldier on.

I got this picture off the internet but it’s the closest looking to the lizards that reside under our rocks and in our flower beds.  They enjoy climbing up our screen door and catching flies or mosquitos.  When we first moved into our house it was infested with lizards.  It wasn’t uncommon to sit in on one of our love seats and soon find a lizard peering over your shoulder.  My response was to scream, Tim’s was to kill the things.  He’s broken two of my brooms killing lizards in our house.  Well, we’ve finally gotten a handle on the lizards because Tim “lizard-proofed” our front door.

Last week I was out on our front patio (can’t remember what I was doing) but when I came back in, a lizard followed me.  When I saw it, I screamed – it’s just automatic.  The lizard was having difficulty with our newly polished stone floor.  It slipped and slid down the hallway, then back toward me.  My house helper, Grace, thought something terrible was happening and when she saw it was only a lizard she giggled a bit.  Then she and Tim escorted the lizard outside.

When all was well with the world again: the lizards were outside and I was safely inside. Grace told me that it is a Bemba belief that if a lizard follows you, you are pregnant.  Well, I am indeed pregnant, so perhaps there is some validity to this myth.

Lusaka is well into its rainy season now.  The heavy rains, which were supposed to come in late December have now arrived.  They are becoming more predictable now, with daily rains coming at around 14:00 hrs.  The ground has pretty much reached its saturation point and that means that driving gets a lot more interesting.

Most of our missionaries have 4WD because getting in and out of the townships means passing through deep water holes.  Seriously, some of the low spots in the road fill with water threaten to swallow up even the most equipped vehicles.

I took some pictures last week as I drove around.  Notice in the first picture how high the water is coming on the tailpipes of sedans.  This photo was taken on Great East Rd. which is one of Lusaka’s busiest rds.  It’s not unusual to see motorists submerge their exhaust systems completely.

I had to speak at a church in Kanyama, and boy was that journey interesting.  The road into Kanyama felt more like a roller coaster or mud rally than a main road.  Even at Ciyanjano, the creek is roaring.  The bridge is now impassible because the creek has cut out around one side of the bridge.

So far, Lusaka’s townships aren’t experiencing any cholera outbreaks but with the ground reaching saturation point, pit latrines will start filling up and boreholes might be threatened with surface water contamination.  Life here is a delicate balance.  Transportation for locals is fraught with delays, mud and getting drenched.  Most people can’t wait for this time of the year to be over.

But the rains also sustain life here.  The majority of Zambia drains into the mighty Zambezi and Kafue Rivers which course their way throughout the land bringing much need water and fertility.  They are now very full.  The life cycle of many plants and animals here depend on the extremes of knowing plenty and feeling want.

I pass by this sign every single day on my way to the office.  I’m amazed by the names given to churches in the compounds.  This church’s name is called Grace Achiever’s Church – which is of course a contradiction in terms according to Ephesians.  At the very least, each morning I’m reminded of Ephesians 2:8-9.

“For by grace you have been saved through faith. And this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God, not a result of works, so that no one may boast. “

Do I view divine grace and favor as God’s initiative?  Am I working towards my own righteousness?  Can I receive the grace and love of God for me as a free gift?  Hmm… I wonder if that sign is there for me?

Three times a month (on Saturdays) I have the privilege of hiring one of the hardest working gardners I’ve ever met.  Charles is one solid dude and can do the work of three men – no kidding.  I’ve never heard him tell me there’s a job he can’t accomplish.  With a hoe (“khasu” in the Cinyanja language) he can tear apart and put together any problem situation.  He weeds, slashes, plants, trims, digs, identifies native plants, traps animals, washes, paints, details autos, landscapes, negotiates deals and just about any other thing a person might need done.  I’ve never had need to keep him on task because he takes orders and disappears for the rest of the day – completely transforming whatever he touches.  If he worked for you, you’d be impressed.

With gardner help like his, Andrea and I enjoy are back yard all the more.  As a bonus for his hard work, I gave Charles a compressor from the engine of my old Toyota Hilux.  Two years ago, the engine blew up and so I saved any spare parts that were still good.  With a perfectly good spare like this one, Charles took it deep into the Lusaka markets to find a buyer.  It didn’t take long for him to get 300,000 ZMK (approx $66).  He was able to pay for his children’s education and then some… !  It just goes to show how ridiculous it is to throw things away here.  With a little time and working the right network of connections, everything has value.

A couple of days ago, a young man named Mark brought a gift to our front door.  He completely surprised us by wanting to gift his first banjo to a young boy – and that young boy happened to be Ian.  Mark is known in our community for spending his free time playing a guitar and writing his own songs.  Sixteen years ago, it was his dream to be a musician.  Not being able to afford a guitar, he set out to hand craft a simple banjo for himself.  All he needed were a few wires, a plank of wood, a few nails and an old oil can.  With the wire, he made bridges and strings.  With the nails, he made tuning pegs.  He carved out the plank to be the neck of the instrument.  He put a lot of effort into it this banjo so it had much meaning and value to him.

We asked if he would play a few songs; which he did. He even recorded a message to Ian for our video so that when Ian got older he’d know who gave him the banjo.  Zambians are very generous people and love to share their blessings with us.  At times, it’s hard to be recipients of such generosity.  Nevertheless, in Zambia it’s always important to honor the gift-giver by receiving the gift with open hands.  Gifts are a seal of relationship and solidarity, so we accepted it with much gratitude.

Owning a new guitar, Mark saw no reason to have two instruments; so he chose to share the excess with someone else. Us. Living in Zambia, we see this all the time – it’s just part of life here.  The community shares commodities for the betterment of others.  Rarely do Zambians store their excess.  To store excess is considered wasteful because the potential to benefit others in the now is “lost”.  Certainly there are examples whereby Zambians may have the need to store (like their maize crop yield) but even then they share generously with others and the general trend is not one of hoarding.

Living in such an environment we too have become active participants.  As westerners we find this prevailing attitude towards “things” to be a really constructive challenge to the way that we live our lives.  I can’t help but think of the words Jesus used in Mark 12:48 when he was explaining the meaning of a parable to his disciples, “Everyone to whom much was given, of him much will be required, and from him to whom they entrusted much, they will demand the more.”

Most missionaries get some sort of formal cultural training and orientation before they head to the mission field.  The better their pre-ministry cultural training the more they learn to value their new host culture.  Some training programs immerse missionaries from the outset into their new host culture.  To live in the village for a few months, without ammenities and modern conveniences, a person learns how difficult survival can be and how much others are needed.  It’s then that a person begins to learn to appreciate local wisdom, ingenuity and assets.

When I first came to Zambia, I had it drilled into my head that I wanted to embrace this ideal.  My goal was to become more and more dependent upon Zambia, because after all I came here to build relationships and learn.  But inevitably, I found myself falling back into my own world – to a zone of comfort.  Rather than putting myself forward I found myself withdrawing.  I’ve found that the more I withdraw the less I sense a need for other people.  And when life is lived too long like this, its a slippery slope towards thinking that Zambia primarily needs me and my help.

But self-dependence can also quickly disintegrate in Africa.  Life happens here in such a way that others have to be called upon.  Take for instance a trip our family made to Malawi and back.  The trip was a long one, driving long distances through seemingly uninhabited country.  Things were going great until we had car trouble… Pulled over on the side of the road in 100 degree heat, hours away from the next town, with little hope of help, gets your heart pumping fast.  To look around, there’s not much to speak of.  No convenience stores, cell coverage, water, repair shops, or towing services.  What can a family do in this situation?

Well, we started praying.  God seemed a lot closer when our machine of dependency was in need of repair.  Secondly, we started racking our brains together to isolate the problem – squeezing every last bit of auto wisdom out of each other – hoping collectively we might solve the problem.  Then, as a last resort, we consulted Zambians.  It was uncomfortable at first, but we finally asked around for help.

It’s amazing how willing Zambians are to help.  It’s part of their culture and values.  They are used to needing each other because unforeseen life situations happen and resources have to be collected to find a solution.  In our case we barely rolled into the Chipata AutoWorld where we talked to someone who called someone who called someone.  In no less than 30 minutes, two Zambian mechanics showed up out of the woodwork and diagnosed our problem.  I was soooooo relieved and endebted…

It was a good lesson that I needed to learn again.  Being in a tight spot where I needed others was really a wake up call about how we live our lives day to day.  The longer I’m in Zambia, the more I realize that I need Zambians way more than they need me.