I usually don't share much about the death of my son and how I am living without him but I am going to do it now and then...
My mind went crazy with pain after Ezra’s death. It was like an intensive burn had just happened on my soul and I was looking for anything to alleviate the pain. I think I spent about 100 USD on a life sized laminated poster of him. What did I intend to do with that? I had to do something. I dreamt about a house for street boys named the Ezra House. That wasn’t possible but I had to do something. I felt helpless. I wanted so badly to have him back and just the little things like that seemed to help like cold water on a burn or a Band-Aid on an open wound.
I have one of his towels and a cap he used to wear. Today while I took the towel off the line grief visited me. I buried my face in it and wept. I wished I had been able to wash it for him and not me. I thought I was far enough away from the girl’s house in my own house but they heard me and came running. I explained and they wrapped their arms around me and prayed for me.
Sometimes a panic comes over me and it’s like I am fighting with grief. Sometimes I look for it feeling like it should be time to feel deeply about my loss and I can’t find it, I am left frustrated. Other times it surprises me and I just let it wash over me and win. There is something peaceful about those times. It’s something I can do that seems natural and just.
Friday, August 27, 2010
Thursday, August 12, 2010
Living among the poor
July 2010
The other night I spent some time with the big boys discussing self-centeredness and the difference between being needy and “wanty”. The next morning a 19 year old boy came for some help. He had left his 2 little sisters crying for hunger. They had eaten a small bit of rice the day before and had nothing to eat this day. He was desperate and very humbled to have to ask us for food. He shared his story. His father worked for the government and was paid well. He died a couple of years ago. The government covered the cost of the funeral and left a little for the widow but that went fast so she had to sell their land to survive. Last year she died leaving nothing for her children. Social Services will do nothing for them. They were living in a small house, one room. This boy had been trying to build another room so that they weren’t all sleeping together. He was also out looking for work.
I brought all the older boys around him and introduced them. We discussed what they could do to help them. They had some leftover bread from breakfast and we put together other things we had available. They put it in a wheel barrow and escorted him home.
The next day the little ones and I made doughnuts and had plenty left over to share with the orphanage next door and then some. Some of the girls decided to share with a couple of widows in the area so we added some maze and they went off.
They came back with this story…
One of the widows had 3 children. She had been sick for 2 months and was too thin. She was cooking some cabbage and greens that she had gathered. Her little boy was eating sand. She didn’t have clothes but was wrapped in a capalana (a piece of cloth used for a skirt and many other things). Her house was made of sticks with plastic on the roof and capalanas for the walls. When they went inside they were so sad to find no mat and just a little rag for a blanket. It is so cold here now that I sleep under 2 blankets. We got a little care package together for her, a blanket and some food. We will bring her to the clinic and see what meds she needs. When I mentioned this story to Mangueze he lit up and responded, “We can fix her house Saturday.” Mariza told me that when she walks by her place on the way to school this lady always greets her warmly. She told me that she is a thankful person.
In June the children built a house from bottom to top for a widower whose house fell down in the area; boys and girls together doing simple construction. We used some of the material from his old house and some things not being used around our house. Mangueze took his old house apart and used the material from that also. It was so good for them to be able to give. They all had a lot of fun helping, even the little ones got involved.
I can’t get directly involved with the widows here. If I visit their homes it’s just an invitation for banditos. They think I may have left something of value there. Z (the young lady who stayed with us for 9 months) developed a relationship with a couple of the widowers as well as widows. One was in his 80’s, a rare sight, precious. She left her mattress for him. He suggested us sneak it to his daughter’s place and then he could get it to his place after dark so no one would see. He had never in his life slept on a mattress. It was fun to ask him how he slept.
I have a dear friend who just started an organization for widows. The Lord has been directing her and connecting her with the right people to help here and I am one of them. I have direct contact with widows and I don’t have to go looking for them. The children are a great help with this and it’s very good for their character to give. So it is good for all.
We have had 2 widows become a part of our family in the past couple of months. The first one to come, Maria, was so destitute; rarely had I seen someone so hopeless. She couldn’t pay her rent and wanted to do some work. I put her in the garden and she was better than a tiller. We now have a huge garden full of growing things. The boys are responsible to care their own plots. It was wonderful to watch hope grow in this precious widow as well. Sometimes she brings her blind mother to help by caring for her baby while she works. They are all very grateful.
The next one to come, Vinny, had been kicked out of her house for not paying rent. She came with her 5 little boys and just a capalana full of their possessions. The landlord locked her belongings up to get some pay from her. She basically had nothing. We put her up temporarily and she was a real blessing to the boys, cooking and cleaning. Social Service has agreed to do something to help her but that could take a long time so we used some money from my friend’s organization to rent another house and get some needed household items. She still comes sometimes to visit and help.
It doesn’t take much money to help a widow here. Their rent is usually between 5 and 10 USD a month. To fix up a house can cost from 10 to 20 USD. Their diets are simple and they don’t need much to be satisfied or even happy. They also are hard workers so finding them something to do is very helpful.
Flora and Dominga got stranded in Dondo the other night and had to sleep with a poor family that they were visiting for the day. I asked Flora how she slept, knowing it wasn’t quite as nice as her own bed. I was laughing as she told me about it, really, I should have been crying. There were no blankets. She slept on a rice sack. At night the bugs come up from the ground and feast on those sleeping. At first she thought they were mosquitoes. When she realized what they were it was about 4AM and she got up and just stood around shivering in her capalana until she and Dominga could get going. She was so grateful to be home that she made dinner and popcorn for us. Sometimes they forget how it used to be for them before they came to my place and it is good for them to experience it now and then. Most people live like this and accept it because they have nothing else to compare it with.
The other night I spent some time with the big boys discussing self-centeredness and the difference between being needy and “wanty”. The next morning a 19 year old boy came for some help. He had left his 2 little sisters crying for hunger. They had eaten a small bit of rice the day before and had nothing to eat this day. He was desperate and very humbled to have to ask us for food. He shared his story. His father worked for the government and was paid well. He died a couple of years ago. The government covered the cost of the funeral and left a little for the widow but that went fast so she had to sell their land to survive. Last year she died leaving nothing for her children. Social Services will do nothing for them. They were living in a small house, one room. This boy had been trying to build another room so that they weren’t all sleeping together. He was also out looking for work.
I brought all the older boys around him and introduced them. We discussed what they could do to help them. They had some leftover bread from breakfast and we put together other things we had available. They put it in a wheel barrow and escorted him home.
The next day the little ones and I made doughnuts and had plenty left over to share with the orphanage next door and then some. Some of the girls decided to share with a couple of widows in the area so we added some maze and they went off.
They came back with this story…
One of the widows had 3 children. She had been sick for 2 months and was too thin. She was cooking some cabbage and greens that she had gathered. Her little boy was eating sand. She didn’t have clothes but was wrapped in a capalana (a piece of cloth used for a skirt and many other things). Her house was made of sticks with plastic on the roof and capalanas for the walls. When they went inside they were so sad to find no mat and just a little rag for a blanket. It is so cold here now that I sleep under 2 blankets. We got a little care package together for her, a blanket and some food. We will bring her to the clinic and see what meds she needs. When I mentioned this story to Mangueze he lit up and responded, “We can fix her house Saturday.” Mariza told me that when she walks by her place on the way to school this lady always greets her warmly. She told me that she is a thankful person.
In June the children built a house from bottom to top for a widower whose house fell down in the area; boys and girls together doing simple construction. We used some of the material from his old house and some things not being used around our house. Mangueze took his old house apart and used the material from that also. It was so good for them to be able to give. They all had a lot of fun helping, even the little ones got involved.
I can’t get directly involved with the widows here. If I visit their homes it’s just an invitation for banditos. They think I may have left something of value there. Z (the young lady who stayed with us for 9 months) developed a relationship with a couple of the widowers as well as widows. One was in his 80’s, a rare sight, precious. She left her mattress for him. He suggested us sneak it to his daughter’s place and then he could get it to his place after dark so no one would see. He had never in his life slept on a mattress. It was fun to ask him how he slept.
I have a dear friend who just started an organization for widows. The Lord has been directing her and connecting her with the right people to help here and I am one of them. I have direct contact with widows and I don’t have to go looking for them. The children are a great help with this and it’s very good for their character to give. So it is good for all.
We have had 2 widows become a part of our family in the past couple of months. The first one to come, Maria, was so destitute; rarely had I seen someone so hopeless. She couldn’t pay her rent and wanted to do some work. I put her in the garden and she was better than a tiller. We now have a huge garden full of growing things. The boys are responsible to care their own plots. It was wonderful to watch hope grow in this precious widow as well. Sometimes she brings her blind mother to help by caring for her baby while she works. They are all very grateful.
The next one to come, Vinny, had been kicked out of her house for not paying rent. She came with her 5 little boys and just a capalana full of their possessions. The landlord locked her belongings up to get some pay from her. She basically had nothing. We put her up temporarily and she was a real blessing to the boys, cooking and cleaning. Social Service has agreed to do something to help her but that could take a long time so we used some money from my friend’s organization to rent another house and get some needed household items. She still comes sometimes to visit and help.
It doesn’t take much money to help a widow here. Their rent is usually between 5 and 10 USD a month. To fix up a house can cost from 10 to 20 USD. Their diets are simple and they don’t need much to be satisfied or even happy. They also are hard workers so finding them something to do is very helpful.
Flora and Dominga got stranded in Dondo the other night and had to sleep with a poor family that they were visiting for the day. I asked Flora how she slept, knowing it wasn’t quite as nice as her own bed. I was laughing as she told me about it, really, I should have been crying. There were no blankets. She slept on a rice sack. At night the bugs come up from the ground and feast on those sleeping. At first she thought they were mosquitoes. When she realized what they were it was about 4AM and she got up and just stood around shivering in her capalana until she and Dominga could get going. She was so grateful to be home that she made dinner and popcorn for us. Sometimes they forget how it used to be for them before they came to my place and it is good for them to experience it now and then. Most people live like this and accept it because they have nothing else to compare it with.
Leaving Moz
July 27, 2010
Every time I travel coming or going out of Moz it never fails that major things happen just before I leave. This time was the worst.
First Social Service pulled a fast one on me requiring me to have a police report and an office space for them to sit in when they come for a visit. The office space isn’t such a problem but the police report turned into one as time was shortened by the last minute problems. I had intended to submit it on my way to the airport the next morning but it never happened.
The night before I left during a grand send off for me that the children were putting on I got news that one of my guards had been attacked by thieves on his way to work. He was miraculously saved. The thieves intended to kill him but he fought like Samson. There were 3 of them, 1 with a machete and another with a dagger. They dragged him into a rice field to kill him but something amazing happened. One man from the houses in the area decided to do something and gathered some others to help. I call this amazing because people usually just watch or turn away for fear of getting hurt or killed themselves. Jose was badly cut up and bruised but alive. Joseph took him to the hospital while we prayed and then continued the party. The next morning before I left I went to visit him and prayed a prayer of thanks giving. He knows well that God spared his life.
On the way to visit him I had to bring one of my girls to the local clinic. She had been sick with constipation for 5 days and not said anything until that night before. I never made it to do the police report. SS will have to wait on that one until I return.
On top of all of this I had planned to complete my packing after everyone was in bed. I managed to get some important things off my computer onto my jump drive and had begun packing when the electricity went out; so I slept. My suitcase was packed hurriedly in the morning with clean and dirty clothes crumpled up together and other stuff in chaos. When I arrived in Joburg and opened it I was very ashamed. Everything smelled musty and everything was damp. I was glad to be able to wash it all and pack properly before traveling to countries that wouldn’t understand these things.
Oh yeah… I almost forgot the last bit of trouble. One of the widows placed an old plastic sack with 3 beautiful raw stones in my hand. Her son gets them up north and sells them to whites. She thought I might be able to use them in the jewelry we were making. I just stuffed them into my carry-on. When the bag was checked at customs through the new x-ray machine they saw them. There’s a lady in uniform there that I had had a run in with before and she was elated that she had caught this white criminal smuggling, whatever these things were, out of the country. This lady has a reputation of working bribes out of foreigners. She never gets anything out of me though and I am sure it is a challenge to her. She walked me very slowly to the other end of the airport. I asked her where we were going and she said through glaring eyes that she was taking me to see her boss. “What room? Let’s go! I’ve got a plane to catch.” I walked faster, my plane had arrived and I had little time to mess around with this stuff. The language barrier was a hindrance so they asked me to go get Joseph. I had to run through the airport and up the stairs to get him as he was waiting with the children to see my plane take off. We ran back to the waiting interrogators. He told them the same story as they watched me with eyes that had watched too many detective movies. Finally they let me go leaving those precious stones behind.
Whew! The rest of my journey has been quite boring.
Every time I travel coming or going out of Moz it never fails that major things happen just before I leave. This time was the worst.
First Social Service pulled a fast one on me requiring me to have a police report and an office space for them to sit in when they come for a visit. The office space isn’t such a problem but the police report turned into one as time was shortened by the last minute problems. I had intended to submit it on my way to the airport the next morning but it never happened.
The night before I left during a grand send off for me that the children were putting on I got news that one of my guards had been attacked by thieves on his way to work. He was miraculously saved. The thieves intended to kill him but he fought like Samson. There were 3 of them, 1 with a machete and another with a dagger. They dragged him into a rice field to kill him but something amazing happened. One man from the houses in the area decided to do something and gathered some others to help. I call this amazing because people usually just watch or turn away for fear of getting hurt or killed themselves. Jose was badly cut up and bruised but alive. Joseph took him to the hospital while we prayed and then continued the party. The next morning before I left I went to visit him and prayed a prayer of thanks giving. He knows well that God spared his life.
On the way to visit him I had to bring one of my girls to the local clinic. She had been sick with constipation for 5 days and not said anything until that night before. I never made it to do the police report. SS will have to wait on that one until I return.
On top of all of this I had planned to complete my packing after everyone was in bed. I managed to get some important things off my computer onto my jump drive and had begun packing when the electricity went out; so I slept. My suitcase was packed hurriedly in the morning with clean and dirty clothes crumpled up together and other stuff in chaos. When I arrived in Joburg and opened it I was very ashamed. Everything smelled musty and everything was damp. I was glad to be able to wash it all and pack properly before traveling to countries that wouldn’t understand these things.
Oh yeah… I almost forgot the last bit of trouble. One of the widows placed an old plastic sack with 3 beautiful raw stones in my hand. Her son gets them up north and sells them to whites. She thought I might be able to use them in the jewelry we were making. I just stuffed them into my carry-on. When the bag was checked at customs through the new x-ray machine they saw them. There’s a lady in uniform there that I had had a run in with before and she was elated that she had caught this white criminal smuggling, whatever these things were, out of the country. This lady has a reputation of working bribes out of foreigners. She never gets anything out of me though and I am sure it is a challenge to her. She walked me very slowly to the other end of the airport. I asked her where we were going and she said through glaring eyes that she was taking me to see her boss. “What room? Let’s go! I’ve got a plane to catch.” I walked faster, my plane had arrived and I had little time to mess around with this stuff. The language barrier was a hindrance so they asked me to go get Joseph. I had to run through the airport and up the stairs to get him as he was waiting with the children to see my plane take off. We ran back to the waiting interrogators. He told them the same story as they watched me with eyes that had watched too many detective movies. Finally they let me go leaving those precious stones behind.
Whew! The rest of my journey has been quite boring.
Time management among the poor
July 2010
This has been one of those 12 hour stints that merits a writing.
It started with my commitment to bring Esstnut to a drop off place to catch a ride at 3 AM to Zimbabwe. I hadn’t planned on taking Enes to the hospital the night before but I did. She was very sick again, so a trip to the hospital began the 12 hours. We stayed at the hospital from 6PM to 10:30 waiting for blood tests and getting proper meds. We were very grateful not to have another stay in the hospital. After getting home at about 11, I managed to grab a couple hours of sleep before the alarm woke me for my next trip to Beira to fetch Essnut. When I went to the van I found my guard sleeping soundly in the back seat. (I will deal with that one later)
As I turned the corner to Essnut’s place I found a sea of mud. Usually it’s dry to a certain place and then I wait for her to come to me. Sometimes the water is shallow and because I have never had a problem there before I made a go for it; big mistake. I did manage to get to a little island in the middle of it but turning around proved to be impossible and we were stuck in the mud. Dauce was with me and told me that he thought I was on the wrong road and that really goofed me up. Then Essnut came and settled that I was in the right place and she had never seen it this way either. I guess a water main broke and made a big mess. So here I am rocking back and forth surrounded by mud and little cement and mud houses making quite a ruckus. The police came and kept watch so no banditos would take advantage of us while Essnut went for some help. Now it is about 3AM and the only people brave enough to come out of their homes are banditos and police, well… then there’s me just trying to help my sister. Essnut managed to get 3 men to come if only she would pay them 100mts which is equal to 3US (that would be one dollar a person ). Yes I will pay! We got out and then the police asked for their share for doing their duty. I did give them 1.50USD and they were not very happy but understanding anyway. Evidently there are too many banditos in that area and that was the reason I was there to pick up Essnut anyway.
We made it to the drop off house and found them not quite ready so we waited in the van for a bit longer. By the time Dauce and I made it home the roosters were already announcing the arrival of a new day, even though it was still very dark. On my way through the girl’s yard I found my other guard sprawled out, sound asleep on a chair. (I will deal with that one later, too) I went to bed around 4:30 exhausted. I woke at around 8 with yet another trip to take to Beira. The only thing that got me up was knowing that the next day was Sabbath and I do take it seriously.
Every Friday morning I take Laz and Davi to their Special Ed class and while they are there some boys do the weekly shopping at the market. I had to drag myself to the van with a few “mama, I need this and thats” along the way. When I got to the van I found a neighbor there asking me to take him and his very sick daughter to the hospital. Last month I did the same thing for another one of his daughters and she died the same day. They both had AIDS. No problem, I go right past it on my way to my other destinations. I put him in the van and told him there would be no time for baths or any preparation because we were late getting to the class for Davi. We got to his place to find everyone still sitting around and no one really prepared to do anything except wash up and eat. He hadn’t told anyone to prepare or that he was even asking me to help. I waited for a bit and then realized that this could go on for an hour and Davi would miss his class. I am laughing right now to think that most of the time raising my children in the US I lived in this time crunch, piecing events together like a puzzle and if they didn’t fit being very stressed out. I told him that I couldn’t take him but would help him get her there by chapa. It amazed me that they would rather carry her a quarter kilometer and struggle on and off the chapa instead of rush out the door taking advantage of this good deal. I was truly amazed. “What! We don’t have time to wash our faces!” Washing faces is always attached to other prep things and can go on for a long time.
So I looked into my heart after all this exchange of communication and driving away without this dying lady in the van and wondered where I was and who I was. Is my heart hard? Did they think I was crazy living like a rushed westerner here among the poor? Well, I was grumpy… I hadn’t slept well… Do they understand such things? Maybe I was teaching them a good lesson…
This has been one of those 12 hour stints that merits a writing.
It started with my commitment to bring Esstnut to a drop off place to catch a ride at 3 AM to Zimbabwe. I hadn’t planned on taking Enes to the hospital the night before but I did. She was very sick again, so a trip to the hospital began the 12 hours. We stayed at the hospital from 6PM to 10:30 waiting for blood tests and getting proper meds. We were very grateful not to have another stay in the hospital. After getting home at about 11, I managed to grab a couple hours of sleep before the alarm woke me for my next trip to Beira to fetch Essnut. When I went to the van I found my guard sleeping soundly in the back seat. (I will deal with that one later)
As I turned the corner to Essnut’s place I found a sea of mud. Usually it’s dry to a certain place and then I wait for her to come to me. Sometimes the water is shallow and because I have never had a problem there before I made a go for it; big mistake. I did manage to get to a little island in the middle of it but turning around proved to be impossible and we were stuck in the mud. Dauce was with me and told me that he thought I was on the wrong road and that really goofed me up. Then Essnut came and settled that I was in the right place and she had never seen it this way either. I guess a water main broke and made a big mess. So here I am rocking back and forth surrounded by mud and little cement and mud houses making quite a ruckus. The police came and kept watch so no banditos would take advantage of us while Essnut went for some help. Now it is about 3AM and the only people brave enough to come out of their homes are banditos and police, well… then there’s me just trying to help my sister. Essnut managed to get 3 men to come if only she would pay them 100mts which is equal to 3US (that would be one dollar a person ). Yes I will pay! We got out and then the police asked for their share for doing their duty. I did give them 1.50USD and they were not very happy but understanding anyway. Evidently there are too many banditos in that area and that was the reason I was there to pick up Essnut anyway.
We made it to the drop off house and found them not quite ready so we waited in the van for a bit longer. By the time Dauce and I made it home the roosters were already announcing the arrival of a new day, even though it was still very dark. On my way through the girl’s yard I found my other guard sprawled out, sound asleep on a chair. (I will deal with that one later, too) I went to bed around 4:30 exhausted. I woke at around 8 with yet another trip to take to Beira. The only thing that got me up was knowing that the next day was Sabbath and I do take it seriously.
Every Friday morning I take Laz and Davi to their Special Ed class and while they are there some boys do the weekly shopping at the market. I had to drag myself to the van with a few “mama, I need this and thats” along the way. When I got to the van I found a neighbor there asking me to take him and his very sick daughter to the hospital. Last month I did the same thing for another one of his daughters and she died the same day. They both had AIDS. No problem, I go right past it on my way to my other destinations. I put him in the van and told him there would be no time for baths or any preparation because we were late getting to the class for Davi. We got to his place to find everyone still sitting around and no one really prepared to do anything except wash up and eat. He hadn’t told anyone to prepare or that he was even asking me to help. I waited for a bit and then realized that this could go on for an hour and Davi would miss his class. I am laughing right now to think that most of the time raising my children in the US I lived in this time crunch, piecing events together like a puzzle and if they didn’t fit being very stressed out. I told him that I couldn’t take him but would help him get her there by chapa. It amazed me that they would rather carry her a quarter kilometer and struggle on and off the chapa instead of rush out the door taking advantage of this good deal. I was truly amazed. “What! We don’t have time to wash our faces!” Washing faces is always attached to other prep things and can go on for a long time.
So I looked into my heart after all this exchange of communication and driving away without this dying lady in the van and wondered where I was and who I was. Is my heart hard? Did they think I was crazy living like a rushed westerner here among the poor? Well, I was grumpy… I hadn’t slept well… Do they understand such things? Maybe I was teaching them a good lesson…
Monday, July 13, 2009
Rice Harvest
Harvesting Rice
I can hear the pounding of the pole in the large mortar just as the sun rises, which would be about 5:30. My neighbor woman must remove the hulls from the rice while it is just the right humidity. Rice, along with maze is a staple here; they grow them both. Just down the dirt road that runs by our place is an enormous field partitioned off to various women for planting rice. The month of June, beginning the dry season, is harvest time. I can see women everyday walk past with enormous sacks of rice on their heads, maybe up to 30 or 40 kgs, many with babies on their backs. Sometimes my children offer to help them carry it to their homes or up the road to catch a chapa. If I am driving during this time of day I will offer to transport them, sometimes very old woman carrying too much on their heads. They are always grateful.
When they get it home they must take a portion and cook it then they spread it out on a capalana (the cloth they use for skirts and many other things) and let it dry in the sun before removing the hulls. As it is drying they must make sure the chickens don’t mess with it and in it.
The harvest was great this year. The rains had come at opportune times and the stocks were loaded. Unfortunately heavy rains also had come at an inopportune time during harvest causing the remaining stocks to lie down in the water and be lost.
Seasons and rhythm are keys to life here and rice is no exception. Watching them pound the hulls off is quite a site. Sometimes 2 women or children will have their poles going for a long time without hitting the other like hands on a drum. After the hulls are mostly off they toss it in a flat basket to let the hulls blow away or shake off the edge. This is another rhythm that takes talent; shaking and tossing just to the edge of the basket, not loosing a grain of rice but just the hulls.
I can hear the pounding of the pole in the large mortar just as the sun rises, which would be about 5:30. My neighbor woman must remove the hulls from the rice while it is just the right humidity. Rice, along with maze is a staple here; they grow them both. Just down the dirt road that runs by our place is an enormous field partitioned off to various women for planting rice. The month of June, beginning the dry season, is harvest time. I can see women everyday walk past with enormous sacks of rice on their heads, maybe up to 30 or 40 kgs, many with babies on their backs. Sometimes my children offer to help them carry it to their homes or up the road to catch a chapa. If I am driving during this time of day I will offer to transport them, sometimes very old woman carrying too much on their heads. They are always grateful.
When they get it home they must take a portion and cook it then they spread it out on a capalana (the cloth they use for skirts and many other things) and let it dry in the sun before removing the hulls. As it is drying they must make sure the chickens don’t mess with it and in it.
The harvest was great this year. The rains had come at opportune times and the stocks were loaded. Unfortunately heavy rains also had come at an inopportune time during harvest causing the remaining stocks to lie down in the water and be lost.
Seasons and rhythm are keys to life here and rice is no exception. Watching them pound the hulls off is quite a site. Sometimes 2 women or children will have their poles going for a long time without hitting the other like hands on a drum. After the hulls are mostly off they toss it in a flat basket to let the hulls blow away or shake off the edge. This is another rhythm that takes talent; shaking and tossing just to the edge of the basket, not loosing a grain of rice but just the hulls.
Hornet's nest
I stuck my hand in a hornet’s nest this week but I saw the Lord use it and the bites don’t bother me much. I went at 5:00 AM with 2 very drunk policemen to arrest the man who had badly abused Joaninina. He was shocked and couldn’t even figure out why the police were looking for him. It was this crazy mama doing something to defend this rebellious little orphan. He had most likely given her AIDS and then when he found she was pregnant casted her aside. Then one of his friends raped her. She was 10 at the time.
After going through the long process of her telling the story with him in the chair beside her and having it hand written in the book and then typed on an old typewriter he was locked up.
His uncle came the next day from a city about 50 miles away to ask me what had happened. He was not angry, just respectful and after hearing the story a bit remorseful. I told him that in my country it is not right to do these things and I wasn’t sure if this was acceptable here. He said it wasn’t right what his 21 year old nephew had done; to take a little girl in as a wife and not take care of her. I could see he was ashamed of the boy that bore his own name. He asked me to meet him the next day at the police station where the boy was.
That night I met with some of my older boys who already knew what was happening because they had assisted me when I picked this man up. They suggested letting the family deal with him which I had already considered because of this uncle. The next morning I met Joseph at the station and that’s where the hornet’s nest was. The boy’s boss was there along with some other family members. The boss was a white Portuguese man with obvious animosity toward us. I told him that my intention was to stop the process and trust his family to deal with him. He calmed down as he saw my heart and later offered to help Joaninia in some way. I remembered in Proverbs, it was written, “A soft answer turns away wrath.” I saw it in action today.
The people there at the domestic dispute office are wonderful and they like me but I am sure I confused them a bit when I requested the process to be stopped. They were so kind to help me in everything. The man dealing with it called his superior. She was at the other office in the city so I had to go pick her up and after writing a letter requesting the process to be stopped I drove her back. She was a lovely lady.
After all was said and done I drove the uncle back with us to Manga and dropped him off where he was staying. He tells us he will see us at our church on Sunday. I wondered if he would bring his nephew. Now, that would be strange wouldn’t it?
I suppose some people in my home country wouldn’t understand this compromise but here where children have little value it is unusual to bring this kind of thing to court. The community is something like a big family here and I was a bit afraid of the reaction of it. Women may secretly love me for doing what I did but most people will not understand.
Usually the process of things here takes a long time and frustrates me but this morning I was grateful that the documents I had done earlier this week had not been passed on to others that appoint a court date. The others involved I am sure were more grateful than I.
Matthew 5:25-26 says, “When you are on your way to court with your adversary settle your differences quickly. Otherwise, your accuser may hand you over to the judge, who will hand you over to an officer, and you will be thrown into prison, and if that happens you surely won’t be free again until you have paid the last penny. “
In this case the young man going to prison should have never gotten out for the sake of snuffing out the life a of a baby and little girl by giving her AIDS. Prisons here are not merciful; they are vicious. I hope that the shame he has brought to his family and boss will be enough to keep him from continuing to live like this.
As for Joaninia, she is learning to become a little girl here. I am watching her blossom and have great joy in helping others. I bumble my way through many things here but I trust the Lord is helping me to do the right things. Defending her was the right thing to do, for her sake. I saw a vision of a great hand plunging into a heap of stinky garbage and come out with a diamond. This is my Joaninia, she is a precious diamond. She is beginning to live now.
After going through the long process of her telling the story with him in the chair beside her and having it hand written in the book and then typed on an old typewriter he was locked up.
His uncle came the next day from a city about 50 miles away to ask me what had happened. He was not angry, just respectful and after hearing the story a bit remorseful. I told him that in my country it is not right to do these things and I wasn’t sure if this was acceptable here. He said it wasn’t right what his 21 year old nephew had done; to take a little girl in as a wife and not take care of her. I could see he was ashamed of the boy that bore his own name. He asked me to meet him the next day at the police station where the boy was.
That night I met with some of my older boys who already knew what was happening because they had assisted me when I picked this man up. They suggested letting the family deal with him which I had already considered because of this uncle. The next morning I met Joseph at the station and that’s where the hornet’s nest was. The boy’s boss was there along with some other family members. The boss was a white Portuguese man with obvious animosity toward us. I told him that my intention was to stop the process and trust his family to deal with him. He calmed down as he saw my heart and later offered to help Joaninia in some way. I remembered in Proverbs, it was written, “A soft answer turns away wrath.” I saw it in action today.
The people there at the domestic dispute office are wonderful and they like me but I am sure I confused them a bit when I requested the process to be stopped. They were so kind to help me in everything. The man dealing with it called his superior. She was at the other office in the city so I had to go pick her up and after writing a letter requesting the process to be stopped I drove her back. She was a lovely lady.
After all was said and done I drove the uncle back with us to Manga and dropped him off where he was staying. He tells us he will see us at our church on Sunday. I wondered if he would bring his nephew. Now, that would be strange wouldn’t it?
I suppose some people in my home country wouldn’t understand this compromise but here where children have little value it is unusual to bring this kind of thing to court. The community is something like a big family here and I was a bit afraid of the reaction of it. Women may secretly love me for doing what I did but most people will not understand.
Usually the process of things here takes a long time and frustrates me but this morning I was grateful that the documents I had done earlier this week had not been passed on to others that appoint a court date. The others involved I am sure were more grateful than I.
Matthew 5:25-26 says, “When you are on your way to court with your adversary settle your differences quickly. Otherwise, your accuser may hand you over to the judge, who will hand you over to an officer, and you will be thrown into prison, and if that happens you surely won’t be free again until you have paid the last penny. “
In this case the young man going to prison should have never gotten out for the sake of snuffing out the life a of a baby and little girl by giving her AIDS. Prisons here are not merciful; they are vicious. I hope that the shame he has brought to his family and boss will be enough to keep him from continuing to live like this.
As for Joaninia, she is learning to become a little girl here. I am watching her blossom and have great joy in helping others. I bumble my way through many things here but I trust the Lord is helping me to do the right things. Defending her was the right thing to do, for her sake. I saw a vision of a great hand plunging into a heap of stinky garbage and come out with a diamond. This is my Joaninia, she is a precious diamond. She is beginning to live now.
Thursday, July 9, 2009
Life at the Girls Home
I haven’t laughed that hard in a long time. The girls were sharing their dreams and then it somehow went into how the village people respond to them being a bit special. They are called the Kedesh girls. Kedesh is the orphanage that is strictly boys just across the path from our place. I suppose it is ok for John to get credit for all my hard work as long as it is good credit. Really I can see so much of God’s protection and their feeling cared for by the boys of Kedesh as well as their own brothers at HoB.
Some men talk about how they would like to have one of my girls but they are always in a group and they are not able to talk with just one. One young man tried to get Julia to help him with his English lessons while Deonicio, who is very good with English was right there. He hounded the guy until he left Julia alone. Sometimes the men will do a hissing sound to get their attention. If our boys are around they either rebuke them or act like it is them that they are hissing at. They have some fun with it while our girls keep on walking.
The stories include men calling them and following them and what they hear them saying as well as those protecting them. Papa has actually marched out to rebuke those men at times. One time when he was walking from school with some of the girls a man grabbed an arm of one of the girls. After Papa was finished with him I would be surprised if he ever touched another girl. Most girls in Moz actually like attention from men. If my girls do they are hiding it very well. Some have actually come home in tears after being harassed. Usually, though there will be a Kedesh, or HoB boy there to defend them. What a blessing they are! Moz is not a place where girls are respected; they are usually taken advantage of at an early age. It is the way of life here.
While the girls are sharing Joaninia is hanging on my shoulder playing with my hair. I don’t know what was going through her head. She was not protected; she was taken advantage of at an early age. She refused to walk in the protection of the group. A little rebellion goes a long way here. Tomorrow I will take her to the AIDS clinic and get her connected with the program there. Before I do, though, I will go with the police to get the man who abused her and bring him to jail. This is something I had not planned to do because it’s too messy here to do such things but a couple of weeks ago this man was harassing her about having his baby and it dying. He considered her suffering a joke. I got angry. Should he be free to continue doing such things? I felt it was right to go after him and bring justice to the orphan.
I did what some people may consider foolish and others heroic this morning. I drove to the police station at 5:00 AM and picked up 2 very drunk policemen and sent one of my girls and one of my boys with them to get the man who had bragged in the open market near us about having made Joaninia pregnant and her baby dying. He didn’t brag, though, about giving her diseases; one of them being AIDS.
It was troubling to me but my boys said that I did the right thing. I returned to my bed and asked for something in the Bible to justify what I had done. The word “defend” came to mind and I found in Isaiah chapter 1 verse 17 and 23: Lear n to do good, seek justice, rebuke the oppressor, defend the fatherless, plead for the widow. Your princes are rebellious and companions of thieves; everyone loves bribes, and follows after rewards. They do not defend the fatherless, nor does the cause of the widow come before them.
I did the right thing.
Some men talk about how they would like to have one of my girls but they are always in a group and they are not able to talk with just one. One young man tried to get Julia to help him with his English lessons while Deonicio, who is very good with English was right there. He hounded the guy until he left Julia alone. Sometimes the men will do a hissing sound to get their attention. If our boys are around they either rebuke them or act like it is them that they are hissing at. They have some fun with it while our girls keep on walking.
The stories include men calling them and following them and what they hear them saying as well as those protecting them. Papa has actually marched out to rebuke those men at times. One time when he was walking from school with some of the girls a man grabbed an arm of one of the girls. After Papa was finished with him I would be surprised if he ever touched another girl. Most girls in Moz actually like attention from men. If my girls do they are hiding it very well. Some have actually come home in tears after being harassed. Usually, though there will be a Kedesh, or HoB boy there to defend them. What a blessing they are! Moz is not a place where girls are respected; they are usually taken advantage of at an early age. It is the way of life here.
While the girls are sharing Joaninia is hanging on my shoulder playing with my hair. I don’t know what was going through her head. She was not protected; she was taken advantage of at an early age. She refused to walk in the protection of the group. A little rebellion goes a long way here. Tomorrow I will take her to the AIDS clinic and get her connected with the program there. Before I do, though, I will go with the police to get the man who abused her and bring him to jail. This is something I had not planned to do because it’s too messy here to do such things but a couple of weeks ago this man was harassing her about having his baby and it dying. He considered her suffering a joke. I got angry. Should he be free to continue doing such things? I felt it was right to go after him and bring justice to the orphan.
I did what some people may consider foolish and others heroic this morning. I drove to the police station at 5:00 AM and picked up 2 very drunk policemen and sent one of my girls and one of my boys with them to get the man who had bragged in the open market near us about having made Joaninia pregnant and her baby dying. He didn’t brag, though, about giving her diseases; one of them being AIDS.
It was troubling to me but my boys said that I did the right thing. I returned to my bed and asked for something in the Bible to justify what I had done. The word “defend” came to mind and I found in Isaiah chapter 1 verse 17 and 23: Lear n to do good, seek justice, rebuke the oppressor, defend the fatherless, plead for the widow. Your princes are rebellious and companions of thieves; everyone loves bribes, and follows after rewards. They do not defend the fatherless, nor does the cause of the widow come before them.
I did the right thing.
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