In case you hadn't figured it out by our long silence, we have returned to "our home and native land." In this last period of silence, we have visited Johannesburg (for 7 hours - and it's truly a strange story), and Munich and Neuschwanstein (home of Mad King Ludvig - strange little man who died in a shallow lake) in Germany.
The last blog we wrote was a description of travel "inside." The impressions left on us of crossing the Kenyan border northward, however, are not the roads - but the incredible people we met. Men and women of God who are defying the odds, crossing tribal lines, sharing their faith and their dreams with those around them, and inspiring us to do the same. We were privileged beyond words to pray with them, listen to them, urge them on in their work, and be awed and encouraged by their life journeys and their living testimonies.
Now we are over jet-lag and bubbling with stories. Do you want to hear them? We'll be sharing them at Mackenzie Towne Church tomorrow morning at 10:00am (that's Sunday, September 2), with pictures and maybe music and a little dancing (okay, not likely the dancing...).
If you are interested in hearing some stories and can't make it tomorrow, feel free to contact us via email or phone. We are still VERY MUCH enjoying western food and would love to chat over dessert or some such nummy treat.
Saturday, September 1, 2007
Friday, August 10, 2007
Indescribable
I truly have no idea how to summarize the past four weeks. I will try to do it in a number of short blogs at a time, just so you get the most interesting parts in a somehow organized fashion.
It has no rhyme scheme, no pattern for stanzas, and is not edited. Bear with me.
SOUTH SUDAN SLIDING
Gravel road touching the horizon
Either side a vast wasteland
Shrubs and trees
Sand
Termite mounds reaching to the sky
Solitary soldier by the wayside
AK47 slung casually over his shoulder
Gives a nod, not a smile, but a greeting
Silent
Disappearing slowly 'round the bend
Children, wearing only robes
Herd the cattle and the goats o'er the road
Women carry water jugs on their heads
Beaded necklaces from shoulder to chin
Topless
Babies tied to their backs
Tiny towns of round mud huts
Children shouting, waving, chasing as you pass
Mothers nursing babies beneath shady trees
Buildings bombed
Dust whirling beneath your wheels as you go
Roadside scenery changing slowly
From desolate desert to waving green grass
Palm trees alone, standing against the backdrop of the mountains
Birds of all colours of the rainbow flitting to and fro
Roadside turnout...the gravel is left behind.
Now the bumping begins in earnest
Every spin of the tires drops you into a mudhole
Tires kick up thick black mud, sliding and fishtailing
And a river...down you go...water splashing over the windshield
Trucks, heavy and burdened, sunken into the mudholes
Forever to rust
Three hours! Your back is aching
Puddles glisten, thick mud hiding their depths
Men and children bathe in the water through which you pass
Staring
Splashing.
The long grasses part and there stands
An old woman
Bamboo propped on her head,
A smoking pipe in her toothless smiling mouth
The cloth she wears draped loosely over her shoulder and bare feet.
It is a world unknown. Untouched.
Surprising in its simplicity.
No pavement mars the mudholed path.
No electric wires split the blue, blue sky.
The fingers of technology and "civilization" have not come.
And maybe will not come.
And maybe should not come.
***
Okay, I know it's not a real poem. But real sentences would simply take too long and not convey any of it.
Maybe later this weekend we'll give you something of the people we met...
It has no rhyme scheme, no pattern for stanzas, and is not edited. Bear with me.
SOUTH SUDAN SLIDING
Gravel road touching the horizon
Either side a vast wasteland
Shrubs and trees
Sand
Termite mounds reaching to the sky
Solitary soldier by the wayside
AK47 slung casually over his shoulder
Gives a nod, not a smile, but a greeting
Silent
Disappearing slowly 'round the bend
Children, wearing only robes
Herd the cattle and the goats o'er the road
Women carry water jugs on their heads
Beaded necklaces from shoulder to chin
Topless
Babies tied to their backs
Tiny towns of round mud huts
Children shouting, waving, chasing as you pass
Mothers nursing babies beneath shady trees
Buildings bombed
Dust whirling beneath your wheels as you go
Roadside scenery changing slowly
From desolate desert to waving green grass
Palm trees alone, standing against the backdrop of the mountains
Birds of all colours of the rainbow flitting to and fro
Roadside turnout...the gravel is left behind.
Now the bumping begins in earnest
Every spin of the tires drops you into a mudhole
Tires kick up thick black mud, sliding and fishtailing
And a river...down you go...water splashing over the windshield
Trucks, heavy and burdened, sunken into the mudholes
Forever to rust
Three hours! Your back is aching
Puddles glisten, thick mud hiding their depths
Men and children bathe in the water through which you pass
Staring
Splashing.
The long grasses part and there stands
An old woman
Bamboo propped on her head,
A smoking pipe in her toothless smiling mouth
The cloth she wears draped loosely over her shoulder and bare feet.
It is a world unknown. Untouched.
Surprising in its simplicity.
No pavement mars the mudholed path.
No electric wires split the blue, blue sky.
The fingers of technology and "civilization" have not come.
And maybe will not come.
And maybe should not come.
***
Okay, I know it's not a real poem. But real sentences would simply take too long and not convey any of it.
Maybe later this weekend we'll give you something of the people we met...
Sunday, July 22, 2007
Slum Bishop
Our days in Nairobi have been full of rest and new sights. Western food is a relief - I didn't realize how much we westerners rely on variety in our meals! Ice cream especially is a treat. We are mingling with missionaries from all over the world - Taiwan, New Zealand, USA, England, Ireland, Canada, etc. Yesterday we took a day trip to the Masaii Market for a little "shopping" - and found that it's sometimes difficult to shake some of these salesmen when they really want to sell you something, even if you don't want it!
Today we went to a church in the slums of Nairobi - in fact, the second largest slum in the continent of Africa. It's called Kibera. A million people live in one small area - check the pictures to see the amount of people milling the streets! Incredible. Bishop Timothy, a dear friend of Gord and Carole's, has started a huge ministry here and his church has already birthed some 50 churches across Kenya. He has a number of schools for orphans and they feed 2000 orphans 3 meals a day every day!!! Without asking for money! This is definitely miraculous. He is also running several Bible schools and sending pastors out into a variety of areas. Timothy has been robbed several times, including one break-and-entry into his home while his children were around. His response? "I have two options: either I die and go to be with the Lord, or I continue to serve the Lord here. Both are good options!"
So very true.
Today we went to a church in the slums of Nairobi - in fact, the second largest slum in the continent of Africa. It's called Kibera. A million people live in one small area - check the pictures to see the amount of people milling the streets! Incredible. Bishop Timothy, a dear friend of Gord and Carole's, has started a huge ministry here and his church has already birthed some 50 churches across Kenya. He has a number of schools for orphans and they feed 2000 orphans 3 meals a day every day!!! Without asking for money! This is definitely miraculous. He is also running several Bible schools and sending pastors out into a variety of areas. Timothy has been robbed several times, including one break-and-entry into his home while his children were around. His response? "I have two options: either I die and go to be with the Lord, or I continue to serve the Lord here. Both are good options!"
So very true.
Friday, July 20, 2007
Part Two
TRAVELING MERCIES!!!
We have said goodbye to Bukoba and now have said goodbye to half of our team. According to Gordon, our team leader, after we leave Nairobi we will be saying goodbye to most comforts as well and saying hello to some mud huts, tents, hiking and rough roads as we prepare to head into South Sudan.
If the last twenty hours on the road are any indication of what we will be traveling on, please pray for my motion sickness. The main highway between Nairobi and Kampala was one of the roughest "paved roads" I have been on in a while. A large portion of it is under construction and is now dirt, though it was hard to tell when you left the pavement anyways. The trip was supposed to take 12 hours but, due to the mix of construction and a bad rain storm, a few big trucks got a little stuck and blocked the highway for about 3 hours. It also took another hour to squeeze past the line of trucks and buses on the other side of the mess. Wow.
To top this off, the border between Uganda and Kenya was closed when we arrived four hours late. So our bus driver took the back way around to the gate, passed across into Kenya, dropped us off and told us to walk back into Uganda to the closed immigration office and wait for the "man with the keys" to stamp us out of Uganda so that the open office on the Kenyan side could stamp us into Kenya.
It brings back memories of sleeping on the side of a mountain in China because of a broken down truck and the lack of space between the truck and a seemingly endless cliff. Last night there were no cliffs but I am pretty sure that if I dropped something the thickness of a quarter between the mirrors or bumpers of these trucks going opposite directions the quarter would get stuck. These drivers truly leave no room for error.
THOUGHTS ON BUKOBA
As I think back to my time in Bukoba, the things that stand out the most are the people and the friendships we made. Then I think about missions and what our role is, as the "Rich North American" (because, in comparison to the Africans we have met, we are all loaded, even in our own North American context). Those involved in ministry and the friends we made do not want us simply to send them a cheque. Yes, they do want our money, but they want more than that. They want to be in relationship with us. This is largely because, in African mindset, friends and finances go hand in hand.
When I compare our individualistic culture with their community mentality I do not understand Africans as much as they do not understand me. How they deal with money and how we handle money are as far apart as our countries are physically. The question remains, what is the best way to close that gap? You cannot spend a lot of time in Africa (though two months is not really a lot of time) and not begin to question what is the best use of money. Are we right in our western, time-oriented "save save save" world ? Are the Africans right in their "respond to what you see is the most pressing need?" I know we as North Americans think we are right! But I am learning it is about what we perceive as needs.
I know my answer. Having running water! (Though helping my friends are pretty high, I want to pay my bills)
In Africa, it seems having a TV or helping a friend often comes before having running water. Since this seems to be the order they get it. I can't count how many times I went to turn the taps on and nothing came out. Yet they all had cable!
Our perceived needs are different. Who's right?
The two things I am looking forward to most:
One on one with Gordon and Carole and Crystal and I
And visiting a leadership training center that is in its second year of becoming a reality
Stay tuned!
We have said goodbye to Bukoba and now have said goodbye to half of our team. According to Gordon, our team leader, after we leave Nairobi we will be saying goodbye to most comforts as well and saying hello to some mud huts, tents, hiking and rough roads as we prepare to head into South Sudan.
If the last twenty hours on the road are any indication of what we will be traveling on, please pray for my motion sickness. The main highway between Nairobi and Kampala was one of the roughest "paved roads" I have been on in a while. A large portion of it is under construction and is now dirt, though it was hard to tell when you left the pavement anyways. The trip was supposed to take 12 hours but, due to the mix of construction and a bad rain storm, a few big trucks got a little stuck and blocked the highway for about 3 hours. It also took another hour to squeeze past the line of trucks and buses on the other side of the mess. Wow.
To top this off, the border between Uganda and Kenya was closed when we arrived four hours late. So our bus driver took the back way around to the gate, passed across into Kenya, dropped us off and told us to walk back into Uganda to the closed immigration office and wait for the "man with the keys" to stamp us out of Uganda so that the open office on the Kenyan side could stamp us into Kenya.
It brings back memories of sleeping on the side of a mountain in China because of a broken down truck and the lack of space between the truck and a seemingly endless cliff. Last night there were no cliffs but I am pretty sure that if I dropped something the thickness of a quarter between the mirrors or bumpers of these trucks going opposite directions the quarter would get stuck. These drivers truly leave no room for error.
THOUGHTS ON BUKOBA
As I think back to my time in Bukoba, the things that stand out the most are the people and the friendships we made. Then I think about missions and what our role is, as the "Rich North American" (because, in comparison to the Africans we have met, we are all loaded, even in our own North American context). Those involved in ministry and the friends we made do not want us simply to send them a cheque. Yes, they do want our money, but they want more than that. They want to be in relationship with us. This is largely because, in African mindset, friends and finances go hand in hand.
When I compare our individualistic culture with their community mentality I do not understand Africans as much as they do not understand me. How they deal with money and how we handle money are as far apart as our countries are physically. The question remains, what is the best way to close that gap? You cannot spend a lot of time in Africa (though two months is not really a lot of time) and not begin to question what is the best use of money. Are we right in our western, time-oriented "save save save" world ? Are the Africans right in their "respond to what you see is the most pressing need?" I know we as North Americans think we are right! But I am learning it is about what we perceive as needs.
Here are three needs. You can only pick one; what would you pick?
Buying a TV
Having running water
Helping a friend
Buying a TV
Having running water
Helping a friend
I know my answer. Having running water! (Though helping my friends are pretty high, I want to pay my bills)
In Africa, it seems having a TV or helping a friend often comes before having running water. Since this seems to be the order they get it. I can't count how many times I went to turn the taps on and nothing came out. Yet they all had cable!
Our perceived needs are different. Who's right?
The two things I am looking forward to most:
One on one with Gordon and Carole and Crystal and I
And visiting a leadership training center that is in its second year of becoming a reality
Stay tuned!
Wednesday, July 18, 2007
You Can't Do That in Canada
There is another new post below this one, but it is less happy than this one - so you may want to read it first!
So we arrived in Kampala after an incident at the Tanzanian border! That will be saved for another discussion, since there's so much going on and so little time to write. From Kampala, after defying death walking through the wickedly jammed-up streets, we boarded a bus and headed to Jinja for our group activity - white-water rafting on the Nile! Geoff went ATVing along the shores instead, while the seven of us prepared for a real adventure.
Adventure started in Jinja. Following include the things you can't do in Canada - that we DID do in Jinja!
* Ride a boda-boda (tiny motorcycle) side-saddle without helmets through the streets. 8 of us on 8 motorcycles, like a little gang. Kim's broke down eventually and so she sat on the back of mine with me - three of us on this tiny little thing! Can't do that in Canada!
* Ride in the back of a truck, standing up and holding onto metal bars. 8km of crazy bumps through fields of sugar-cane and banana trees.
* Eat real western food in a real western restaurant over-looking the Nile river and listening to monkeys as they chattered about in the trees.
Nile experience - you can't do THAT in Canada either!
* Boarded a 14 food red vessel with a lifted nose and paddle off into the river
* Spun the boat, flipped the boat, swam around the boat, swam UNDER the boat when it was upside-down, floated on our backs in the Nile looking up at the blue Ugandan sky
* Hit class 5 rapids, the highest level you can take even professionally. They are almost completely safe because of the incredible volume of water, but that doesn't mean they are without thrills! First set of class 4 rapids and I was up and out of the boat, floating rapidly downstream with my paddle in hand. My knight in shining kayak rescued me at the nice safe part.
* Next set of rapids - our whole boat flipped and we crashed helmets, paddles, arms and legs as the churning water tossed us around, plunged us down into the waves and spat us back up, sputtering and coughing. Laughter abounded as we reboarded our righted raft later on.
* Hit Silverback Waterfall, 3 meters high, and watched the other rafts simply disappear over the edge. Our hearts pounded as we paddled toward the edge of what we could see, soared rapidly around a rock, and dove nose first into the boiling, frothing hole below. Right-side up, we paddled into a class 3 rapid and came out staring as another raft dove over the edge. Incredible.
* Second flip was more fun for everone else - less fun for me, since something collided with my face and left a pretty Nile Tatoo on my nose (OUCH!). This particular rapid was like being in a washing machine and we grabbed air where we could before smashing into waves again. As we finally drifted - individually - into a smoother water, I caught someone's paddle and then was hauled back into our raft as we rammed into a tree on Bat Island. Bats galore flying overhead, woken up by the smashing of paddles on the calm waters at its shore.
* I wimped out at "The Bad Place" - the last grade 5 waterfall, a converging of three rivers with enormous volumes of water. I've done it before - four years ago - and besides, my face was still hurting from the last toss. Carole and I ran over to a huge rock and watched as our craft expertly crested the wave, dove into the hole and soared safely over the top. Bob's face registered total disappointment that they hadn't flipped - but not to worry, our trusty raft-guide steered them into "the other place" and the boat tossed them like salad into the water there.
* And we even have a video to prove it!
What a team building exercise! It was fantastic to spend time together doing something that didn't require emotional energy but rather caused a healthy physical strain and brought laughter and joy.
So we arrived in Kampala after an incident at the Tanzanian border! That will be saved for another discussion, since there's so much going on and so little time to write. From Kampala, after defying death walking through the wickedly jammed-up streets, we boarded a bus and headed to Jinja for our group activity - white-water rafting on the Nile! Geoff went ATVing along the shores instead, while the seven of us prepared for a real adventure.
Adventure started in Jinja. Following include the things you can't do in Canada - that we DID do in Jinja!
* Ride a boda-boda (tiny motorcycle) side-saddle without helmets through the streets. 8 of us on 8 motorcycles, like a little gang. Kim's broke down eventually and so she sat on the back of mine with me - three of us on this tiny little thing! Can't do that in Canada!
* Ride in the back of a truck, standing up and holding onto metal bars. 8km of crazy bumps through fields of sugar-cane and banana trees.
* Eat real western food in a real western restaurant over-looking the Nile river and listening to monkeys as they chattered about in the trees.
Nile experience - you can't do THAT in Canada either!
* Boarded a 14 food red vessel with a lifted nose and paddle off into the river
* Spun the boat, flipped the boat, swam around the boat, swam UNDER the boat when it was upside-down, floated on our backs in the Nile looking up at the blue Ugandan sky
* Hit class 5 rapids, the highest level you can take even professionally. They are almost completely safe because of the incredible volume of water, but that doesn't mean they are without thrills! First set of class 4 rapids and I was up and out of the boat, floating rapidly downstream with my paddle in hand. My knight in shining kayak rescued me at the nice safe part.
* Next set of rapids - our whole boat flipped and we crashed helmets, paddles, arms and legs as the churning water tossed us around, plunged us down into the waves and spat us back up, sputtering and coughing. Laughter abounded as we reboarded our righted raft later on.
* Hit Silverback Waterfall, 3 meters high, and watched the other rafts simply disappear over the edge. Our hearts pounded as we paddled toward the edge of what we could see, soared rapidly around a rock, and dove nose first into the boiling, frothing hole below. Right-side up, we paddled into a class 3 rapid and came out staring as another raft dove over the edge. Incredible.
* Second flip was more fun for everone else - less fun for me, since something collided with my face and left a pretty Nile Tatoo on my nose (OUCH!). This particular rapid was like being in a washing machine and we grabbed air where we could before smashing into waves again. As we finally drifted - individually - into a smoother water, I caught someone's paddle and then was hauled back into our raft as we rammed into a tree on Bat Island. Bats galore flying overhead, woken up by the smashing of paddles on the calm waters at its shore.
* I wimped out at "The Bad Place" - the last grade 5 waterfall, a converging of three rivers with enormous volumes of water. I've done it before - four years ago - and besides, my face was still hurting from the last toss. Carole and I ran over to a huge rock and watched as our craft expertly crested the wave, dove into the hole and soared safely over the top. Bob's face registered total disappointment that they hadn't flipped - but not to worry, our trusty raft-guide steered them into "the other place" and the boat tossed them like salad into the water there.
* And we even have a video to prove it!
What a team building exercise! It was fantastic to spend time together doing something that didn't require emotional energy but rather caused a healthy physical strain and brought laughter and joy.
Painful Goodbyes
Nothing has prepared us for the grief of saying goodbye to our host families. After only two months of staying, we were not expecting to find it so difficult to leave them behind - knowing that we may never see them again. "Mungu akipenda, tutoanana tena" - "if God wishes, we will see you again" - this was the refrain we heard and said often.
The farewells started on Friday night, after a week of preparation - shopping for gifts for our host families and friends, preparing for packing and travel, discussion about who to support in Tanzania and how to deal with the barrage of financial requests hitting us throughout the week. This was not a deterrent to friendship, as we have learned that in Tanzanian friendships, requesting money does not demonstrate a lack of care or a desire to use you but demonstrates respect and trust. Friday evening, Bob and I took Mama Sweya and her relatives and the children staying in her house out to supper at a fancy restaurant overlooking Bukoba. WHAT an experience! In spite of what we thought was food heaven (western food!), our African friends weren't so keen - especially on coleslaw. We waited an our for our food and gave out wrapped gifts. Ema, age 4, was the first - and didn't respond to the gift as a North American child would but rather with shock and confusion - "what do I do with this?" The other children figured it out as they watched him, and they were bouncing with excitement. Wrapped gifts are very unusual here.
Saturday night another party - this time with our whole team, plus two members from each household, plus some of the extra friends we'd made (some of the church elders, the only bibi - elderly lady - in the church, two women with AIDS that we have befriended and who are now attending the church and being cared for by the pastor's wife and other ladies). After supper (coleslaw again - our host family members avoided it) were the speeches and the emotion was thick - tears from many people, both us North Americans and our African friends. The emotion was surprising again, and very difficult, even though it was evidence of deep friendships that had been formed.
On Sunday we had a real treat! Beth, Kim, Bob and I danced with the choir finally - after weeks of practice and being too shy to actually join them during service. Chris preached, we all sang songs together, and then afterwards joined together for biscuits and sodas. Mama Sweya had decorated the church beautifully and we watched the choir sing for us. A number of our friends had written songs for us, which they sang (some in English and some in Swahili) alone - GUTSY. Tears flowed again. The mamas brought up gifts for the ladies, and the babas for the men, and then our host families brought up gifts for our parents! (So yes, Mom and Dad Wiens and Walker, you guys have gifts from our host parents!).
Monday morning at 6:30 am we all met at the bus station and painful goodbyes continued. At this point, many of us were numb from crying and just wanted to get it over with already! Three days of emotion is too much for anyone. When we finally boarded the bus, we had bags and bags of fried chicken, mandazi, and samosas for the trip - well loaded up for the ride home.
So now that part is over and the debrief has begun. So much to think over and consider. Tomorrow four of our team head to Canada and Bob and I, Gord and Carole, head to Nairobi and then to South Sudan. The adventures continue. I hope you are enjoying the journey with us!
The farewells started on Friday night, after a week of preparation - shopping for gifts for our host families and friends, preparing for packing and travel, discussion about who to support in Tanzania and how to deal with the barrage of financial requests hitting us throughout the week. This was not a deterrent to friendship, as we have learned that in Tanzanian friendships, requesting money does not demonstrate a lack of care or a desire to use you but demonstrates respect and trust. Friday evening, Bob and I took Mama Sweya and her relatives and the children staying in her house out to supper at a fancy restaurant overlooking Bukoba. WHAT an experience! In spite of what we thought was food heaven (western food!), our African friends weren't so keen - especially on coleslaw. We waited an our for our food and gave out wrapped gifts. Ema, age 4, was the first - and didn't respond to the gift as a North American child would but rather with shock and confusion - "what do I do with this?" The other children figured it out as they watched him, and they were bouncing with excitement. Wrapped gifts are very unusual here.
Saturday night another party - this time with our whole team, plus two members from each household, plus some of the extra friends we'd made (some of the church elders, the only bibi - elderly lady - in the church, two women with AIDS that we have befriended and who are now attending the church and being cared for by the pastor's wife and other ladies). After supper (coleslaw again - our host family members avoided it) were the speeches and the emotion was thick - tears from many people, both us North Americans and our African friends. The emotion was surprising again, and very difficult, even though it was evidence of deep friendships that had been formed.
On Sunday we had a real treat! Beth, Kim, Bob and I danced with the choir finally - after weeks of practice and being too shy to actually join them during service. Chris preached, we all sang songs together, and then afterwards joined together for biscuits and sodas. Mama Sweya had decorated the church beautifully and we watched the choir sing for us. A number of our friends had written songs for us, which they sang (some in English and some in Swahili) alone - GUTSY. Tears flowed again. The mamas brought up gifts for the ladies, and the babas for the men, and then our host families brought up gifts for our parents! (So yes, Mom and Dad Wiens and Walker, you guys have gifts from our host parents!).
Monday morning at 6:30 am we all met at the bus station and painful goodbyes continued. At this point, many of us were numb from crying and just wanted to get it over with already! Three days of emotion is too much for anyone. When we finally boarded the bus, we had bags and bags of fried chicken, mandazi, and samosas for the trip - well loaded up for the ride home.
So now that part is over and the debrief has begun. So much to think over and consider. Tomorrow four of our team head to Canada and Bob and I, Gord and Carole, head to Nairobi and then to South Sudan. The adventures continue. I hope you are enjoying the journey with us!
Friday, July 6, 2007
Roof is up!
Talk about a busy three days. It only took three days for from 12 to 20 people to raise 14 rafters up onto the walls of the church. It was a great time to spend more time with some of the guys that we have been helping us with language, as well as some of the builders that have been working on the church since before we arrived. The builders are also the elders of the church plant that this church planted about seven kilometers away. Some of these guys walk the 7km every morning and every evening. It is humbling when at times I have complained about the just over 1km that Crystal and I have to walk. God did bless us with a cooler weather though. The day we started raising the rafters we were delayed by a down pour of rain for the morning. In Swahili rafters are called kenches. In the next couple of days they will be putting up the fotos (support beams that space the rafters and that are used to attach the metal roof.
As mentioned earlier, the previous weekend we were at Melaba were we were invovled with an evangelistic campaign that the church we are helping put on. It was a great weekend, though the choir needed to preservere with out any water, for bathing or drinking, which explains why when the last service was over and the buses arrived to return to Bukoba, the Africans moved faster than I've ever seen Africans move.
Continue to pray for us and for them as we finish our last week here in Bukoba and begin our journey to Sudan.
As mentioned earlier, the previous weekend we were at Melaba were we were invovled with an evangelistic campaign that the church we are helping put on. It was a great weekend, though the choir needed to preservere with out any water, for bathing or drinking, which explains why when the last service was over and the buses arrived to return to Bukoba, the Africans moved faster than I've ever seen Africans move.
Continue to pray for us and for them as we finish our last week here in Bukoba and begin our journey to Sudan.
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