Luxuries

River clean-up crew

After helping out in a river clean up project this week, I jumped in the shower.  As I turned the handle the water poured out of the shower head, strong, clean and steaming hot, and I thought, “A hot shower! Glorious luxury.”  You may not think of a hot shower as a glorious luxury, but on the islands, very few homes have heated water.  In the city, the majority have indoor plumbing, but water cuts are daily.  More often we are “showering” via dunking a pitcher in a bucket and pouring it over our own heads.  The water is untreated and sometimes comes out of the tap brown.  The water in the bucket is somewhat better as the sediment has had a chance to settle, but don’t dip the pitcher too low—you don’t want to disturb the mess at the bottom.

There are many things taken for granted in the US that we have come to appreciate as luxuries living on the Islands.  But this week I was struck by one area in which the COVID pandemic has caused people around the country and possibly the globe to appreciate, an oft unrecognized luxury—the “Regular Sunday Service.”  Thanks to a very large field behind their building, we were able to join a safe, masked, social distanced, outdoor service this past weekend.  People stood at distance, and singing behind masks is certainly not the same, but at the same time it was a joy to gather together with others in a large group to enjoy worship, fellowship and teaching for a few hours.  I heard many agree with my sentiments in the joy it was to come together in person.  People were appreciating a “Regular Sunday Service” like they had not done in a long time.

Whether we realize it or not, all of us who might be pining for the “Regular Sunday Service” are actually coming to appreciate it for the luxury it is.  For a large number of fellowships around the world, and as it was in earlier centuries, a “regular Sunday Service” is simply an impossible luxury—sometimes dangerous, sometimes grossly impractical, and often unsustainable.  Instead, only on occasion can there be a large gathering, a time of fellowship and worship and teaching.  Because these large gatherings are less frequent their occurrence is deeply valued and celebrated.  They are like a delicious dessert—greatly enjoyed and delighted over, but not for regular consumption.  Yet, here in the US, I don’t imagine most see the regular Sunday service as dessert.  I think for most, if we are being honest, see it more like eating your vegetables—something you don’t necessarily enjoy but you do it regularly because you know it’s good for you and helps you stay healthy.   It is only the pandemic that is causing us to appreciate it more.  But what if the regular Sunday service really is more like a dessert?

Outdoor Sunday Service

Maybe there is something to be learned from those far flung places in the world where large regular fellowship gatherings are less frequent.  In such places they have mastered the art of the small gathering.  In these groups, no one is anonymous. No one can merely be a fly on the wall.  No one can listen and leave.  The intimate nature of the group will draw people out and draw people in.  In these smaller gatherings, fellowship and community are paramount—going beyond just Sunday but caring for one another every day of the week.  The burdens, the sorrows, and the joys of one become the burdens, sorrows and joys of all.  Often in these groups the teaching is shared rather than falling on the shoulders of one, requiring the group as a whole to search and meditate and participate.  The small gathering is a place to explore and experiment, to grow and to learn, to develop gifts that can bless others, and to discover places that we are not gifted.  There is more grace for failure in the small gathering, and yet more accountability and encouragement to get up, be forgiven, and try again.  In short, there is much to gain from these small gatherings, even though they might not have the same excitement and rush of a large gathering.  

I know one day, the pandemic will be at an end and life will go back to normal, the regular Sunday service will return, and we will forget to think of it as a dessert, a luxury, a special celebration.  But in the meantime, maybe we can take more time to appreciate the small gathering and allow it to change our old ways for something better.

Enjoying Boston Public Garden

PRAYERS ANSWERED
We are thankful for the all the small group gatherings that we have gotten to participate in and be blessed by during this pandemic. After some bloodwork and imaging this past week, Megan got the okay from her local doctor to return from the islands and we assume the organization will agree. Thanks for praying. That was the final hurdle for getting approval to return. We have had fun opportunities to see people in person and do things that we haven’t been able to do since we came to the US and fulfilling some of our kids’ wishlist of things to do before we leave. Our colleague let us know that the translation team has finished checking a new book— meaning it should be ready for sharing soon!  A couple weeks ago we asked for prayer for an island sister whose father was very ill— we are thankful to learn that he is better!  We also continue to hear stories about colleagues and islanders getting opportunities to share light and truth.

 

PRAYERS REQUESTED
Pray for the small groups gathering on the islands that they would be encouraged and strong. We are now down to less than 2 weeks in the US. It is easy to get overwhelmed by all we still hope to accomplish in that time. Pray for clarity of mind and steady progress as we work through our to-do list. Pray for our kids as they prepare mentally and emotionally for the upcoming transition. Pray for our old boss, he is currently in the US and awaiting another knee surgery after a long saga of medical missteps— pray for healing and restoration. We continue to have opportunities while we are in the US to share with small groups and individuals interested in our work on the islands and even about working there themselves— pray that we could use those times well. Continue to pray for light to shine in the darkness everywhere!

Comparing Apples to Mangoes

Even the drops at the orchard look good!

Cortland, McIntosh, Gala, Empire, HoneyCrisp, Fuji, Liberty…It’s apple season, and one of the things on our Must-Do-Before-Returning-To-The-Islands List was apple picking.  So this past weekend we drove out to one of the orchards and picked apples to our hearts content, ate apple cider donuts, looked at the farm animals and generally immensely enjoyed a classic New England fall outing.

When Islanders think of apples they think of large wooden boxes from South Africa, carefully packaged with small, mealy, only somewhat crunchy, yellowish apples that sell for about a dollar a piece. There is only one kind of apple sold on the islands and they are expensive, not special, and not especially good. They are for eating raw and that’s pretty much it. Apples on the islands are nothing special.

How different from New England.  We have all kinds of apples from global markets in the grocery stores all year round, but when apple season comes to New England, we can buy apples by the sack full for a few dollars.  And everyone has their favorite varieties.  The cooks know which ones are best for baking, which are sweet, which are sour, which will hold their form and which will turn into sauce.  Then there are all the things we can do with apples: sauce, butter, cider, pies, crisps, crumbles, fritters, dumplings, donuts, soups, dried, canned, with caramel, candied, even ice cream flavors.  Apples are a versatile fruit.  

Kids carrying our apple-picking haul!

Just as apples are at their peak in New England, mangoes start ripening in other parts of the world.  Just for fun this week, Megan decided to buy a mango at the grocery store here in New England imported from Brazil.  It was still hard and has slowly been softening on the counter.  She paid the discounted sale price of $1 each—a bargain!  Taste-wise it was somewhat piney, not very juicy, not very sweet. Mangoes in New England are nothing special.

Contrast the islands—in the high season (late fall), there are so many mangoes that the streets are lined with sellers, full sacks cost around a dollar—and there are multiple kinds: the medium green and yellows are particularly sweet, the long orange kind have a flowery aroma and taste, the small yellow ones are no bigger than a plum and are often quite juicy, the large peach colored ones are the size of a grapefruit and have a softer flavor.  Each of these has a slightly different season, so what you find in abundance is always changing week to week.  Everything is ripe, everything is sweet.  Nothing is picked early or shipped far.  Fresh mango juice is amazing, so is mango chutney and jam.  Mango crisp and mango pie are not an island delicacy, but let me tell you, we’ve done it and it’s delicious!  

Imported mango vs fresh apples

In New England we have apples.  On the islands we have mangoes.  Both are tied to a time and a place.  The old saying goes, “For some things, you just have to be there.”  So, we’re glad we’re here in New England for the apples and look forward to being on the islands in time for the mangoes!

PRAYERS ANSWERED
Our colleagues managed to get tested for COVID and leave the islands on the last possible flight—both small miracles.  We are so thankful they were able to get through all the red tape.  They are much relieved to have made it to Kenya, especially the couple who are 8 months pregnant with their first child.  We have most of our clearance to head back now—we are still waiting on a medical test.  We had more opportunities to visit, encourage, and share about the islands this past week with small groups here in the US. They went really well.

PRAYERS REQUESTED
Pray for final medical clearance this week, that we would all be healthy!  These last weeks are always full of visiting, sharing, preparing, shopping and packing—we can’t do it all, but we try to do a lot.  Pray that we would continue to make wise decisions in these next few weeks about how we spend our time and resources.  We have been in contact with some different people in the pipeline with our organization who might be interested in the islands— pray for the process of deciding where people best fit, that the right people would make it to the islands to join the work there.

Africa Has Changed Us

Us as cold-weather kids in Vermont

We used to be cold-weather people. We went to college in Vermont. Some of our first memories as a couple are playing in the snow and driving carefully on icy roads. We’d be in sandals before the snow completely melted. I remember the first time we stepped off the plane in Chad and how oppressive and enveloping the heat was. It was overwhelming.

We’re not those people anymore. When we arrived in the US, we had an embarrassing incident at Tom’s parents’ house, when we insisted that the upstairs thermostat must be broken because we were so cold at night but it said it was 70 degrees. Turns out thermostat was fine, we were just used to those island nights in the 80’s. When Megan’s dad told us that it was going to be in the 90’s all week, our immediate response was “Oooh, nice!” when the expected response was to lament the heat. Air-conditioning makes us cold and now that summer is turning into fall, we find ourselves bundling up much more than the people around us. We assumed after nearly 6 months in the US we would be back to our cold-weather-loving selves, but I guess 13+ years in Africa has changed us.

We used to be more rural people. Cities were good for a visit, but we enjoyed the open spaces and big yards of small town living. Before we felt called overseas, we had daydreams about a future in a small New England town.  Now staying in American suburbs has us thinking about how we miss the crowded neighborhoods and noisy streets of a city. Our home on the islands isn’t completely urban (not enough anonymity and no high-rises), but we’ve gotten used to people living on top of each other and walking out our front door and into community. We’ve gotten used to constantly mixing with people that are very different from us and we miss it.

 (Aug) That summer desert heat still felt hot though!

There’s a lot of other ways we’ve changed or are still changing. We’ve learned things: to be more communal (we used to be so individualistic); to open up our home and have people in our space (before our privacy was more important to us) ; to adjust how we talk and interact with people who are different than us (we used to not realize that we had the power to make people more comfortable or make ourselves more understandable). We’ve learned lots in our time on the islands and in Africa.

We’ve also lost touch and forgotten things too. We aren’t up-to-date with all the movies, music and TV that define American pop culture. We sometimes forget the English word for something or we speak but immediately question whether we’ve just said a Britishism or even a French or island saying just translated into English. “Is that how we say it in America?” we ask ourselves. We also sometimes forget the protocol. “Am I supposed to greet everyone I see?” “What is considered polite conversation with strangers in America?” Sometimes we forget what is normal behavior here because the island norms are more natural to us now.   

We’ve heard people teach on the struggles of adjusting to a new culture, that people have to accept that they are not just adding to who they are but having to say goodbye to who they were. They claimed that eventually you can become a 150% person, you won’t fully become the new culture, and you can’t fully retain the old culture, but you can get about 75% of each and become something new.

So even after six months in the US, it doesn’t feel like we’ve snapped back into being the American versions of ourselves. Maybe 10 years ago that was still possible, but those versions of ourselves are over a decade old now and they don’t exist anymore. Now the islands, with their unique culture and perspective, is always with us.  I wouldn’t claim to a 150%, more just mixed up, but we can confirm— living in Africa has changed us and ultimately we’re thankful to be mixed up.

Our kids pulling out the longsleeves now

PRAYERS ANSWERED
We made it back to the Boston area and only had to quarantine for one day before our negative COVID results came in. The island borders are open and we were able to get in touch with the airlines to change our tickets to October (we still had partially valid tickets leaving this week). We are still waiting on the final confirmation email but we are pretty sure we have tickets leaving on October 9th! We had another good zoom call, this time with a couple open to serving in Africa—we pray for more!

 

PRAYERS REQUESTED
Our island colleagues are trying to leave the islands on a flight to Kenya on Wednesday, but they are required to have a COVID test and there don’t seem to be any test kits on the islands! They are petitioning the airlines to find a solution, one of the travelers is 8 months pregnant and after this week won’t be allowed to travel. Pray for peace for them in this stressful time and for an easy solution. An island sister had a long talk with a troubled island woman. They prayed together and the woman is looking for peace, pray that she would find it. Another island sister’s father is very ill, pray for his healing and for comfort for her. We were greatly encouraged that contacting the airlines didn’t take as long as we feared, but we still need to get full clearance to go back. We’ve done most of the paperwork and God has been providing, but we still need to do some follow-up labwork for medical clearance and get in our financial documents. Pray also for our final weeks in the US that we would use our time wisely.

Passing the Bac

Tom with one of those that passed this year

Voice message (in slightly stilted English):  “Hello Mr. Tom.  Since yesterday I want to tell you…Many people come to our home to congratulate me…So I success the Baccalaureate, God be praised, with mention Good.  Yes.  I succeed to the Baccalaureate with mention good.  So I am so happy here, and tell also Megan that I success the Bac.”

Text message:  Hi teacher.  I pass the BAC.

Text message: Bwe passed the Bac.
 
Since we’ve been back to the States we’ve heard from islanders at different times, mostly through apps like messenger, WhatsApp or facebook.  They like to check in every so often and make sure we are doing okay and ask when we will be coming back.  But this weekend we got a flurry of messages with a bunch of good news.  Three of our friends had passed the Bac!

Anyone who has ever lived in a francophone country will be familiar with the International Baccalaureate Exam.  For everyone in francophone countries—and that includes the islands—the Bac, as it is often called, is your ticket to higher education.  It is the one and only way to move to university.  There are no other metrics considered.  There is no high school diploma, either you pass the Bac or you take it again until you do. Passing the Bac is a big deal.  There is arguably nothing bigger in the life of a young person on the islands.  The years of high school are spent preparing for the Bac.  Many islanders don’t pass the first time, but it is only offered once a year, so they spend the next year re-preparing for the Bac.  We’ve known people who have taken the Bac six times.  Imagine waiting six years to finally “graduate” from high school and be eligible for college.

There are some other peculiarities about the Bac.  The French system is graded very differently than the American system.  There is no 100%’s and nearly no 90%’s.  In fact 80% by French standards is an excellent grade.  In the French/Island system everything is out of 20.  So think about 16 out of 20 (16/20) as an excellent score.  The French system divides grades into levels.  There is non-passing and passing and then two levels honors or “mention” (good and very good).

Kids with cousin at Arboretum

I have never heard of an islander getting a “very-good mention”.  Rarely have I heard of one getting a “good mention” (Though you read in the voice message that one of our three friends got a good mention this year! And on his first try too!) You can pass the Bac with as little as 7/20.  In US terms that’s like getting 35%.  It seems like the majority of islanders get about a 7, passing the Bac by the skin of their teeth.  For most, the exact grade doesn’t matter—just passing is everything. I’ve heard more than one islander exclaim that the day they heard that they passed the Bac was the happiest day of their lives.

The exam results are announced over the radio, and every radio is tuned in.  Everyone is listening.  To give some semblance of anonymity, results are announced by number, but everyone in your extended family knows your number and everyone is huddled around the radio listening, waiting, ready to celebrate or hang their heads.  So for example, the radio reporter will say “746 - passing.” And a crowd of people at the neighbors’ house will begin to celebrate, dancing and shouting congratulations around a triumphant student.  But if the radio reporter moves from 740 to 750 without a mention of 746, then everyone knows that poor 746 did not pass this year.  The condolence is always the same.  “Next year, God willing.”

It is either a wonderful or horrible day, depending on the news. Two of the three friends that passed this year were taking the Bac for their second or third time.  I remember visiting them after last year’s failures.  It was a sad time.  But last year will be forgotten now, and how they must be rejoicing! For those who have succeeded in passing the Bac, the celebration continues for many days as they spread the news. It is the successful student’s responsibility (if possible) to buy all their family and friends a soda. We’ve already been assured that our drinks will be waiting for us when we get back! But even though we can’t drink soda with them now, we can rejoice with them, praying for the new chapter opening before them.

Busy at work

PRAYERS ANSWERED
We all made it safely to DC and have been helping Megan’s sister’s family.  Tom and Megan’s brother were busy with fix-it jobs and carrying heavy furniture.  Megan and the kids have been babysitters, cooks, and helpers throughout.  It’s been a great, but busy weekend.  We had a good online meeting with perspective team members.  May interest continue!  The Islands have opened up their borders to international flights as of yesterday! We will be looking into getting tickets soon.  Megan’s back has been doing okay despite lots of work and driving.  We are rejoicing with island friends who have passed the Bac.

PRAYERS REQUESTED
Pray for safe travels back to Boston and fast, negative COVID test results to minimize our quarantine times.  Pray as we look for tickets back to the islands and begin planning for our return.  Pray for upcoming zoom calls with more perspective team members and other opportunities we have to share, inspire and encourage this week.  Now that the islands have opened their borders there are many colleagues who hope to travel.  Pray for families and singles both coming and going to the islands and especially lift up the couple expecting their first child and hoping to go to Kenya for the birth.  Pray for the light to shine on the islands.  We continue to hear good news of our island  brothers and sisters getting opportunities to share about the Kingdom of Light and seeing them support one another through prayer and the word via social media.