Growing in Generosity

 We are told that it is important to be generous.  There are many proverbs and verses reinforcing this idea. And yet, I see in myself that I am not overly generous by nature. It is something I continue to grow in.  I have not figured it out yet.  I recognize that it isn’t meant to be legalism but a heart posture flowing from my love of God and others, but sometimes, even when I am generous, my heart is not.  My hand gives with a grumble.  My mind questions my actions. 

Tom giving his time for ceremony

When I lived in America I thought of myself as generous.  Though we didn’t have a lot, we did a good bit of charitable giving to different organizations—more than the 10% baseline.  When we went out with friends, we would often be happy to pay for the meal.  Things like that felt good and were relatively easy to do.  It’s true, we didn’t usually give money to strangers or to homeless people.  We were taught (and perhaps rightly so) that this exacerbates the problem.  “If you give a drunk money, he’ll just buy more alcohol.  So giving to him doesn’t actually help him.”

This taught me to be circumspect about giving. Then we came to the islands, and initially my old understandings of generosity seemed to work and were reinforced.  There were a lot of books out at that time like “When Helping Hurts” which were offering a needed corrective to naïve, disconnected giving.  In our first years we saw the practicality of being cautious about giving too generously as the first people to approach us as foreigners were the ones who knew how (or thought they knew how) to work the system and get money out of foreigners.  The false sincerity, lies, and damage we saw them doing not only with us but also to the sense of trust and community among local brothers and sisters was enough to confirm our approach to generosity as a good one.  

But as time passed, year after year, my old understandings of generosity stopped working.  They needed to change. Life simply demanded it.  How did life change?  I began to understand island people, their culture, their understanding of generosity, but most of all I got to know islanders.  My deeper friendships demanded that I change.  I had a choice between growing in my understanding of generosity or giving up my friendships to hold on to my old views.  That battle still rages in my heart, but I am learning.  

Here are some of the lessons I have been learning:  
Generosity is all the time.  There are many beggars in our town.   Most of them are handicapped in some way.  They make their living through begging.  It is understood by islanders that this is their lot in life.  So when I walk through town, I should probably be ready to give to the beggars I see.  I should leave the house with some change in my pocket.  All too often I forget to bring anything and must pass them by without giving them anything.  Every time I do this, I feel a tug at my heart—I just missed an opportunity to be generous because I wasn’t ready for it.  I wasn’t ready for daily generosity.

Friendship is harder when faced with real poverty.  I have become friends with some very poor people.  We may not seem rich to you, but compared to many islanders we are so rich and some of my friends are so poor.  Muki lives in a tin shack that is 10ft square.  He sleeps on a dirty mattress on the ground.  He gets one good meal a day.  Many times he comes to my house hungry.  I do not like dependency.  It is something we need to avoid.  I worry that Muki cannot separate the good of the things we study from the good of the food I give him to eat.  But I also don’t know what else to do.  I don’t want to see him go hungry.  I try to be generous with him, but sometimes he asks for so much—‘give me food’, ‘give me medicine’, ‘give me money for a taxi’, ‘and when you come back from your travels give me a phone’.  It is tremendously difficult knowing when to say yes, no, or “here’s something else instead of what you asked for.”

Friendship involves giving.  That seems obvious.  Isn't that what love is all about—putting someone else’s need before your own?  And yet, I’ve come to realize that I expect a lot of reciprocity in my friendships— I don’t like when giving is mostly one-way.  I also usually don’t expect friends to “go out of their way for me” unless it is a special situation.   But islanders (and I think they’ve got this right) see going out of your way as very much part of friendship.  Friend’s are meant to go out of the way for one another.  Friends are meant to give each other gifts.  Friends will do their best to help their friends even at the great cost of personal time and resources.  To deny such things to a friend is to break relationship—or to say, we aren’t really friends.

But the biggest lesson is that generosity is personal and relational.  Giving online to a charity is great and easy—and impersonal.  Giving to your poor friend who has gotten to the end of the month, run out of money, or his boss hasn’t bothered to pay him this month, and he asks you to pay his electricity bill and you wonder if you are creating dependency and have to decide how much to give—do I pay the full amount or give a contribution or should I refuse this time?  Should I give as gift or just as a loan?  Giving like this is complicated.  It’s not easy.  It’s very personal.  

Our son on big island

I still struggle with this.  I grumble and roll my eyes when someone keeping asking me for just one too many things.  Sometimes I still say ‘no’ when I should say ‘yes’ and ‘yes’ when I should say ‘no’.  I struggle to get it right.  But I’m thankful for the struggle.  My heart needs stretching in order to grow and God in His grace loves to bring people into our lives who stretch us.

PRAYERS ANSWERED
The men had their monthly gathering, several men came and there was good discussion. Our youngest son traveled by himself to the big island and had a good weekend with our friends there. We were able to pack up and close up our house. Tom was able to do one final English ceremony the night before we left. We were able to give away some stuff and bless some friends as we left. 

PRAYERS REQUESTED
We are in the middle of travels to mainland Africa and our youngest son is not feeling well. Pray that he could find healing and energy to last him through our travels. This week Tom has an appointment at the US embassy to renew his passport, pray that he would get his new passport without any delays. Please be pray that those with whom we study regularly, that they would continue to study and grow in our absence.  Our fridge door is broken. Pray that it can hold together until we get back to the islands and be a blessing to those who might use our house while we’re gone. 

Washing Feet

 How do you feel about feet?  Are they smelly and stinky and something you never want to touch?  Or are they just feet?  I don’t feel strongly about feet.  For me they’re just feet.  But I find island feet kind of fascinating.  It being a hot tropical place, most people wear some kind of sandal, often a very simple flip-flop.  You will see people wearing shoes and socks sometimes, but the majority of people who come by are wearing sandals.  Moreover, island culture demands people to take off their shoes when entering a home or stepping on a mat.  The result is, we get to see people’s feet quite a bit.

Most common sandals

Our friend Ananas (he’s the one who sells us eggs and bananas at inflated prices) is a part time farmer.  He often wears the flimsiest of flip-flops which seem redundant with his large, flat, hard, calloused soles.  The cracks in his callouses on the sides of his heel are canyons, crevasses you could put your finger in.  He is missing a number of toe nails.  He has some impressively tough feet.

Women will sometimes put henna on their feet.  It is traditional for a bride to receive guests while sitting on her bridal bed, her feet sticking out in front of her.  Very often those feet have been decorated with henna—sometimes in intricate designs.  Women must take more care of their feet, because I don’t notice their feet being cracked and calloused like men’s.  Pumice stones are naturally available here, so it’s not too hard to find that helpful tool for looking after feet.

Muki’s feet are somewhere in between.  He still has all his toe nails and though his heels have some cracks they are not the deep fissures of Ananas.  I had the privilege to hold them in my hands a few weeks ago.  We were reading John and came to the part about foot washing.  As soon as we started to read it, I thought, “I should wash his feet.”  I think every time we read this passage we should wash each others feet.  We’re told to!  “For I have given you an example, that you also should do just as I have done to you.”  Here’s how it went down with Muki.

We read the passage as we normally do a study and then started to discuss the implications of it.  We talked about how it really is a challenging passage as the “teacher” is serving others in a humble way.  It’s so different from how people in authority act on the islands.  Those with honor, status and authority never do menial jobs.  It is beneath them.  Even husbands refuse to wash dishes in the home and will call it “women’s work.”  

Ready to wash!

The study was going very well and I was getting ready to say, “Okay, let’s do it.”  When Muki paused and said, “So, I have a question.”  “Go ahead,” I replied.  He looked a little sheepish.  “So if he was their teacher and he did these things…well, you’re kind of my teacher…so would you…?”  Immediately I got up and said, “Wait right here.”  I went out and got a towel, a basin and a pitcher of water, then I came out and set it before him.  With a big smile on his face he put his feet into the basin.  (I was expecting one foot at a time, because that’s been my experience of how it’s done, but Muki was all in.)  I washed his feet.  He was silent as I did it.  His feet were quite dusty and took some attention.  The water and wiping washed that all away.  Then I dried his feet with the towel, and went back to my seat.  We continued to talk about the passage a bit more, but it was clear that actions had spoken much deeper than words.  His face was delighted.  He prayed with a deep joy and went on his way grinning with his clean feet.

I don’t come from an honor and shame culture.  I don’t know that it would matter very much to me if my teacher or leader wanted to wash my feet.  I would see the symbolism in it and accept it as a good thing.  But I can see now that it means so much more here on the islands.  A simple act of humility carries a powerful message.  I have only the honor that comes from being a well-off foreigner teacher.  How much more for the King of the world to stoop down and wash his friends’ feet!

PRAYERS ANSWERED
We are thankful for these opportunities to put words into action. Women’s gathering was a good study and was well attended. Megan was able to study with Hashiri and an island sister— this was an encouraging study and eye-opening for Hashiri to interact with an islander much further on the journey than herself. Our two older kids had a nice midterm long weekend break. We are thankful for friends who were able to host them. We haven’t gotten a new hinge for our refrigerator door but we are thankful that the door has stayed on and been functional in spite of the broken piece. 

PRAYERS REQUESTED
The men are meant to meet this week— pray that many would come and that they would be learning to trust and care for each other. Our youngest son travels on Saturday to the big island by himself (something his older siblings also did as part of their rite of passage into young adulthood). We will follow him a couple days later. Pray for smooth travels and for it to be a good kind of stretching for him. Pray for him also as he packs up everything that he’ll want for boarding school and says goodbye to his local friends— may he leave well. One of the newer sisters is facing a lot of pressure from her family members— pray that she would continue to stand strong and know how to respond to her family. Pray for her kids as well as they watch their mother weather this experience. Ma Imani’s daughter and step-daughter are being bothered by teachers at school that don’t agree with their parents’ views. Pray for these two teenagers to have peace, patience and wisdom beyond their years. 

Hanging Out with God

Studying the Word with someone in a different language and different culture continues to be an eye-opening experience.  It is challenging in so many ways.  Start with words.  Language is not as simple as a word for word transfer.  We many know the word for something in the local language, but that doesn’t mean it carries the same definition.  Take the word, “notebook,” for example.  When you think of a notebook, what do you think of?  I think back to my school days and think of a ring bound US Letter sized booklets usually around 100 pages with single spaced lines down the page and left and right hand margins.  But when you say notebook here, while it is in a general sense the same thing—a book of lined sheets of paper, an islander will think of a half-sized (what they call A5), staple bound booklet with both vertical and horizontal lines of about 50 pages.  Similar but not the same. 

Island 'notebooks'

Not a big deal, surely.  But it often becomes a big deal with more important words like prayer, love, peace, and sin.  Imagine if your only idea of love was the romantic/sexual kind!  It would be very confusing to hear someone talk about “love” between a mother and child, or between people and God.  Sometimes it is matter of finding a different local word. Perhaps in English we have one word, while they actually have multiple.  But what if they don’t have a different word and therefore don’t even have a concept of what you are talking about.  You can’t know what you don’t know, right?  So how do you change a person’s understanding of a word ? 

It is possible.  But it takes time.  We can begin to understand words in new ways with repetition and experience.  I see that happening with brothers and sisters on the islands.  I see how certain words become more popular in their vocabulary and other words fall away. Once a new concept makes an impression and they find a way of expressing it in the local language, then they’ll keep coming back to those words. 

I also see how they begin to understand concepts in new ways.  When you think about it, prayer is not just a word, but a whole complicated framework of ideas, forms, histories, and more.  It takes time and repetition to infuse a word like prayer with new meaning.  That’s why it was a beautiful moment when Muki prayed the other day.

“God, we thank you that we can be here and study and angadza with you.”

I first learned the word angadza in regard to our children.  The children angadza, which I took to mean, they are playing together.  Did he really just say we are playing together with God?  But then I remembered that angadza is also the word adults use to talk about spending quality time together—hanging out.  

Muki was saying, “God we’re so glad we get to hang out with you.”

Tom with latest batch of teachers

I hadn’t told him to say it that way.  I certainly hadn’t used that word in my prayers. It is certainly not how the majority faith thinks about their interactions with God.  But Muki had learned something about prayer and the relationships we can have with God, and he expressed this new understanding simply and beautifully.  We’re so glad we get to hang out with God!

PRAYERS ANSWERED
Things remained calm on the islands (though people were not pleased when the president visited, it was peaceful).  Our visitor had a good visitor (he called it ‘eye-opening’) and made it home safely. We heard some encouraging reports about some gatherings of local brothers and sisters— with moments of power and boldness.  We had some good opportunities to share the Word this past week—including during the big local Holiday.  Tom finished his teacher training class and feels good about this new batch of teachers.



PRAYERS REQUESTED
Pray for women’s gathering this week— that many would come and that they would encourage each other. There is a desire to connect both Hashiri and Muki/Mtsa with other islanders— pray that we would find islanders excited to support and encourage them.  We will be traveling in a couple weeks.  Pray that we can start getting things in order with our house, our work, and our relationships as the departure date approaches.  Pray for more people to come join us in the work out here.  We’ve seen a number of people have to leave in recent months and have not yet found people to take their places.  The door hinge of our refrigerator is broken!  It’s still functional, but we have to be careful when we open the door.  Pray that they can find a new hinge and fix it so that we don’t have to worry about the door falling off.  

Shoe Disaster

Tom and I needed to visit a friend’s family. His stepfather had died and we needed to stop and give our condolences to the family. We decided to walk— it was a longish walk and quite a bit of it uphill, but it was still too short to justify taking a taxi in our minds. I dressed in the traditional clothes that women are supposed to wear for a such a visit and grabbed my nicer shoes. We were about to walk out the door, when I remembered that my go-to ‘nice’ shoes were sliding off my feet a lot lately and would bother me on the uphill and then downhill return trip. So even as Tom was walking out the door, I dashed back, opened up our shoe bin and grabbed out some other sandals. 

Megan's poor blistered toes

I hadn’t worn these sandals for a long time, but it seemed to me that they would work better that my other shoes. A couple blocks into the trip I realized that I may have made a mistake. The straps were stiff from not being worn in so long and were digging into my toes strangely. I was probably going to have blisters. We passed a few shops with women’s sandals out front and briefly considered buying something, but nothing looked like good quality. Lots of products on the islands don’t last because of poor quality. I could buy something and have it fall apart on the first wearing. I kept walking. 

We were half way to our destination when one side of the back strap broke away from the left shoe. It was annoying and made me walk a little funny, but it was okay. 

Next, one side of the back strap on the right shoe went. Now at least I was even with both shoes flopping in the same way. It was better than being lopsided. The shoes were still digging into my toes, but it was working. 

As we neared the house, the other side of the back strap on the left foot gave way. The once sturdy sandal was only hanging on my foot with the two thin straps around the toes. I had to drag-shuffle my feet to keep them on. It was becoming comical, but it didn’t seem appropriate to trouble a grieving family with my shoe mishap. I shuffle-stepped to the house and we were properly somber for the visit. 

We got up to leave and I shuffled away from the house. Once we were out of sight of the house, I told Tom that I didn’t think I’d make it all the way home. We decided we’d look out for something on the way. But we were in a residential neighborhood and it was a Sunday afternoon so lots of shops were closed. We didn’t see anything. I was walking slowly and awkwardly and the pain in my toes was getting bad. 

The defeated shoe

I don’t think it was the sandals’ fault. They weren’t low quality.  There is another reason why things don’t last here: the climate. The heat, humidity and salty sea air has a corrosive effect. Glue gives out, plastic cracks, electronics die. In this case the glue holding the shoe together had given up the ghost. The islands climate was claiming another victim.

I could almost see the main road when one of the toe straps went. Two more steps and it was over. The destruction was complete, there was no more shoe to speak of. 

Now in another culture I could have perhaps walked home barefoot, but not on the islands. At least not all the way across town and definitely not while dressed nicely for a visit. I sat down on a bench next to a couple of old men working on a boat engine while Tom went to the main road. 

In around 10 minutes, my hero was back with some simple sandals for me to wear home. 

PRAYERS ANSWERED
Our island brother was able to get medical treatment in mainland Africa and is safely back on Clove Island. We have a visitor from mainland Africa, come to see and understand the work here— it is exciting to see more and more Africans excited about the work on the islands. The strikes are over and life on the island has gone back to normal for now. Our son did a great job in his drama performances this past weekend. Our daughter recovered from her illness and didn’t have a flare-up afterwards. 

PRAYERS REQUESTED
Continue to pray for peace and good governance on the islands. There continue to be concerns about the price of living and potential shortages. At the end of this week is a big local holiday, pray that we could use it as an opportunity to share truth. Pray that our visitor would have a good visit and catch a vision for how he and his organization might encourage the work on the islands. Pray with us as we consider how to connect the people that we study with regularly with island brothers and sisters in meaningful ways. Pray for our teammate in her work at the hospital— several colleagues are away or not working much meaning she is sometimes the only one there for her department. Pray that the hospital could find more people to work in PT/OT. 

Brokenness

 Sometimes the brokenness of the world is overwhelming.  I can feel it on a large scale when I think of wars in Iran, Ukraine, Gaza, Sudan, Mali, and more.  I can feel it when I think about friends and family going through rough times—money problems, addiction, grudges, depression, sickness.  I can literally feel it when I ride a taxi-bus over roads so broken they don’t seem like roads anymore.  I know this world is broken.  And most of the time I can live with it.  But sometimes, it feels like too much.

Beautiful sunset amid strikes

The whole world has been thrust into a fuel crisis because of the war in Iran.  This has hit the islands pretty hard, and not just with fuel.  Dubai is one of their major trade partners and one of the major stops of the shipping route.  The ships that make rounds between China, India, and the Islands also stop in Dubai.  When the war broke out, some of those ships were stuck in Dubai and the shipments to the islands stopped abruptly causing shortages and leaving some business owners with little to sell. 

That was bad enough, but then about a week ago, the government announced a price increase on fuel.  (Fuel prices are fixed by the government.)  Fuel has always been a bit contentious here—one of those things that shows the brokenness of this place.  Despite the fact that the government buys very low quality fuel—such low quality that it causes engine damage—it charges extremely high prices—twice the price you would normally pay at the pump in the US!  In response to the global price shifts, the government raised the price another 25%.  This was too much for a population where many struggle for daily expenses.  A general outcry arose.  The next day the taxis went on strike.

Over the following days, more and more organizations joined the strike—teachers, fisherman, business owners until it felt like the whole nation was on strike.  Commerce came to a standstill.  Even personal vehicle use was discouraged.  Protests erupted in several places around the islands.  Many of these protests were peaceful, but most were angry.  In many places roads were blocked and fires were started.  To our knowledge there was no looting, but anger was mounting.  On Friday, a protest became violent on our island.  A few people were shot and killed by the government forces.  The next day the government was in negotiations.  They agreed to suspend the price raise on fuel.  Did it take the death of protesters to bring about this change?  Oh, the brokenness of this world.

“Don’t worry” our neighbors said, “Things will be back to normal on Monday.”  Today, Monday morning, taxis are running again! Commerce is back up and going.  But wait, taxis are charging inflated prices!  Gas stations are still charging the 25% increase!!!  What is going on? I went on facebook for answers.  Since gas stations had to pay more for fuel during the crisis, they want to get their money’s worth on the high priced fuel they bought.  In turn, taxis having to buy this high priced fuel are charging their customers more!  What??  Doesn’t this go against everything the strike stood for??  Shouldn’t those gas stations have refused to buy fuel at those prices?  Shouldn’t the taxis refuse to pay for more expensive fuel? Wasn’t this what the strike was all about? Will people stand for it?  

New blooms on our porch amid strikes

Apparently they will, as long as it’s temporary.  

For some reason, this hurts more than the corruption and price hikes, or the striking and violence.  If after a week of unified strikes and protests across all three islands and getting the desired concessions from the government, the people are still having to pay the elevated prices, then what was the point. All of it is broken, so broken.  And the root cause is not a government, or corrupt leaders, but the human heart.  

Perhaps you read this and marvel at the state of things on the islands or maybe it just makes you think of the brokenness you see if your own country or community.  Brokenness is everywhere. So we need to pray.  We need to allow our hearts to break and become burdened so that we pray to the one who has power over the human heart.  Oh Lord, have mercy.  

PRAYERS ANSWERED
In the midst of strikes, we had some good times studying with Muki, Mtsa and Hashiri. There were also beautiful things like sunsets, new flowers and cool constellations. We are glad that after a week of strikes that people are able to return back to work and businesses to reopen. We were able to find local guardians for our kids while they are at school! We are thankful that some of our plans for this summer are coming together. Megan was able to gift Hashiri with a printed Book in the local language and she has been faithfully reading it everyday. 

PRAYERS REQUESTED

Pray for the islands-- for constructive change, for peace, justice and changed hearts! We mourn with those families that lost loved ones in the protests. We also the mourn the loss of a friend and colleague— a godly woman who worked to share her passion of reaching the lost with many— she died suddenly and leaves a hole that will be hard to fill. Because of the taxi strikes, men’s gathering did not happen— pray that they might be able to reschedule or find other ways to encourage each other this month. One of the island brothers has traveled to mainland Africa for medical treatment— pray that he can find good medical advice and relief from his symptoms so he can return home without too long a delay. Our daughter wasn’t feeling well today and couldn’t go to class— pray that this illness would not cause a flare-up in her arthritis and that she’d be feeling well tomorrow. 

Complicated in Different Ways

 A week ago we were on the French Island.  We call it the French island, because although being part of the same archipelago, that island is part of France, not part of the island nation we live in.  So despite being geographically close, with the same ethnic heritage, the same people group, the French island abides by the laws and customs of France—and that makes life very different.  Being so similar and yet so different, naturally arises comparisons in our minds.  Moreover, we interacted with many people on the French Island who have never been to Clove Island, Vanilla Island or the Big Island.  They were curious to know about the differences.  How did life work over there?

View of French Island (and visiting cruise ship!)

As we listened to and observed our friends serving in the French Island, one word kept coming to to our minds—complicated.  Life there is complicated.  They deal with so many things that we don’t on Clove Island.  For example: Their city is truly international, having people of different races, backgrounds and nationalities.  There are many from mainland France, but there are also many refugees from places like Congo, Rwanda, Somalia, etc. Moreover there are the undocumented immigrants from our islands and, of course, the original ethnic people group of the island.  They must navigate not only many different cultures, but many different languages, and people with many different motivations for living there.  Then there are the challenges of French government, religious views and laws implemented in a place of a very different traditional faith and government.  Add to that the complication of a large, poor, undocumented immigrant community leading to injustice, poverty, violence, gangs, and racism. 

Moon over French Island

Life there is complicated and as I listen to my friends share about their lives and the relationships they have to navigate and the many factors they must consider as they shine their light, I found myself thinking, “We have it easy on Clove Island.  Well not easy, but a lot less complicated —one people group, one government, one set of cultural rules, etc.”  After a week on the French Island we were ready to return to the uncomplicated life of Clove Island…

Did I say uncomplicated???

We took the boat back to Clove Island.  When it arrived at port the door opened.  In walked the port authorities and local police.  The doorway was on the side of the boat and naturally there were many paths for disembarking.  For some reason, these police officers felt it necessary to tell us all to make a long line snaking through the interior of the boat.  Most of us got into this line and waited patiently for this slow, nonsensical line to move.  I noticed that certain people were allowed to skip the line.  Why?  Well, it’s complicated.  They were probably a friend of the policeman or they held a position of power.

Finally leaving the boat we went to immigration.  To get to immigration you walk through a narrow hallway where officials are constantly asking to get by you in order to get to their offices.  Once through immigration, you pass back the way you came to a room where we are told to wait.  For what?  No one really knows.  

The baggage is being unloaded.  Are we waiting for those bags?  Maybe, but no one will tell you anything.  They finally let us out of the room only to wait behind a temporary barrier where we can see lines and lines of bags.  Why did they let us out of the room only to wait at the barrier?  Suddenly, and it seemed unplanned—more like a wall being breeched than an intended opening of the gates, everyone pushed the barrier aside and descended on their bags.  

Waiting for the luggage to be unloaded

By this time it was getting dark and the area where all the bags were laid out is unlit, so we are all peering at hundreds of bags, some using flashlights, as a hundred people force their way forward, falling over each other and bags.  When bags are found, you have to return the way you came—more jostling, pushing, falling over, but now with bags in tow.  You will fight your way back through the gate, back through the waiting room, cross the line leaving immigration, to get to customs.  

The confusion and complicated mess continues through customs, through exiting the crowded and chaotic port area, through dragging your bags on a confusingly long and unmaintained, dark path with thick dirt, until you finally find yourself on a road where you can catch a taxi home.…Welcome to Clove Island, where life is so simple! 

PRAYERS ANSWERED
We are thankful that God calls people to each uniquely complicated place in the world and equips us to live and serve there. Our two older kids both made it through their AP exams! Our daughter is officially an adult and we are very proud of her. Our youngest has officially been accepted into the same school as his siblings for next year. The women’s gathering was a large group this month and there was some good discussion. We were encouraged by how some of the women have improved in health and situation. Despite some original difficulty, the men have picked a day and time for their monthly men’s gathering!

PRAYERS REQUESTED
Pray that men would come and engage with each other during men’s gathering. There is currently a general taxi strike on the islands to protest the steep and abrupt rise in fuel costs. Pray for resolution and for poorer islanders as the cost of living continues to increase. The other organization that works on our island has a bunch of their team leaving in a couple months. This follows a trend of island teams shrinking— pray that the trend would reverse and that many new workers would feel led to the islands. May we be blessed by big, healthy teams. Planning has begun in earnest for settling our daughter into the US and college this summer— but she doesn’t graduate high school until mid-July so the transition time will be short. Please pray as we make plans that we would make wise decisions. We need to find new guardians for our kids (adults that live within 3 hrs of the school and can take our kids in the case of an emergency) as the current ones won’t be in the country next year— pray that we’d find the right people. 

Motorcycle Taxi Diaries

 The town of Nimodo lies 20 miles south of our town.  How long does it take you to travel 20 miles?  20 minutes? 30 minutes?  An hour if there’s traffic?  An hour and a half if there’s really bad traffic?  Does it ever take you two hours to go that far?  It does on Clove Island.

A view of Nimodo

The road between here and Nimodo was not in great shape. Then the rains came.  The damaged road was no match for heavy rains that tore up the potholes and ripped open the cracks, washed away the asphalt and left a ghastly mess.  There is hardly a patch of road left that isn’t gashed, pitted or rutted, the rest are just piles of broken gravel and asphalt.  The result is an extremely slow and bumpy ride — 2 hours to go 20 miles.

I was doing this twice a week this past month for the sake of a teacher training program in Nimodo.  Every Wednesday and Sunday I would leave the house at 12:30, catch a taxi and arrive in Nimodo around 2:30.  (Thank God for interesting podcasts to listen to.) Then I would teach from 3-5:30pm and then have the long ride back to look forward to. 

But there’s a problem there.  With the road being the way it is, the taxi buses aren’t running as often as they did.  Finding a bus after 5pm is hit or miss.  I wasn’t interested in staying in Nimodo overnight, so I asked the organizers for a better solution.  I told them, “If you want me to come do this training, you’ll need to figure out a guaranteed way to get me back to my town.”  The solution they proposed was a motorcycle.  Someone would give me a ride on the back of a motorcycle when the class was finished.

This has been a pretty good solution before.  A motorcycle is cheap (requires less gas) and faster as it can avoid a lot of the potholes (although these days the roads are so bad, it isn’t  much of a faster—shaves off 10 minutes tops).  I’ve ridden on the back of a motorcycle so many times at this point, that I’ve bought my own helmet, despite the fact that I don’t own or know how to drive a motorcycle.

The teacher training group

There is something wonderful about riding on the back of a motorcycle.  You get to experience the island’s beauty with 365º freedom of view.  Being on the back, you don’t have to be overly concerned about the road in front of you (although you do have to keep an eye out for the pothole bumps).  At the end of the trip, I arrive bottom-sore and windswept, but mostly, I really enjoy the ride.  Until the last Sunday…

That Sunday, the teacher giving me a ride couldn’t get the motorcycle he usually uses.  I waited around 30 minutes while he called around looking for something.  Finally a guy pulls up with a motorcycle, we hop on and head out.  It’s now about 6pm and the sun is setting and it quickly becomes apparent that this motorcycle has no headlights.

“Don’t worry,”  the teacher yells to me from the front of the bike.  “We’re getting a better motorcycle in the next town.  It’s my half-brother’s.  Brand new.  Very Nice.  Not like this one.”

That’s all well and good, but we still have to make it to the next town.  As darkness descended, I was praying that his eyesight was better than mine, because I couldn’t see a thing.  In fact, I was praying generally that we would be okay.  Sometimes a motorcycle or a car would pass us.  For a moment, their headlights would light our way, but soon we would be on our own again.  The sky continued to darken and my prayers became more fervent.

Just then a taxi pulled up behind us, lighting our way beautifully.  Only, he didn’t choose to pass us.  Instead he followed us, as if he wanted to help us out.  In fact, I wonder if he did it on purpose.  Islanders understand about broken down vehicles, perhaps he was just doing us a kindly service.  Or perhaps he just wanted to go slow.  Either way, it was an answer to prayer. He followed us all the way into town.  After another long wait, the good motorcycle was ready and the rest of the trip was uneventful.

I’m happy to say the training in Nimodo is finished!  No more motorcycle trips—at least for a little while.

PRAYERS ANSWERED
We are thankful for light to guide our paths! We are thankful for our time on the big island and French island this past week and for smooth travel to the French Island and back home to Clove Island. We’re thankful for the good work being done on the French Island and for the faithful witness of our friends there— it is a difficult and complicated place but we see God’s hand at work. We are thankful that the group on Clove Island were able to gather together as a larger group this past weekend and celebrate the group’s birthday! We are thankful that we were able to bring more copies of the printed book in the local language with us from the French Island.  

PRAYERS REQUESTED
Pray for the women’s gathering this week and for discussions on what to study next with them. The men should meet the following week, but already it is seeming difficult to find a day when the main players are available. Pray for our colleagues on the big island as they continue to process their son’s medical needs and what it means for them. We are still waiting to hear if our youngest has a spot at boarding school for next year. Pray for an answer soon. Our kids in mainland Africa will begin AP exams this week— pray for good concentration, low stress and good health at this time.