Two posts in one day! I had to share. Most of this is taken from an email I wrote to a friend complaining about my day. My day has been...what is a good word? Interesting. Yes, we'll go with that as it avoids any profanity. As far as work goes, it has been a normal day. I've read some stuff, written some stuff, gone to a meeting or two, and generally been a good worker. But then things started to go wrong.

At 1:00 it occured to me that I hadn't seen my carpool partner all day. This would not usually concern me since I drive in with my carpool partner and know that he is somewhere around. However, I stayed at a friend's last night and took Big City Transit to work this morning, so I have no way of knowing if carpool guy is indeed somewhere or not. Later in conversation with someone in carpool guy's department I find out that no, he is not here. He didn't come in today.

Soooo, my ride didn't come to work, which means he won't be going home from work, so how am I supposed to get home from work?

Normally I could get a ride with the other carpool that goes to My Town but they had no room. Then carpool guy was going to drive in to pick something up from the office and then take me home. Problem solved. At 2:45 carpool guy calls to tell me that he is sicker than he thought and can't drive to get me. He has found me a ride to Town Near My Town that is not My Town and that ride will leave sometime after 5pm and I have been here since 7:30am. This has been a LONG DAY. Also, there are no buses between My Town and Town Near My Town... So I am bribing my dad to come and get me. I may get home before 7:30pm.

All this to say, I wish I had a car.

Of Advent and Waiting

In years past I have complained about how early the fuss about Christmas starts. It has always bothered me that as soon as the Halloween candy is put away Christmas decorations are on the shelves and television commercials start trying to sell you things that no one actually needs. This used to make me bitter, and the Christmas after I was in South Africa it traumatized me a little bit. All the consumerism and crazy hustle and bustle of the “season” was a little overwhelming.

On many levels it still does both embitter and traumatize. But this year is different. This year I was excited to see the Christmas decorations and I have started listening to Christmas music already, well before my usual December 1st rule. I am excited about all things Christmas. Eggnog lattes, candy cane fudge crackle ice cream, nativity scenes, lights, trees, cheesy songs and lots of snow (at least when I’m not driving in it) make me extremely happy. I can’t quite explain it.

I am not doing much shopping this year since I have already bought my family tickets to The Sound of Music for Christmas and there aren’t many other people on my list. So I get to avoid the malls and not get stressed by the parking lots, crazy shoppers and general insanity. I still give the television evil looks on occasion when a particularly stupid commercial comes on trying to sell me a Sham-wow! or something equally ridiculous, but in general I am much more gracious in my attitudes and can simply change the channel. I am not letting the perversions of the season ruin it this year.

I am especially excited about advent. I have this craving for liturgy and responsive prayers and hymns and candles. Just the thought of it makes me happy. My church, awesome and amazing in every other way, has moved away from advent for some reason and being Mennonite it has never been much into liturgy. So I will try to get my high church fix somewhere else. Advent is a time of waiting, of expectation. Like creation holds its breath for the four weeks before Christmas. This is how I am feeling too.

God Bless us, every one!

Lunch with Mama Chantal

One of the benefits of working for a christian organization is that we have time set aside in our work days for team, department and small group devotions and once a week we gather as a whole organization for chapel. Sometimes these chapel are long and boring, other times they are cheesy or make me cringe for some reason. Other times they are really really good. Yesterday's was one of these. I will probably talk more about it in a future post, but one thing that the speaker James Cantelon said was that the most generous people on the planet are those who make less than one dollar a day. This sparked a memory for me and I've been thinking about it since yesterday so it is time for another story from Rwanda.

I think it was a Thursday, but I am not certain. Maybe it was a Monday. I had gotten another of those sms' from my boss indicating that I was to work from home.Since I had no real work that I could do from home I tagged along with Pip. We went to visit one of the women from the HIV/AIDS support group that Pip worked with. I had met this woman's daughter Chantal, who helps at the friday street kids lunches and I had heard stories from Pip and our friend Enoch about the family. I was looking forward to spending more time with them. The three of us walked to a small house part way down a hill a little ways from the centre of the city. We went in through a small gated opening into a small, clean courtyard where clothes were hanging and there were pots over a fire. We were invited into the house where we sat on benches against the wall in the small entry way which served as dining room, homework room, and living room. With Pip, Enoch and I with Charles, the youngest boy, Chantal and her mother it was crowded but cozy. My knees almost touched Pip's knees as she sat across from me. We had come with some small gifts for Charles and Chantal, some food and to pray with them. I wasn't expecting anything from them at all but as we sat down Mama Chantal brought out huge plates of food that had been prepared especially for us. There was rice, fries, beans and so much good food. We each ate from shared plates and there weren't enough utensils for all of us, but we made do. There were avocados and when Mama Chantal found out how much I love avocados (mmmmm...)she offered to get me some from the market the next day. We sat around talking with Enoch translating, we laughed a lot and continued eating. When I thought we had finished, Mama Chantal brought out another plate full of food. Such a yummy feast! When we could eat no more we prayed together. I thought I understood faith; I thought I understood prayer. I learned again what it looks like to actually depend on God, and to expect that your prayers will be answered. This family had so little and had to struggle to make sure they had enough food and that school fees were paid. We came to bless and help them, and we did. The smiles from Charles over the hat and soccer ball we broght him were bright and watching him share with the other kids made me smile too. But their generousity and the way they welcomed us into their home and shared their lives with us - I will carry that day in my heart for a long time.

Are you dancing?

Once, there was a small group of kids who decided to go to a park in the middle of the city and dance and play, laugh and twirl. As they played in the park, they thought that maybe another child would pass by and see them.
Maybe that child would think it looked fun and even decide to join them. Then maybe another one would. Then maybe a businessman would hear them from his skyscraper. Maybe he would look out the window. Maybe he would see them playing and lay down his papers and come down. Maybe they could teach him to dance.
Then maybe another businessman would walk by, a nostalgic man, and he would take off his tie and toss aside his briefcase and dance and play.
Maybe the whole city would join the dance.
Maybe even the world.
Maybe...Regardless, they decided to enjoy the dance.

Shane Claiborne, Irresistable Revolution

History in the making...

I am sitting at work listening to Jesu, Joy of Man's Desire sung by Celtic Women and Hlohonolofatsa, a zulu praise song,sung by the ASBC male chorus (I can't find the Soweto Gospel Choir version on youtube). These songs always makes me happy - if you haven't heard them you should. I am listening to happy music and thinking that it is a very good day. You can almost feel the world releasing a pent up breathe we didn't even know we were holding. Barak Obama is the president elect of the U.S. Not only is he the first black man to be elected which is exciting in itself, but he is someone you actually want to believe in. He inspires one to dream and to think of new possibilities in a way that no one else has in my lifetime. People around the world are looking at him with expectation and hope that he can turn things around. The world has hope of being better. I think there is danger in putting so much hope in one person but it feels like the sun is rising on a world that has been waiting for a new day. It is not just Obama the person, it is the change and the hunger for change that he represents. It is a good day!

Fridays in Kigali

While I was in Rwanda I would often wake up to an SMS (a.k.a. text message) from my boss saying that there was a problem with the days program so I should just work from home. I often work from home now that I am back in Canada but in Rwanda I didn’t have any work to do from home. That was not the nature of my job. So these frequent messages were a source of frustration for me a lot of the time. I was in Rwanda to work; I was there to learn how to “do development.” How could I do this if I was at home? But looking back some of my favourite days were these days when I was supposed to be working from home.
My roommate Pip was working with International Teams and on these days I would sometimes join in with whatever she was doing. Fridays were the best. On Fridays we would walk down the hill to Eglise Vivante and help the mamas make lunch for the street kids. Vivante and IT partnered in a street kids ministry and on Friday there was a large lunch served for about 100-200 of these kids. Pip and I would arrive between 9 and 10am to help with the meal. I think in some ways I was not so much of a help as a source of entertainment for the mamas but it was a great time. Chopping cabbage, picking stones out of rice, washing plates, peeling bananas – I never managed to any of this as quickly or as well as they did but I got better every week. The food is cooked over open fires in the church courtyard. Nothing smells as good as Tanzanian rice cooking over an open fire on a Friday morning. While the food cooked we would sit and socialize, sampling some of the food, especially the sauté – essentially fries but the entire potato is put in the oil. Oh so good! It was always fun to talk with these women. I practiced my VERY limited Kinya-rwanda and learned new words, spoke French and translated for Pip and just listened to conversation and laughter. Such a warm place to be! I can still hear Chantal telling Pip to “EAT MEAT” and Mama Francine and Mama Deborah’s laughter and teasing. When the food was cooked we would load it up on plates in an assembly line. I usually did the sauté or the sauce. Pip would steal pieces of sauté and present them as gifts to the other women and we would tease Manou that he was getting ‘so big’ because of all the fries he ate. Finally we would have all the food served out on plates and could let the kids into the courtyard. They would file in and wash their hands with the buckets set out and get in a group. They knew the drill and though for the outside observer it seemed like utter chaos there was a method to the madness. The plates would be distributed and the food would disappear with lightening speed. On my hungriest days I could not even eat half the amount of food that we would pile on those plates but these kids, even the smallest of them, would pack it away and if we could have been able to give them seconds they would have eaten that too.
I think one of the things I value most about these times was the relationship we built with the mamas at the church. As the time approached when both Pip and I would be leaving they planned a goodbye dinner for us. We met at one of their homes and had a feast. They taught us how to cook some of the meal, although we were late so we missed out on some of it. Cooking chapatti on an open fire is harder than you might think! There was so much food. There was Chapatti, goat brochettes, fries, vegetables, salad, rice, pasta and every good thing. We were taking a group picture towards the end of the evening and for a reason that now escapes me we were trying to make fish faces for the picture. I have never laughed so hard. Tears streaming down my face, doubled over in laughter and almost in pain I remember looking into the eyes of Chantal and seeing her tears of laughter and hearing her laugh and all that made me laugh even harder. I have the pictures from that evening on the wall of my little cubicle here in Canada and they never fail to make me smile.