Tumaini

2008-06-23T12:54:00.000-07:00

Vero-and Chinyoya hill

2007-08-28T00:48:00.001-07:00

Vero-and Chinyoya hill
Originally uploaded by jo-muthoni

vero and I crowded together on the way to a funeral of a little girl called Happiness who died last month from chicken pox in Mirembe hospital, she is one of the children registered in the compassion international program at our mennonite church

this made my day!

2007-07-08T11:16:00.000-07:00

http://www.mcc.org/thrift/secondhandpants/secondhandpants.mov

let it be morning

2007-06-25T05:09:00.000-07:00

Last night I finished a novel called, "Let it Be Morning" about an Israeli Arab journalist who lives in a village that becomes blocked and closed off by Israeli security forces. It is defenitely worth a read. I think it gives a pretty good idea/picture of the realities of what it would be like to undergo a military closure/blockade---extrememly inhumane and diffcult. It gives a range of different Palestinian, Arab Israeli voices as well.

I got this in my inbox too this morning and wanted to post it. I pray for the people in these Palestinian villagers in their continued non-violent resistance who face almost an impossible task and get little attention. Do not forget these people who struggle daily with an incredible amount of courage and integrity.

CPTnet
22 June 2007
AT-TUWANI REFLECTION: Behind the scenes of a civil war

by John Lochtefeld

Life slows down in At-Tuwani as the weather gets hotter. Both Palestinians and settlers take refuge from the afternoon sun, reducing the amount of
confrontation that occurs. It does not, however, stop. Young settlers still find opportunities to launch rocks at Palestinian shepherds.Bored soldiers roll through the village in their jeeps, stopping randomvehicles, sometimes unscrewing and confiscating the license plates from Palestinian cars, alleging they are stolen or their Israeli plates faked.

Worst of all, the nearby village of Susiya is under imminent threat of
the army destroying it, and no amount of cooperation on their part with the
Israeli civil authorities seems to be good enough. So when news comes
through word of mouth of the intensifying conflict between Hamas and
Fatah,it still seems far away, even as it spills into the West Bank from Gaza
and creeps down as far south as Ramallah.

The South Hebron Hills remain a world apart. Here the threat of violence
remains the monopoly of extremist Jewish settlers and Israeli soldiers.
Here the conflict is still defined by an ever-tightening occupation and
efforts by Palestinians to go on with life in its shadow. Here a group of
villagers, shepherds and farmers, carry the struggle forward by meeting
on ahot Friday afternoon to strategize on how to prevent the dismantling of
Susiya and the subsequent loss of land.

Resistance in At-Tuwani retains a level of integrity that seems to have
beenlost in not so far away cities where cousins have turned their guns on
eachother, fighting over the scraps of food that fall from the oppressors'
table. Sadly, he fratricide occurring to the north and west will
overshadowthe nonviolent efforts of the villagers. Cable news stations will
descendupon Gaza and Nablus like vultures, looking for sensational stories of
civil war. They will probably not pause to consider any of the underlying
causesof the strife, such as the tightening Israeli noose that reduces
Palestinians to desperation, or the crippling international sanctions
levied upon them as punishment for their exercise of democratic choice. And
thepress surely will not take time to report on the people of At-Tuwani,
Susiya, Bethlehem, and Bil'in--among many other places--who carry the
struggle forward nonviolently.

Their courage and commitment is on parwith that of Mandela, King, and Gandhi. Yet, they do not ask for the fanfare these giants enjoyed, but merely a little moral support from the outside world.

Hey Little Grizzly....Here girl, are you hungry?

2007-06-19T10:14:00.000-07:00

picture courtesy of the great photographing Stutzman family, who journeyed north from the colorado rockies to meet us tanzanian vagabondes in the much more rustic and romanesque canadian rockies, i was shocked that they caught a new pet, mama grizzly adams with two youngins, when all the tourists saw this beloved bear on the side of the road they all got out of their cars and started taking pictures! um, yeah, not so safe. kinda naive. very naive. actually pretty dumb. anyway, it was my first time to see a grizzley bear in the wild. as well as so many unabashedly interested and mal-informed touristidos who forgot to take a lesson in grizzly sight-seeing from smokey the bear who must be retired by now. but it was a beautiful bear, i wanted to sing to her and her cubs... next time, when there are not so many ungaurded nikon-carrying bystanders around.

Mary Benjamin Tumbo

2007-06-12T06:21:00.000-07:00

speaking at the west coast mennonite mens choir tour in abbotsford

2007-06-12T06:08:00.000-07:00

this picture was taken one evening when we spoke in front of 1000 people! Mary shared her story, and I translated; she has quite a powerful and inspiring story. People flocked her at the end of every event to give her a hug and tell her how much they appreciate her courage.

my colleague getting on a horse in brownfield alberta

2007-06-12T05:51:00.000-07:00

this picture just makes me laugh everytime i remember the instance. there was a bit of trouble getting on =)

"the force of a pigeon on grandville island, vancouver"

2007-06-12T05:25:00.000-07:00

i love this shot of this little boy, who's name i do not know =), mary and i spent a day in Vancouver with Bridget and Dave from MCC BC, and we decided to take Mary to the "Canadian market"...

2007-05-26T22:21:00.000-07:00

On the way to Alberta with Mary Benjamin Tumbo

2007-05-20T16:03:00.000-07:00

Elia

2007-05-19T02:38:00.000-07:00

One of our children went in for an HIV test; his results were positive. We have taken him back for series of more tests including a viral load test (the second place in tanzania-to offer viral load tests--only available starting a month ago)--After the first time he had to get blood taken, he had a bit of tears and pain--but now smiles and watches like a brave kid! in fact even the doctor gets a bit frustrated becase he always starts laughing and smiling now! Thats why we now call him, Bwana Chekesha.

Gabriel and his favorite teacher, Mariam

2007-05-19T02:23:00.000-07:00

Melea Chelea--the grandmother of six orphans

2007-05-19T02:16:00.000-07:00

Melea Chelea or bibi Melea Chelea--stands waiting to get food support from the HIV/AIDS program. This lady is giving everything she earns to her grandchildren--who have lost all their parents to AIDS. We were just able to register one more of her children in the orphan support program.

hike in morogoro

2007-05-19T02:06:00.000-07:00

i am what i am in amsterdam, and I am canadian even though the immigration official wont believe it without seeing a canadian passport...

2007-05-19T01:59:00.000-07:00

I am what i am in amsterdam. Well friends am in Amsterdam on the way to Canada for three weeks. We are a team of four people: Magiri, Nyantito and Mary Tumbo, about to help out with the MCC HIV/AIDS fundraiser organized by the MCC Alberta team...I"ll be going with Mary to Saskatchewan and BC--as well as Alberta (with a stop in Brownfield); Mary will be sharing her story about her life in Mugumu. She found out she was HIV positive in 2002, and since then has been actively involved in community care and prevention efforts. She started a support group for people living with HIV/AIDS in her community as well. Shes quite a remarkable, strong woman; and she has a lovely sense of humor--so I am honored to be able to go on this trip with them all! More news later!

2007-05-19T01:54:00.000-07:00

US Religious Leaders Meet President Mahmoud Ahmadinejad

2006-10-25T10:36:00.000-07:00

http://www.mcc.org/news/news/2006/2006-09-22_sponsorsmeeting.html

MCC Press Release
U.S. religious leaders meet President Mahmoud Ahmadinejad
Sept. 22, 2006
NEW YORK, N.Y. - Nearly 45 religious leaders from Christian and Muslim faith backgrounds met with the Iranian president, Mahmoud Ahmadinejad, Sept. 20, in an open discussion about the role religious communities can play in reversing the deepening crisis between Iran and the United States.
This was the first face-to-face meeting between the Iranian leader and leaders from mainline Protestant, Catholic, Orthodox, evangelical and historic peace churches. Much of the discussion focused on a mixture of religious and political issues such as the harsh language between the U.S. and Iranian governments, Ahmadinejad’s publicly stated position on the Holocaust and the role of religious groups in the nuclear weapons dispute.
The group met for about 70 minutes in a conference room Wednesday morning at the Barclay New York Inter-Continental Hotel, 111 East 48th St., where President Ahmadinejad was staying while in New York.
The event was organized and sponsored by Mennonite Central Committee (MCC), of Akron, Pa., a relief, development and peace organization of the Mennonite and Brethren in Christ churches in the U.S. and Canada.
“The Iranian government invited us to organize a conversation between religious leaders and President Ahmadinejad,” said Robb Davis, MCC Executive Director. “As an agency of one of the historic peace churches we viewed this as an opportunity to build mutual understanding between two peoples who have lived too long with mutual suspicion.”
Both Davis and Ahmadinejad opened the meeting with comments about their respective faith positions.
In a prepared statement, Davis focused on the need of religious leaders in the U.S. and Iran to pursue peace and encourage those in government to resolve differences peacefully.
“We believe that people of faith must come together to mend the breeches that exist and seem to continue to grow between nations and faith communities in this time,” Davis said. “This is why we are here—to talk, to raise difficult questions and to begin to build relationships that will lead to honest and open exchange to confront the very real divisions that tragically lead to animosity, hatred and the shedding of blood.”
Ahmadinejad said, "At any point in the course of history when a group of people anywhere in the world put their instructions into practice, they actually set themselves as examples of peace, order and progress and served as role models for ideal communities.”
Davis followed with a question about the language being used by the U.S. and Iran, such as President Bush referring to Iran as one of the “Axis of Evil” countries, while Iranian protesters march through the streets shouting “Death to America.”
Ahmadinejad responded by saying that “Death to America” does not mean death to the American people, but in fact Iranians love the American people. What it pointed to, he said, were problems with how U.S. government policy has negatively impacted the recent history of Iran from the Shah to the present crisis.
“There was no cause for anger as they are not addressed to the American nation but to the aggressive, unjust, warmongering and bullying U.S. policies,” he said. He later added that there are times when people need strong language to express themselves.
When asked about his controversial views related to the Holocaust, Ahmadinejad referred to previous statements in which he raised questions about the Holocaust and said there is need for additional historical research to be done about it.
He made a direct connection between the current conflict between Israel and Palestine and the Holocaust in which he said the Palestinian people are being asked to pay the price of the Holocaust. In this context “the Holocaust is a European problem not a Palestinian one,” he said.
Acknowledging the millions of people who died in World War II, Ahmadinejad asked why so much attention was being paid to those who died in the Holocaust and very little to the millions of other civilians who also died.
Davis told Ahmadinejad that more dialogue was necessary on this issue. In a discussion among the delegation members following the meeting some of the participants said Ahmadinejad’s responses on the Holocaust were less than satisfying, according to Davis.
On the issue of nuclear weapons, Ahmadinejad said, Iran is not producing weapons and has no need to. He also said that religious people should assume a role in monitoring the nuclear activities in all countries, including the U.S. and Iran.
Ahmadinejad suggested faith groups should join with scientists to visit nuclear facilities around the world to make certain countries are adhering to nuclear agreements.
“The president broke very little new ground in his responses but had some helpful suggestions for the role of people of faith in engaging more deeply around the issue of nuclear nonproliferation,” Davis said.
Toward the end of the meeting, promises of further discussion and a possible visit to Iran by a religious delegation were agreed upon by the delegation and Ahmadinejad.
“Come in winter when the nights are long and we can spend many hours discussing things,” Ahmadinejad said. Davis closed by saying that in the Christian faith tradition God calls on believers to pray for all leaders and that the delegation would be praying for Ahmadinejad and U.S. President George Bush. Ahmadinejad acknowledged the point and said he welcomed the group’s prayers.
For more information contact Mark Beach, MCC Communications Dept., meb@mcc.org, office – 717-859-1151 or cell phone at 717-203-7174.

Barak Obama, Illinois Senator, visits Darfur

2006-09-04T15:55:00.000-07:00

http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/20060904/ap_on_re_af/sudan_refugees

Some Summer Pix Since July Twenty Six...

2006-08-23T17:36:00.000-07:00

The XVI International AIDS Conference, Toronto!

2006-08-23T17:35:00.001-07:00

I attended the International AIDS conference in Toronto Aug 10-18 with some fellow MCC'ers. You can read our MCC conference blog here:

www.aidscarenow.org

and check out this link!

http://www.christianpost.com/article/20060817/23786.htm

The Idealist J meets the Realist J--a dream i had....

2006-08-19T03:20:00.000-07:00

“I wanted to say this for a year.”

“What?”

Back then, I thought, I would have screamed it in your face.

“Well, I think you missed it. You missed out. You chose the safe thing, the beautiful thing, the secure thing. You did what most people do. And in my opinion, you missed the real thing.

You could have had more joy than you thought possible, the most crazy in love foolish, incredible, intense, fruitful and life-giving joy in the world! A life full of sweat and tears, passion….so much passion. And yeah, probably a lot of suffering and pain. But you would have had these moments of laughing so hard that you couldn’t breathe. No-one else could have made you laugh and cry like… and I cant even say…”

its taken me so long to get this out. Its just that I hope you don’t numb your vision, or your ability to live your vision with the steps you are about to take. The steps that in my opinion are playing it safe and are completely boring! When you could have had…the most incredible journey ever. But now you want Boring, my friend, and when you do, you will become what you eat. And the more you get into it right now, the less likely you will be able to see it. You are too attached now. I think looking back, that you just didn’t want any more drama, or unknowing, or mystery, you couldn’t give in to the darkness…. impatience and insecurity evaded what could have been. You have such incredible dreams and ideas and a beautiful heart, but You also don’t know how to rotate around anyone else. That would be too hard for you. You need someone to revolve around you. You need someone to follow you, to worship your vision with you. To give it all up for you. You need those arms, who would do anything and say anything to keep you wrapped in them. It was all about you, and I think it still is. I guess you can’t see it, or I guess you think no one else could have given you that.”

“What! I can’t believe you are saying this! You are way too judgmental, self righteous, or jealous! You have no respect, no grace, or mercy! You don’t understand anything! I do need it and it’s my right and its how I am made! I can’t do it alone anymore…I can’t live on the edge of my seat anymore, hanging off the edge of your dramatic undertones! I can’t sleep anymore if I can’t have that shelter, that food, that bed! I need someone to take care of my needs! All my needs, and you know exactly what they are…..and, I am in love!”

“I know it’s too late to convince you on the stagnation of what beholds you. You fell in love with Boring. Go Ahead. You can’t hold any more contradictions. You would rather choose the secure than what might be painful and difficult. You can’t hold the potential for what it could have been. I can’t say anything else to you any more.”

“You are so wrong, I am finding my true self in this other love for the first time.”

“No, you are losing yourself and you don’t even know it, just ask God who you are and what you were meant to do.”

2006-07-30T10:05:00.000-07:00

A voice is heard in Qana, weeping for their children, because they are no more.

http://www.csmonitor.com/2006/0731/p01s04-wome.html

Those with cars, petrol and the other means to leave have gone, and those left behind tend to be the poor and vulnerable.

The Joys of Letter Writing

2006-06-20T09:07:00.000-07:00

Today we continued helping the kids write the letters for their sponsors. They should be finished this week. For the little kids, we wrote their letters for them while they told us what they wanted to say and ask; the older kids were able to write the letters themselves with a little help from us.

We have been organizing the office more, gearing up for everything starting in the program. Next Saturday we are having a special welcome for joining the Child Ministry day (Saturdays) where they will start attending bible, health, social development classes (July 1). Most of the kids are out of school this month so are home most of the day.

The kids really enjoyed some of the letters that they had recently received. One lady in Arizona wrote a letter to each and every kid! Pastor was absolutely amazed that this lady would take the time to write every kid! We have been busy translating those letters so that we can pass them on to the children. They especially loved the pictures of their sponsors and their friends and family.

Land of Eldoret

2006-06-19T10:01:00.000-07:00

I went for a visit to the Kibera Slums in Nairobi and Eldoret in June with Nick and Dr Oronje--other Lahash partners--to visit their work/projects and fellowship together. Here are some pictures and explanations of that trip-the Eldoret part:

Eldoret is a remarkably green and lush area, with its stark red earth. Nick and I drove out to a cemetary where Nick has seen many people laid to rest there from HIV/AIDS.

Kids waited to greet us any time we got out of the "Msaani"--king of the roads in Eldoret--and the white little ambulance of the Silas Slums.

I stayed with Nick's family. Pamela was my loved roomate for a few days. I got to have chai with Nick's dad every morning.

Nick and a new friend. We walked to visit a patient who had serious burns. I watched Dr Donald Oronje carefully remove the skin of somebody's leg. I think I would have passed out if it was me. His son accompanied us on the journey back to their home. Nick is like a big brother to so many kids.

Holding the baby of one of the clients of Dr D in the clinic.

Sunset on the road from Silas to town.

Dr Donald and his little daughter Laura. We went to visit Laura in the hospital who had been very sick. When I returned to Dodoma a week later, Nick called to tell me Laura had just died. It breaks my heart. Please pray or continue to pray for Dr D and his wife especially. Laura was only six months old, and a lovely, beautiful baby. It is a very painful loss for their family.

While we were visiting Laura, Nick and I found out that another baby had just been brought to the hospital. She had been dumped in the market because she was sick/had a skin rash. Her mother had just abandoned her. Every day and week children are abandoned or orphaned because of HIV/AIDS issues, stigma and death.

We visited Mary, on of the ladies from the Renew Program (Lahash) in town who is selling clothes. The eventual plan is to buy the business and have all the ladies be working at the store to generate income, and giving them a better future and hope. It's a wonderful, self-sustainable idea! If interested in helping to sponor this business and in so doing, about 7 ladies, visit lahash.net to find out more.

Dr D and Esther, who is now assisting in helping patients and running the clinic have a laugh together in the proposed clothes business site.

I was able to meet Jennifer who lives by herself in a little house outside the large house of her nephew. Jennifer found out she was HIV positive last year and has now lost her sight. When her family found out she was positive, many refused to visit or assist her (her nephew even kicked her out of the house and built this smaller shelter in the back for her to stay). Jennifer cannot see at all, but she has set her whole house in order so that she remembers where everything is and her memory is so well-programmed she can cook and do whatever she needs to do. (So no messing with her stuff Nick to confuse her!) One of the other hardships she faces is getting enough food. Jennifer had a wonderful gentle voice and graceful spirit. Although she has constant personal difficulties, her greatest expressed worry/concern is to help her son go to university. One of her boys just finished secondary school but has no support for university. This of course is constantly on Jennifer's mind because she wants to help her son so badly but can't at this point.

Jennifer's beautiful smile and charming spirit was so refreshing and inspiring as she talked about God walking with her through her sufferings. Her resilience and courage is remarkable. Her powerful story and expression of both joy and pain in her life remains with me as I remember her words and voice.

Dan, this is for you. We entitle it. "A plea for more gas from the middle east." Msaani is thirsty and doesn't have enough to drink. nudge nudge wink wink say no more say no more. We ran out of that Msaani's power ade al little too often.

Saint Nick at lantern light, the night before England played Sweden (Kombe ya Dunia, World Cup, baby.)

Two lovely girls stand at the door of Kitonga's home.

One of Kitonga's daughters and his youngest child wait well Kitonga arrives home after trying to find some work all day.

Dr D and young girl, stand outside Kitonga's house.

Kitonga sits with his youngest child. Kitonga lost his wife to AIDS last year, and he is now currently living with HIV. Dr D often tries to counsel him because things are very difficult. With little work and capital, Kitonga is not able to make things meet very well. He struggles to pay for rent (His landlord is threatening to evict him because they have not been able to pay rent for two months), food, and school fees for the four children that are staying with him. He would like to start some kind of small business, like a shop where he can fix radios, so that he can have some sustainable work to keep going, and provide for his children. Their one room house is also inadequate during rainy season, as the room often floods. Despite it all, Kitonga welcomes us into his home and talks about his hopes and fears.

Dr D and Nick often visit Kitonga to offer counseling and emotional/psychosocial support.

Another beautiful child of Kitonga.

Nick's family: brothers, sisters, and mum.

Two Faces of Nairobi B4 the K-Liberation

2006-06-15T15:16:00.000-07:00

On June 10, I met up with Dr. Oronje and Nick to visit Tenderfeet Children Centre in the Kibera Slums of Nairobi. I had just arrived in Kenya a couple days earlier. The contrasts of Nairobi are so striking, every time I visit. There is so much disparity that it continues to blow me away...hopefully these photos say it better.

On Sunday morning, right before I met up with Dr Oronje and Nick, Amy McKee and I paid a visit to Nairobi Baptist Church. They have just built a super big church, I was so amazed at the size of it.

The pastor preached on Amos 8: talking about how righteousness is taking care of those around you who are oppressed and God’s coming judgment on the exploitation of the poor. “Hear this you that trample on the needy and bring to ruin the poor of the land…buying the poor for a silver and the needy for a pair of sandals, and selling the sweepings of wheat.” (Rapacious and fraudulent business practices that victimized the poor). The preacher went on to talk about the need for justice and social care in society and how Amos was speaking out about the abhorrent conduct of reducing the poor to sandals and slavery, deliberately taking advantage of them, a modern African example could be like selling charcoal with containers that were bent in reducing their volume and therefore cheating customers, especially the poor (on a micro-level). He said that true righteousness was how you treat others. I would totally agree and say true religion is how you treat others---and we will be judged not just for what we did, but what we did not do for others.

I thought this was a great, trembling passage, which speaks of the passion and anger of God over the neglect and exploitation of his human children, and convicts us all to look at our own hearts, our societies, policies to evaluate any streak of corruption, greed and exploitation of any of our brothers and sisters which is covered up unlawfully or even "lawfully and cruelfully" justified. This is the call of followers of the YaWeH to shine the light on dark unjust practices. But, the funny thing was (or really sad thing) was that the only example the preacher gave about living faithfully was paying ones “servant or househelp on time!?" Yes, that’s important in many societies but I was surprised that it was the only example/issue the preacher talked about in Kenya?! Maybe my mind was already drifting to thinking about Kibera Slums. I just thought that if one wanted to talk right into the heart of exploitation, then maybe one should mention the K-word.

After the service I said goodbye to Amy and then met up with Dr Oronje and Nick to visit Mama Margaret at the Tenderfeet Children Center in Kibera. I had been to Kibera once before in highschool when we had gone to pick up trash one day and do some cleanup in one of the areas. I remember gaining so much respect for Jesse Dortzbach that day, (8 years ago!--am I that old!) whose family had been involved in some of the ministries/development projects in Kibera. Jesse ran and walked around like he knew the place like the back of his hand.

When we arrived at the Center, after walking a little into an area of Kibera, we walked into Mama Margaret’s one room house and met Dan her husband and Pastor Nick Macharia, who had come to visit and have their weekly Sunday fellowship together. The told us the history of the center, and their vision and many of the challenges/issues they were facing in their ministries, separately and together.

Then Nick Macharia also preached a sermon and Dan led us in singing and worship. Macharia talked about people who were suffering from burnout because of Gods work, Those who were growing tired of "the calling" (he was referring to those serving in places like Kibera). He talked about how God had to revive the church, and the restoration of our souls so that people would be satisfied to serve the poor free of charge. It was a kind of liberation theology sermon....that when we reach the end of ourselves, God comes to revive us for noone can kill the call of God---"In the midst of ills, God, revive your work!" We will lose strength and that is why we depend on God to heal, revive, restore, refresh, renew...Because he lives we can face tommorrow and are more than conquerors, overcoming the world in Christ's spirit.

Both sermons i heard that morning brought up the verse in Psalms, "when my heart is overwhelmed please lead me to the rock that is higher than I." Both addressed issues of poverty and exploitation. One talking about the righteous treatment of others, and need for asking God what the reasons are when God hides his face----because of exploitative practices upon the poor; and what to do in the midst of that calling when we grow tired and weary. The latter came out of real involvement in exposing unjust practices and assisting those who are poor, and so often exploited for unjust gain.

Later I was stunned and troubled by some of the statistics they gave us about Kibera. One thing that I did not know was that 20 percent of the tax money/profit comes out of Kibera reveals the huge economic/people power of Kibera (1.5 million people live in Kibera; which is about 1/3 population of Nairobi). The conditions are horrible. It is government owned land—no one can buy the land but people own the structures on the land and make people pay rent---since it is government land all structures are taxed. One of the major issues is that they don’t rebuild good housing because there are so many landlords (structure-lords?) who don’t want to lose profit off taxing their impoverished structures—most of these structure-lords live outside Kibera and some are even ministers in the government---so basically the government is not doing anything, because---there is exploitive gain to be made in Kibera.

Tenderfeet Children’s Center and other schools have had difficulties with landlords/politicians raising the prices of the rooms/structures they want to rent/buildings and ultimately refusing to allow for new rebuilding of proper living structures because it could potentially mean “these powers” lose rent on the ownership of their taxable structures.

One thing they stressed is that any future partnership should work closely with them to evaluate the needs and the best steps forward. They both expressed the failure of many NGOs and CBO’s who had a vision for what to do in Kibera, but did not last because they were not working closely with the people, listen to them, or knew what the real needs were and how to make their methods/training/material resources sustainable in their management/maintenance and practice.

Kibera Revolution or Kibera Liberation: I told Nick he needs to do a film or write a song about a Kibera Revolution. With the number of people living there in those conditions, I could imagine people starting some major protest or rampage. Now it seems a sleeping or drugged population (kind of) in the sense of not revolting against the authorities. (I don’t really know). With the lack of schools, water, food, housing, toilet facilities, jobs…for 1.5 million people, who actually have that much economic power as a whole (many probably don’t realize it). If that population turned the tables and didn’t pay their taxes or boycotted alcohol or other businesses, what could happen? There is no government supported school or hospitals—all have arisen independently. The only thing the government has built is a huge women prison, which lies on the outskirts; there is also one power line connecting thousands of houses to electricity, which is actually quite dangerous/hazardous.

Alcohol: 25 percent of profits from the alcohol industry in Nairobi are consumed in Kibera; hundreds of trucks come every day—people said if all other alcohol businesses shut down-- trucks from the alcohol industry would still run into Kibera, because that’s where the business is. Drunkeness, poverty, apathy, numbness, ukimwi, impoverishment, death----yet it is not the total picture!

Obviously projects like the Tenderfeet Children center and the incredible people who work there are windows of brilliant love and light...there are also so many churches in Kibera! It seemed like there was a church on every corner. It would take more time spent there to understand what they are like, but the small service we had together with Dan and Margaret and Nick (as well as Nick and Dr D) was meaningful and powerful.

Nick Macharia also told us about his ministry. He had heard of Kibera through visiting inmates in prisons. A large proportion of people in Kibera have seen the inside walls of prisons. He talked about how many churches stigmatize prisoners; they receive little support from churches. His prisoner ministry (the guy has met and been in contact with Chuck Colson) had to be started it independently. Kenya’s prisons are rated some of the worst in the world, and there is no rehabilitation projects, most people who come out of prison later return---for their conditions or opportunities have not changed.

75 percent of people in Kibera have been to prison. An alarming and very disturbing statistic is that 65 percent of people who are charged with murder and have to wait two years in prison before a conviction, are found not-guilty! So that means that many people are detained in prison, before evidence or a court date for two years and 65 percent are not charged! The waiting process is extremely long separating families and making them more impoverished.

Macharia’s Prison Ministries has started to be spokespeople/advocates for these detaines and comfort assist separated loved ones. They have started to do some advocacy, with other lawyers who will speak for the rights of prisoners who are detained for long periods of time without a trial, evidence, etc. in degrading conditions. He is working on doing more advocacy, and has designated a number of pastors around the country to do work in the prisons located around them. If more advocacy is not done, the conditions of these prisons and the legal system will remain the same, and anything else you are doing will only put a little band-aid on a huge structural problem.

The following week I was reading and listening to the news about the Soweto Uprising (June 16, 1976). Soweto is the largest slum in Africa followed by Kibera. I was already thinking about what would happen if there was an uprising/revolution in Kibera one day, and there were so many similarities in that historical events circumstances and even Soweto’s modern day struggles.

http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/africa/5080672.stm
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/in_depth/5078654.stm

The Soweto protests/uprising were about the use of Afikaans in the town schools, which to many was considered a “language of the oppressor,” as well as the drastically unequal conditions and poverty ---which still has not been abolished or alleviated-- for Blacks in South Africa living in Soweto under the system of apartheid.

So on June, 16, 1976- the youth of Soweto grew frustrated at their parents for not speaking about the inequalities, and so the youth decided to take it up for themselves. Children and youth gathered to protest and sing about their distaste for using the oppressor language and in so doing, police executed violent and lethal actions against this force and many were killed. The Demonstration became a national crisis, and many youngsters paid a price---hundreds were killed and lost reputation. The incident was later marked a crucial turning point in the rebel movement/fight against apartheid. The pivotal movement was started by the protests of children.

Today, some say there is now a loss of pride in Soweto. Some of the Soweto projects are good and some are bad---not quite like it was during apartheid, but varied good to bad. Some have said that one of the biggest struggles is the “normality of poverty”, and the normality of the situation (perhaps this is similar to Kibera’s spirit). This can be a big danger because it seems to negate any movement/will for change; the opposite reaction or perhaps coinciding condition is the danger of people revolting in their distress of poverty in their unjust system in a negative way. Efforts to stand against the system and act for change is necessary and should be done and supported, but hopefully not in a way that leads to violence and death.

Today in Soweto Primary school have different relationship with police; more people accept police brutality, and are accustomed to it. Today-education is still not equal. There are more opportunities these days, but the struggle with education deficiencies such as no free primary education will damage the economy even in the long run as there will be a shortage of skills industry and business of the youth are not receiving a good education.

So like Kenya, although primary education is supposed to be free, there are no public schools in Kibera, and the Kenyan government refuses to build them there (remember that part of that ineptness is because the government leaders depend on taxing those on rent and don’t want to rebuild better structures if it means they may lose their money). Mama Margaret provides most things: porridge, free schooling, but they still need many educational supplies.

So the same things are needed in the slums of Soweto and Kibera including democracy- right to equality. Poverty dehumanizes people, and is utterly unacceptable and disgraceful. I kind of wonder what the process has been for the people of Kibera. Have their been huge protests that have happened and I neglected to read or hear about? Have there not been any? If so why not? There hasn’t been a huge riot/strike that I know of that happened in Kibera. (But i don't read the news all the time to keep up with everything).

The Soweto Uprising—30 years ago—shook South Africa Those riots were about apartheid—and were not initiated by the ANC but the young people of Soweto. And so I sometimes wonder, what is the likelihood of something like that happening again? But the issues would be the war on poverty and unemployment, lack of resources to tackle HIV/AIDS, and distress over alcohol abuse? The huge challenge that remains today is destitute poverty. Can people change and attempt to upraise those who have been so depraved, those who have been exploited by the powers? One person said that the people of Soweto were still like the people coming out of Egypt (40 years in the wilderness), people are still in the wilderness, no one has reached the promised land. Still 80 percent of blacks in South Africa are poor, while 20 percent of whites struggle financially. It seems there are some stark comparisons to Kibera. The poor are being exploited by the powers, structures, government, those who are “less poor”. And the biggest challenges remain: Poverty, Unemployment, Alcohol and Drug Abuse, and HIV/AIDS.

PHOTO GALLERY

Here are some more large shots of Kibera. The first photo with the flag and cross is another church that meets together without a building.

Pastor Nick Macharia is explaining more about the systems in Kibera, and some issues in the prisons he visits all over Kenya.

The warm-hearted and compassionate leader/teacher, Mama Margaret. She is the head of Tenderfeet Children Centre. She moved to Kibera and became a teacher many years ago. And then she later decided to start her own school to help orphaned and vulnerable children. Her husband Dan stand in the back beside Nick from Eldoret.

A few young girls sit alongside the road in Kibera Slums.

I call this photo, "Monet's Kibera-Bay of pigs."

Dr Oronje writes a prescription for a young girl who was staying with Mama Margaret and was very sick. Another teacher from Tenderfeet pays a visit and Macharia watches Dr D in action.

Father Dan and his beautiful youngest child sit together during our mini-church service.

Pastor Nick Macharia delivers an impassioned sermon.

As we were touring different parts of Kibera, we bumped into a mother and her child. Both were on their way to find a doctor because the 8 month old child was very sick. After Dr Oronje talked more with the mother on the child's condition, we walked to a little clinic and Kibera to talk to a doctor. Dr Oronje wanted to confirm and make sure that this mother and child would be assisted adequately, would receive the correct perscription and get what she needed. After he had counseled the mother more, she told him that both she and her child were HIV positive, and therefore it was imperative that the child get good medical attention quickly to maintain her immune system. Once they waited at the clinic, she was given malaria medicine for the child.

One of Kibera's food markets. With one of my growing favorite items Daga (little fish). This year in Tanzania I have grown quite accustomed to it. Wouldn't say I crave it fortnightly, but if its prepared well, its not bad!

Nick is practicing his digital skills to perfection. A school is shown in the background.

Mama Margaret showed me where they are getting water for the children, a small tap of city water beside the church in which they are currently using for hosting the school kids due to renovation. Otherwise the water is absolutely polluted in Kibera. All streams are absolutely filthy and are covered with "flying toilets", plastic bags full of human faeces and waste.

An un-sober fellow begged me to take his picture of him as we walked in Kibera. He was overjoyed at the result. Alcohol Abuse and Consumption is a huge problem in Kibera.

Feeding the 2000

2006-06-15T14:28:00.000-07:00

FOOD RELIEF

The church is also doing a major food relief distribution which is wonderful. MCC gave money for food relief for 2000 people for the months of May, June, and July. People have been so touched and blessed by it. Due to a poor crop year with little rainfall, people in TZ, and Dodoma have been in severe danger of hunger this year. I talked to the guy who owns the huge business wearhouse where we bought the maize, and guess where the shipment came from? America via dar es salam. Until next month, there isn’t enough maize in TZ to order his shipments from. Although its wonderful that this grain is available to purchase from US markets to provide for people who are hungry here, I wonder. How exactly did this grain get here? Is it from the subsidized farmers in the US? Is it AID maize? Here we get all this money, 13 million from a US/Canadien NGO to buy this American maize in TZ. How does it all work out? I am still not sure exactly. 2000 people are less hungry, at the moment right now, and I am glad for that don’t get me wrong…but I wonder. What are the causes and long-term results of buying foreign grain and is it always necessary? Are there other ways to reduce the risks of hunger/drought? Is it just drought that makes hunger an inevitable issue, or are there other things? Are there other ways that would benefit people more? The price for maize and other food items has gone up greatly the last 6 months. Fortunately there has been some rain which has increased crop yield.

A lot of the questions are just speculative. I guess I am interested in knowing the price range of food how it fluctuates and how it depends on where the grain is from…all the factors. I am no wise economist (I could use a lot of help from some of you) but I do see the MAJOR role in the importance of knowing and managing economies. If Tanzania was not so poor and had less unemployment and those without economic livelihood, its people could survive better than depending on AID (that’s obvious). If people were better off, such fluctuations would not be a big deal. And then I also just continued to wonder, oh, is this some of the subsidized grain from the US that can afford to flood the world market at cheap prices which only hinder the buying and selling power of other less developed countries particularly in Africa in the long term? I just have some unanswered questions. Am I too skeptical?

Maybe all these questions seem silly. I can't help but wonder. But, I am glad for the opportunity the church had to give food to people and families who are really hungry right now. And people were very touched.

Before every distribution there was a short service where the pastor talked about where the food came from, that it was a gift of love and was given freely to people in the community with no strings attached. The food was given regardless of religion and it was stated that this was not a tactic to increase membership in our church or convert people. This was just to help people. Mzee Adam, our beloved Muslim elder/community member came multiple times to talk and address the audience sharing and encouraging good relationships among all members of the community adn helping one another. I love that guy. Some people were afraid or did not want to enter the church because they were Muslim. I remember hearing some older women chuckle as they walked by into the sanctuary that they had never stepped into a church before.

Eclectic Photo Gallery (Nov 05-May 06) with english subtitles

2006-06-15T09:10:00.000-07:00

Sisters of charity who run an orphanage outside Dodoma brought some people living with HIV for checkups at the General Hospital

On one of my visits to Zainabs house, a neighbour Vero came inside to visit along with her pet bird. Vero is the daughter of John Mwita, one of our Home Based Care workers in Ipagala

Eva, church parish worker, aspiring future mchungaji (pastor) takes a break after a day of food relief distribution

Pictures from St Josephs orphanage outside Arusha, near Mt Meru and near enough to Mt Kilimanjaro to get an incredible view

Me at my new place

Bibi Arod, grandmother taking care of 6 orphans, (their parents, Bibi's two daughters and their husbands died from AIDS) signs her name via fingerprint since she never able to learn to read and write

working at the church computer

beautiful children in Ipagala watching us try to fix a broken down taxi

Grace Muhagachi, second daughter of Amos and Esther, pours water for everyone to wash their hands before eating some cake at Bokke her big sister and little sister, Peace's birthday party

Rehema and her beautiful son Paulo, who will be sponsored in our OVC program. Paulo is a funny, sweet kid, but has had some health problems; he has TB and tested positive for HIV two months ago. Rehema is also positive, she became very sick last year but tested for HIV and started to get treatment (ARV's) at the General Hospital. Now she is doing well, except that she worries about Paulo and wishes she could start her own business to buy the food they both need. Paulo has been in and out of school due to his health problems. There is a hospital in Dodoma called Village of Hope that gives free care to all children living with HIV, which Paulo is now visiting.

Some of the wonderful kids I get to see most days(sponsored under the Compassion program)

Salome falls asleep on a new friend, one of the volunteers who helps cook for the children on Saturdays. Salome is also an orphan who lives with her uncle Robert, one of the church evangelists.

Beautiful Faces

One of my best friends Joyce Bokke who was my inseparable partner every day since December when we started working together. Joyce was selected by the church to become one of the HIV/AIDS counselors. Hilarious, talented singer and performer, spirited, and beautiful, I was honored to be able to work with her. Sadly, Joyce left the end of April back to Mwanza. Her father died earlier this year, and the oldest of her siblings, she went back to run the pharmacy business so she could get her younger sister through school (Form 6) this year. We pray and hope she can return to Dodoma next year and work with us. She is one of the most inspiring, fun-loving best friends I have had. I cried when she left, but she is only an SMS away, for now.

Easter Reflection- Sickness and Death to Resurrection and Celebration. Some of the photos are of Zainab at home and in the hospital, my beloved friend who died May 8, 2006 from HIV/AIDS, leaving her husband and four daughters behind. Her second oldest daughter with her child is pictured by the car with Joyce standing beside her.

Our MCC retreat in April: Sun, Ocean, Beach, Sailing, Kids, Good Rest and Reflection time.

Not so close and closer than you might care to look

Cooking with the Ladies of the Kitchen, can I just say I know about 10 women by the name of Mama Neema. They are a lot of fun, and have not stopped asking me when I am planning to get married, and to whom, even though I have tried to avoid the question and given them straying answers each time---ok maybe thats why. It would be easier to just say I am engaged to someone, a lumberjack who lives in Canada and is waiting patiently for me to return. (not true).

Some of my favorite kids again, showing off what their faces can do.

Food Relief Days for Compassion International. Because of the major drought in Tanzania, especially in arid areas like Dodoma, CI is giving extra maize to every family in its program to make sure their kids won't go to bed hungry.

Overlooking Dodoma from Pride Rock (yeah I guess thats what some tourists really call it) I didnt see a baboon lifting up a cub and zebras frolicking to the circle of life, but I did see some boys arging about where something was. I hiked up with my friend Andrew Gregory (named after that special saint/martyr/ex-soldier something which Andrew has tried to explain to me or make up) Russel who is working as a Youth Development Worker for the Anglican Office in Dodo for the next couple years. He's pretty much my only mzungu friend in dodoma and has been a great encouragement. I call him Anglican Andrew for short. He is teaching me how to play squash and can I just say, I think I am pretty darn good (or just so stressed out at times I wack the life out of that ball).

Irene, the cute little girl of one of my friend's Vero, who was testing out some major high heels. She must be an aspiring Miss TZ.

Joyce and I visited a house in Bahi Road full of 10 children. 6 of the kids where orphans. We will be sponsoring one of the kids, Elia, who is around 5 years of age.

Janet Daudi, another friend of ours, was counseled and tested positive for HIV last year. We helped her set up a small charcoal business last year to encourage her from other risky work that she had become vulnerable too. Her husband died a couple years ago, and many other family members have tried to take advantage of her. I would say that she is doing well, but its been at least a couple months since I last saw her, so even now I am planning a visit. Her daughter Jacqueline is seated on the very right of the picture below, as well as some other adorable kids inside her place.

One of my favorite people, Amina Rhamadani, who we often visit. She is spunky as I'll get out. She tends to call me her mother even though I think I am half her age. Her photo portrait was taken and published in the MCC Common place magazine for April. We met her last year when she was very sick and needed medicine and money for testing her CD4 count which she did not have. She is a widow and is living alone and surviving off gifts from her brother and us. I brought the magazine to her one day and she was just like, "why didn't they post a picture where they could see my beautiful hair?" She is doing well, except its been too long since I have gotten a chance to go and see her. When Zainab got really sick, we were really focused on taking care of her. Mchungaji Amos, my pastor and second dad, is pictured below. He is an inspiration and encourgement to me. One of my heros.

Zainab And Other Miracles

2006-06-15T09:04:00.000-07:00

May 17
The past two weeks have been extremely intense. Its been full of sorrows and joys. Actually the last 4 months have been consistently full of sorrows and joys. Tears and laughter. Good and Bad Days. Days with both hard and wonderful things. As Lauren Hill once declared, “I am emotionally unstable” which is sometimes what I have felt like with all that life has thrown at me and death has taken from me. Often, my feelings seem to be hanging on the edge of my sleeves more than usual. There is always a lot to process, a lot more I wish I could dive into, get involved with, people to visit, things to write, a lot more time I’d like to myself…There has been so much churning in my heart, mind and soul about different stuff, and I feel like there has been a new peace which kind of entered awhile ago. Probably based on making some final decisions and feeling happy and at peace about that, going through a letting go process, having work become more settled and plans coming together here, the deepening of new friendships, cooler weather =), the thought of seeing my family in two months, before coming back here again.

(Yes. I haven’t really announced it, but my one-year term with MCC SALT is turning into a long-term position!-I am extending for another year or so)

This update I had wanted to write a while ago because I wanted to tell more about Zainab, whom we have been taking care of since last November (2005) as part of Home Based Care and visitation for those people who are living with HIV/AIDS. I changed her name to Zana when I talked about taking her to the hospital via bicycle in December.

From a few months ago I had wanted to share about how Zainab was doing since I last wrote in December when we took her to the hospital (I put up some pictures of her being pushed on a bicycle). After that day I was pretty optimistic. We got her to the hospital, We got her the ARVs that she needed (that is anti-retroviral therapy: medicine for those with HIV who have a CD4 count below 200---a person without HIV usually has a count of 1800—this is a measure of your immunity system, the number of T-Cells you have in your system; but a person living with HIV who can get access to the drugs and take them well can prolong their life 40 years maybe).

The Tanzanian government is now supplying free ARV treatment for all those who are living with HIV/AIDS. (This has been the current policy for the last two years I believe—since 2004). I believe most of the funding come from USAID, and the ARV treatment itself comes from India. However, many places, MOST people living with HIV still don’t have access to this medication. “By the end of last year, there were 1.3 million people in the developing world on antiretroviral drugs (ARV’s), averting between 250,000 and 350,000 deaths…AIDS has infected 65 million people and killed 25 million…therefore the response is nowhere near adequate” (The Guardian Weekly).

At MCC retreat in April, I was talking to Jan who has been working at an HIV/AIDS community health program in Mugumu, Serengeti District, for the last six years. She said that they are just now getting ARVs at the local hospital. And they can only send the blood sample of 8 people each week or month to Musoma to get a CD4 test done (how you monitor the ARV). Only 8 people out of the hundreds of thousands of people who have HIV can check their CD4 in this area!

I couldn’t believe it when she told me that! With all the problems, complications, and lack of care with the ARV itself, and how desperate the situation can seem with them---it hard for me imagine not having them at all…and the totality of the devastating impact on people and families. It all blows my mind to think of people dying with no access to medicine. It blows my mind even more so when they could have it but they don’t; that it is possible, but it isn’t. That it’s taken how many years to reach some areas with ARV usage. That it still doesn’t touch the majority of people living with HIV.

Most patients I know now would most likely not be alive if it wasn’t for access to medicine (ARV’s). Because Dodoma is an urban center, they have government hospitals that now offer ARVs. They have dispensaries and other clinics which are also holding ARV medicine. Many people I know are strong, healthy, and if they eat well they stay in good health and you wouldn’t even be able to guess that they had HIV.

I know that access to these meds has been so limited in reaching the people that really need it, particularly in Sub-Saharan Africa the last 10-15 years. I remember writing a Model United Nations resolution when I was a senior in high school at Rosslyn Academy, Nairobi, which called upon the governments and pharmaceutical companies to allow the marketing and distribution of ARV medication/manufacturing at cheaper, lower prices like in South Africa, instead of protecting the drug patents of these new life-saving drugs. I remember talking in my speech that what was going on was like another slave trade. Robbing Africa of its greatest resource, its people.

I know that there are arguments about the necessity of the patents to ensure funding to further research or put money into education programs) BUT, when people are dying and can be saved….

So yeah, one of the current major problems is lack of knowledge about these facilities and that many people still don’t have access to these kinds of facilities and health services. The live too far away or they may not know they exist, or maybe most people who have HIV don’t know they have it because they are afraid to test, and wait till it’s too late when they finally show the symptoms of HIV: diarrhea, puking, stomach pains, leg pains, rashes etc for an extensive period. And for those who are far away from these medical facilities, who will spend the money they need to feed their family on a long bus trip every month? Their health has to be monitored continually so that they adhere to the medicine and see improvements or monitor bad side-effects or other opportunistic infections which will occur.

Before we took Zainab back to Village of Hope again in December, Mama Sorry and I visited her a few times. She was throwing up lots and was dehydrated, so Mama Sorry gave her some drips at home a few days before we took her to the hospital. (it must have been the weekend when the hospitals still were not open)…we would try to help feed her, but she was throwing up everything, bananas, daga, ugali… she was in a bad state…I can still remember her eating and then throwing up everything on the floor right in front of me…it was horrible. Rebecca brought a pile of dirt, dumped it on her throw up and then she would sweep it out the door…I took a picture of it. The image of her heaving everything up still is in my mind, and of Rebecca trying to assist her as she was sitting up neck and head lurched over in her white and blue sheet draped around her, but still not covering her breasts. She had suffered much weight loss and the emaciation that HIV/AIDS and malnutrition can bring on.

When we brought Zanaib to the hospital back in December, we took her daughters to the hospital so that they would know how to help her take the new drugs right. After testing her CD4, her count was 180---she was ready to start the meds. But one complication of ARV usage is that you have to adhere to them correctly, or else your condition will worsen.

That first two weeks in January when Zainab started the medicine, we don’t think that she took them correctly. Maybe, we can partly be to blame. As soon as she started those drugs, she started throwing up even more (it can take a week or longer to adjust—they are strong, its very necessary to eat well to feel alright when you are on those kind of drugs—that’s another one of the complications); so someone advised her to stop since she had only been on them for a few days. She was very sick and weak, and throwing up a lot.

Then after a week of stopping the medication---she started again. The medicine was for a trial period--only two weeks, and she was supposed to go to the doctor the first of January to retest and get more medication, but she no one brought her. I was traveling in Kenya and Western TZ at the time. And told some people to take her on that day, but that didn’t happen. It was difficult to bring her to the hospital because she couldn’t walk however. (I’m not trying to point the figure—we are all responsible in some way, and I don’t know, sometimes the attitude here is like, no hurry-no worry, which can be positive in many aspects, but can also be detrimental—leading to negligence). Or some people are unaware that taking ARV’s is serious business. You have to follow a strict schedule or you put your health in more jeopardy.

Another complication of people with HIV is that previous or current alcohol consumption is really dangerous. If many other intenal organs have been damaged including the liver, the effects of having the virus can hazardously increase.

Anyway when I got back to Dodoma we took her to the Village of Hope Clinic (Tumaini). The doctors said she needed to be admitted in the general hospital because she was too weak and dehydrated to take ARVs again and she was in serious condition, because she had stopped taking the drugs. If you start and then stop—its worse than not being on them at all. The virus can then adapt and change and taking the drugs is like poison in the body. (That’s a simplified, un-technical explanation). It may not have been a very big deal—she had started briefly and then only stopped for a short time—one doctor said she should be alright since it wasn’t that long). But Zainab’s condition was bad to begin with. She couldn’t walk. She had been sick for a long time, throwing up, constantly dehydrated and malnourished.

Joyce Bokke and Mama Sorry took her to the hospital again, while I was stuck in the office making drafts of the proposal for our program this year. Joyce said is was quite a frenzy, these Italian doctors working at Tumaini were so concerned about Zainab’s condition---she threw up in the waiting room, and immediately drew a lot of attention. The doctors kept muttering, “this is horrible, this is horrible”…because of her weak state. Then they thought maybe she must have had poor adherence to the drugs. As I said before, she had started and then was off them for a few days which led to a few weeks because when she went to the hospital the doctor said she couldn’t take anything till she was more ready physically (more hydrated) otherwise the drugs could make things worse.
Another complication to ARV’s is food.

I went to a meeting for a group of people living with HIV and AIDS in Kikuyu Area in March, and they lost two people that month, “Mungu amechukia.” They were on medicine, and ARVs are well supplied now in that dispensary----but because they didn’t have enough to eat they died. The drugs are really strong, so when a person can’t eat right, it can cause a lot of problems. There are a lot of relationships between HUNGER AND HIV/AIDS. The fact that a person with HIV AIDS has to be extra concerned with eating right, and if they are poor and hungry their health situation can deteriorate quickly. The drugs can become an impediment if they don’t have a good diet and cause severe headaches, etc, because of their mkali-ness (fierceness). The relationship too as well of people not having enough food and they are poor to begin with that they engage in risky sex to make a few dollars so they can buy some food for themselves, and their children (or their younger siblings if they are orphans)possibly contract HIV/AIDS, which can make them even poorer, as they struggle through health problems, other needs, medication to meet their needs, the school fees for their kids, and the food they need to eat. It’s a double burden, a double hardship, as Hunger and Aids can cause the other and exacerbate enough to co-opt the other, into a double loaded gun.

the ARVs should have a message on them: if these medications are taken without food and a nutritious diet, they will be hazardous to your health.

Maybe everyone without HIV should get a letter in the mail that says something like this:
Just consider that the food you are eating would also be greatly beneficial for the health of someone living with HIV. Do you realize that a very big percentage of people living with HIV in the developing world don’t have enough money to buy the fruits and vegetables that are recommended for their daily diet? Do we also truly understand that most people with HIV are so poor and its partly stemmed from their own countries incapability of employment because their countries cannot increase their economic livelihood and infrastructure due to many structural and international injustices? Do we realize that our governments Aid can only go so far? Sure people may be hungry to get food, but they’d be better off if they could provide it themselves, and take care of themselves sustainably. Aid sometimes just covers up the larger issues: structural poverty, gender inequality and powerlessness, lack of investment and FAIR economic opportunity. It also doesn’t tackle many of the roots of corruption. Of course there will be corruption in poorer countries, as poverty can breed greed, crime, corruption---so just giving aid to fix it (even with a nice package deal to try and tackle/curb corruption or withhold the money itself—can only go so far in fixing it as it only barely waters the playing field without empowering more players to actually play themselves).

Sorry, its just that the more I learn, the more connections I see from people to the systems that often repress the people.

So we first brought Zainab to the Dodoma General Hospital in January to the women’s ward to get her back to a state where she could receive the ARV treatment. Then it got more complicated again because none of her children were willing to stay with her in the hospital. Rebecca her second oldest was pregnant at the time (8 months) and her oldest Monica, it seemed couldn’t care less. At the hospitals, you have to have someone stay with you to feed you if you can’t be fed. The nurses don’t have the time to feed anyone There is a huge nurse shortage in Tanzania. Nurses are not paid very much to begin with (70 dollars a month maybe) and so many Tanzanians go to other countries to work. Esther Muhagachi who is the coordinator for the HIV/AIDS health program at the church (my boss) is a nurse at the children’s ward at General Hospital (she is still seeking to be seconded by the government to work at the church full time) She takes care of 80 children at a time with one other nurse during her shift! Unbelievable! Although I have ranted and raved at the health care system here the last few months, and been totally frustrated and said, man, if Zainab was being treated in Canada it would be a different story….I realize I can only criticize so much. The health infrastructure is not as needs Well, first Tanzania needs better economic development before it can invest more in its health and social infrastructure (where is where better economic justice, free trade, investment has a major role in uplifting the health care capability that can trickle down to hospitals taking care of their patients better, having more staff, better paid staff, increased quality of care, more medicine, more incentive to work hard etc). And Tanzania needs international investment and aid to assist in developing their national health infrastructure.

And I am not totally criticizing the hospital. I have gotten to know lots of the nurses and doctors personally and have been very touched by their care, compassion, concern and hard work. But I’ll still say, they are way over-burdened. HIV/AIDS is a major major problem and there are not enough doctors, and treatment centers to help everyone adequately. Not for HIV, malaria, TB and everything else. It’s a different world from Canada, the US, or Norway (not that their health care systems are perfect either however!) But I recently talked to someone who was saying that HIV in the US is basically categorized as a manageable treatable chronic disease…a treatable chronic disease!... that just is not the case here for most people living with HIV/AIDS---one of the reasons that make people so afraid to test is that they assume they will die soon after HIV and some would prefer to live in ignorance…but if they knew that it is possible to get adequate help and live for 40 years--that it can be a treatable chronic disease, and those services are available, if everyone knew that, would it be a different story? Would people swarm the VCT’s, clinics and hospitals?

There is still so much crap tied along HIV, including stigma and other issues that need to be dealt with. But the fact remains: there is the potential to save life (and therefore entire families) through better medicine and health care, to make the major killer in Africa a treatable chronic disease, and yet those services are unavailable to many because of the huge need/demand; or they are not demanded enough because people are afraid to know, test their status, and get medication because they have seen and heard the death blow and assume if they fall into the HIV category they are as good as dead. It is true and not true. It doesn’t have to be the case that many will die from a treatable chronic illness, but many will die because of lack of access and lack of information on the resources, or false information, assumptions about HIV/AIDS. Even though it’s normal to have HIV here, it can infect and enter anyone---there is still stigma which is another barrier to the entire process.

When we brought Zainab to the hospital the first time, she was given a few drips to keep her more hydrated, but she still didn’t eat much. And Zainab seemed very down. She was still throwing up, she couldn’t get up and go to the bathroom, she was very discouraged and depressed. She spoke little and it was written all over her face and body. After two days, the nurse said there was nothing more they could do (they hadn’t really done anything though, the doctor had maybe come by once---but no one was feeding her, she still was too thin and dehydrated to start ARVs, she was still tired and down). Joyce and I argued with the nurses for a bit, trying to really evaluate if she was ready or not to go home, or if she would be ready to receive care from the Village of Hope Hospital. The nurse said she had to be discharged. So away we went. Again there were probably at least 50 patients with two nurses in that ward.

We took her back to the Village of Hope Hospital, and they said the same thing again. She was still in really poor condition, she needed to be admitted in General Hospital again and improve a bit before they could give her medicine. By now it is the end of January and beginning of February. VOH is an HIV/AIDS hospital, treatment facility which receives its funding from catholic churches, organizations. They take care of children who have HIV and who can be admitted and stay there---all their care is free; they have a clinic for adults too; but testing is not free, and there is no ward where adults can be admitted. They have to go to other hospitals if they are in serious condition, or receive intensive, palliative care at home (if it is available).

So after the Village of Hope said she was still in no state to start ARV’s---still weak and dehydrated. So we brought her back to the General Hospital, this time we brought her directly to the HIV/AIDS clinic and her husband also came with her. That was the only time he came to the hospital to see her after that. I ended up talking to the doctor for a really long time, explaining what had happened. He was awesome, and we got her put in a more private ward which costs 1000 shillings a day (1 $). Ward 16. Still the issue was she needed somebody to take care of her, and stay with her, to feed her during meal times because again there are not enough nurses and assistants to begin with. So we asked Mama Sorry to take care of her at the hospital which meant making sure she ate three times a day (porridge or chai and bread in the morning, a meal at lunch and dinner (rice, ugali, bananas, beans). Mama Sorry agreed and began taking care of Zainab daily at the hospital. Zainab’s daughters were not able to come to the hospital because they couldn’t afford the 400 shillings (40 cents) back and forth. We did however give them money for transport and they didn’t show up those days. We encouraged them, and I understand how difficult it may have been sometimes, but, really. One other complication was that Rebecca the second oldest, 15 years old, the tallest daughter, who is very beautiful (they all are) and who has been taking care of Zainab the most, was fairly along in her pregnancy, and therefore it was impossible for her to have travel by foot. Anyway the saddest part is not that they failed to visit often, but that Zainab really needed their love and support---everyone needs psychological and social support, esp from family and especially when one is seriously ill, depressed, and anxious.

But after that first week or two in the hospital Zainab improved tremendously. We brought her milk and juice and fruits as well. Her spirits were high, she was so happy to be eating good food and sit in a nice bed…she was laughing like crazy, joking, smiling, yelling. She was radiant, clean, and happy. And she was getting plumper! I was constantly teasing her that she was getting seriously fat, and that she was going to run out of the hospital soon once she started doing more leg exercises and physical therapy…she would just laugh and say, “Leta Viatu Vypa na nitakimbia kutoka hapa!” (“bring me some new shoes and ill run out of here!”)

Mama Sorry did a wonderful job taking care of her and everyone at the hospital seemed to be falling in love with Zainab and her funny remarks. She would sit up and she had problems with her neck, which would shake a lot, but she would laugh and say she was just dancing to the music then roar with laughter. She was very charming and had people in hysterics (I wish I had a video!) She was then soon able to take the medicine after she was rehydrated and more nourished and gained a few pounds.

After about 10 days the doctor said that she could start ARVs. She started to have really low days. Actually I think she started to feel down again after she started the ARV’s----her strength seemed sapped, she had less energy, she lost her appetite more, she began to occasionally throw up her food (esp. ugali). Interesting that ARV’s--the medicine used to slow the process HIV/AIDS can make someone nauseated, when those medicines are so strong a good diet is essential/recommended. That is an unfortunate irony.

But then other days she was feeling great. But After a couple weeks I think she began to suffer from a bit of boredom too. It was sometimes hard to be there. I remember many people would walk by, Zainab’s bed was right by the door, and I used to get so mad at all their staring and stopping. And Zainab used to get tired of it too. She still wasn’t better, she was still very thin, and she couldn’t walk, and was beginning to suffer from dementia. So sometimes if she was happy or upset she would speak loudly drawing lots of attention. Everyone would stop and say pole, sorry. I think that would get really old, and only add to the discouragement after a while. If too many people bothered her, during visiting hours she would wrap the sheet around her head and wait. Then we later moved her to a separate room after awhile with more privacy.

One time I went to see Zainab to visit and Mama Sorry who was still looking after her told me that Rebecca had just been admitted into the hospital to deliver her baby. I went to go see her as she was just in the ward next door! She was lying on the bed and groaning from painful contractions. She was moaning and shaking. She’s only 15 years old. We stayed with her for awhile and then I went back to see Zainab. After about 20 minutes I walked outside again and they were wheeling her out because she had just delivered her baby! That baby came out fast. They wheeled her into the official delivery room, and I got to follow them and see the new baby. She was beautiful. And they named her Zainab!

I asked if they usually check mothers for HIV at the hospitals before they deliver, but I found out they don’t. A woman has to counseled first and then tested; there is no automatic system because by law you can’t check someone’s status and give them the results without going through the voluntary counseling part. There are some women health centers that might encourage testing. (However, I just read about this womens pre-natal care and health center which Bono visited in May in Arusha, which counsels and tests about 90 percent of the women who come through, and therefore any pregnant women who finds out she has HIV, can take certain medication to reduce the risk for her child.)

After about a month in the hospital it seemed that Zainab was starting to get more distressed although her condition seemed to be improving. She started to suffer a little from dementia. I think it was really hard for her to not see her family after awhile. That lack of emotional support I think made staying in the hospital more difficult. We again, wanted to bring her home as soon as the doctor said that she should be fine at home.

I remember one day when Zainab had had a very difficult morning. Mama Sorry called me to come and visit her. Zainab was refusing to eat and was screaming a bit. She was very confused and anxious and needed some reassurance. After talking to her for a long time she finally relaxed. We explained that we were going to get a physiotherapy doctor to help her start exercises for her legs and that she should be able to go home soon once she had been checked up physically, checked her CD4 again, and learned the exercises and the doctor thought it would be alright. There were numerous doctors looking at her though, and some said she was ready to go, and others totally disagreed.

We just sat with her that day, and she was happier the rest of the time, I gave her my radio to listen to. She listened to the music and smiled and laughed lots, and tried to drink more milk and juice. At one point I remember her sitting up, after she finished and began to smile and declared, “Mungu Yupo.” God is here.

We tried to get her more medicine to help her mentally. Often many people with HIV can suffer from psychiatric and psychological problems because HIV can influence the health of ones nervous system and the brain, causing a lot of distress. Social support is very important as well (that’s why community stigma is such a disease too because it damages the emotional/holistic health of a person) People can become extremely depressed, angry and sad. So when she did use medicine, it did help her a little bit. But I still think that she needed more emotional family support as well. It seemed a hard call, at home, we weren’t really sure if she could get good care because her one daughter who could kind of take care of her now just had her baby. Her other daughter didn’t seem to care enough to take care of her at home, nor did they have enough food, so we still thought it best to keep her there until she improved more.

The physical therapist came to see her and tried to begin doing exercises with her but soon stopped because it was very difficult for Zainab. He said she was not in a healthy mental state to progress through the exercises. She was confused and uncooperative a lot of the time from her psychological distress, lack of family support, sometimes lack of medication for her mental state, feeling sick from other medicine, wanting to go home, etc.

I think that I met almost every doctor in Dodoma through trying to assist Zainab. I was constantly running in to them and trying to get advice and counsel. Esther and I used to joke too, that we were no longer doing Home Based Care for people living with HIV/AIDS—we were now doing Hospital Based Care because we were taking care of Zainab at the hospital!

I myself got really frustrated with the hospitals and lack of care, sometimes negligence, but again, I don’t blame the doctors or nurses, although I detest that fact that some still have stigma for those patients living with HIV. As stated earlier, the health infrastructure is pretty minimal and there is a shortage of health professionals able to meet the needs of the people. Another thought to chew on---If HIV/AIDS continues to take the lives of the work force/professionals, think of the increasing strain upon the society, devastated and challenged by the threat and killing of HIV/AIDS!? Loss in hospital staff will stifle and degenerate the caring capability of hospitals and health workers/infrastructures nationwide.

Anyway, I know Zainab was lonely at the hospital. We visited her and took care of her, but we were not enough. I remember the one time that Zainab’s youngest daughter, Neema, who we will be sponsoring in our OVC program, came to visit her mom for the first time. She had been in the hospital for about a month. Monica, the oldest daughter was bringing her baby Brian to the hospital to get treated for malaria, so Neema had come along. When Neema walked in the room, Zainab was laying on a mattress on the floor since she had rolled of the bed that morning and cut the skin below the eye. The nurses moved her to the floor so that she couldn’t hurt herself again. When Zainab saw Neema she beamed. Neema knelt down and leaned into her mom, and Zainab put her arm around Neema and pulled her close and started whispering to her and she started to cry a bit because she was so happy to see her. I started crying as Joyce and I watched. She just held her there. It was the most affectionate moment that I had ever seen from Zainab.

It wasn’t long after that we finally decided to bring Zainab home. We though it better for her to rest there and some of the doctors said it was fine, as long as she could eat well and take her medicine. Honestly, there wasn’t much more they could do at the hospital or were willing to do. So now that she was able to eat, had gained weight and was on ARV’s, we decided to bring her home. However, sometimes feeding her was still a struggle. Sometimes she would refuse and we would try to counsel her. Both of the people from our church who were taking care of Zainab at the hospital were also planning to leave Dodoma so it was better to bring her home and take care of her there; and assist her daughters to take care of her. We trusted and knew Rebecca would do her best to take care of her mom, but having a child had complicated it the last two months. Now, she was more ready for that responsibility.

The day we planned to bring her home, we were trying to gather her things and clothes, most of them lay in this dirty bucket which was absolutely filthy because her excrement was in it as well. One nurse took some gloves and tried to rinse some of her clothes and put them in a bag for us. She made some comments to the other nurses as they refused to help because of nyanyapaa (stigma). All her clothes were dirty so Joyce and I bought her a new kanga. It said “Nani kama mama?” meaning “There is no one like mom.” I took a picture of her bed the day she left.

So we took her home, (this was the end of April) bought her a new mattress to replace her shambled 4 piece mess of a mattress that she had used before, we got her a pillow, medicine, soap, gloves for washing her clothes (everything we could think of ). Rebecca had just showed up at the hospital to visit her mom that same day when we decided it best to bring her home. We took a taxi and escorted them back home to Ipagala. Zainab was in a lot of pain in her neck and back, and was pretty uncomfortable the entire time. She still was not eating as much as she should because it was difficult, and she was still really suffering in other ways. Again her mental state/condition was not good.

The day we brought her home we talked to her daughters and neighbours for awhile. Joyce was outside counseling the girls to take an HIV test with their young babies. They were sort of laughing and joking about it all, and stated that they were afraid of going, and didn’t want to know, but they did agree (although I don’t think that they have gone yet). I stayed inside their tiny house with Zainab and sat and talked to her. Neema came inside and sat with her mom. Again Zainab reached out and grabbed Neema and held her close for awhile then she put her sheet over her head and tried to sleep, exhausted. We left that day, happy that Zainab was back at home, but still concerned about her health, and wondered whether she would get the care she needed and if her condition would improve.

We visited Zainab multiple times after that and each time she wasn’t doing very well. They said they didn’t have a lot of food at home so we brought more, but she also wasn’t eating very much because of her loss of appetite. I brought Ruth, a nurse who works for the Compassion Program on Friday, May 9, and she seemed really tired and thin again. She had started to throw up more, but was still hydrated and drinking water. The next day, I brought my friend Dr. Peter who works at the Mambo Poa Youth center in Dodoma, who runs the VCT located there and is involved in the preventive educational efforts about HIV/AIDS targeting youth. When we visited with Zainab, Peter said he just thought that she needed to eat more—and that her lack of food/or eating was the biggest problem. The medications were also making her very drowsy. She had started some medicine to keep her calm and relaxed but it seemed to make her extremely tired. We left, again promising to bring more food.

The next day I discovered I had malaria! And had to sit through the longest church service of my life before I went to test. Once I got the medication, I started feeling much better. And then Monday, we were busy doing food distribution. Zainab’s husband came to collect food that day since we had invited all the families we were helping in our program. Later that afternoon, John Mwita gave me a call, and informed that Zainab had died that afternoon. I was in shock. I couldn’t believe it. I just stood in the office when I hung up the phone not sure what to do. I told Mwita that I would come to Ipagala (Mwita is Zainab’s neighbour, who was the one that started to help/counsel Zainab back in November). I went to the Compassion office and told people the news. Everyone was shocked. Ruth and Margaret wanted to go with me so we left late and went to Ipagala. When we arrived the women were gathered outside with their kangas wrapped around them. We entered the house and spoke our condolences to the daughters and others sitting around. It was dark, but I could see their faces, I took Neema’s hand and she smiled at me which just broke my heart. She has a beautiful smile and she looks so much like her mom. Zainab was wrapped in white cloth and there was like a thin screen in the room separating her from the others. I remember Rebecca’s face looking solemn, broken.

Her husband had not yet arrived at home, so he had not even received the news. I had seen him earlier that day because he had come to the church to get food since we were distributing food to all the families. He had still not arrived before we left.

I also had this weird feeling though too. It’s just that she had suffered so much, and maybe now she could rest. It had been so hard for her family to take care of her (although some would argue, many of them simply neglected her). But when I went home, I couldn’t sleep that night. I couldn’t even go to Mchungaji’s house, I didn’t want to talk about it, I didn’t want to cry. I started reading Kite Runner, which is an amazing novel taking place in Afghanistan, and finished it that morning as I stayed up and got a couple hours sleep. If I wanted to distract myself from crying, it didn’t work. I wept through it all. it was so intense, but it was an incredible book; one of the most redeeming novels/ books I have ever read.

I went to the church the next morning and got busy doing some stuff. I was in touch with Mwita to find out when the funeral was. I saw Mchungaji Amos, and I could barely look at him. I went and talked to him in the office, someone had called him the night before to tell him the news, but he told me he was so sad and disturbed he couldn’t even call me to come over although he wanted to know if I was ok. And at some point, I don’t remember when, I broke down and started crying. He seems to be one of the few people I can openly cry with. He is like a father to me, and I have had to come to him for advice and counsel and prayer about other areas of life, and times when I have needed to cry the last few months.

He tried to encourage me and tell me not to cry, but I needed to. She was a friend. We had taken care of her for a long time. Joyce had left the week before, I called her and she was really sad/upset too. As I continued to let the tears fall down, Mchungaji said, “don’t cry don’t cry, Mungu Yupo.” That made me lose it even more because I remembered Zainab saying the same thing as I sat with her in the hospital that day when she had been so stressed out and then finally relaxed. I have to say the last few months from Feb to May have been really difficult. I don’t think I have gone through so many moments of depression. I have always been alright, and am enjoying and loving people, but sometimes the reality of everything hits me really hard. We can do a lot and can continue to be responsive, but to intake the totality of the devastation of HIV/AIDS and its residual and revelation of even greater problems in society/world which often puts this enormous burden which I can’t carry, which I don’t know how to handle. I am just living and working through it, and don’t have answers to some of these hard questions and moments. Suffering isn’t something you simply go through to “edify yourself and learn some over-spiritualized lesson”. It sucks. People are dying. People are stigmatized and marginalized and cast out and its wrong. Things can be dark and messy.

I took Mchungaji’s car and went and picked up Esther who was just getting off work at the General Hospital. And we headed to Ipagala for the funeral, although when we arrived they had already returned from the burial (we had been told it was later than it actually happened) and all the people were gathered around as people were giving speeches and condolences. Esther and I strolled through the crowd and sat down and listened to the final speeches. Mwita told us later that they gave a speech thanking the Mennonite Church for our caring efforts for Zainab.

Then things started to get really intense. Some of the leaders stood up and talked about how Zainab was mistreated and neglected by her family. One women said they should take over the house and kick the daughters out of the community. Someone said that a neighbour had discovered Zainab was dead on Monday afternoon, and that her daughters were laughing and joking and sitting outside at the time. A woman said that the daughters were sleeping with men, doing their “business” while Zaianb had been sick and laying inside. People were pretty angry and it was like this huge debate erupted (there must have been 100 people there). It was stated later that Monica took money that was given by the father to buy food and would disappear and do her own thing instead, so Zainab sometimes had nothing to eat. They forced Zaianb’s daughters to come outside and someone went up to Monica and grabbed the kanga wrapped around her face and shoulders and threw it to the ground so that her head just hung down, eyes downcast, as she stood in front of everybody.

At that moment, I started to cry, for different reasons I can’t even explain. I had never seen an event like this before and I gazed at Monica, I just wanted to do something, but I didn’t know what. I felt bad for her---this is a shame-based culture in some ways so remarks would reflect upon her reputation for the rest of her life. Yes, Monica could have helped her mom a lot more, but she was also very young, 17 with a child, and poor—maybe she didn’t have excuses for her behavior, maybe she did. I don’t know what her relationship with her mom was like before she got sick. They stood there and continued to condemn Monica. And then I wanted to ask a question to the audience, especially to the men (I didn’t actually ask the question but I began to wonder…) How many men sitting there had slept with Monica in exchange for money? How many had taken advantage of her vulnerability and poverty? Monica is a gorgeous girl, so are all Zanaib’s daughters. I can’t remember if it was later on or during this episode that I thought of John 6, the adulterer brought before Jesus to be stoned, and Jesus refuses saying let the first without sin cast the stone…

And then I had other questions: People seemed to be getting angry as more people stood up to condemn Zaiab’s family. I wanted ask, if people are so angry why didn’t they do something before? Why didn’t more people visit her at home and in the hospital? Why didn’t more people bring her food and feed her? If they had really cared, who had actually done anything to help???
I also began to wonder if we as the Mennonite church gave the impression that all her needs were being met/looked after which in turn disempowered the community to rise up to carry out the responsibility to care for its members who are sick. If they were complaining, then more should have been done before it was too late. Very few people came to see her in the hospital to my memory, but I could be wrong. But I guess later I felt like it was unfair to condemn Monica, even though she was her child. How could someone condemn Monica or the others if they themselves weren’t willing to visit Zainab and pitch in? Perhaps only those who tried to assist Zainab had a right to speak. We can’t condemn anyone if we ourselves lack the compassion that we use in attacking/cross-examine somebody else.

Was it stigma that held people back from caring for Zainab, including her children sometimes? Many are still afraid to test for HIV. And now I am worried. How will this death impact the community? Zainab was tested, she had started ARVs (her CD4 was still fairly high); yes she was late in getting really good treatment, she could no longer walk, she was malnourished, but I thought she was going to make it. Many people do make it when they get the right medicine, and can prolong their life—even if they are a bit late in getting help

But now, will people still be ignorant or afraid of their own status because Zainab’s death will simply reify the common belief that HIV=AIDS=Automatic Death? Will people not realize that lots of people have HIV and are doing just fine, that HIV can be a treatable chronic disease, that access is available to life-prolonging drugs, that it is better to know one’s status to be prepared and take proper precautions if one is HIV positive, eat right and that it is possible to live for more than 40 years from the time one starts medication? But no, many will remain afraid, because to most people here who have seen the devastation,having HIV/AIDS means one is soon damned to death. (Can you blame people though for this false assumption now that the world has only made these drugs free and available for the last two years in some few developing countries; while previously people had to simply watch the millions dying from AIDS related diseases every day!) So perhaps many will think healthcare is useless/pointless, people will die regardless so caring for people is also useless; or perhaps if they think all HIV positives will die, then better to enjoy life in ignorance—till its too late. That is what scares me. The lack of education and knowledge will decrease the sensitization efforts of the community. And more people dying from HIV seen in a community will increase the fear of knowing if one is positive or not.

Zainab was really complicated. She had poor adherence and nutrition, she had been an alcoholic. These things made it difficult for her to improve. But in Dodoma there are some good health services available. Lives can be saved. People shouldn’t wait till its too late to get the care they need.

We decided to encourage Neema, the youngest daughter to stay with her auntie who was willing to take her in since it may be a better environment for her to be in now.

I have many more memories of Zainab. I don’t know that I could have written everything when it all happened. I was pretty immersed in grief. But some incredible, wonderful things happened as well, which gave me some light through it all. There were three miracles that happened that same week.

The day I went to the funeral, I got a call from my friend Musa, who is the Compassion Director at our church. He announced that his wife Mama Sarah, just had a baby boy that morning! Esther and I stopped by to see the beautiful babe and give our congratulations! Musa was so excited! Its their third child! So it was nice to celebrate a miracle that day, a new human being entered the world that day into a healthy loving family.

The day before Zanaib passed on, when I was at church trying to make it through another church service with malaria, a woman came up to me after church. She asked, “Do you remember me?” She looked so familiar and yet I couldn’t place her! Then she told me her name was Janet and then it clicked. I was like WHAT?! I had met Janet last year in October when she was really sick and then she had disappeared and I thought that she had died. But here she stood before me, beautiful, healthy and shining!

She was the first person that I knew that I thought had died from HIV/AIDS. After that happened, I had heard that news, I went through this stage where I was afraid to leave Dodoma in case a patient got really serious and none of us were around to respond. I had all this fear, anxiety, and guilt that it was our fault she had died---or we thought had died. Janet first came to us when she had just discovered she was positive. She had been working in a bar for ten year. She had finished Standard 7 (like Grade 6), moved to Dodoma and started working, and later had a child, but the father abandoned her later. She was sick, she wanted counseling and assistance. She had come in the office, told her story and started to cry. Mama K counseled her and told her to take courage. I took her to the clothes room and she got some extra clothes for herself and her daughter. Her five year old daughter was named Fiustina. Her mom had come from the village to take care of her. When Janet came to us one Sunday back in October again when she was feeling worse and really sick, she arrived early to walk before the sun came out. I was preaching that Sunday in church, and she came for the English and Swahili service. After the service we took her to Mirembe hospital with Mama Kenyuko. Her friend told us that her mom had just left her and taken her daughter with her. She was alone now, abandoned by her own mother. She was admitted into the hospital for a night and then returned home. Two weeks later a friend said that she had died. (I guess they didn’t know); she had just disappeared. Thankfully they were wrong.

When I saw her, I asked what happened? She said that her mom had returned to bring her back to the village near Mivume. There she took care of her and helped to nurse her back to health. There is a really good Anglican hospital in Mivume, where she later went and was able to check her CD4 which was about 30 at the time (very low); and then started ARV’s. After five months, her CD4 had jumped back up to 150! Amazing! She had eaten well and was well taken care of. I was so glad to see her, I can’t even explain it. She was a miracle. She looked incredible, healthy and strong. And she was vibrant, laughing and joking around, like a new person. I signed her up for the Food Relief because she decided now to move back to Dodoma and was still looking for new work and didn’t have much to eat at home. We talked for a long time after church, and it gave me a radiant sense of hope. She came to the worship service on Wednesday as well and wants her kid to go to nursery school at the church. I think seeing how well she is now has been one of the biggest encouragements this year.

And then, there is another beautiful woman who entered my life awhile ago named Agnus. We recently got her sweet little three year old daughter to be sponsored under the Compassion program once we got to know her and Compassion wanted to sponsor six more kids. When I met Agnus in March, she could barely walk. She had been sick for almost half a year. The first time I saw her I went with Joyce Bokke and Baba Matthew—her relative who had come to us to see if we could help his niece (Agnus). He had come to the office one day and said his neice was sick but was not ready to go and be tested for HIV although she was showing symptoms. We advised him to counsel her to go and be tested at the General Hospital and so he took her letting her sit on his bicycle as he pushed her along on foot. Baba Matthew only discovered last year that he was HIV positive. He is around 60 years of age. He is receiving assistance through the Compassion program right now, and he and his wife are doing well. He comes on his bike from Chinoya every day to get milk from the church. Chinoya is located by this beautiful green hill about a 30 minute walk from Kikuyu.

Agnus had refused to go and see a doctor for a long time. She had been living in Mbeya with her husband and daughter, and then moved up to Dodoma to stay with her mom because she was very sick in October/November. She tried to work for awhile but then had to stop because she was too sick to leave her bed, or the house. She then later received news in January that her husband died (most likely AIDS). I remember the day we walked to Chinoya to visit Agnus for the first time.After Baba Matthew had taken her to be tested and her result was positive we decided to go see her. We walked into the house and were warmly greeted by her mom, Margaret. Then we went into the room where Agnus was laying down. The room was dark except for a small window which let in some light. We greeted Agnus and she turned over and greeted us back. She sounded very depressed. Her face said it all, solemn, sad, strained. She sat up a bit revealed her thin shoulders and tiny frame. She is 23, a year younger than me. She seemed weak and helpless. She was still very sick. She was coughing a lot, suffered from pains, and a type of STD that had been bothering her for many months; she had open sores in her genital area that was making it very painful and difficult to walk. She was also still throwing up a lot, was suffering from diaareah. She had refused to go to a doctor for a long time. It wasn’t until Baba Matthew counseled her again and said that the people at the Mennonite church including an mzungu, advised that she go be tested for HIV—then she finally decided to go.

Once Bokke and I saw her, we decided to bring her to Village of Hope hospital instead of letting her go to the Gereral Hospital. The services are not completely free at VOH, but the treatment is better, and we decided to get her the best help possibly available because her condition was not good. So the next day we told them to meet us at the church and we would take them by taxi to the clinic. They came early in the morning, again, Agnus had to sit on a bicycle while her uncle pushed the bike along from their home to the church because of her difficulty walking. Agnus also brought her daughter Neema with her (3 years old) to be tested at VOH.

Rehema and her son Paulo (who are also in our program—both have HIV) came with us that day to the hospital as well. Rehema had just taken Paulo to General Hospital and found out he had HIV. He has been suffering from TB for the last 8 months, and been in and out of school. When she came and told me in the office awhile back, she started to cry a lot. We told her we would take them to VOH---which was created especially for children with AIDS.

When we took everyone to the clinic, Agnus was subdued, silent, and depressed. It was hard for me to talk to her. She smiled grimly, and again she could barely walk due to her sores, making her very uncomfortable even when she sat. Rehema was also very down. I remember sitting on the waiting bench with Bokke when we went back with all of them the following day to pick up the results. I got the paper from the doctor’s office which said that Neema was HIV negative! We were so happy and told Agnus who also breathed a sigh of relief and praised God. Bokke was like, “thank you God thank you God!”…everyone seemed thrilled and relieved. And then I looked over at Rehema and noticed her head was down and her cloth covered her face. She was crying. Paulo was sitting on her lap. Was she crying because she had recently found out Paulo was positive, and hearing this good news, reminded her that her child had HIV? Was it guilt, was it sorrow? She wept silently. Bokke then tried to counsel her and told her to stop crying, things would be ok. Now they were both going to get good health care. Paulo’s father disappeared a long time ago, now both of them are living with her parents. There is still so much pain in Rehema’s eyes, which often makes me hard to say anything, because what exactly can I say to take all that pain away? It just sits in my head and heart and I remember her eyes. She needs healing—emotionally, spiritually, physically, please remember her in prayer. She needs work, she needs to see her gifts and talents put to use, and she needs to see Paulo improve, to be healthy and stay in school, to play and chase other kids without worrying. She needs confidence, wholeness, to be restored, complete, feel purposeful and at peace, like we all do. That day, Agnus got medicine and Paulo was checked out more thoroughly although he still needs more attention. We brought them home and returned to the church.

Agnus and her little girl Neema came to the church the Saturday I also took Dr. Peter to go see Zainab, two days before she passed away. Before I left, I sat outside with Agnus and talked while Neema shyly patted my arm and shirt and smiled. She is adorable. She had been escorted via bicycle that day and her sister had come with Neema too. Neema had to get her picture taken for the sponsorship program. We sat outside and laughed and talked for a long time. Agnus was different now, she was really funny and talked about how she wanted to go back to school (she finished Standard 5) like Grade 5, and then dropped out because of school fees. She was faring much better now that her health was improving, and she was in better spirits, although walking was still difficult.

The day after Zainab’s funeral, Agnus came to the church because I told her we could go to another hospital/dispensary Mirembe where we could get her any other medicine she needed for some of her infections. That day she walked from home to the church. It was the third day she had done so; none of us had been available to escort her to Mirembe until Wednesday. She showed up early, and I invited her to come to the morning devotion. We then set off to Mirembe and I asked if she wanted a taxi, but she refused and said she wanted to walk. She was laughing and joking the entire walk there, and although she had never been to Mirembe, she knew the directions better than I did. When we arrived at Mirembe we went to the special clinic. Mama Kenyuko met us there too. She is the head nurse of that hospital, and she is the Director of our Health Program at the church. She is an awesome lady. We went to the HIV/AIDS counseling center/office and there I talked to Eva, the head counselor. We will start referring more patients to Mirembe; things are free and accessible there, less crowded then General, ARV’s are now available there, as well as CD4 testing (they will use the government machine form General but will get the results faster than testing at General—yeah it doesn’t quite make sense but that’s the case).

I had made some chai and put it in thermos and PBJ sandwhiches and gave it to Agnus when I went to talk to the counselor to learn about their services etc. She had been laughing at me cause she was wondering why I had been carrying a big bag (as usual) and didn’t know there was food inside. Agnus got some extra medicine and then we set off again this time, she grabbed my bag and wouldn’t let me carry it. While we were walking back she asked how Rehema was doing. I said I thought she was doing alright and then asked if she wanted to visit her and she enthusiastically agreed. When we entered the house Agnus hugged Rehema like an old friend, and I was totally amazed at the general improvement of Agnus compared to when I had seen her last and how immediately encouraging she was to Rehema. She has such spirit and joy and she exclaimed how happy she was despite some of her health problems. I could tell that her joy, charisma and optimism was starting to infect Rehema, and it was a beautiful moment. I could see such potential in Agnus as a natural HBC caregiver since she was so assured and was starting explaining the medicine she was taking and giving advice to Rehema. Paulo sat on my lap and as I put my hands on his back I could feel the deep, rough rumble from his breathing from the TB. He still needs more attention. Please pray for this child’s health.

Agnus and I left and went back to the church. Agnus wanted to stay at the church and wait for the afternoon church service. She started helping Ruth pull out her extensions. Janet, the other woman who had just returned to Dodoma, also came to talk and attend the service. The worship was lively as usual. I sat with Agnus, and she was dancing like crazy. During the Shuhuda/Thanks time, Agnus got up to the front of the church, and praised God for taking care of her, she explained that she had been really sick, but now she could walk. She then sang a solo-song and danced around! I was so humbled by her passion, charisma, faith, hope and strength of spirit. I saw the real Agnus that day. I felt radically blessed and inspired by her courage, even just to get up there, and words of praise and thanks. She was so beautiful.

I talked to another friend later in the week who also deeply encouraged me. When I told him about the death of our friend Zainab, and then these other miracles/encouragements that happened the same week, he said, “Jo, you are well taken care of; we are taken care of.” I paused. What does that mean exactly? For the first time in my life, maybe I could believe it really, at least for a moment. God is greater than all our worries and anxieties and burdens, and everything good comes from Him, for our sakes he became human, he became poor and broken so he could heal us and make us whole again. The God of love, peace and shalom is here with us, looking out for each one of us who is lost, sick, in pain. The suffering servant is here and is trustworthy to heal, restore and give. He holds us. And yet, I still struggle because there is so much pain, and there is so much death—it’s hard to believe in some things and yet believing is the only thing worth holding on to. With so much pain and suffering, I can sometimes only focus on that---its not wrong to experience this pain or to feel other’s pain, in fact we are supposed to if we are restorable creatures of God—but we can’t forget the beauty, love, hope that is alive and around us. We have to enjoy each day we are blessed with---and praise God for the gifts of those around us and creation itself, as we yearn for its complete redemption one day and continual in-breaking redemption today. I guess Embracing life is part of solidarity with suffering. It is part of acknowledging, envisioning and redeeming what is good, and actively partaking in that good and extending it into the spheres that are dark, hopeless and painful in our own hearts and those around us. And when I say this I am not trying to even give some “religious hopeful message.” The truth is, if I didn’t have some kind of other hope for a new redeemed creation, and tried to reach out to all the suffering around me and the pain and brokenness in my own heart, I’m not sure I would want to exist. I wouldn’t want to even step one foot on this planet, because to know the true reality of suffering is too much for me. (And yet when I say that, I also disagree with myself, because when I think of others who are dying of AIDS, or children in Hebron who are harassed on their way to school, I think it’s a sin to selfishly want to not exist when others are suffering alone or humiliation. So even if I had no hope in something better one day, it is better to love and live anyway). But As a human being, I don’t know if I would want to be human if I couldn’t believe that things will be righted, there will be a resurrection, that if I lost a child one day, I would know I would not be separated from them forever. It doesn’t take away all the pain, but it brings some kind of peace. But this also propels me to want to live in this redemption, to work for justice and peace alongside those, whoever they are, who care enough about their human beings, their brothers and sisters to take care of them and love them however much it kills me and breaks me, and proclaim this message of hope which has relevance now and forever.

I wrote this poem for Zainab on May 11, 2006.

MUNGU YUPO
Mungu Yupo
She speaks through
a coughing throat
strangling her words
but still cannot distort
their truth

Mungu Yupo
She cries silently
struggling to sit up
sipping slowly her
glass of milk
soothing the roughness,
the pain, the hunger
she smiles meekly

Mungu Yupo
She says again
Lifts up her head
face turning to stare
out the window
while more sunlight
envelops her
tired frame

Mungu Yupo
We groan out of our own
shuddering depths
confused, numb,
eyes dimmed in
our decay
are you down here?
are you with us?
are you in us?
or hovering at a distance
watching, only watching
I scream

Mungu Yupo
Feeling sickness
in the flesh
unbinding the power
of shame
fear and misery
weeping for death till death,
suffering until it
squeezed no more
that even silence hushed

Mungu Yupo
embracing our heartache
redeeming lost beauty
falling,
like the bones
cast on the bones
that sprung back to life

We open our eyes and pray
Mungu Yupo

Here is a picture I took in December; the blog entry and story is called Solidarity.

Since the day I wrote it I kept thinking of a greater truth.
I think God is in the middle, not the just the sorrounding people. It is the picture of a suffering, weak, vulnerable Jesus. Our suffering servant. He is the one who feels shame, fear, loneliness, rejection, stigma and betrayal. The one who identifies with us, is IN us, is in our suffering. This is True Solidarity. This is Emmanuel, God with us, God in us, the incarnate presence of Jesus in the suffering of the world, IN OUR FLESH. Jesus experienced all pain or suffering we are undergoing because he felt it when he walked on earth and on the way to crucifixion. True loving tangible compassion. I caught a glimpse of a Passion film being played at an internet café in preparation for Easter. I only watched a bit, and then left in tears. seeing Jesus standing, stripped and bleeding reminded me of Zainab, whom I had seen that morning during Easter week, laying naked on the bed, crying and whimpering as we held her and Mama Sorry and I washed her body cleaning up her faeces, as she complained and sometimes screamed. She was starting to have severe psychological and psychiatric problems.

How could God show such solidarity? Only a God who can identify with and experience human suffering is a God who I can truly love. Only God who knows our pain, can bring healing and restoration to that pain. Only God who suffers with us, inside us, groans with us, is truly Emmanuel. Not just being present, alongside---which he is---but actually taking on all our suffering on himself---bringing true holistic healing and redemption. And being in us, with us whether we realize it or not. Perhaps that it’s the only comforting and yet still painful thing about facing death, sickness, injustice…it still needs the hope of resurrection and new life, and tangible experiences of the kingdom here, but at least we can pray to a God who prayed for us, broken and on his knees, with tears of blood, when he lived with us, ate with us, brought us hope, joy, embraced us, healed us, freed us, and then suffered with us---all of this to make us whole again.

This is not an argument for some kind of divinely sanctioned suffering, and therefore an acceptance of human suffering on our part. I think it just helps us not feel alone when we suffer, and realize as imitators of God we don’t leave others who are suffering alone as our God did not leave us alone but lived through it to bring the restoration of all creation.

We need to speak the truth of God’s love which is abounding, unstoppable, covenantal—not condemning or judging---no matter how much we mess up, like the prophet’s love for his wife Gomer; we individuals are called to love, love and love—helping others get on the path of redemption which we are all on. His love is forever. In the words of Hassan from Kite Runner, “for you a thousand times over!”

This whole thing has been really hard to write. Because I still have all these memories and emotions which I can’t express. And moments I can’t do justice too. Often when I feel like there is too much to say I don’t want to even try, because I know I won’t like anything I say or it won’t sound right. But, I felt it important to tell some of the story of Zainab. But its only my perspective. I am glad I met Zainab and we were able to help her and that she became a friend to us. But I am still really sad, and still think about what happened, what we could have done better, and I think about her children.

When I was really sick this month for a few days (I was cemented to my bed) I didn’t know what was wrong for the first couple days and I felt awful. It made me think what it could be like to be sick and wonder if I was HIV positive. What would I do if I had HIV? How would I react? It is a scary thing to think about. If I wasn’t careful in taking care of somebody, if my future husband or I was a carrier? I can’t totally imagine getting really sick again for a long time and I think I would freeze with worry if I thought it could be HIV + which is too common, if didn’t know what was wrong immediately. When I was sick physically, I didn’t sleep very well but instead kept thinking about people I knew that were really sick, especially one person who is not doing very well right now. In fact she was just readmitted into the hospital just recently. It was a really agonizing time, and I thought about Zainab a lot too. Remembering. Thinking of her children, especially Neema.

Malewa, Nairobi, Brilliant

2006-05-27T14:47:00.000-07:00

Here are some pictures from my trip to Kenya in January! This is an old update i never finished to post but better late than never cause some major posts of the last few months are coming...

I spent time with Margaret while visiting Rosslyn. It was wonderful to drink chai with her and show her all the new baby pictures of Benjamin, Rosie and Jillian. I talked with her and Wanjella late into the evening. I couldn't believe it had been 5 years since I was last in Kenya, crazy. If I had known that would be the case when i stepped on a plane from Jomo Kenyatta airport freshman year of college I may have jumped back off the plane.

Here is a picture of Matt Scwhandt and baby girl at Rosslyn.

I went to visit Than in Malewa, where he was volunteering. Building outdoor recreational climbing/ ropes courses, and doing tons of other stuff. We had to go rescue a dead camel one morning that had fallen and drowned in a river. I got a pic of Than falling in the water. I think he got scared when he touched it and it said his name. not really. The camels stomach was so bloated and hard people were standing on it. They failed trying to tie it with ropes and dragging it up a steep bank via land rover. The ropes snapped and almost took off someones head! there were way too many trees and brush and the camel kept flopping over with its dangly legs like it was also going to drop kick someone. They knifed the stomach to see if they could get some water out since he was so heavy, but it just let out this putrid air, gas, that had made it so hard in the first place. they then decided it best to chop it up and then remove it from the premises.

it was a wonderful relaxing time with Than though, I really needed a break/vacation at that point in time!

Malewa was absolutley gorgeous. Its a animal conservation/ eco-tourism site.

While in Nairobi with Than I did some essential and non-essential things like cut my hair, bought real coffee, went out for ethi, went to a movie (Narnia)and saw another one of my old bestest friends, Mac, our beloved border collie. It was an awesome trip, and great to meet old friends again. I was a bit in culture shock part of the time. Running hot water. Grocery stores too big for their own good. The new US embassy housing. crazy. crazy thing was I walked out of village market and saw the housing and it reminded me exactly of what Israeli settlements look like in the West Bank. it was just bizarre. Then Than had a good laugh at me when i ordered an incredible breakfast (omelette) and a latte (A LATTE!) and i was getting stressed knowing what to eat or sip first, my head was spinning i could feel my shoulders rocking and my hands hesitating what to do next. thats so pathetic.

had some wonderful visits with great people...thanks to Melanie Mckee and the Harrell's for letting me crash with them!

Kenya still feels like home to me in many ways. Just the drive to Nairobi through the rift valley brought back floods of memories and emotions. I love it immensely, and look forward to exploring more of it and meeting the wonderful people that reside there.

alright below is me and mac!

2006-03-28T08:26:00.000-08:00

giving life to all shapes
bringing meaning, definition
striking lines that captivate our eyes
you take the darkness’ breath away

inspiring every figure
every dancing body
shimmering water
shining faces
outlining the presence of the giver
who gives within and without

nothing can escape
your penetrative imminence,
you are invisible
making all things visible
indefinable,
yet definer of all things
seen and unseen

inherently mesmerizing
and externally extending
into atmospheric realities
speaking the ancient tongue
through your touch
allowing new creation to speak
all divine reinvigoration

can we study you?
or do you study us?
un-static life force
we move and breathe
and have our being

nothing can stop
the advancement of your
delicate fingered rays
that draw, sculpt and mold us
forming all into being

harkening, emboldening
discovering, releasing
your indwelling force
encapsulating the energy
of your kindred elements
shadows falling then arising
disappearing yet creeping slowly
back up the gentle dresses of the slopes
to the kissing peak
empowering consummations

where light meets light

speaking the unspoken word
you silently whisper your testimony
so we can fall in love
and make love
in the beauty and mystery
you render
amongst the indwelling fading glow
and outpouring of
your brilliant luminosity

when stoic forces stretch
we know you do not sleep
but speak your radiance
elsewhere until you return
transforming yesterday’s drear
into a new morning

are we only wading
in shallow immersions of your
perceived unfathomable dimension,
unknowingly?
are we still waiting for you
half-hidden
half-sheltered
in shacks with tiny cracks that still
shine through uplifted, revolving
streaks of moving dust
suffocating our lungs and hearts?

doesn’t one sun ray
through a tiny hole reveal
we are not as destitute
as we might think
for you are not even afraid
of our darkness
for it is like day to you?

there is no hiding from you.

but often we are still
bed-ridden below
your destination of love
which strikes the ground,
rolling it all away
into an abyss

we are still waiting for you
to fully cast your gaze
as we step freely inside you
and let you trace our nakedness
on fresh, crisp paper
and finally breathe clean air again

but we have always been
fed from your touch
between the sweet blades of grass
birthed in dirt and showers
pastel colors soaked for centuries,
ages and eternity
for travel is timeless, spaceless
endless in your eyes

we cannot articulate
the silence of your powerful words
crying out of our unforsaken form
speaking volumes, filling pages

no language can declare
the burning pulsations of your voice
day after day

breaking silence with silence
leaving us in awe
over golden landscapes
and tender casts upon
sleeping forms interwoven
like the shadow dances
of butterfiles
dangling on window walls

lustrous shafts enveloping
the crossed beams
flowing through your veins
seen in the old oak doorways
imprinting the break
between earth and heaven

we are bathed in your current
drowned in the power of it all
uplifted in the waves of your pursuit
whether we know it or not

for we shall one day see fully
we shall one day love deeply
when we step into the space

Where light meets light

In Memory of Tom Fox, CPT activist killed in Iraq

2006-03-11T04:58:00.000-08:00

The following words were written by Tom Fox the day before he was abducted in Iraq in November last year:

Why are we here?

If I understand the message of God, his response to that question is that we
are to take part in the creation of the Peaceable Realm of God. Again, if I
understand the message of God, how we take part in the creation of this
realm is to love God with all our heart, our mind and our strength and to
love our neighbors and enemies as we love God and ourselves. In its
essential form, different aspects of love bring about the creation of the
realm.

I have read that the word in the Greek Bible that is translated as "love" is
the word "agape." Again, I have read that this word is best expressed as a
profound respect for all human beings simply for the fact that they are all
God's children. I would state that idea in a somewhat different way, as
"never thinking or doing anything that would dehumanize one of my fellow
human beings."

As I survey the landscape here in Iraq, dehumanization seems to be the
operative means of relating to each other. U.S. forces in their quest to
hunt down and kill "terrorists" are, as a result of this dehumanizing word,
not only killing "terrorists," but also killing innocent Iraqis: men, women
and children in the various towns and villages.

It seems as if the first step down the road to violence is taken when I
dehumanize a person. That violence might stay within my thoughts or find its
way into the outer world and become expressed verbally, psychologically,
structurally or physically. As soon as I rob a fellow human being of his or
her humanity by sticking a dehumanizing label on them, I begin the process
that can have, as an end result, torture, injury and death.

"Why are we here?" We are here to root out all aspects of dehumanization
that exist within us. We are here to stand with those being dehumanized by
oppressors and stand firm against that dehumanization. We are here to stop
people, including ourselves, from dehumanizing any of God's children, no
matter how much they dehumanize their own souls.

Release from CPT

In grief we tremble before God who wraps us with compassion. The death of our beloved colleague and friend pierces us with pain. Tom Fox’s body was found in Baghdad yesterday.

Christian Peacemaker Teams extends our deep and heartfelt condolences to the family and community of Tom Fox, with whom we have traveled so closely in these days of crisis.

We mourn the loss of Tom Fox who combined a lightness of spirit, a firm opposition to all oppression, and the recognition of God in everyone.

We renew our plea for the safe release of Harmeet Sooden, Jim Loney and Norman Kember. Each of our teammates has responded to Jesus’ prophetic call to live out a nonviolent alternative to the cycle of violence and revenge.

www.cpt.org

your words

2006-03-03T03:38:00.000-08:00

couldn't delete them
messages for my eyes only
words of love
words of the cup

wind of peace
powerful stream
blowing our souls along
together than apart
mysterious vision
dancing colision

is there stillness in the wind?
a few moments
a place to rest
a place to harbor
a place to linger
under the howling olive tree
when the flash floods of the world cease
so you and i can meet again

can the stream bring back the dove
that carried the first message of my heart
from this body of fear
when you captured me
above the waters
in the ache of the wind

jan. 28-'06

Drink Thy Cup

2006-03-01T09:30:00.001-08:00

tired of being scared
scarred by old wounds
by fear, by love
but when you came to me last night
your whispers comforted me
as you gently put your lips to my ear and said,

"hold up the cup to your lips
my love, and take courage,
drink deeply, fully
till it runs down your chin,
drink my love full of sorrows and joys
dont be afraid of what the future may bring
dont be afraid of what will happen to us,
just drink me. drink this day, this life.
its bound to be beautiful,
its bound to break us
its bound to heal us
its bound to bring us together."

lover of my heart, soul and body
tis better to drink
the sweetness and bitterness
than to only stare at your own pale eyes
in a stale reflection

to not drink at all,
to hold and cherish at a distance
but not taste the wine of love,
the wine of life,
is the real waste.

strong enough to sting my wounds
to make me weep
to make me feel joy
enough to warm my bones
chiding a freedom song
overcoming the bitter dregs

oh my love
no longer afraid to drink the cup
it is the only true cup
it is the cup of our love
the cup of humanity

although we remain
in the garden of fear
my anxious friend
anxious soul
bleeds for me
desiring your touch
but afraid to wound you,
disapoint you
refuse you,
rebuke you,
fail you.

you once again say
lift up your cup love,
take courage, my love
Drink me,
love me,
be with me.

this cup is eternal
this friendship is eternal
this love is eternal
nothing can break it,
not even the painful sorrows,
feelings of a dark eternity
hopelessness
these stalling demons

love without
turmoiling shadows
cannot be tested
cannot be real
cannot be true

splash in the wine of the cup
bathe in it
pour it over your head
drink it fully my love
to find the freedom
surrender to the cup
dance with it
dance with me

Poems on Love and Stigma Ctd.

2006-02-24T06:47:00.000-08:00

Turn around now
And you’ll see
That rusty drabby
Tear stained cloth
Stranded on the seat
Stealthily slipping off
to kiss forbidden ground

turn around now
and you’ll see the wet outlined path
of my feet drying up
rising slowly
into the sweltering heat

Turn around now
And you will know
The emptiness I felt when you
You didn’t have the heart
To say the words,
“I’m yours.”

turn around now
and you will see
I had to stop looking at you

No more
No more
No more…

Its late
you lost her
she’s gone
a song unsung
a deed undone
Although you worshipped the ground
she walked on
In the whispers of your prayers.

slowly slipping into the woods
Deep, eretheal, escapist branches
Entangling fates strangling missed chances
Unchosen, uncarved, unwoven strands
Uncrossed hands
Unborn romances

The darkness called her
Promising to hide
her anger, fear, guilt, and hate
all bitterness raged and pushed her
soul down to the depths
of the river Sheol

that stream was heard in those haunted woods
as she walked on
walked on
walked on

attempts to find the place to lay her head
a lovers sea
a warm fire
something sweet to eat

another broken beauty,
like them all
but no-one was quite like her
in inequity, creative perplexity
her tenacious disability
to truly love

waiting to be held
waiting for the one to mend
another selfish action
another selfish inaction
complacently numbed detachment
discontentment
unhealed cold resentment
rewriting the science of cynicism
to unstring her mistrusted attachment
...dying in fear

her tattered, wings
birthed in the shadows
brilliant in the sun
invisible in the darkness
desiring to lift off again
to be one with the air, the clouds,
the heavens...

no more washed out faded beauty
longing to sing the unheard melody
longing to paint the visions of creation
and recreate the future
to face the darkness
to call into being
the lamb, the child and the lion
and ascend the mount of serenity
mount of tranquilitation
before the fires could consume all life

but all you could do was whisper
a prayer underneath your breath
taken in by her love and beauty
yet afraid of her capability to inflict pain
afraid again to drink her cup
thoughts intermingling like fresh clear water
in a polluted stream

but you prayed shed be yours
but your words weren’t enough
and she forced herself to run a way
moving towards those woods
walking on
walking on
walking on

unable to hear your voice
feel your presence
or touch your hand
she’s walking on
she’s walking on

taking all her strength
to not look back
or try to make out
another hazy whisper
or assume a secret declaration

taking all her strength
to quench the desire
to hear those words at last,
to taste them from your tongue

you couldn’t give her what she needed
you couldn’t make love to her soul
you couldn’t soothe her brokenness
you tried to whisper it into being
incantations to bring the courage
that was not there

choked-up whispered prayers
that could not reach her heart
she could not hear your languished love
disappearing into the woods
famished from your
passionate deafened echoes
incapable of reaching her ears

even holy chants
speak nothing to the power of your feet
if you ran and swept her up
kissing her before
she had a chance to breathe.

she’s finished wrestling with God
ready to enter the night crested woods
and she’s finished wrestling with you
she drank half the cup
wanting to save the other half for you
your hesitancy spoke refusal
to drink with her
so now she’ll drink alone.

she’s ready to face them

if only you would go with her to fight the demons
the battles that raged her soul and world
she’d have stopped singing the fearful song
she wouldn’t feel alone

but if emmanuel can show his face
and stand with her in front of the powers
she won’t linger in the forbidden song

all she needs is
to stand in Peace
with nothing more to hold
but the passion to love and think and be
the desire to kiss the child
and to clasp the life of a weakened soul
falling on her face to cry and bleed
rather than allowing herself
to pull a trigger
and make violence her accomplice
oh god
she needs
she needs
she needs you
but she still
wants you
loves you
loves you

maybe she’ll begin to whisper your prayers
the last words she heard from you

“God is with you,
God is with you,
God is with me
God is with me…”

She’ll cry deep into the night
Drowned in the inescapable woods now
No turning back
But Emmanuel will come
And can spur her to do the things
you couldn’t be with her to do

love in motion
the vision of the way
no more violent reactions
pangs of hunger’s greed
stealing poor-mans food
stealing lepers food
stigma’s sting of unclean

hearts
minds
bodies
families
communities
powers
planet

immersing seven times
she will rise in hope again
even if she faces the darkness alone
another shall one day calm the lonely cries
stormy seas, and pain in her eyes
oh God don’t forsake her.
Don’t you dare
Don’t you dare

Or it’s too late
For everything

2006-02-24T06:10:00.000-08:00

Is it freedom or a curse that you or I could love another?

2006-01-28T08:06:00.000-08:00

"If you preach the gospel in all aspects, with the exception of the issues which deal specifically with your time,” said the reformer Martin Luther, “you are not preaching the gospel at all.” Instead, let us raise up an army of “peculiar” people who take no weapon but the Word and who hail the enemy as one would a friend, all the while keeping our eyes on Christ. It is this gaze that will redeem our historical moment. It’s the only thing that ever has.

Rose Marie Berger

where have I been the last two months?

2006-01-21T06:28:00.000-08:00

I have been really busy the last two months traveling for the first couple weeks in January and then arriving back in Dodoma to help write proposals for the HIV/AIDS program here. My computer at home hasn't been working so its been a little tought to write up things to post on this blog. Lets face it though, maybe I'll never be a faithful blogger like some =). There is a lot I would like to share about and I would like to do a lot of it through photographs (most of the time images are prettier than words) The following pictures were taken on Lake Victoria in a town called Mwanza. My friend Joyce and I "trained" it to Mwanza (about 24 hours) enjoying a cup of tea in the resto-cart. I stayed with Joyce for a night and had fish from Lake Victoria for lunch, dinner, and breakfast, hmmm. I also met her beautiful, hilarious son Antony who is just a little Joyce (talks a lot and laughs and dances like his mama too). (I have to say I feel so happy right now, I think its because I am listening to kexp.org world streaming archive, I also locked on to iranianradio.com beforehand-- one of my faves, but i get a bit tired of it after awhile, but it brings back memories of dancing with my neice Rosie last year, man where does the time go! I had no idea I would be landed and living, in the land of the living, in Tanzania a year ago)

Beautiful Lake Victoria kama oceana splendida, ajabujabu.

I attended a memorial service for Joe Shenk, a missionary with Eastern Mennonite Missions and MCC who died last year in a car accident while living in Musoma Tanzania. Joe was born and raised in Tanzania, and had returned with his wife Edith two years ago to work at the Mennonite Theological Seminary in Musoma (where the pastor of our church Mannesseh studied). many of Joe and Edith's family traveled from the States to be at the memorial. All of his five daughters and their families came for the service and to spend some time in Tanzania with Edith. His younger brother Daniel Shenk was also there. It was a powerful service. I remember the choir sang some songs written for Joe which had me in tears. I never met him but I could tell he was dearly loved, respected, and treasured here. His daughter Rose, lost her husband the same week that Joe died in the hospital in a car accident. She has four boys (1,3,6,9) (Jacob, Daniel, Andrew and Christian-beautiful boys). They were very cute. I kind of fell in love with them.

I travelled to Nairobi with Rose and her four boys from Musoma after I went with Rodney, Barb, Janae, Trevor, and Levi (also very smart and cute kids!) (the MCC TZ reps) to Jan's wedding in Mugumu TZ. Jan has been working under MCC the last 6 years as a coordinator for an HIV AIDS project. She's amazing and speaks wicked swahili (meaning awesome). She married Kajungu who is the youth coordinator of the program there. Also very cool (yes I could decipher the coolness after maybe two brief conversations =)). Very cool wedding. A goat was the "wedding cake". It was beautiful and it rained that day as well. A sure sign of blessing. Jan had 13 family members from Virginia there. Had a nice conversation with one of them on fly fishing in Alaska. Dont remember any details though. Remember, I am writing this all two months late.

The drought there was horrible though. Someone told me that people get up at 3 in the morning to walk to the water holes/wells because the lines are so long. Like Dodoma, things are very dry right now. The following pictures are of Rodney and Levi during the service for Joe Shenk, then a picture of Jacob, Rose's youngest, and his nanny. Then some pictures of Jan's wedding. I also hung out with Nick the other Tanzanian Salter who is teaching science at the nursing school in Mugumu. He like me, joined the church choir. I met lots of his students who were hilarious and forced me into their dorm rooms and fed us fish and tea. Nick is doing super great, his swahili kicks mine. Mines improving but maybe I have to try harder =). He is living with a fun family, and his host father does not let Nick out of the house after 6 pm or else there is big trouble. Nick had the funniest story about being attacked by safari ants in the middle of the night after two weeks in Mugumu. There was no electricity so he just jumped up and was scrambling around calling for someone to turn on a lantern so he could see what was going on! His host dad Nyamataga, finally got a light on, and stood on a chair escaping the ants and kept clapping his hands and exclaiming to Nick, "Serving and Learning Together! Serving and Learning Together!" (that what the acronym of the SALT program (which Nick and I are in) stands for. I laughed pretty hard! I had dinner with his family, and they were fun.

and more to be continued later freinds!

A Visit to a family with ten children, including four orphans

2006-01-19T05:12:00.000-08:00

Solidarity

2005-12-29T10:35:00.000-08:00

(first photo taken by Dan Holcomb-LAHASH; the rest are my photos)

Zana is so weak that she can’t walk. She is only 31 years old. She mainly sleeps most of the day on her thin mattress which lay in four separate strips forcing her to lay part way between cracks. She became so sick a few months ago that she stopped walking and exercising and now her legs and muscles have atrophied. After being seriously sick a couple months ago, a member of our church Mzee Mwita and a few others went to see herand encourage her to be tested at the hospital to see what was wrong. After she went, she found out she was HIV positive which was causing a lot of problems—chronic diarrhea, bad chest cough, bad headaches...some of the possible symptoms of HIV. Now the church and our program have been visiting and bringing food to her at home to increase her diet (which hasn’t been so successful because her daughters aren’t always taking care of her—one of them is never around) and some people have stolen some of her food.

Zana is not getting any exercise for her legs or sitting up, going outside to get fresh air, or eating enough. Her care-givers are her two young daughters who haven’t been able to care for her adequately. She is coughing a lot and shakes her whole body every time she sits or gets up. Her emotional and psychological state has changed quite a bit too since the first time I saw her. The last few weeks my friend Joyce and I have been taking her to the hospital to get some extra tests done to see what kind of ARV treatment she will need. We were able to use the pastors car to take her to check CD4 to see if she needs ARVs and go get an x-ray done at another hospital. We had to carry her or hold her up as her long, thin legs took gigantic steps. We had to guide her into the testing rooms, and she was exhausted, tired and sore at the end of each day...sometimes smiling and saying a few words, but often in a lot of pain and discomfort.

Last week we again had access to the pastor’s car a bit so we have been driving to Ipagala with Joyce to pick her up and drive out to Tumaini Clinic (Village of Hope). Because Zana can’t walk it seemed the best mode of transport—either that or a very expensive taxi ride.

We took her by car last week Wednesday (Dec.21) for some multiple tests and needed to go back with her to get the answers, results that same week. We had come to her house to pick her up to go Thursday but one her oldest daughter Monica was not there to go with us to the hospital—which was necessary so that she could get more information on how to take care of her at home. Even though we told her to be ready, she decided to go to the market that day. (I’m not completely clear but there are some uneasy relationships between the oldest daughter and her mother Zana).

So we decided to go take Zana back to the hospital on Friday (December 23) even though we didn’t have a vehicle that day. Joyce and I got up early and headed to Zana’s house which is about 5 km from town center. The hospital is another 5 km from the house of Zana in Ipagala. We decided that we would try to get Zana to the hospital by dala dala (small-van-taxi, which is very inexpensive). We had to figure out another way to get her there without a car.

We tried to bargain and make a deal with the dala dala drivers to go pick Zana up on route to the hospital. One agreed and then failed to do so, so we had to get on another dala dala and backtrack a bit. We then walked to the second dala dala stand and asked if the driver could take us to the house and then the hospital and he made a ridiculous offer (50,000 shillings—almost the equivalent of 50 USD). Joyce and I laughed pretty hard and walked away, and Joyce kept commenting that we’d find another way.

That week, the story of the paralytic being carried on a mat by his friends to Jesus kept coming to mind. I sort of began questioning the necessity of the vehicle. I was uncomfortable using a car too much, because I didn’t want it to be an expectation, or assumption that we would always have a car—and that’s what we were good for---even though it can be convenient--- I was beginning to feel like whenever we drove a car we became a “material” resource rather than a “personal” resource. This program is still small enough that we don’t need a car right now—(maybe later).

I’d rather ride my bike in the sunshine anyway and put any food donations on the back seat or "chicken seat” when we go visit people. And of course the other problem with cars—their expensive to operate and they pollute! I ran out of gas five times last week so did my fair share of walking to gas stations with an empty bucket (yeah maybe I could have been more attentive but we have to be so thrifty with gas money and the pastor’s car is also temperamental—needing a glass of water every morning, afternoon, and evening like a baby.)

So I began to wonder if there was another simpler form of transport to take people who couldn’t walk. I reflected some on the story and wondered how far they carried their friend who was paralyzed, and if there was any other option than to go by foot—probably not.

As we were walking along that Friday, I told Joyce that I had been thinking about that story and she said, “Don’t worry, we will find a way---God will make a way.” Joyce agreed that it was really expensive for us to operate a vehicle. (Our small HIV support fund would be eaten up quickly). A man with a vegetable cart walked by and we began to joke that we could take her via vegetable cart to the big road then lift her unto the dala-dala and go directly to the hospital from there.

When we finally arrived at the house after a long walk, Joyce told the daughters to get ready to go, to dress Zana and get her breakfast--at least to drink some porridge (uji). They asked where the car was, and Joyce asked, “Where were you yesterday when we came with the car?” Joyce continued to say we would get her to the hospital even if we carried her all the way.

We went in and talked to Zana, and then brought her outside to sit on the mat, where she could get some fresh air. She kept trying to lay down and Joyce kept telling her to practice sitting up since it was bad for the heart and soul to lay down so much (its discouraging). Her CD4 count is still fairly high, 180—but low enough that she needs to start ARV’s.

Her daughter brought a bowl of water outside to wash her face and then smeared her dusty, tired face and head with oil. Every once in a while Zana will smile and mumble something that would make her chuckle.

We continued to sit and wait outside. Neighbors came by seeing what we were up too, a bit surprised not to see the vehicle. When Joyce asked one girl to help carry Zana to the big road, she dropped her jaw, and said it was way too far.

Two young men in bright yellow shirts, blue slacks and flip flops walked by, they had come to visit Zana. They sat down and joined us and Joyce continued talking and talking about this and that and a small crowd of children and others just sat and listened. Joyce was joking with the daughters of Zana that they had “picked the small bitter mangoes to early”—Monica who is 17—has a one year old baby—and Rebecca who is 15, is pregnant and is starting to show. Joyce seems to be able to make anyone laugh (it’s a gift she has)—Monica and Rebecca were laughing at her--even when she was teasing them.

Then one of the boys asked what we were planning to do and we told him we wanted to take Zana to the hospital today but we had no vehicle, and we said we may just have to carry her. He then told his little sister to go and fetch his bicycle. She took off running in her high heels for about five steps before kicking them off and trodding off barefoot on the dusty ground. She came back after 20 minutes or so with the bicycle.

When the bike came we all stood up. Then one of the boys named Yohana said we needed to pray. He prayed fow awhile asking God to give us a safe journey, praying that God would take care of Zana and bring her back to health, and that he would be near her. I’m still struggling to understand Swahili—often when people pray, I seem to fall in too the rhythm and sound of their words and utter my own prayers. I felt moved by Yohana’s prayer though--I could sense a deep power, earnestness and love in his heart.

When we were finished I was totally curious how we were going to transport Zana by bicycle—she obviously wasn’t going to ride it. I wasn’t sure what we were going to do exactly---I thought maybe the boys were going to put her on one of their laps and bike to the big road.

But when we picked up Zana, they directed us to put her on the bike so that she was strattling “the chicken seat” with her arms and legs facing the front she could grab the seat. Her legs were resting and curled on the front bar so they wouldn’t get caught in the chains. Then the other boy John, grabbed the steering handles and Joyce and Yohana put their arms on the back of Zana and they started to push the bicycle forward. They began to move quickly and I had to walk fast to even keep up with them. Zana at first was struggling to stay on, she seemed to want to roll off, but Joyce put her arm around her and they kept walking. Monica and some other girls followed on foot.

All three of those pushing the bicycle and holding Zana were wearing bright yellow shirts. They looked like the Brazilian soccer team (in fact-- Joyce was wearing her Brazil jersey that day). They continued pushing the bicycle, making sure Zana was comfortable and didn’t fall. They walked quickly and swiftly, as John’s long, sinuous arms were guiding the bicycle. It was a stunning sight. I took out my camera and began to take some pics.

Zana’s face grimaced and shone at the same time. It seemed like the light of the sun was painful at first but seemed to give her new life. It was good for her to be outside again, feel the wind on her face and the sunlight—it seemed to be rejuvenating her instead of laying on the remnants of a mattress in her tiny, warm, dark room in the corner--with no one making her sit up and taking her outside. But she seemed a bit fearful and tired. She shut her eyes most of the time and leaned into Joyce like she was in pain.

The more I glanced at them I felt this slow realization. When I looked at Zana again and again on the bicycle I began to see myself. I saw a picture of humanity in its brokenness and beauty. I saw my weaknesses and strengths.

And I saw all people.

I saw how we can all suffer from illnesses, rejection, loneliness, and neglect. I saw how we all make bad choices that dehumanize others and ourselves, often falling victim to social and personal problems.

I saw how lost we are.

We all need help emotionally, spiritually and physically. We all have needs that aren’t met which puts us all in a state of angst and alienation, no matter who is around us sometimes.

And I saw how we can still simultaneously feel the warmth of the sun even while we feel pain-- sometimes feeling the sting of discomfort at is exposure upon our nakedness.

As I looked at Zana and the others pushing her along and walking beside her I was struck in awe by the beauty of them all.

I gazed at those moving beside and with Zana. And a thought arouse that these are the beautiful feet of the One who came to be with us. This was God with Us—Emmanuel, surrounding us with his presence, picking us up and walking beside us. Maybe the thought came to mind because it was two days before Christmas, I’m not sure.

We walked past homes, and people turned to look at the sight of all of the people pushing Zana on the bicycle. Little kids stopped playing to watch. Right before we got to the big road after about 20 minutes or so, went up a short hill and then stopped to wait for a dala dala. We figured we could lift her into a dala dala and then get dropped off right at the door of the hospital if we asked.

A dala dala came and we got on, picking up Zana and putting her on one of the seats. We said thank you and shook hands with John and Yohana. I felt humbled and challenged by their actions and kindness that day.

We got to the door of the hospital and brought Zana up the steps and into the waiting room. We finally got her results back and were able to get medication for her. It’s a lot of medication to start out with, and it’s very strong. A person has to be able to eat a lot of food or they will feel very sick. It took a long time as I sat with Monica, Zana’s oldest as the nurse and doctor explained the need for a strict schedule to take her pills every morning and night, and a good nutrition program—if they can make enough money to buy the fruits and vegetables she needs. We are helping them with what we can. We also got a referral for Zana to start going to the other hospital to start physical therapy so she can do more exercises to gain her strength and balance back.

Zana got a second ride on a bicycle that day when Joyce took her by dala dala to the place where we got on the dala dala the first time, and another man offered to carry her home on his bicycle. I had to remain with Monica at the hospital to get all the medication sorted out.

I met Joyce later when at another drop off point after she got Zana back to her house and we headed back to the church.

The whole day I kept thinking about what happened in the morning. I was so humbled and challenged by those who put Zana on her bike that day, carrying her and walking beside her. I kept telling/teasing Joyce later, declaring "you are Jesus." and she would burst out laughing, so that her whole body sort of shook like she was about to start dancing some new steps from the latest choir practice. She slapped my hand and said, “Ah, Joanaa! Now you’ll have another story to preach about in church some day.”

The picture of Zana on the bicycle I think will stay with me for awhile. An image of God with us when we are broken, lonely, afraid, and sick. Directing us, holding us, and watching us from behind if we fall. When we are even too weak to pedal, even open our eyes, with our legs crossed across the bar---we are pushed, guided and held at the same time.

This is the message of Christ, the Gospel of peace. Christ came to a dark world. The Messiah came to be with us and to walk with us on foot, on the hillside, in the wilderness, in the garden, and on the road to the hospital on a bicycle.

Christ is the light in the darkness. Christ walks with us in this world full of pain, and suffering--love and beauty.

The people I saw that day were the Presence and Spirit of Christ—

Father, Son and Holy Spirit

Christ Before Us, Christ Beside Us, Christ Behind Us.

Light Before Us, Light Beside Us, Light Behind Us.

God With Us.

Solidarity.

Emmanuel.

Pray for Zana—she is very sick....we are going to visit her again tomorrow, (Saturday Dec 31) we have already seen her twice this week...

Pray for her family and daughters that they can take care of her well and that any reconciliation that needs to take place will happen…

Both Zana and her daughters entered prostitution to get money because they were poor—pray that they will have other options, and that we can help them not have to make that choice

Pray for Zana’s health—her body needs healing...pray that she can stay on the medicine and not throw up, she’s having serious difficulties and has been throwing up the medicine and food—we may need to get a drip for her tomorrow…

Some more reflections---

On one of those days as he was teaching, Pharisees and teachers of the law were sitting there who had come from every village of Galilee and Judea and from Jerusalem. And the power of the Lord was with him to heal. And behold some men were bringing on a bed a man who was paralyzed and they were seeking to bring him in and lay him before Jesus, but finding no way to bring him in because of the crowd, they went up on the roof and let him down with his bed through the tiles into the midst before Jesus. And when he saw their faith he said, “Man your sins are forgiven you.” And the scribes and Pharisees began to question him, saying, “Who is this who speaks blasphemies? Who can forgive sins but God alone?” When Jesus perceived their thoughts he answered them, “why do you question in your hearts? Which is easier to say, your sins are forgiven you or rise up and walk? But so that you may know that the Son of Man has authority on earth to forgive sins”--he said to the man who was paralyzed –“I say to you rise, pick up your bed and go home,” and immediately he got up before them picked up what he had been laying on and went home glorifying God. And amazement seized them all and they glorified god and were filled with awe saying, “We have seen extraordinary things today.”

Luke 5:17-2

I guess when I read this story now I can envision people here carrying the sick—esp those suffering from HIV/AIDS---I can imagine people bringing those who were very sick by bicycle to the feet of Jesus.

Maybe I almost forgot that cars are not the only option or mode of transport to carry the sick, wounded or paralyzed to the hospital. People can forget the faith, devotion to others, and creativity of those who can help make a way for healing for those who are suffering even if they have to carry them on their own backs. The compassion, courage and commitment of people should be more dependable than any form of modern day transport. But tragically enough—we sometimes fail to have a greater vision because we are blinded by the obstacles—and hesitate too soon.

The compassion, courage and commitment of others should inspire more resources given to those who are suffering, but not just in material resources—but in the resource of the person. That means living and being with people giving encouragement, friendship and love, whoever you are.

That is Solidarity. That is Emmanuel.

Are we too dependant on material resources than on the power of the human spirit to succeed even when things seem impossible or too difficult for us? Do we look first for how God has already equipped and is empowering his children to do his work, caring for others, before we think having certain equipment will solve all the answers, making our assumptions subject to a false dependency or superiority too soon?

I am not saying that having a car and getting resources to assist programs is bad. (God knows we need more resources for this program). We all need to do more—individually, corporately and internationally to help those living with HIV/AIDS—assistance for orphans, widows, access to good health care and medicine—in local, national and international initiatives and laws---education, nutritious food and water, protection of property rights, community work that is sensitized to gender issues, stigma reduction, tackling poverty--grass roots small enterprise initiatives to working globally for fair trade laws to increase economic development---all these aspects are interwoven. all these issues are about justice for fellow human beings.

But I also wanted to say that we need to continually ask ourselves if we are blind to the way that God might be suggesting/leaving room to move in his own way and provision---using his children to demonstrate justice, humility, love and mercy? That is why partnering and building relationships with people whatever service or assistance someone is rendering is so necessary.

We also have to ask ourselves if we are too blind to see that God is with us and with others before anything arrives.

The one who came to heal is with us. Carrying, leading, and guiding. Being present.

Christ arrived first. Christ is here.

Kherie Ya Kristmas!

2005-12-28T09:33:00.001-08:00

Janet decorating our place with some Christmas lights.

well mom, you laughed but it is true, I bought my first pair of high heels to match my tanzanian outfit (made to accentuate your matakos, if you dont know what that means, ask me later)... i got to wear it on christmas day here...

did I tell you I had christmas with the pope? thats my friend Joyce, I'll post something a little more clear when I get a chance...

pilauf and fanta...notice the way Peace drinks her fanta...just like that video when jake, carla and I were kids---whole mouth! kama terembeta!

So I would say Christmas celebrations here consist of many things...one new outfit, christmas pilauf (spicey rice) going to church, watching a childrens christmas pageant (in swahili) and children eating ice-cream in town...(if you can afford those things)...

From Braveheart to LadyHawk

2005-12-28T08:33:00.000-08:00

--twas the night before Christmas eve and all through the house not a creature was stirring except for me who cut off all my dread locks with my jack knife (thanks for the gift than!--that little gadget is handy)

it took three hours at least, I was trying to savage as much as possible...i haven't had really short hair since I was five or so...I just couldnt handle a week of pulling and brushing my hair out, no way. besides there wouldn't be anything left if I tried brushing it out... mee rasta dreads had turned into Braveheart--it was like 'dismantling a hairy octopus off my head' U2's new album being released next month =) nudge nudge wink wink--the dreads had grown together...it was scary, like it had really taken on a life of its own (like the food moving off the plate in 'better off dead') speaking of the 80's not that i was in them for very long (well actually 9 years out of 10 constitutes most of the 80's)--although growing up in kenya in the 90s was probably like the 80's since the western style was a bit...delayed---even the 70s were still strong-are still strong--even me i like the 60's) alright I dont know what i am talking about, but what I do know I will tell you, this is what I know, and you shall know once i tell you...at least U2 will never die, 70's, 80's 90's 203o's----they are timeless. What I was originally going to say about the 80's is that my haircut looks fairly 80's ish---like Lady Hawk--one of the best movies ever made..... "and her name is... Izabon" "Nevaa has returned" you know, "Big man, black horse"--Matthew Broderick is in that movie, which is almost as good as Ferris Bueler's day off--but not soo much. alright so my haircut has inspired much conversation on 80's movies--any questions, comments, flowers, chocolates...promises you dont intend to keep?

so its probably the worst haircut ever..no, it is the worst haircut ever--because i cut it myself and its in a range of 1-3 inches depending on each strands democratic choice of length--thats why it took so long--the electoral process kicks badly. what?! but noone seems to notice that it is a really bad haircut, in fact I dont even notice cause i cant see the back thankfuly...it looks like a lot of wigs the girls and women wear here actually. floppy and curly, and not real...except mine is real...

So I haven't suffered too much from Post Dread Syndrome--I am glad they are gone, although there is a twinge of sadness that it just didn't work out between us. But at least i can show some picutres to my kids one day and they will think its cool or not (and that is the reason to do everything isn't it--so you can show pics to your kids?)

and this pic isnt actualy too bad--notice they are partly in the darkness...hmmm, must beware of the dark side, hmmm...

sawa sawa

2005-12-24T09:28:00.000-08:00

cooking with parents of Compassion kids on saturdays has been fun this month...I just decided to help out a bit and hang out in the kitchen. lots of laughing, chatting, a bit of dancing and the main objective of the game... cooking the Big Ugali! aiyai yai. you need to eat a lot of ugali first to cook that stuff seriously. it took six or so people all taking turns...

Voting day in Tanzania (DEC 14)...Kikwete from CCM swept the polls with more than 80 percent of the votes! Here is Peace, the youngest daughter of amos muagachi and esther standing with her mom waiting in line to vote. everyone asked me why i wasn't voting and I said, well, um. i'm not Tanzanian. yeah its just hard to believe i am a foreigner. and maybe i am still bitter that my vote for Kerry last year didn't work.

Compassion in MIKUME

2005-12-23T08:43:00.000-08:00

I went with 50 kids from the Compassion Project here at our church to Mikume to look at the wild game...pretty cool. The coolest part was the excitement of the kids who had never had an opportunity to see the animals here. They were dancing and singing on the bus for about two hours after we left Dodoma. Pretty hilarious. And then I had to walk up and down the aisles to give bags to those who felt sick and were throwing up (kutapika sana)...but the love of animals and adventure prevailed.

I was more interested in watching their joy and fascination, then looking at the elephants, lions and hippos that run rampant here...it was a good time...we camped out for a night, cooked lots of food, went for a few drives, watched baboons snatch food, and tembos coming out at night to eat our trash (dont worry we were inside)...

My mind was really occupied by a lot of stuff during the trip (although i enjoyed being with everyone) there was just a lot of stuff churning deep down, and i was thinking about the CPT'ers in Iraq a lot...those who were kidnapped...and I kept praying for them.

LAHASH

2005-12-23T07:26:00.000-08:00

Laura pouring oil to give to those needing food who are living with HIV...

Nick Mixaa and Dan

Disa, Laura and Mike

Strike a pose

dan and me (does that sound like the title of a movie or something?)

dodoma town with coming rain...

Here are some pictures from the visit from the Lahash group--Dan, Disa, Mike and Laura--a group of people who travelled around East Africa the last two months--starting in Uganda, Sudan, Kenya, Tanzania (Dodoma!) and Rwanda--visiting projects (check out their blog www.lahash.blogspot.com which has been fascinating, challenging and inspiring to read! (www.lahash.net) The community here and myself were so blessed by their presence the week they were here--

They visited the families and widows of those we are serving who are living with HIV, helping to prepare food to bring (ugali, rice, beans, sugar and oil) Theres a picture of Laura pouring some oil into the jugs for distribution. They were an encouraging, funny, unique bunch. They were really liked by the community here and people still ask me about them.

Nick from Kenya who is doing assistance for PLHA in Eldoret Kenya joined the group and he was so helpful in giving some advice from his vast experience and compassionate heart. We hope to invite him and others from his project for our Home Based Care seminar for those with HIV/AIDS in March. Also Dan Holcomb decided he wants to help us to get some sponsors for orphans (caused by AIDS) in our community here...if any one is interested in sponsoring let me know (it will be 7 $ per month--and we will match that same amount with sources here so it will be a joint-sponsorship). This is an exciting opportunity...this last week I visited a home where the care-giver was taking care of 10 children--4 were orphans from her sister--who died and whose husband is critically ill with AIDS now---and also caring for her 6 children...unbelievable...I have some pictures from that day I'll post soon...much more to come

mcc meetings in arusha

2005-12-18T07:56:00.000-08:00

we went for a beatiful hike around Mt Meru in Arusha the first day of our meetings...it was beautiful and refreshing. we went to see some water falls...so much greener and cooler than dodoma! heres a pic of barb and her boy, Levi...shes one of the country reps for TZ along with Rodney, her husband.

safari kwa semina ya Ukimwi

2005-12-18T07:25:00.000-08:00

went to Ifakara with Mama Ndeze and Justin from the Christian Council of Tanzania--they host seminars around the country about HIV/AIDS and the many issues and challenges it has caused for the people of tanzania. the seminar was all in swahili--so i caught 30 percent of it--maybe... we were with about 20 lutheran pastors from the region...

i really enjoyed all their company, and talked to them for hours on the rides to and fro, listening to their knowledge, wisdom and experience..,they were quite a funny bunch together.

went to another seminar in dar es salam on the church's response to HIV/AIDS for KMT--the Mennonite Church of Tanzania. Esther is pictured above, the coordinator of our program in dodoma. shes an amazing woman, very strong, straightforward, compassionate, is amazing with children, and full of wisdom. and I think she has one of the most beautiful faces i have ever seen. kweli.

Maisha continued

2005-12-18T06:49:00.000-08:00

I went to a funeral for one of the elders in the church here (November 12). He lost his 26 year old daughter. It was never clarified what the cause of death was. But someone told me it was caused by HIV. I went with Rebecca and some other women and we wrapped ourselves up in some kangas. We entered the house of mourning where women were gathered and wailing, and Mzee Masinga was waiving a fan over the face of his daughter as people walked by. His face was so solemn. When I went to greet him he smiled and told me to visit again. But there was pain there. Pain that can’t even be expressed in a cry of emotion. Its just there like an invisible weight. We got on a bus and went to the burial. People were singing songs on the way. Chants and songs expressing passing on to new life. There were so many people gathered around....it was a dusty and hot day.

That same day I went back to the church and got on my bike (Pink Beauty--a truly mean pink mountain bike) to get to Mchungaji’s house where we were having a goat feast to celebrate the return of Esther from her studies in Zambia. She will be the coordinator of the HIV/AIDS program and I will be under her, although it will be a while before she can resign and start working here full time. It was a great feast and celebration. But it was strange to go from a funeral to a celebration in the same day. Mannesseh the other pastor was absolutely insane that night-hilarious—reminded me of my Dad the way he was singing and shouting I was laughing so hard. I love the people here. There was lots of singing, dancing, eating, speeches, and laughing...we were also welcoming two newlywed couples who just returned to the church... Heres a picture of Mannesseh before slaughtering a goat--but I took this picture during the second goat feast we had for the LAHASH visitors (Dan Holcomb's group--ngo) www.lahash.com on December 3...

maisha ya tanzania

2005-12-18T05:57:00.000-08:00

my lovely room--notice the batman curtain in the back...that was a winner catch at the market--almost as sweet as your new record for the big buck you got this year dad. the only thing i have been able to hunt this year is cloth...dont plan to mess with any mbogos any time soon... or find any of their remnants to make some earth-lovin paper--(carla jean)--do you remember, and now for a dad quote: "well it smells like ... ? looks like ... ? and tastes like...?

our living room where one can always find a thermos full of tea.

my roomates/housemates, Vero and Jane...and some shots of Jo and Meg who decided to try and save the whales through modelling.

three poems on love and stigma

2005-12-16T09:04:00.000-08:00

December 11, 2005
She didn’t really know you
Under the layers of built up and crumbled walls
That fell down at her feet
She bent down to try and rummage something
Off the ground

That day she thought your hair and eyes were brown
But when the sun began to set
Mysterious strands of golden red appeared
And the ring of revolving light in the hazy green
Enfolded your sorrow with hope and humor

As she gazed at your lips upon
A child’s head
she too could smell the scent
and feel the smoothness
so alive, so engaged
as you continued to drift
distant in your own world
of beautiful reality

Your dark features
Escaped the shadows
As you laughed and spoke
Words of courage and warmth
Inspiring her little by little

Until the clouds came again

Fear to walk her outside
Fear to sit with her and wait
Fear to take her hand
Unsteady painful glances
From impassable depths below
She was powerless
To understand your brokenness
And her own.

And she wondered again
Who you really were

Your constant withdrawal
After the third day
Made her wonder
If you were waiting for the resurrection
from loves vulnerable tomb
But no resurrection came

Thoughts befuddled her
Leaving her paralyzed
from your quiet paralysis
Which you hid behind---
That and all your words
poured out for the world to see
Except for her
Expressing all the love you had for the world
Except for her
And she wondered
if she could ever really know you

you thought she was a puzzle you could pick apart
but you failed to grasp her entirely
and now she lay again in piles waiting to be formed
by another maker’s soul

You crossed the tracks
Without stopping to watch her play
Causing the ring inside her eyes to die

Your red strands are turning dark brown again
and that golden glow among the green is beginning to fade
and you will never know her love
and how much you could have loved her

December 15, 2005
I didn’t want to go to sleep
My body screamed to stay awake
Despite the heavy weight I was carrying
Hoping that another few hours
Would bring some peace and quiet
Hear you whisper something to me
That could put my nerves at ease
Or wrap an arm around me
So that I could lean into your embrace
But the thoughts just got heavier
With no relief---and I awoke
Early enough to hear the shuffling of your feet
When you cleaned your face
Cleared your throat
And walked out the door
Without even looking

November 31, 2005
Turn around
And if you look long enough
You will see these tears
Hit the dusty ground
Falling from this face
Nowhere left to cling to
Turn around and you will see
A head wrapped in cloth
Bowed down in prayer and sorrow
Waiting for you to look or notice
Turn around and you will see
Feet that are ready
To climb mountains with you
Turn around and you will see
A spirit carrying the burden of many
Turn around and face your fear
Love is waiting.

2005-12-13T07:45:00.000-08:00

Our spiritual struggle begins right now with whatever God has given us (and all the more if we ourselves have gotten into a difficult situation!) About your trials: most of them are natural parts of life, and God allows several of them to pile up because you are capable of bearing them… You must learn to suffer and bear – but do not view this as something "endless and dreary," here you are wrong: God sends many consolations, and you will know them again. You must learn to find joy in the midst of increasing doses of sorrow; thus you can save your soul and help others. ~Fr. Seraphim Rose

thanks Arielle, I read this off of your site. something i needed to hear today...I took someone to the hospital who was super sick and needed to get a CD4 count check (shes HIV positive) and she couldn't even walk...it was hard and difficult for her to make it through the tests we took her to today. ah, I was cringing looking at her pained face when they were drawing her blood...she was talking slowly and was so tired...but later she expressed her happiness, i got a coke for her and she was so excited and she needed assistance drinking it slowly so that she took tiny sips, she may have drunk a third till we got her home...anyway despite her pain and tiredness she was doing alright and started to joking a bit...and her smile was gorgeous. she 31 years old but she looks like she may be 50. i hope and pray she can improve now. another woman who came with us was doing super well, someone didn't believe she was even sick...so there are always hard hard things every day, but usually something good, encouraging immerges somehow. praise God.

2005-11-22T08:37:00.000-08:00

"Hunger and malnutrition kill nearly 6 million children a year, and more people are malnourished in sub-Saharan Africa this decade than in the 1990s, according to a U.N. report released Tuesday. Many of the children die from diseases that are treatable, including diarrhea, pneumonia, malaria and measles, said the report by the Rome-based U.N. Food and Agriculture Organization."

2005-11-13T08:29:00.000-08:00

silent love is killing me
usemie dainya moyo yangu.

Dar es Salam

2005-11-08T07:38:00.000-08:00

spent a week in dar, trying to find a microscope so that we can hopefully open a testing counselling center...and got to hang out with Meg Meiners, old buddy of mine. The micros were out of stock at the moment.

Had a good time with Meg, at the beach, went to a friend's wedding (will post some pics eventually)! but I missed Dodoma, its good to be back. Last night I stayed in Morogoro (Mororgoro Crater) with my "family".

“Janet” receives her news

2005-11-08T07:33:00.000-08:00

Friday, Oct 21

So today when I arrived at the church Janet was there to talk to me. She had received her manila envelope with her test results not even opened. She handed it to me to open. She knew the results—they had talked to her and given her some counseling. She was HIV positive. She was surprisingly calm when we talked this morning. She had just really wanted to know the answer so that she could move on, and figure out the best way to live with the disease.

While we were talking I felt something in my spirit. I was listening to Janet explain why she was glad that she found out the news. She was saying that it was like the difference in hearing a car accident or seeing the accident itself. Knowing it was for real was better because she could know the truth and move forward….

I was thinking that true life, true redemption is facing our struggles and choosing to live with them and having hope, not letting the struggle overcome us….whatever we are stung with, born with, infected with…true life is not trying to avoid all pain, or having nothing hurtful happen to us….true life is dealing with it, and conquering its power over us, living with it, but not allowing it to define or dictate how we act and live, but allowing our true selves and the power of God to ring through our strengths and weaknesses….in some sense that is exactly the work of the atonement…solidarity with suffering to transform pain into joy, shame and guilt into acceptance and love…it is the conquering, transforming nature of the cross and rolled away tomb stone….

“Janet” was told that she would eventually need to go to Tumaini Clinic to get a CD4 test and ARV’s (she is 31 years old with a 7 year old daughter, Miriam). But for now, to concentrate on eating a good diet (beans, ugali, mchini chineese-spinach, meat once or twice a week) as long as possible before she gets too sick and needs meds is the best route. The only thing is that she is unsure she can get enough of the essential foods for her health…so we are going to try to assist her in creating a business so that she can make enough money to buy the right kinds of food. Manesseh gave her some ideas, and told her that we could help her a little, but she would have to take the responsibility to start thinking of what she could do…so that she can help herself with some direction from the church…

The other precaution she has to take is to not work hard during the day because it may be difficult for her health….

Janet was kicked out of her place a week ago…and so she can’t grow any vegetables because she no longer has a permanent place to stay so hopefully we can figure out how to get her access to foods she needs, or help her start a project, business so she can sustain herself...Anyway her spirit seemed at peace with the news, but still scared and confused; when Manesseh prayed she started to cry, and was trying to hide the tears after he was finished. We told her not to be afraid. God will help her, and we will be here to support her. pray for her...

Childrens meeting

2005-11-08T07:31:00.000-08:00

Thursday, October 20
I attented the childrens ministry church meeting today….siku yote…nimechoka sana. The best part about the meeting is that there were 4 representatives for the watoto (chidren) who participated and gave their feedback, and what they had to share and advise was very good…. i was so impressed with them. They were articulate and thoughtful, and the adults showed great respect and love for the children to share their perspective—it was valued and important. I thought it was really cool, I don’t think I have been in a meeting where children are given as much say as adults…We went over every detail they will spend on the Compassion Project taking care of 237 kids…every detail from what type of soap to type of bic pen.

My friend Joyce came over tonight again. Joyce works at a youth community center that is trying to increase awareness about HIV. She just received some bad news that yesterday one of her friends died from AIDS. Her friend was only 31 years old, and had an 8 year old daughter. When she discovered she was sick a year ago, her family refused to take care of her or let her live with them because they thought she would infect them and they condemned her, calling her a prostitute. She went to the hospital in Dodoma to get medicine but they didn’t give her any, saying that she was in too bad a state to receive medication, so she went back to her home in Ipagala to die. Joyce talked about how weak, and without hope she had been….and said her hair was falling out so that she was almost totally bald. We went to see if we could find her sister who lives in makole, the area I am living in, but she was gone…probably to be with family in mourning….she died yesterday. Her name was Fatima….she died alone because her family was too scared, ashamed, and ignorant to live with or take care of her.

SUNMON

2005-11-08T07:20:00.000-08:00

Monday, October 17

Talked to Baba about his experience in the Mennonite church—fascinating stuff--about these charasmatic revivals that happened...i wrote about it in my journal, maybe illl post it later...

Went to duka to buy a light bulb, and then met a man from Somalia who introduced me to his daughter Sarah, who live just across the street from my Rwandan-Tanzanian friend—such a beautiful 18 year old girl....i fell in love with them....

Her grandfather was a Somali british soldier during world war 2, then immigrated here....they were fasting, enjoying rammadan, one woman was watching television in their house from Saudi Arabia, she only speaks Arabic. Her cousin staying with them, named Rahema...lived in Nairobi for many years—knows eastleigh, she lived in Nairobi West...

I don’t know but something happened, I felt totally revived....it made me so happy to visit with them....

Sunday, October 16

I preached in the service today. yep.

Janet came today because she was super sick, she came early because other wise the sun would be too hot to walk under. We took her to the hospital after church, Mirembe Hospital. She was abandoned by her mother and her mother took her four year old daughter this week--this is one week after getting her results back that she was positive. Please pray for this woman. Please pray that we can be able to visit and encourage her and that she won't give in to the despair.

Monday, October 17

2005-11-08T07:17:00.000-08:00

Monday
A woman came in today who found out she was HIV positive last week and her friends brought her to the church because they know about our program. One of her friends brought us to another friend a few weeks ago and now we are assisting her. She was very upset. At first telling us about her story. I love Mrs K. She has such a gentle and firm counseling style. She started to cry when she told us about finding out the news, and then more tears came as she was talking about her family. She started to get sick last April, and got medication for some symptoms but never really recovered. She has a 4 year old little girl. Her mother came to live with her when she found out she was sick. Her mom has told her she needs to accept her situation and figure out what to do (this is a good word). She was 25 years old. She had not finished secondary school because it for a variety of reasons was not a good situation for her, so she left her village and came to Dodoma maybe 5-6 years ago. She started to work in a bar, met a man, had a child, the man left her, she continued to work in the bar to support herself, and then got really sick, and as stated before only last week found out she was positive. We tried to encourage her to leave the bar business, and she nodded in agreement, but if she can’t find other work I don’t know what she will decide. She was so thin, she was so young, her smooth light brown skin and her short, tinted hair was wrapped with a bright blue cloth. The curtain in the room kept blowing against the back of her head, like it was trying to grab her and hide her sad face.

So we advised her to go for a full examination this week and then to see what we can do to assist her…we can definitely assist with food, although she said she usually has enough…she had a bit of a tough exterior but that melted when she started to cry….but by the end, she was smiling and chuckling at some comments Mrs K was making…We told her, don’t be afraid! Don’t be afraid! We will help with what we can, we want to support her, and she is welcome here if she needs anything. Mrs K kept telling her, don’t cry, don’t cry…God will help you, he is helping you now….

I took her to the clothes room, store where some clothes from Canada had been donated. I asked her is she was afraid of rats since I just found out they are now eating the clothes in the room, or attempting to…I gotta get some shelves or something and get rid of these stinkin boxes…Anyway I think she was encouraged to get some clothes and shoes for her body and her child…she seemed happy when she left..

Premature

2005-11-08T06:51:00.000-08:00

You were early to begin with,
premature.
first cry from your tiny lungs
echoed before the tears of the dawn

into the world with mama’s fingers
clenching the earth
water breaking before you were due
fingernails digging into the dirt of pain
air of sweat were yours from the beginning

In the shadows of the moonlight
Mama’s arms held you
Warmed by her fire
Lost in the glow
Sparks hissing from the oil
Smoldering your bright eyed face
She protected you

Until she disappeared.

A few years after you learned to walk
You were kneeling down,
A few years after playing mama with other playmates
You became “mama” your self
Picking up the younger ones

Premature mother
Wrapping their chubby faces against your back
Gathering wood for fire,
water for boiling,
finding something to eat.
little brother and little sister curled beside you every night
you could hear there whimpers in sleepy haze,
“Mama Dogo, where did Baba go?”
“Mama Dogo, where did Mama go?”

Until they disappeared.

A few years later your groans
overcame you
You missed mama’s arms,
Lingering memories of her touch.
You gave yourself up one night to a man
to feed your starving ones
trying to find some kind of love
some support
just some food
a little comfort dulled the numbness
and pangs of hunger

Until he disappeared.

You gave birth to your baby girl
beloved under your wing,
into your impoverished nest
more little knocks on your door
another empty stomach crying to be fed
little moans from her sweaty forehead
sleepy eyelids pressed against your breast

Until she disappeared.

It was yours from the beginning
Weaving your heart against a landscape of pain
No more fighting,
No more resisting
Swallow it up
Any way you could

If only you could disappear.

Drifting in dreams,
Lying your thin body down
motionless on the cold unfeeling ground
too in pain to move
too alone to cry
nobody came

until mamas feet appeared by your outstretched arm
touch my face and feel the flame
My embrace is still warm
I’ll wipe away every tear
My love is still here in the shadows
Come in out of the cold and sit with me in the kitchen.

And then You disappeared.

written October 17

the fam

2005-10-10T23:16:00.000-07:00

carla and benjamin...
mom and benjamin...
and 2 week old jillian....

Oil in Jugs

2005-10-08T12:55:00.000-07:00

NRSV: 2 Kings 4, vs 1-7
Now the wife of a member of the company of prophets cried to Elisha, “Your servant my husband is dead; and you know that your servant feared the Lord, but a creditor has come to take my two children as slaves.” Elisha said to her, “What shall I do for you? Tell me, what do you have in the house?” She answered, “Your servant has nothing in the house, except a jar of oil.” He said, “Go outside borrow vessels from all your neighbors, empty vessels and not just a few. The go in, and shut the door behind you and your children, and start pouring into all these vessels; when each is full, set it aside.” So she left him and shut the door behind her and her children; they kept bringing vessels to her, and she kept pouring. When the vessels were full, she said to her son, “Bring me another vessel.” But he said to her, “There are no more.” Then the oil stopped flowing. She came and told the man of God, and he said, “Go sell the oil and pay your debts, and you and your children can live on the rest.”

Current Socially Applied Version (CSAV)—2 Kings 4, vs 1-7
Now a woman who had just become a widow, losing her husband to AIDS, came to a pastor in a church and said, “Pastor, my husband is now dead. You know that my husband loved God and people with all his heart. You also know that I am a servant of God. You also know that I, too, have HIV. Now that my husband is dead many of the relatives and neighbors have come to my house and have stripped us of our possessions and are putting pressure on my family to move away so they can take the house we are staying in. Some have spoken their interest in taking my two children to become their hired workers or slaves. Some have even demanded that I should give them my young daughter in marriage. I am even afraid that my daughter will be raped or become a prostitute people say it is the only means to make a little money without a good education and no jobs in sight. Right now we are so poor we can’t even buy food. Every day and night I worry about the safety of my children. My landlord is also threatening to evict me because I have not been able to pay rent since my husband’s death. What shall I do?” The pastor said to her “What can I do for you? Tell me what do you have in your house?” She answered, “Your servant has nothing in the house, and no food, except a small jug of cooking oil. But I don’t even have a few pieces of charcoal to cook with.” He said, “Go outside and borrow empty containers from all your neighbors, and not just a few. Then go in, and shut the curtain behind you and your children, and start pouring into all the containers; when each is full, set it aside.” So she left him and gathered all kinds of containers—discarded coke bottles, old cans of tea or coffee, broken plastic jugs and anything else she could find. She then shut the shabby curtain in her two roomed house made of sticks and dry cracked mud. Her children would pass her containers under the curtain and she began to pour. When the containers were full she said to her son, “Bring me another container.” And he said, “There are no more.” Then the cooking oil stopped flowing. She then came and told the pastor and he said, “Go sell the oil and pay your debts, and you and your children can live off the rest.

Last week when we were pouring cooking oil into plastic jugs at the Kikuyu Dispensary to be distributed I remembered this story (actually have a distinct memory of my mom telling this story when she was teaching or preaching at a camp when I was 8 or 9). And then after hearing about the situations and some stories from some women we visited this week, I created a similar story and version. Here are some thoughts on it that I am chewing on, would welcome any feedback; I think there are some important elements: God’s provision, idea of self-sustaining projects, trusting person in action, and an assisting vehicle/person of direction, guidance, help.

This is the message of hope we can know and experience:
1) The provision and power of God happens in every day life and needs. Miracles of healing and provision do occur.
2) The prophet encourages God intervening-self-sustaining income generation projects so that the needs of her family can be met: all their debts are paid, and they can make enough profit so that they can live off the business.
3) The oil stops flowing after all the needs and a bit more were met. God meets the need and filled to the degree of trust or faith (the amount of containers she collected). Although God remains faithful even when we are faithless for he can't disown himself. 4) The prophet of God provides assistance, direction, and guidance: But the person in need takes action, trusting the instruction, showing faith, and God intervenes and provides.
5) Although the woman has very little, she has something which she can offer (some capital—a little oil) which becomes abundance and enables self-sufficiency. It doesn’t matter what you have, God can use it.
6) Even in exile of sin, injustice and economic bondage—God provides, openening up new doors or sometimes in ways we dont expect. In times of drought, God can bring sustenance. In times of disease and suffering, God brings healing.

Saturday, October 8, 2005
A woman came to our house today who knows my housemate Jane. She was asking for help because she has no money and is finding little work. Her name was Rose Joan, and I told her those were important family names in my family…Joan is my grandma, and Rose was my great-grandma, and I was named after great grandma Rose, and great-grandpa John: therefore Johanna Rose (and my mom and dad just liked those names)…

Joan lost her husband to HIV last year and has three children. She is not positive because they had separated before he became infected. Now they are living with her parents because she needs help. They have little food, but her parents are helping to send the kids so school (secondary). So she was asking if there was any way we could help her. I am going to talk to the pastor today. We might be able to give her some food each month from the church. She is strong and healthy, and makes most money washing clothes if she finds people to wash for. So since we were about to wash our clothes this morning we had tea with her and then gave her some money to wash our clothes. She was overjoyed. At first she wouldn’t take any tea knowing that her children didn’t have any food, even yesterday, but when we told her we would pay her to wash today she was happy to take tea because she could go and buy food today. I hope we can help her find more means of employment.

Thursday, October 6, 2005
“Ruth” came in today, after receiving the news this morning, she was devastated. She had been crying a lot Mrs. K told me when she heard the news from her at the hospital. She came to the church so that she could be counseled some more. She had said that her husband had mistreated her. Her husband passed away last year I believe, and she said people had come and taken things from her house after he died so they were left with nothing.

I think although she may have suspected she was positive, it came as a huge shock. The reality of the impact on ones state is hard to grasp. So we are assisting her with some testing, and medication fund, and a bit of rent money. But she needs prayer. She does not want to tell her mother because she is afraid it would add to her own anxiety, because her mother would be so worried and devastated if she found out. They are so poor right now and struggling to find work even just to pay rent.

Visit to Regisla’s project…
I finally went to visit Regisla’s project today. She is one of my Swahili teachers. She assists 6 widows and 6 orphans from AIDS. She trains them in tailoring so that they will be able to sell clothes and make money. She as well had some sad stories about the women. The 6 orphans are the heads of their household now, and are struggling to buy food. Some have even prostituted themselves to get money to feed their siblings, or some were raped and given nothing. It’s just horrible. But now many of them have a place they can come and learn some skills and also be with people who love them, and hear the word of God.

Provided Regisla’s project gets more funding, they hope to increase their tailoring training and generate enough to live on. Regisla is amazing. She is a devoted Roman Catholic committed to helping orphans and widows. She has been trying to build this building in her backyard to house some of the orphans and create a training center so that others will come and pay for training (increasing her funds) and then she will train the other orphans and widows for free. She is inspiring, and we hope that we can figure out a way that the church ministry can support her ministry in the future…

Kikuyu Dispensary

2005-10-08T12:28:00.000-07:00

Saturday October 1, 2005
Group meeting at the Kikuyu Dispensary...
Mrs K and I went on Friday to pick up someone who would hopefully take us to visit 10 families/people living with HIV. We had prepared all that we could from our food supply—about 6 bags of rice, beans, ugali and cooking oil. I finally found some 1 L containers at the market that morning. When we arrived at the dispensary though we were told that most of the people with HIV were coming to meet the following morning and to pick up some food donated by the government (which comes every 3-6 months); when we arrived we went to the office which had the food stored there. There was only enough for 10 people (of two items-ugali and sugar). So we decided to go to the market and use some of our funds to supply what would be needed to give the 25 people with HIV some more adequate food for the following day. This turned out to be the group Manese had met with a week back and discussed how we could work together, help each other. This was the group whose chairperson committed suicide this summer out of despair—(I wrote about this in a previous blog).

In the car Mrs. K and another teacher talked about the situation of one of their friends. There is a girl who is being taken care of by her aunt because her parents died (from HIV-AIDS) and she is now in Standard 7 (age 13)—the last year of primary school before Secondary school (Form 1-6). She is very bright and her teachers want her to pursue secondary school. The problem is, she has HIV and they don’t want to tell her because they are afraid of her reaction and that she might commit suicide----but they are afraid if they don’t tell her and she goes to secondary school, there is a chance she could spread the virus especially if she doesn’t even know she is a carrier. So they are in a very difficult position. What if I was 13 years old and one day my aunt told me that I had HIV? What would I do? They asked me my advice and I told them they should inform the girl. One woman thought no way, it’s too difficult.

Somehow though, they will need to tell her…from a loving, trusting person, who can convey the support and care that they will continue to give her, and counseling to help her know how to take care of herself. The time has to come eventually, and I think it is always going to be difficult to tell the girl. I can’t imagine what I would be thinking if that’s what I was told tomorrow…some of these situations are way too difficult.

Today, Saturday, we went to Kikuyu area to meet with some people in the community who are living with HIV/AIDS or are taking care of orphans. They are a group that came into existence two years ago. Their aim is to help and support each other. All members except for a few are HIV positive. Their total number is about 25. They decided to meet together to try and figure out how they may assist each other and solve some of their problems. Every month they contribute 400 shillings for a fund to pay for the things that they need. (that’s 40 cents each---that’s under 5000 shillings-5 bucks). They are trying to contact donors but haven’t really been connected yet. They receive some money from the government (and some food). The group is trying to encourage those they know to be tested for HIV so that they can be treated if necessary.

One of the main problems that they talked about was the inability to get food. For many people this was an even greater struggle as they were taking care of AIDS orphans (an old grandmother who came is taking care of 6 children). If people can’t get food and eat, then they can’t pay school fees for their children or orphans, and the children remain at home. Although primary school is free---there are always things that need payment—clothes-uniform, shoes, exercise books, other school fees—etc.

They stated that when they receive food, they are able to send their kids to school—they do not have to worry as much about making ends meet. It’s very important that when one is infected with HIV they need a good diet to help them fight off health problems. When they have little food and their children can’t go to school, they said some people express how they would rather die than go through the despair and humiliation of their situation---they themselves and their families can suffer from severe psychological problems because of the weight of their difficulties…

So now this group is looking for ways to be trained in becoming more self-sufficient, hoping to start some projects (chickens and cows) so that they can increase their funds, and have a more balanced diet, and their children can go to school. Now they are looking for donors to help them start these projects….

Another important comment they made was that they also needed assistance and help in having enough money for medical testing and checkups, including CD4 tests.

This community group in Kikuyu also talked about the stigma that many of them face. It was harder to find work for example if it was discovered that one had HIV. It’s very very difficult to be open at times because of the reactions from others that those suffering will face. That’s why people are silent, that’s why people deny it, that’s why people don’t always want to be tested: ignorance seems better; and if the church, or anyone else condemns you then you are bound to feel even more rejected and isolated. There were a few people who seemed uncomfortable with us newcomers being there. (Both pastors accompanied us, as well as one of our counselors, and a friend of Mrs. K). They are afraid it will attract unwanted stigma or attention to them.

We told them that we can’t solve all the problems, but we can try to support and partner with them in the future to help with some of their needs---particularly in providing food relief, and hopefully some educational assistance (creating some kind of orphan fund). I am really interested in their ideas for community projects. It’s a great idea and I would like to see how it could work and be used elsewhere. People are amazing here in their amount of resilience to find ways to solve their problems and help each other. We told them that although we cant do everything, we wanted to give the food to encourage them and make sure they know that there are people out there who want to support them, pray for them, and give what we can. Many of them expressed deep thanks, and that they were very very happy we came to give and to state our support. One woman stated that she was a widow, and HIV positive. She had come to know her situation after her husband died in 2003, 4 years after he had come to know he was positive. But she said she needed encouragement and was happy to see us to know people care. She said, “I have hope. I have hope to face the reality, and hope in God to go far.”

Housemates…
I found out today that the parents of one of the beautiful girls who stays with us died from AIDS. She is just two years younger than me, 21 years of age. She is a gorgeous and smart girl (she teaches nursery school at the church) and came to stay here with her aunt’s family after her parents died... She has never talked about it yet, I found out she was an orphan (as of a year and a half ago) in some other conversations with people. Story of the sheets.

I heard a story the other day from Zambia, about a man with HIV who received a bag of items to help him take care of himself: soap, vitamins, food, a pair of sheets…he decided to save the sheets so that he could be buried in clean sheets when he died. People are buried, wrapped in sheets when they die, so sheets are a valuable item. Some people are even dug up out of the ground in order to steal sheets because some people cannot afford to buy them. So instead of using the sheets, he decided to save them until he died.

At home...
A friend Joyce came over last night….She is wild and crazy... She works at a youth project here for HIV AIDS awareness. She told me that really, I need to marry a Tanzanian man because she thought I fit in here and in her own words, I’ve got the “woman mantles”—that means the full Bantu butt, thighs, legs, a “neck like a giraffe?”, dancing rhythm, and I move/walk like a chameleon…she said some other stuff I can’t remember but the butt comment topped the list in my memory flow chart…should I be flattered?

Rats...
We have had quite the adventure of killing the rats that live in our house the last couple days. After too much banging and crashing of pots in the kitchen like a discotheque we decided that we “got to do something about that duck.” So we added some poison to some nicely laid out rice on the floor which has caused many rats to be found dead on the floor every morning. Oh what a beautiful morning. Now we can smell a dead one but can’t find it darnit.

(for those who have ears to hear, from Cairo days remember ‘dis:
“dance to the beat of the rhythm of the Nile, Egyptians dance to the rhythm of the Nile, dance to the dance to the dance to the beat, mystical, magical….. let’s dance....)

Art Website

2005-10-08T03:35:00.000-07:00

There is an update on the trip to Uganda (Amazing Grace Orphanage) and some poems I wrote on the trip. "Madame, Looking is free..."

www.publicpixel.com/jo

Ipagala

2005-10-08T02:52:00.000-07:00

Wednesday, October 5, 2005
John Mwita, Mrs K and I went to Ipagala today to visit 6 families and bring some food. We first went to visit Amina to see how she was doing. She had a bad reaction (dizziness) to her first injection last week, but yesterday because she had eaten something beforehand, it was not as bad. But her first dizzy reaction caused her to fall down and cut herself, so she showed us the sores on her legs. She mentioned that she was not having a good appetite so asked if we had multi-vitamins (MV’s would be good to give if we can figure out a good way to access them. Then we visited a woman named Jeni who may have a type of epilepsy. She needs to be checked out more in hospital.

Then we went to see another woman (I will name her Ruth) who came in this week because she wanted some help in going to the hospital. She was diagnosed with luke-worm and received some medicine for that. But her results came in yesterday where she was seen by Mrs. K and she is HIV positive. We didn’t tell her today when we visited because her mother was present in her house during the visit---and according to Ruth, her mothers knowledge of her state would increase the difficulties. Her mother has lost three other children to HIV. Three siblings of “Ruth” have died from HIV/AIDS. And Ruth has two children she is taking care of: Standard 3 and 5. I don’t know what they were surviving on because it seemed like they had no or very little food. A friend was visiting when we popped in and when she saw that we brought food, she asked if we could help her. She is taking care of two orphans. Unfortunately we have limited resources now, so couldn’t give her anything, but perhaps in the future it would be possible to help. “Ruth” and her mother have such beautiful, gentle faces. I don’t know how she will take the news, I don’t know if she has suspected or not…

We were wondering what could happen if Ruth got really sick, who would take care of her mother, children? Now they just barely pay their rent of 5000 shillings/month—5 bucks. She hasn’t even been able to pay her last months rent. She collects and sells firewood. That is the only way she makes her living. Ruth moved to Dodoma from the village after her husband died. And she plans to stay here till her daughters finish school because transfer fees can be expensive. When Ruth became sick, her mother came to take care of her and is now staying with her.

Another woman named Esther we visited did not seem to really want to go to the hospital to get a checkup, even though she explained that she had diarrhea for two months. She has 4 daughters who have finished standard 7. She also said she didn’t have the money for tests and an examination and that’s why she hasn’t gone in. Mrs. K explained to her that one can write a letter to the ten house cell leader (local politician) who should provide a letter for exemption if they are too poor to pay for expenses like medical bills. If they go to some clinics too, they can get an exemption. So it seems

Another woman we visited named Mary can’t work very hard any more, carrying heavy loads increases the pains in her chest. She just finished some anti-TB treatment but is still suffering from chest pains. I noticed the scars on the arms of some of the women today left over from sores. So Mary also needs to go to the hospital with Happiness, who is still experiencing a lot of health problems (although her feet that were swollen previously and were more normal today). But they also didn’t think they had the money to go to the hospital and pay for medicine. Again, supposedly they should be able to get a letter from a ten cell house leader and they should be exempted. But it seems like they don’t know how to follow through with the process. *something we should do is make sure any counselors know the process so they can inform those who need help* Their mother who they were living with is exempted from paying taxes because she is a widow and doesn’t have money.

And now I am just pondering. Wondering what many of the women we met with today are feeling and experiencing deep down in their heart. They couldn’t hide some of the pain and anxiety written over their faces and spilled out thanks. For some women, especially bound in poverty and feelings of hopelessness, I wonder how if the thought crosses their mind suggesting that maybe it won’t be so bad if they die from HIV. Maybe some feel like there is nothing really to live for. Maybe some feel idle and useless because they are unable to work at times. I just wonder, remembering the times they talked and listened as their eyes looked far off and at moments seemed very distant, staring at some huge object rolling towards them, the weight of the future, threatening to take away their arms and souls from their children playing with the stools in the corner of the room, laughing and smiling...and I wondered, does it take too much energy to care about what will happen to them, and to be afraid, to really take in and digest the pain and suffering of their circumstances and most likely the suffering of their children? Or less if they just let it go and live as best they can without receiving extra help or trying....
This is why people need to feel supported, loved and encouraged. So they don’t feel this burden alone. So that they don’t feel apathetic (even if they have the right because no one is caring for them). They need to know they can live a good life even with HIV. That they can experience life and joy despite the harsh reality. That they can feel empowered to live strong and love strong. That they are supported spiritually and materially...only God can hear the inner groanings....only the power, spirit and love of God can break in and heal...

The last person that we saw today was a woman named Vase who had three children (Louie, Kristina and Jacqueline). Her husband died in 2002. She said she suffered a lot from malaria, foot sores and coughing. But each week she is able to be checked at General Hospital by a Jewish doctor who is a chest consultant. She has good medecine but still loses her voice and throat gets very dry. Her daughter Kristina is sponsored by a compassion project at Kanisa la Mungu. God Bless Compassion, I have such a respect for that organization. She gets some food each month from Compassion—but they are the only other help that she receives.In the project at our church Kanisa La Mennonite, they make sure to take care of the parents to make sure they are checked and tested for HIV and have medicine and health care if they are positive (so it’s the parents not just the children who are benefiting). She had no business at the moment since she was too sick to work. She sells tomatoes. She has been really sick the last four months and has been waiting to get strong. She tested positive for HIV and so is on some medication to help

Mrs K and I discussed creating self-sustaining income generating projects for people/families struggling with HIV. That I think may become an important, critical part of the program to maintain its support to increase availability of funds for health, educational and domestic needs.

I had dinner with a woman named Flora tonight. I was late this afternoon for lunch at her house so met her at the Wednesday service and went to her house afterwards. She had prepared some special food for me, and I just felt very touched and blessed by the visit. I am just blown away by the kindness and love people show here.

Dreadhead Me

2005-09-28T08:04:00.000-07:00

a primary school in Chamwino, Dodoma

2005-09-28T07:53:00.000-07:00

Sasa

2005-09-28T07:32:00.000-07:00

Tuesday September 27, 2005

Visited Balm of Gilead Centre today—an orphanage that MCC helps to support…An amazing story and lady who started the place which now takes care of 21 orphans in Dodoma and a secondary school 35 km away for 50 orphans…After her own sister (who was mentally challenged) was mistreated and neglected by family that she had been staying with came to stay with her, she began to think about how many other orphans needed help and assistance, and then she did something about it…

Monday September 26, 2005

Took the MCC people on some home-care visits today. We went to four different homes. We had tried to pick people who were very open in sharing about their situation. All four women we talked to came from Muslim backgrounds. Some of them come to the church for services and also to receive help. Some of them expressed the church was the only place/people that was helping them…

Each had individual stories they shared with us, about their families, history. All of them seemed very happy today, they were so glad to have visitors. Some had even said they had given up all hope after the news of being HIV positive, but after the home-care visits they had received some of their hope had been restored, they knew they had people that were behind them…

Sunday September 25, 2005

Another little French baby enters the world…. Jillian Esther French! Got word from Jake and Sarah that Jillian was born on Saturday….she is beautiful and a big one: 10 pounds 9 ounces---1 more ounce than Rosie. In Jakes famous words… “In our family, we have beeeeg babies!” Ain’t that the truth….

Sunday September 25, 2005

MCC people arrived for a visit yesterday and came to the service today. It was a lively service, and I felt encouraged by the group of 4 that arrived, all very cool people. We had a meeting afterwards discussing what the health committee and HIV/AIDS committee are doing, so all the community members involved representing youth, elderly, men and women, widows, were able to share their experiences, struggles, thoughts and visions. I shared a bit about the home visits and what some of the needs were according to different
Situations. Have a report I am trying to write even now.

The meeting ended at 5, and later that evening we had some sodahs at the New Dodoma Hotel---not a place I plan to stay in. a little to luxurious for my taste. But they had a nice tv with a soccer match on so maybe Ill take some of the kids to the place to watch some games. Been trying to catch some of the world-cup qualifier games on tv, as well as champions league, and the premiership…take me back to the good old Kenya days where dad and I would stay up late make some popcorn and chai and watch a good football match on the ‘tele’…school nights and weekends…

Saturday September 24, 2005

The Compassion program at the church held a church service to pray for those who have suffered from Hurricane Katrina and Rita. The 230 kids and their parents were invited to pray for those who have been affected. It was one of the most touching things I have seen. It was very powerful. It was 3 hours long, lots of singing and praying, and tears shed. People crying out to God for his deliverance, mercy and provision…There are many sponsors who have been affected by the hurricanes, so that’s part of the reason why the children gathered to pray for those in need…it was very moving…

A log of Home Visits to those with HIV this week

2005-09-22T23:13:00.000-07:00

I was congratulated for being the first mzungu (European) to enter a driver’s dala dala (matatu—taxi-van) today. Maybe some mzungu has discovered this phenomenom and have already tried to be great dala dala explorers trying to make a stake like Livingstone, seeing as much as possible, the sights of the “insides” for the “first” time.

Another guy commented the same day wondering why I was taking a dala dala…wazungus he stated didn’t like the problems of public transport and therefore didn’t know how to spend their money wisely, and so were bound to run out attempting to live more luxuriously…I told him well yeah, I definitely don’t prefer the dala dala. I’d rather go by foot because its free.

Wednesday September 21

The brother of a woman we visited last week who was in need of a CD-4 test showed up today to let us know she had gone to the hospital and was given a prescription for some medication (looked like the medication may have been for syphilis). We didn’t see and indication for the CD4 test although we know it was probably done. And we don’t therefore know if she received any anti-viral drugs, so we are going to visit her later this week. The medication she was prescribed required some injections and therefore someone with nursing background will have to assist her to inject the medication.

The brother looked tired and worn out. He was thankful to receive the help but his eyes looked so burdened. I was just remembering when we visited them last week, we walked up to his sister who was sitting beneath a tree on a mat sparing her from the dusty ground. She was brushing her short hair very carefully and gently. She was very thin, (in her late 50s) and lifted her long arms with each meticulous stroke. On the ground beside her was a neat pile of black hair. I wondered if she was saving hair that had fallen out, making the pile a little larger each day, but I didn’t for sure. Maybe they were from some extensions, but the pile of hair just looked so real I wondered if she was keeping it.

Tuesday September 20

Had a long conversation with the pastor today about some of the community groups working on HIV care and prevention. He had just come back from visiting on of the groups that was recently started this last year in May. Members of the community that were suffering from HIV formed a group, and appointed a man to be the communications/spokesman etc. They want to focus on community-based care, income-generating projects (livestock etc.) to increase their economic standing---specifically so they can support themselves and obtain the food and nutrition that they need, and hopefully the medication they need. They are just starting and are looking for funding in order to start projects. After Manesseh told them about the prevention programs and home-based care program we are trying to get going, he expressed his interest in obtaining more information and training, stating that they would be ready to help mobilize their communities in HIV aids prevention and awareness.

One extremely sad story that Manesseh just informed of was that the chairperson of the group he just visited this last year committed suicide in July because she had been rejected by her family, stigmatized by her community, and was not even able to buy food she needed to stay as healthy as possible. She had even come to the church seeking for help at one time. She poured petrol on her clothes, entered the circle of clothes than lit a match. He just found out that it was the woman who had visited with him once who was the chairman of the group, and who had committed suicide due to despair and alienation.

There is so much that needs to be done on reaching out to people suffering so that they do not feel abandoned and rejected. We need to help break the barriers and walls that perpetuate judgment and shame, when we should be offering hope, encouragement, acceptance and downright love.

There is lots to figure out: increasing access to medication, anti-virals, food, prevention programs in schools, using- mobilizing those in the community (getting those who feel strong and compelled enough who are HIV) to teach and educate others to help prevent the problem, and so much more. Many people will start to come more who are just in need of food, because its hard enough finding enough to eat to feed themselves and anyone they might be taking care of.

There are a few people within the church who are HIV + but they are silent about it, afraid of speaking out and being judged, although many have informed the pastors but ask them not to share the information. The pastor talked about how he had an idea for increased awareness through a community crusade-like gathering that would attempt to attract and inform people in the community, doing dramas, singing, speaking etc.

I am amazed at how much initiative and action people have taken here. Of course to them its plainly a simple responsibility because people are dying and they want to prevent it. I have already been touched by the people here who are resilient, compassionate and determined to reach out, and I feel honored to be able to work with them.

Monday, Septermber 19.

I went on another home visit with Mrs. K today. A woman came to the church yesterday who was seeking some help for her friend who has HIV and needs some help. So we went this afternoon to the home of her friend, Asha.

Asha and her family greeted us warmly when we came through the door inviting us to sit down. She showed us her book which gave the list of medicines that she has been taking. She has been on the medication for about a year. Her husband passed away last year, and then she went to the hospital to obtain some anti-virals. After her C4 count jumped from the hundreds to the thousand bracket. She said she knew she was positive since 2003 but I think she implied her husband had not allowed her to go receive treatment, for her or for himself, denying the problem.

I asked her what symptoms she had suffered from and she stated that she had chest problems mainly, but she didn’t have enough money for any of those medicines, that could help her cough. She was receiving the anti-virals for free from Tumaini clinic. (The government has tried to supply the medication free for patients). The governments has also tried to give free medication for home-care givers, nurses, who treat HIV patients, for many of their symptoms and ailments. Mrs Kenyunko has a number of families that she visits and helps take care of their symptoms. Its crucial that patients have access to other medication because what people die from are the diseases that are caused by a low immune system such as typhoid, malaria, TB, etc. And every patient looks different, meaning they often have different symptoms from HIV—aching legs, chest pains, the list goes on.

But she has received no home-care visits, so we are going to do an investigation to see why she has received no help at home. Mrs. K stated that there should be home-care givers designated to assist in her area. But offered her to come in and visit her at her hospital like many other patients do.

Asha stated that because she did not have enough money, she could not buy the medicine, or all the food suggested for increased nutrition, pay rent, and pay the fee for her 16 year old son to transfer schools from the village to a primary school in Dodoma. (I believe his level was primary 5).

I tried to ask what she needed help with most, sort of implying a “priority list” to try and see what other ways we might be able to help her, and she said there were just too many needs it was impossible to make some kind of list! Yeah, I needed to eat that comment.

And so, I suggested to Mrs. K that we bring some people to visit her next week to give them a picture of people who are in need greatly, in multiple ways. Asha was very open to this idea and so she will be a great person to have share about what she is going through openly, and hopefully we will be able to help her more. This project is starting out small but will hopefully increase its capacity in the next year or few years.

I talked to Baba last night afterwards, explaining about how much need there is here. He talked about how we will be figuring out how much we can do for people and help. He said he would rather “wound many, then kill a few” meaning (and it needs to be understood how he meant it) that we (people) need to share their resources and give a little to the many that we can, instead of draining them into a select few, because we are unable to help with everything or solve all problems. He stated this year we will probably be assisting about 20 families or so, and then increase that as the project capacity increases, with more funding, training, etc.

September 14, 2005

Yesterday I went on some other home-care visits with John and Mrs. K. We went to the area of town where John lives, for he knew many families and neighbours affected by HIV/AIDS.

We met a family within whom both daughters were infected by HIV. The mothers name was Mora, then her daughter Mary, but I just forgot the other daughter's name. They had three children. One of the husbands had died from AIDS. One of their sons was very sick as well, whom also might be infected. They mentioned they had suffered from Typhoid or TB—often a killer disease when linked with HIV.

The second family we went too a woman was there named Amina who was being taken care of her brother. She had tested positive for HIV in Dar es Salam and was told to get medicines in Dodoma at one of the hospitals but when she came here they wouldn’t give her the medicines until she took another test measuring her C-4. She didn’t have the money to do it (8000 shillings=8 $) so she went back home. We helped her out and are she plans to go to the hospital today, take the test and then start to receive the anti-virals from Tumaini clinic (which I guess is taking care of many patients, orphans and children—and is struggling to have enough resources to do it all). She was very open in sharing about her situation, living with HIV.

While we were there a woman named Asha came and asked to speak with us so we went to here house…She began to tell us of her ailments, aching legs, skin diseases, abcesses on her body etc. Mrs. K was counseling her that she needed to go to the hospital and be tested, Asha looked down and said she didn’t want too. She was afraid. Probably afraid that she would test positive, people would find out and look down on her….she had been married or with some others before, and lost two children to sickness. He last husband complained of aching legs too. He died last year. Now she is married to an older man, and he was encouraging her to go to the hospital as well even though she was very scared. After the counseling she stated that she would go to the hospital where Mrs. Kenyunko works.

That night after the service I went with Maneseh and the Mrs.K to visit the home of a Muslim woman, also living with HIV. She had helped Manesseh’s household get access to a water pipe in the neighbourhood. She was very receptive to the help we could give her, some rice, beans, and ugali. It definitely seems like there are good relationships between Christians and Muslims here. Many are working together. She had someone who was doing some home care for her, but she said she would be happy for more visitors and assistance.

There is some cooking oil also available at the church Three families we visited the day before came to get the oil in the morning. They also can get milk every day. (many of them being the affected families whose children are sponsored by compassion).

The poverty level here is extremely high in Tanzania. And this region is the poorest in the country of Tanzania. poverty has and is impacting people’s ability to get access to health-care, nutritious food, etc.

I am starting to become extremely burdened by what is starting to sink in. And the challenges of what lay ahead, and I have only been here for a week and a half. (language, the huge amount of need, helping to figure out how we will be structuring all the multi-initiatives in the next few months). The people here are amazing because they have taken so much intiative and are ready to help people suffering from HIV/Aids, as they are doing already.

Tuesday September 13
Went on my first home visits today for some families affected by HIV/Aids. Veronica and I, and Mrs. K—head of the community health committee (including the HIV aids initiative) measured the 4 kg of maize, 3 kg of beans, and 3 kg of rice, for 5 families. Mussa and Mrs. K and I then went to visit some of the families with kids sponsored by the Compassion program who are living with HIV, have lost parents or have a parent with HIV.

Mussa is so loved and trusted though, we were all welcomed and asked to come again. The first visit, was the family of a kid named Lucas who has HIV. Hes 12 years old. We were sitting in the living room when he walked in. My heart broke when I saw him instantly. Because he was acting and smiling like any other kid would. But he had some skin diseases and rashes and his eyes looked really yellow. He would smile with a big grin when he would say something funny. His father has HIV but was not there at the time. I just wanted to hold him. I had to suck up the tears that started to come whever I looked at him… it killed me. That a child suffers from HIV….that millions do…that here was a real face of a precious kid, living with this disease…and there are so many other women, men and children.

We visited a few other families. A woman named Bahati (means “Luck” in kiswahili).who had been confirmed HIV (she takes care of one of the sponsored children) and she showed us her anti-viral drugs which she received from the government hospital free of charge, although only two hospitals provide them and don’t have enough for everyone because there are too many people infected/affected, and not enough to go around. The church provides 2 L of milk per day for the families we visited and others. So everyday the children or their family members go to receive them. I met Bahati in the office a few days ago, and started to talk to her, but I didn’t know she had HIV before I saw her this afternoon.

We visited the home of another child, who may be HIV positive, but its just not known for sure yet. Her grandmother is taking care of her because both of her parents died. The little house looked like it could fall down at any time…had two beds, no mosquito nets, and a jiko in another room. Her grandmother bibi was small and wiry, but kept on saying her thanks/shukuru to God that we visited and said how she was so thankful the church was providing some things to them, a bed, food, school stuff, the milk…every bit helps…

I went to Musa’s house afterwards and hung out with his family. Then returned home to find Peace and Nema at the house, and wanted to sit on my bed with me. They are so funny. After Peaces bath, I sprayed her neck with some body spray that I had with me and she immediately lifted up her arms for me to spray her armpits…and then she proceeded to eat all the grapes/zibibu that I brought home. She always want to eat, and she is such a little thing. Anything I have, she'll take it out of my hand and declares she’ll finish it for me. I have had to become less possessive any time I have my favorite soda bitter lemon.

There is this girl I met on the street walking to the church one day named Aisha. She took my hand in mine and decided she was going to come to church with me. I guess she had no school that day or may have been returning from a visit to the hospital. She wanted to accompany me later on starying that she loves wazungu. She came back again today to visit. Right now, her mom and step dad don’t want her to live with them (she is 13) and was beaten by her stepfather. She wanted to see if I could help her. Pastor Manesseh counseled her for awhile and my Swahili teacher…May God give her strength and courage each day to live and desire to find peace… guide her to your feet. Feet of love and arms of grace, may you bend over and pick her up and may she feel you completely.

mimi itwa jojo, ninakaa dodoma

2005-09-12T07:24:00.000-07:00

Arrival
In the beginning was a blog, a blog from Dodoma. I have been in Dodoma for a week now and am still taking it all in, the last week has felt like a month...

Arrived in Nairobi on a Sunday night. I stayed at the Mennonite Guest House for the night, which brought back lots of memories from childhood, playing on the old tire swing, eating playdough with Gretchen in her den, sleepovers at Beth’s house, playing ghost and the graveyard, and all that. I was sad to not spend some more time in Nairobi but hope that I will take a trip to Kenya this year. The early shuttle didn’t come like it was supposed which made me slightly grateful cause Nick and I were able to go to Sarit Centre (oh mall of the past). Nick is the other person working in TZ this year. He is working in Mugumu, teaching English, and science classes to nurses and doctors there. One of the first question Nick asked me in Dodoma was, "Do you bird?" and I was like "What!?" oh, birding of course. Yes I have a pair of binoculars ductaped to my body everywhere I go (or not soo much). He is a passionate “birder” so spotted many new birds everywhere we went and has about 4 books of birds with him. I actually think I could get into it (surprisingly). It’s actually a great way to enjoy nature and East Africa is a bird paradise-- in the words of Ron, "It dont get no betta than thisss!" So while at Sarit I thought about going up to Nargis at the salon and showing her my new dreads. I know she would have remembered me because of my mom and probably flipped out.

Arusha—
Took the shuttle to Arusha at noon and enjoyed the African roadside. It took about 6 hours till we arrived near the base of Mount Meru. Arusha is a pretty place. We were picked up by our country rep Rodney who took us to his home where we met Barb, the other rep, and their three little kids Janae, Trevor, and Levi who all know Swahili. The following night we were able to go to Nyantito’s house, meet his wife Winny and little girl Prisca. We went with some other missionaries Christopher and Rebecca. Ugali and sukuma wiki again at last…and great people...

So we hung out in Arusha for the next two days, getting to know the place a bit. Nick and I went to watch the International tribunal for Rwanda which has been taking place in Arusha the last 6 years. There were three court cases going on and we sat in on one of them. Just going to sit in for a couple of hours was pretty intense. A witness was being cross-examined on an event in which people (Tutsis) had been ordered to leave the hospital by a certain doctor and were then killed by Hutus in the surrounding area. It seemed to be a very slow process. There was a lot of confusion in the translation of the statements that the witness had given (which had been translated into French from his own Rwandan language/dialect a couple times slightly differently). The defender had a different interpretation than the prosecutor. One translation suggested that he had said the doctor had “released” or “discharged” those hospitalized before they were ready to go. Another translation implied the Tutsi patients were “chased” away from the hospital only to be murdered later. It was all so crazy to think about.

It was also fascinating to get a glimpse of how people are trying to restore justice in some way to the horror that happened. It is still an immense wound that will take decades or longer to heal. The court is supposed to continue for 5 more years. And of course that is only part of the process for healing the peoples of Rwanda deep pain and tragedy. How can we truly begin to comprehend the immensity of what happened? Its heart-breaking.

Arrival in Dodoma
It takes 12 hours to ride from Arusha to Dodoma! I was accompanied by Margaret, a social worker for Compassion, which has a site at the Kanisa la Mennonite (Iringa Rd). Had a lovely little girl sit on my lap part of the way. We had two stops and I didn’t meander at all. Carla and Kurt I remembered your bus story, which made me bust out laughing, but I really didn’t want to take the risk of being left behind and hopping on another bus to chase down the other one!

Arrived in Dodoma and went to Pastor Amos house for supper. I have received such a warm welcome from everybody here. The next day I visited the church and met people who work here. Our office for programs on HIV/AIDS will be ready in a couple months. Amos' wife Esther is studying in Zambia for another two months and she will be the HIV/Aids response coordinator, and I will be helping and supporting her as best I can as a "facilitator". Right now I am studying Swahili so have a couple months to immerse myself in it before really helping.

New Life Choir
That day after hanging out in the office I went to the New Life Choir practice—the youth Choir (teens-30’s…). It will be very fun to sing with them this year. The next day I had to peform with them at a wedding. It was pretty hilarious. I didn’t really know any of the words but enough rhythm to move with them and mouth what I think they are singing! Because I have joined and have to go up there with them, I have had to try and follow the steps and sing when I hear it all for the first time (on stage or whatever). Yeah, it’s a little nerve wracking, cause I don’t really know what song we are singing until its over. But its all cool.

It must be a new form of impromptu dancing…. I was telling my family I think the African choir exposure from the time of the wee babe stage has been entrenched in my memories growing up, sort of lying dormant until Lisa Woolsey began to inspire it up again (along with Aimee, Carla, Anne G.--and Karin dear) into a goofy, cool, but slightly cheesy dance style of our own. I sort of get the African choir beat.

The wedding was cool, but super long (that is to me--I'll adjust). I was about to fall out of my chair seriously. It was very interesting wedding though, will post some pics and thoughts later…

Goat Feast
Went to a goat feast on Saturday night of a family from the church. For starters we had goat soup…that stuff is potent! I am sure if you drank a bucket you would start to grow goat fur on yer chest. Almost made me want to go gnaw on some clothes on the line or rummage through some taka taka (garbage). Not quite. Anyone recognize this line? “Nothings as good as our goat’s soup grandfathaaa!” then pilauf, ugali, more ugali and you guessed it. Ugali. And some salad to add some balance, and I forgot the goat meat.

It was a beautiful meal to share with such beautiful people in a little open air courtyard on a cool night with some Tanzanian music blaring out.

My New Home
I am living with Jane, sister of Esther (wife of Amos), father of Amiinidab, son of Josiah…not quite. That sounds a bit like Matthew 1.

Jane is 25 and an accountant. She is super funny. She also speaks some English. My other housemate in Veronica who teaches nursery school at the church. It’s a small little place which I have already grown to be quite fond of. It’s got plenty of dudus, cockroaches, some lizards plastered between the shirati and my window screen, and a nice mouse or rat went straight up my wall last night into a hole in the ceiling. Oh, but the best part is that we are right by a disco, a large one, so I fall asleep to the disco beat every night. (just like Eastleigh—a bar on every side. Easteigh was the area we lived in Nairobi). Yeah, I still like it. It’s about a 40 minute walk from the church, which I will continue to venture until I get a bike. Veronica hardly knows any English, except for, “I am not feeling very tiired!” I am enjoying them a lot, but looking forward to the day when I will be speaking and communicating in swahili a lot more than I am able now.

Our house is in the back of another house so we have quite a few neighbours. Nema who is 12, burst into my room the first day sat on my bed and decided to become my best friend. I bought a jump rope one day so I can exercise some more if I want to outside, and so we have a little competition going on every once in awhile between a few of us. Jane was so excited after I got the jump rope, she went out and bought a pair of red shorts that matched mine at the market the following day! Ah, so funny reminds me of elementary school and Kristen Koski (Now Unger) and myself having matching roller skater outfits…aye yayae.

It took me two days to get hooked to this South American (dubbed in English) soap opera called “The Revenge.” It’s horrible but now I have to watch it with Jane every night or I feel like something is missing in my day. Its just awful how they twist you like that and make you "crave it fortnightly"! But, I just discovered that Sky news from UK comes in fairly late and BBC is on in the morning—other than that I don’t have much news source, which may be a bit hard…lakini nitatafuta radio moja… I was shocked to hear about Katrina. I can't comprehend how devastating its been...Many of my new freinds here have shown a lot of sympathy...

Kanisa La Mennonite
The church is so lively and charismatic. Very lively. Its been pretty refreshing thus far to be with people who are so alive and expressive in their dancing, singing. Will definitely be writing about experiencing this community and church more in the future.