Forgive me for the amount of time it has taken me to catch up on my writing from my time in Africa!
I believe I left off merely a few hours before leaving Gisenyi to cross the border into Congo.
After lunch, we gathered our luggage for our journey into Congo. We were already an hour or two "behind schedule" (TIA)... We ended up having to take two trips because we only had one driver, so Jessie, Benson and I traveled to the edge of the border first, and waited for the driver to bring Matthew and Bethany. While we waited on the Rwanda side of the border, we filled out all the necessary documents and looked out across Lake Kivu... so peaceful and serene...
After the rest of the team arrived and filled out their forms, we went together to stand in line, while Didi went to get a car, and some men took our luggage ahead, across the border for us. It was quite impressive, really... you have to realize that each of our bags were about 50 lbs... these men wore the duffel bags like backpacks, one on their back and one in the front, then had 3 suitcases stacked on top of their heads! Like I said, very impressive. We stood in line, and tried not to leave space for people to cut in line... (only a couple made it through). The official looked at our documents and passports, stamped them, acknowledging the fact that we were leaving Rwanda, and sent each of us on our way.
We showed our stamped passports to the man standing by the large barrier, leading to "no man's land" between Rwanda and Congo... we passed through, leaving the nice, paved roads of Rwanda (compliments of the Chinese) behind us... Didi met us here and led us over and up the steps of another building to give our documents to the Congolese officials to give us permission to get into Congo. We stood here while Didi talked with the men behind the iron bars... Benson bought some orange/lime-like fruit while we talked to a group of kids headed to climb the volcano... after getting our passports stamped again, we climbed into the two cars waiting for us. By this time, it was already starting to get dark... It did not take me long to realize how very different things were on this side of the border... We had to drive 10kph the entire time because of the pot-hole-filled roads... We wove in and out of traffic, dodging large craters, only to hit others... dust and exhaust fumes saturated the air in the streets of Goma... crowds of people walked up and down the sides of the dirt/gravel roads... what would have taken ten minutes took us hours.
It was pitch black outside by the time we reached the Catholic Guesthouse/compound where we were to stay. We drove up to a metal gate and Didi honked the horn... a minute or so later, the gate was opened for us and we drove through. Immediately, there was a stark contrast from the chaos we had just traveled through. We drove over neat, stone gravel to park underneath street lamps and palm trees... we climbed out of the cars into a peaceful silence... As we carried our bags to our rooms, we looked out to our right, and could see the volcano's vibrant orange glow reflecting of the clouds and dust that hovered above and around it... so beautiful. As soon as we got our bags to our rooms, the skies opened up and rain fell to the ground in droves... we sprinted through the rain to the dining hall to eat the supper that had been laid out for us- some kind of broth soup and rice. After dinner, we ran back through the rain to our rooms to prepare for the day ahead of us... Jessie and I talked through the workshop we were to lead while I glued 150 mirrors to pieces of thick paper for the art project that went along with it... that is, until the power went out... remembering only after the glue gun had cooled down that it wouldn't work without electricity, we decided to call it a night and pick it up in the morning. Both of us, exhausted, welcomed the excuse to finally get some sleep. After draping our mosquito nets over our beds and curling up underneath them, it did not take long for the sound of the African rain falling on the tin roof and the thunder in the distance to lull us to sleep.
We awoke to the sound of birds singing their morning songs... I looked out our window to see an old man rowing a long canoe across the vast lake- I'd had no idea we were so close to the water! It was such a lovely sight- the bright green vegetation framing the dark blue water below the bright blue sky, hugging the mountains in the distance... We hurriedly got dressed and finished gluing the remaining mirrors to pieces of paper and packed all our supplies in a large suitcase... we walked to the dining hall for breakfast and to wait for Didi. Waiting for us were sweet rolls the size of my hand, along with honey and an assortment of jams. Shortly after we finished eating, Didi arrived to pick us up. We loaded up the jeep and set out for the Dina Center. This is a center for girls, 75% of which have been raped in the wars. Again, we bounced along the lava rock streets and dodged craters in the road...
We pulled into a compound protected by stone walls and an iron gate... as soon as we stepped out of the jeep, we were surrounded by young girls and women. I looked down, and a bouquet of beautiful, vibrantly colored flowers had been placed in my right hand, and a little chocolate colored hand gripped my left. Their faces were absolutely beautiful... their eyes danced and shone with joy. The next thing I knew, one girl began beating on a drum, and they all began to sing and dance... soon we all joined in the dancing. My mind took a step back to take it all in... here I was, in Congo (the place my heart loves), surrounded by these beautiful girls, all tightly packed around us, jumping up & down, and side to side to the beat of the African drum, all the while holding this precious little girl's hand in mine... time stood still in that moment for me... I never wanted it to end. After a while, we all moved over to the porch area, where they had us sit. They all lined up in front of us and the drum began to sound once again... they opened their lips and out came the sweetest, purest, most vibrant music my ears had ever heard... African music is so energetic and heartfelt... they swayed with their songs and waved their hands, singing of peace & hope, of Jesus and of Congo... we swayed and waved our hands along with them, as Didi translated some of the phrases for us.
After this, the girls were split into two groups. The older girls went with Matthew and Bethany, and Jessie and I took the younger girls... With dear Janet translating our words into Swahili, we led a workshop teaching the girls how to see themselves they way that God sees them, instead of the ways others see them because of what has been done to them. Using Scripture, we taught them that God sees them as His daughters, as beautiful, as precious, and as new creations in Christ. I explained the art project to the girls, as we handed out the pieces of paper with mirrors glued in the center of each one. I explained that they were to use the markers we gave them to draw around the mirrors things that remind them of the four ways God sees them, so when they look into the mirror, they see themselves as a daughter of the King, as beautiful, as precious, and as new. They were so excited about this project, as most of them have never owned a mirror. I drew along with them to give them an example... they would come up behind me to look over my shoulder.
After they had finished their drawings, we had a few of the girls come to the front of the room and explain what they had drawn. Then, we went on to explain that sometimes, things happen to us that prevent us from seeing ourselves they way that God sees us. We asked each girl to think of one thing that keeps them from seeing themselves the way that God sees them, and to write that thing down on the seed paper that we then passed out. After they finished, we had them hold the seed paper between their hands and to point them up to the sky. As we stood there with our hands above our heads, pointing towards heaven, I prayed over these girls and asked that God take each of these things that keep us from seeing ourselves the way He sees us and to fill us with His love and His presence. After we finished praying, we went outside and buried our seed paper in the prayer garden. Soon, wildflowers will grow in their place, symbolizing the way that God makes beauty from our pain. We spent the next hour or so hanging out with the girls while we waited on our ride.
We stopped back by the guesthouse to grab more supplies and to grab a quick lunch before we headed back out again. I walked out to look over the water for a minute, and Didi walked up behind me. "I do not want you to leave, Morgan," he said. I looked over at this kind, jolly man, and said, "I do not want to leave either, Didi..." We stood looking out at the mountains in the distance for a moment, and we walked back towards the others with our arms around each other in camaraderie.
Our next stop was to meet with Janet and the other local leaders at the Hope Counseling Center to visit a building they are thinking about using as their new base, and to discuss their needs, etc. Afterwards, Jessie and I realized that this was the last time we would see Janet this trip... I fought back tears as I hugged her neck and attempted to tell her how much I admire and appreciate her... this goodbye was so extremely painful to me, and there were many more to come... I began to wonder if I would be able to survive them all...
Again we set out... this time for the Peace Lives Center... Oh, how long I had waited for this! Peace Lives is a rehabilitation center for former child soldiers. Didi and Joseph run this center together. After another bumpy ride across Goma, we pulled off of the road. On one side of the now dirt road, children were playing futbol... on the other, a few whitewashed wooden shelters. Again, we were swarmed by kids the minute we stepped out of the car... I caught sight of Augustine and Delphin, who had been playing futbol with the kids, walking towards us. Didi began giving us a tour of the buildings. He showed us the room with the bunk beds that Jessie had funded with her birthday money, and I had wired over to Didi just months ago. In another shelter, a boy was decorating cards with banana leaves, etc. The intricacy of these were incredible! We passed by a tent that serves as a kitchen, and walked into a larger wooden building. Inside, the boys were singing along to the beat of a jerrycan-turned-drum... after listening for a minute, Didi motioned to us to follow him... he showed us their office, and some other rooms used to shelter the orphans in their new orphan ministry... Didi spoke to us of their need for money for more food for the boys. "They cannot concentrate enough to study because they are hungry, so they are not doing well in school..."
After our tour, we walked back to listen to they boys' singing. The boys then performed a drama for us, describing their rescue from the bush and their journey to Peace Lives and their journey to God. Didi stood up afterwards and proceeded to speak of his vision for the boys' futures. This was one of the highlights of the day for me... After this, we had a sweet time of prayer for the boys, the orphans, and the leaders. Each of us took one of the groups to pray for. Then, the boys prayed for us... again, I fought back tears... (these last days were very emotional for me..)
Afterwards, we had each of person in the room write on seed paper something that we needed to give up to God, and again we prayed over them and buried them in the newly dug prayer garden.
Soon after, Jessie and I were swarmed by the boys, wanting to give us cards, letters, and bead necklaces before we left. The orphans all gathered together to sing for us before we left. If my heart hadn't already melted long before this moment, it would have now.. Soon, Didi was signaling to us to make our way through the crowd to the jeep, as it was already getting dark...we made our way through the sea of beautiful faces, cherishing each one... letters were still being thrust into our hands as we climbed into the jeep... more goodbyes... my heart was breaking a little more, and I was not sure how much more I could physically handle... With my heart full, hands holding a stack of letters, and eyes moist with tears, Didi shut the doors and drove through the now crowded street, back towards the guesthouse.
We put our bags in our rooms and made our way to the dining hall for dinner, where we talked about the day... after dinner, we all walked down to the water to sit and watch the stars... the next morning, Jessie, Benson and I were to leave for our journey back to the Kigali airport... I could not bring myself to speak, for I was having to choke back tears at the heaviness and sorrow my heart was experiencing at the thought of leaving these beautiful people and this beautiful place... I decided to walk back to the room to finish packing so I could walk to the water alone later.
Back in the room, Jessie and I packed our things, and Jessie crawled into her bed and adjusted her mosquito net... I grabbed my sweater, told her goodnight, and walked into the night. Benson was out on the porch working on his computer... he asked me where I was going. I told him I was going to walk down to the water for a bit. He asked if I was going to be safe. I laughed and told him if he heard a scream, it meant that I was not sage, and made made my way out into the darkness, hoping that I would not get stung by an African centipede... I finally found the path down to the water and stepped carefully down the stairs... I walked to the edge of the water and sat down on the cement... I sat there for a few minutes, but the sound of the water beating against the concrete made it difficult to hear myself think, so I climbed up a little way to a ledge where I could still look out across the lake... It was peaceful here. It was hard to imagine all the violence happening in this area... I gathered my floor-length skirt around my legs and sighed... the sound of thunder caused me to look up and notice the lightning storm above the lake, reflecting off the clouds and across the water...
Sitting there, on the bank of Lake Kivu, watching a lightning storm over the rippling water ahead of me, and the volcano glowing brightly far behind me, I attempted to make peace with the fact that this was my last night in Congo... I do not know how long I sat like this... eventually, I heard someone walking slowly down the path towards me. It was dear Benson, coming to check to make sure I was safe. He came and sat on a nearby bench to keep me company. We talked of his people of Northern Uganda, and of many other things... We talked of his wife, and their baby that is soon to be due the same
month as my birthday... I told him that I was secretly hoping that it
would be born on my birthday. After a while, he said to me, "You are not like other muzungus I have met... you are unique, graceful, peaceful, beautiful." Over the past week, Benson and I had become very dear friends. I tried to decide if I should ignore the fact that I would have to tell him goodbye tomorrow, or if I should start preparing myself for it.. We both agreed that we would most likely be seeing each other again soon. It was getting late and I was physically, mentally and emotionally drained, so I decided to turn in for the night...
Here are the links to all my other writings from Africa:
No comments:
Post a Comment