Sweet Sunday

 One look up that "road", I think drained all the blood out of my face. We had been invited by Pastor Tanaposi, whose overseer is our friend Pastor Banda. I was to preach, and Phyllis hopefully, was going to get the opportunity to speak with the women of the church. But first we had to carefully navigate our way up what looked like a washed out river bed.

 Slowly, less than 5 kilometers per hour! That's an assumption, as looking down at the speedometer was not even an option; eyes glued to the path ahead, sizing up every rock, and the huge gullies recently carved out by the torrential rains of early summer. A couple of times it appeared the only way to keep the car from falling off and into the deeply sunken shoulder was to painstakingly straddle both sides of this quite narrow rock bed. Just enough of a balance to the left that we couldn't fall off to the right, and the same to the right so we wouldn't tumble leftward.

 Each time we would roll over a jagged rock without scraping bottom, we would both breathe a great sigh of relief. Up to the top, and a left turn onto an otherwise very rough road that somehow took on the appearance of a super highway, at least in its diminishing effect on the fear factor. Finally there, and out of the car, Phyllis repeated to Pastor Tanaposi what I had just told her; "George's sermon is going to be titled 'Fear Not'". He got it, and we all laughed.

He's a young, energetic man, just back from a two day, and two night crusade he had preached, and on about three hours sleep, was ready to greet his large, lively congregation, who would be packed into a little church, about 1/4 the size of a building suitable for an American's comfort level. Nobody, however seemed the least bit interested in complaining. They were there to worship the Lord enthusiastically through song, and dance, drums and clapping. If there's one thing I've learned about African worship, it is this: perhaps because they lack the fancy instruments we take for granted in Western churches, their voices become their finely tuned instruments, creating harmonies that would pleasantly surprise any accomplished voice instructor; nothing short of angelic.
    
Pastor Tanaposi shared a bit about the crusade he had just finished, and was excited to inform us that first of all, seven Muslims had gotten saved, among them their leader who at first resisted his very presence. He would be making regular trips back there over the coming months, and by the end of a half a year have a church established, and a pastor set in place to lead this brand new congregation. Now that's a model for church growth!
    
Unique for such an out of the way place, the service was in both Chichewa, and English. His head deacon/translator, (sorry I didn't catch his name), quite tall for Malawi, about 6' 4" with a deep, deep voice, and the most beautifully animated facial expressions I think I have ever seen. He was the guy who would stand out in the choir of a huge concert hall, if you were in the third balcony. The only difference was he stood about three feet from me the entire service. Gentle of speech, and delightfully friendly, I look forward to meeting him again, when I will most certainly get his name.
    
Pastor Tanaposi had explained to us the burden of his heart for the young people of Malawi, many of whom were throwing their lives away on alcohol and sexual immorality, but from the mix of young and old within this congregation one could truly sense his was not just idle talk. The youth had a very active role during the service with a beautiful choir of their own, and it was explained to us that they are very involved in evangelistic outreach toward the young people of the surrounding communities.
    
After the adult choir, which was as rich and gifted as the youth, I was invited up to speak.The Lord had given me Romans 12:2 to both encourage, and challenge us all to not allow the world to lock us into conformity with it, but to be transformed by His Spirit, and then allow our transformed life to be so attractive with the power and the love of God, that many of whose lives we touch will be themselves transformed. The word I spoke was very well received. At the conclusion of the service, Pastor Tanaposi had both Phyllis and me come up, and together the three of us laid hands on , and prayed blessing over each mamber of the congregation.
    
Just before that however, Phyllis got to share regarding her ministry among the poor women of the remote villages, where she teaches hygiene, sanitation, and safe childbirth, along with the Gospel, and of the villages of Kainga and Pahuwa, where she was invited last week to teach after we had completed well repairs in both communities bringing relief to well over 400 families. One young woman named Deborah, who is also the church treasurer, heard Phyllis mention her need for a woman to translate for her came up and said she would be happy to work with her in this ministry. They'll have the opportunity to work together first at her home church, as Phyllis was also invited to teach the women there on a Saturday in the near future.
    
At the end, we were called up front to receive a gift from the congregation. They handed us a large, heavy package, double bagged in heavy plastic sacks, individually tied at the top. We then walked outside, and as is the tradition in many churches here, we shook hands, one by one with every man, woman, and child in the congregation, and headed home curious as to what our gift was. I have seen live chickens, feet tied together for slaughter looking fairly sedate as they were possibly trying to contemplate their fate. I've never killed and cleaned a chicken in my life, and wasn't interested in beginning this day. To our relief, the first opportunity we had we opened the bags and looked inside to find three 1 kilogram bags of white rice, and a couple large bunches of bananas.
    
So rich, and this beautiful day was only half over!
    
    
     
     
     
    

Christmas Day in Pahuwa

As we drove into the village of Pahuwa to repair the well, scores of children from nearby villages waved as we drove by then ran to meet us when we stopped. Unlike Kainga, where we had just that morning repaired their well, there are few trees in Pahuwa, and this well was in a wide open field with only a small patch of shade where we parked our car more than 200 meters away from the well.

The children gathered under that tree, marveled at our car, touching it and viewing themselves in its mirrors. Among them were girls as young as six with infants or toddlers strapped to their backs, freeing their mothers to do other work, perhaps collecting firewood, getting water from a distance sorce, or pounding their maze into flour.

The African summer sun can be brutal, and although we stood in the shade of an umbrella most of the hours we were by the well at Pahuwa, over time we felt the heat draining our energy. At one point, I knew that I should rest. George walked me to the car and turned on the air conditioner. I closed my eyes to rest, half dozing. I blinked and became aware of many little faces peering quietly at me through the windows. Again, I rested and felt refreshed.

When I awoke, there were a dozen or more men observing or assisting with the well repair, but I marveled that ther were still no women there to meet us. This was unusual because collecting water is considered women's work, and typically, the women are there to celebrate with songs and dancing.

Frankly, when we have attempted to talk with men about relieving the burden of the women, more often than not, the men just don't seem to get it. When I say, "The women have a heavy burden and work very hard. We want to lift that burden." They answer, "Sure they do," but the attitude is always something like this, "Of course women have their work to do. That is the way it  is, as it always has been and should be."  We have learned that we must take the message directly to the women we came to serve. The message we had was for them. We longed to tell them that God knows them by name and cares about their every concern.

We just couldn't leave that village without addressing the women. When the men were ready to cap off the well, check the water flow and leave, I announced my desire to speak with the women. A young man who overhead me went to find the women and ask them to come and meet me. When they eventually arrived and learned that their well was now working, they were very happy, looked me sincerely in the eyes and shook my hand, saying, "Zikomo." Thank you.

None of the women spoke any English, but one of the men knew enough and helped me tell them that I wanted to come back to visit their village, that I wanted to teach them things I have learned about how to keep families healthier. They asked, "Just for women?" Yes. Just for women. Many rushed forward to shake my hand. One elderly woman pointed to her stomach and made a grimaced face. She was asking for information, and that was encouraging.

It was settled. We would come back with the goal of providing life saving information about sanitation and hygiene, clean births, preventing HIV/AIDS and malaria, how to purify water, all things that will keep their families healthier and somthing the women in the viillages are very interested in. Beyond our teaching the women how to keep their families healthier, our second goal was to build relationships that can open the door for the Gospel.

It felt good knowing the village now has clean water and that we will be welcomed when we come back to teach. Now, to focus on the children sitting in the shade of that lone tree. I pulled out a colorful parachute and all the children circled it. Then I tossed a rubber ball to its center. As they played, their smiles and giggles told me everything I needed to know. No interpreter needed.

After over six hours in the sun, we started our journey out of the villages. It was Christmas Day. What a joy it ws being able to give the gift of clean water to over 500 families in the villages of Pahuwa and Kainga.

Solar Cooking

Several days ago, Phyllis, taking advantage of the partially sunny day we were having, decided to take out the solar cooker we brought with us, and attempt to cook a pot of brown rice. About five hours later she had successfully cooked it to perfection. We had some that day, one other day, and we'll probably finish it off tonight. One of our projects is to introduce these to the extremely poor and overworked women in the remote villages. These should work extremely well during the dry season down in the villages where there is very little shade.
I'm so proud to be her husband, and extremely blessed!

Christmas in Pahuwa and Kainga Villages

What a beautiful Christmas Day. We were in the villages of Pahuwa and Kainga, repairing two wells and giving the gift of clean water to about 500 families. What an honor that was.

Scores of people watched as the last piece of PVC pipe and the final stainless steel rod were placed and the well cover installed. A woman rushed forward to be the first one to pump.

As the first water came gushing out of the well, the women and I celebrated with singing and dancing. They were so happy. We told them to thank God for the gift because He is the one who enabled us to give it. The Pahuwa well had been broken for six years.

Yusef, the Helpful Hardware Man

Among the hundreds of shop owners in the Zomba market is Yusef, a young Muslim hardware salesman. His tiny shop, with its variety of nuts and bolts, locks and lightbulbs, is near one of the main entrances to the market. He may not stock everything you would find in a big box store, but Yusef always presents himeslf as friendly and helpful. We have missed him a time or two when he was at noon prayers, but generally he sees us as soon as we enter the market. In fact, he is practically unavoidable.

Once we came in a different entrance, and we thought we had made it past him without being noticed, then suddenly, he was behind us saying, ""What are you looking for?" George answered, "We need copper wire to hang a mirror." The words were hardly out of his mouth when Yusef was walking away saying, "Wait here." Zip, around a corner, and he was out of sight.

What were we to do? We felt kind of obligated  to stand watch over his little shop. After all, the young man was being so helpful. Five minutes later, he presented  us a coil of coopper wire, saying, "For you, a good price. 800 Kwacha." George said, "No. That's too much. 500 Kwacha."   Yusef counters, "700 Kwacha." We pay Yusef, then a few minutes later, we realize the wire cost us twice what it would have been if we had found it ourselves.

Ok. We're paying attention now. On our next trip to the market, up popped Yusef asking if he can help us.  "I can't tell you what I want, said George, " because you will charge me twice as much as the shop around the corner. No thank you. I will go and find it myself."  Yusef answered, "Georgie, I know you very good. If I give it you at 500 Kwacha, next time you say 200 Kwacha." Then he laughed.

Sharing Mangos

Harry, our gardener, has no garden of his own, but the compound  we share has two mango trees a peach tree, and another fruit tree I have not yet identified. Although the mango trees are virtually dripping with ripe fruit, George and I have not eaten any. The monkeys in the neighborhood, however, love to drop in for a treat.

Recently, Harry was walking around the corner of our house on his way to do some work in our lower yard, when suddenly  he started scooping up pebbles as he ran and hurling them toward the treetops on the lower slopes of our property.

It never bothered me, sharing our mangos with monkeys, until I realized Harry has a wife and five children.

Pastor Appreciation Day

This  is Pastor Appreciation Day, Malawi style. In this photo the pastor's wife was being presented a live chicken. There were chickens, sugar, rice, flour, and eggs among other gifts. George and I laughed afterward, "Which came first, the chickens or the eggs?" We both witnessed it: it was the chickens. The people came forward with gifts, mostly food, but there were also many gifts of Kwacha (Malawian currency) that were tossed toward a large basket with much exuberant dancing.

 

I say toward because there was money all over the floor that was periodically collected and placed on a blanket. I have described in other writing Malawian hospitality.

 

At major community events like this one, or family events, such as weddings and funerals, they are willing to give until it hurts, because it is part of the culture. We learned later that some gave their last Kwacha.

 

Fear Not

So, about a week ago, I noticed what looked like some awful fungus or bacteria growing out of the concrete living room floor. I instantly thought flesh-eating bacteria, or perhaps even something worse. This is after all the heart of Africa. I calmly showed Phyllis, then immediately proceeded to unload a volley of pure bleach from a spray bottle, and there, they were all gone. I showed them.
Yesterday they were back, only this time with reinforcements in two other rooms. The Bible says if you can't get rid of the mold, the best thing is to knock the house down. I think I would have a hard time explaining that one to the landlord. Now, what to do? I got online and did a google word search for "white fuzzy mold growing out of concrete floor". It took me to a scholarly article put out by North Dakota State University, and another study as well, both confirming what I had most likely found, and how to test if that's indeed what I had seen.
I poured a few drops of that lethal compound known as water on it, and watched it immediately dissolve into oblivion. Both articles assured me that if that is what the result was, what I was coming undone about was simply some salt or calcium compound occurring in a concrete floor during damp weather. We certainly have lots of that around during this, the rainy season. I remembered Whose hands we are in.

The Baby Dedication

I was so excited Sunday to be part of a baby dedication. The pastor had six babies to be dedicated to the Lord. At the invitation, the mothers brought their little ones to the altar and presented them to one of the pastors or deacons.

George and I were each given an infant to hold and pray for. As we prayed, we asked God to give them His favor, to protect them, to bring them early in life into His kingdom.

I care so much for little Malawi. I felt as if I was praying for the future of the nation

The Thrasher and the Malaria Boots

 Harry, our gardener, came walking toward our open kitchen window, saying softly, "Madam?" From our living room, we could see him as he approached, so George and I walked to greet him. Although Harry doesn't speak English well, he certainly knows more English than we do Chichewa, and he is not afraid to piece together the words he knows to communicate.

He came to make two requests of us related to his work. He wanted a new thrasher, a tool with a hook-like blade and a short handle which is used for cutting grass. He said his old one is broken. His second request was for a pair of rubber boots.

The first time we met Harry and his family, he was wearing a pair of worn out, black patent leather women's flats with a little white flower on each side. Neither his wife nor children had shoes. More often than not, we have seen Harry barefoot. He told us that he is afraid of contracting malaria while doing yard work during the rainy season, and that is why he needed the boots. Harry believed that malaria is contracted by getting wet or sweating while working in the field.

Before moving to Malawi, we did a lot of research that would help us teach the women in the rural villages how to keep their families healthier. We had learned that there are several common misunderstandings about malaria, and what Harry was expressing was one of them. Another common misunderstanding, as strange as it may seem, is that eating mangos can cause malaria.

Harry and thousands of others in the rural villages around Zomba need to be taught what causes malaria and steps that can be taken to prevent it. People certainly cannot make wise choices or act responsibly without this knowledge.

For example, we have been to many wells with stagnant, dirty water pooled around them. When we repair wells, we always share with the people the importance of digging a soak pit to collect the runoff.

A gravel filled soak pit at the end of a well runoff channel or where a woman washes dishes keeps water from collecting and stagnating and becoming a place where mosquitoes breed. Dealing properly with runoff is a simple way the people in the village can cut down the cases of malaria.

The training we offer is one of the tools God has given us to care for the needs of the people of rural Malawi and helps to save lives. That is one of the reasons we are here.

Nsima and Goombi

There are two foods that are very popular here in Malawi, and I have already tried one of them. It is called nsima. It is basically made with flour and water, made into a thick paste. Curried chicken and nsima is often served in restaurants or for a special meal in some homes.

To eat it, tear off a piece of nsima, break off a piece of chicken, roll it around in your fingers with the nsima, then dip it up to your nuckles in the curry sauce. Put the whole thing in your mouth up to your nuckles, then lick your fingers.

The second food I have not tried, but it is very popular. It is called goombi, which is roasted mayflies. Mayflies are easy to catch after a rain because they fall down into puddles. Today in the Zomba market, there were many vendors selling bowls of goombi, roasted golden brown, but they can be eaten raw.

Last night we watched two men in the light of a street lamp jumping up and down grabbing goombi and stuffing them into a bag. They planned to take them home for dinner. To prepare goombi, catch them and pull off their wings. Roast them in a little oil in the bottom of a pan over a fire.

Like I said, I have eaten nsima and managed well, but at some point in time, I will be asked to try goombi, If I am offered some, it would be inhospitable not to try it.

Mambo Primary School

We started off toward Mambo Primary School on a paved two lane road, but after a turn off the main road, we were on dirt roads for more than 45 minutes. Then we came to a man on a bicycle with his little boy seated on the back. This was, as it turned out, the Headmaster of the school. He led us off the dirt road and onto a very rough bicycle and pedestrian trail. We bumped along in our little Mazda where there was no road. Eventually we came around a bend, and there was the school.

How had this remote village heard about us? Because we had put a roof on Sakata Primary School and built boys and girls latrines, the word spread to Mambo Village, whose Traditional Authority called Pastor Williex, and asked him if we could help Mambo with rolls of plastic for their roofs. We learned that students were not able to attend school on rainy days.

We learned that the parents, with no help from the government, planned, organized, and built this school for their children. The classroom buildings were made entirely of grass mats and bamboo. Parents also built an office for the headmaster. His bicycle was parked inside. The school has grades 1-4, with grades 1 and 2 containing about 175 students each and the upper grades each containing about 80 students.
We learned that no one here draws a salary. It is all volunteer work. Before the school was built their children had to walk 7km to the nearest government school.

When we arrived, we were invited to a school board meeting attended by the Traditional Authority (head chief over many villages) and the Chief of Mambo and their wives, the headmaster of this school, the teachers, half a dozen members of the parent organization, and 12 or more youth volunteers (members of a local soccer league). We were honored guests who sat on wooden benches near the chief and his wife. The meeting began in prayer. There were reports from each party who works in any capacity in the school, and minutes of the meeting were kept. Unlike school board meetings I have attended, this one contained prayers, singing and dancing. The women, including the Chief's wife, sang a traditional song and danced. Then the young men performed a dance as well.

During the process of the meeting, the Traditional Authority told us that they want to do more for their children. He said that the soil in the village is sandy, which obviously is not good for making bricks. He told us that if we would supply the bricks to build their children a school the village would provide the labor to build it. He also said if we would help him with these building materials, he would provide land and give us his favor to build a church for Sure Foundation Ministry there in the village.(There is a mosque a few km away, but there is no Christian church in Mambo.)

The Chief told us that many children in the village suffer from poor water. Their present source for water is Lake Chilwa. He asked if we would give his village a well.

When we were called upon, we stepped forward to the center of the room to speak. In the presence of all these dignitaries we expressed our thanks for the invitation to come. We told them how honored we were to be there and how impressed we were with all they had accomplished without any outside assistance. We told them we shared their interest in keeping their children in school and respected their desire to give them a quality education. George read Jeremiah 17:6-8. He asked that the school board not look to us, but look to God himself for their provision. We promised to pray and asked them to pray and see what God will do.

Then the village Chief and the Headmaster stepped forward and George presented to them the requested rolls of black plastic for the school's roofing, which cost us a total of $42.

Relieving the Women

In Malawi, with their backs turned toward you, men will relieve themselves almost anywhere in public, leaned against a wall or tree, even in an alley in downtown Zomba. I have to admit it is a little shocking to Western sensibilities at first, but it bothers me more because of what I understand about the spread of germs. One of the reasons I am here is to make knowledge about sanitation and hygiene available in the rural villages where we work.

But let's not focus only on the ease with which men relieve themselves. Consider the difficulty rural women have performing one of the most basic of body functions, relieving themslves. Many women limit their intake of fluids so they will not have to go or wait until dark, because if they should go into the field to relieve themselves during daylight, the men will laugh. This puts women at risk of predators, both human and animals.

On her best days, the life of a woman in a rural village is difficult. Her work besides cooking, cleaning, and caring for her children, includes collecting water and firewood, labor intenseive tasks that can consume several hours of her day. A 45 minute car ride into a village for us becomes hours of walking for a woman who wants to take her produce out of her village to a market along a paved road.

Traffic in and out of the villages is over 99% on foot or bicycle, and there are no rest stops, gas stations, or convenience stores along the way. A woman will typically wait until it is unbearable before she will relieve herself. A few days ago along a main road, I saw a woman stand over a ditch, legs apart, and urinate.

This women's need is not a priority in a culture where women are almost a subclass and traditionally bow to their husbands when they enter a room where he is seated. When I teach sanitation and hygiene to the women in the rural villages, I tell them that having good sanitation can keep their families healthier, something the women are very interested in. I encourage them to pool their resources and work together to help one another build latrines near their homes. I have read about villages in India where the women did this with great success.

We have visited several churches in rural villages since we have been here and most of them have no place for the women to relieve themselves. We have much work to do.

This may seem a small thing when you consider the fact that the disparity begins early in life. Girls are not afforded the same opportunities to get an education as the boys, and because this is true, women do not have the same economic opportunities as the men throughout their entire lives.

For the sake of the Gospel, pray for our success as we work to reach the women and minister to their needs in a male-dominated culture.

Storm Damage

We heard a loud crash outside our house around 3 am. Although we were jolted awake and wondered what it could be, we were not concerned enough to go outside to check! We both thought it could wait until daylight. As it turned out, the high winds and torrential downpour during the night pulled part of our already-loose guttering from the front of the house. How were we to put the guttering on? Because we have 12 ft ceilings, we need an 8 ft ladder to change all of our burned out lightbulbs and had looked all over Zomba for one. Everyone told us to go to Blantyre.

When Harry, our gardener, saw the storm damage, he ran home to get his ladder. Great! Harry has a ladder. When he returned it was with a ladder he had made from long thin poles he had cut from the forest with shorter cross pieces tied on. He leaned the ladder against the house and pulled out an old rag. He tore this into strips, which he used to tie the guttering back on the house. Resourceful.

Meeting Mosh and the Little Blue Mazda

After we had looked for days in odd places (including the scratch and dent back lot of a junk yard!), I am not even sure how we learned that he had a car for sale, except we have been praying. Williex introduced us to him, an India man, Mosh, who owns a little hardware store downtown Zomba. He sells mostly rolls of tin roofing and bags of cement. He is young, personable, flashes a bright smile,

and dresses in rather western syle clothes. He explained that his business is growing and he wants to sell his little Mazda and purchase a pickup.

After some price wrangling, engine-checking and tire-kicking, Williex's mechanic friend drove us up the mountain to see if the little car could pass the test. The engine is good. It passed! we settled on a price. Now to complete the transaction. We met in the police guarded gated back lot of a bank, ringed by tall fences and barbed wire.

The deal was done, and we are excited to be mobile. We learned that the Malawi government honors our US driver's license. After 90 days, we will apply for our national license. What a blessing this little car will be to our ministry here.

The Fourth Blackout of the Day

The city of Zomba usually twinkling in the distance below us is dark tonight. We are in the fourth blackout of the day. Only 1% of rural Malawi and 37% of urban Malawi are even on the electric grid. The city has a power outage typically once a day when everyone is returning home from work and turning on the light switch.

On weekends, there is more demand, which explains why we are on our 4th blackout of the day. Very happy to say our solar lantern has been charging, and we will have light tonight. Most of our neighbors don't have that option.

Chengo, Chengo Moto

This morning, I woke to the echoing sound of blade against tree. My heart always sinks at that sound. Out my window on a nearby hillside just a few hundred feet away I see several women with little babies strapped to their backs, chopping the brush with machetes and gathering firewood. Each of their tiny one or two room houses has an outdoor kitchen with black smoke stains around the open door. 

 I think of my neighbor squatting near a three stone cooking fire in a smoke filled room cooking dinner, she and her baby breathing in respiratory disease. (You may not know that respiratory disease is a considerably bigger killer than AIDS/HIV or malaria in sub- Saharan Africa.)

I have read enough to know Malawi is being deforested at an alarming rate; faster than almost any other African nation. Do I care about the forest? Of course I do. But, much more than that, I think of the women who can't make choices about the environment because they are busy surviving. In the West, we may choose to recycle and feel good that we are contributing something to the preservation of the environment. Here it's not paper or plastic, it is life and death.

I have it in my heart to teach the women to make the Chengo, Chengo Moto cooking stoves, which in Chichewa means "Quick, Quick Fire." With only 26 bricks and mud mortar, a two burner, clean-burning, fuel-efficient cook stove can be built. A woman using this stove can cut her fuel consumption from three large bundles of wood each week to one.

None of this sounds very spiritual, does it? But it is related to the Gospel. Any time we lighten the load of the women and lift the heavy burden from off their shoulders we represent God's love to them. When people know they are loved and the love we offer comes from God, they open their hearts to receive the Gospel. And that is why we are here.

Sent to Love the People

God sent us to love the people of Malawi. What would that look like in deep rural poverty? It is so amazing how God prepared us for this. He taught us about entrepreneurship and sustainability.There is great need everywhere. Where should we aim our resources? Here He also prepared us: we are to start by blessing the household of faith, God's people whose children go to bed hungry. Thank God for the wisdom He gives. George and I woke this morning with the same understanding and clarification of implementing what He has given us.

Today, we go out to Sakata School for a thank you and official welcome from the school board, teachers, and students. Their gratitude is for the boys and girls latrines Sure Foundation Ministry built this past summer. To God be all the glory.

Early Meeting with Pastors

We had our first meeting with  pastors. We learned that we are "famous". News has spread to chiefs in villages near and far as well as schools and clinics. We were told that even the children in Zomba primary school heard of our coming.

It is humbling the great expectations the people have of our ability to help and the great need. We learned that many people are going hungry because their last crop failed from lack of rain. We were presented many, many requests for assistance.

We understand that we cannot possibly meet every need, so we must rely on God. Pray He gives us wisdom as we sort out the requests and seek to stay true to the call of God on our lives.

Chilanga Baptist Church

The people of Chilanga Baptist Church where George preached on Sunday. He taught about the importance of encouraging one another in difficult times. I have never heard more beautiful worship.

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Sakata Primary School

Today, we visited Sakata Primary which goes through 8th grade. This is the school where  about a year ago we built student latrines and put a roof on. As we entered the dusty school grounds, we were suddenly surrounded by eager faces looking up at us. They had run from all over the dusty playfield to greet us. After the small riot I had caused, students were regrouped and I was introduced to the form 2 teacher, a nice young gentleman wearing dress pants, a white shirt, and a necktie. All of the teachers in the school as well as the principal were smartly dressed. Many students were wearing too-long-used uniforms, blue dresses with yellow collars.

I visited a form 2, a class of 120 students, all sitting attentively on the dirt floor of a small cinderblock room that opens to the outdoors. I say outdoors, but there is actually no door on the classroom. In one corner of the building was a small table and chair for the teacher. Every classroom in the school of around 1000 students is very similar.

Their teacher was eager for me to address the class. Looking in their eager faces brought out the teacher in me, and I took the opportunity to encourage them to stay in school, to get all the education they can get because that will help them succeed in their futures.

I also told them that God knows them by name and that He loves them. I told them that God hears prayers, and although we may not know how He will do it, He has a good plan for their lives.
 

A form 8 student representing the group of five other boys in his class had a special request. In his best English he asked if we could provide them several footballs, which in the US are soccer balls. He explained that he and his friends have special talent in the sport and would like to develop it.

George told him we will pray and ask God to provide footballs for them. He asked them to pray also. We are getting so many requests, real needs. We cannot be the answer. Putting our hope in God is the answer. The students will know when the provision is met that the God we serve deserves the credit.
 

 It was a privilege to share with the students.

Prince

We still need a bed so, we started asking where to find someone who could make us one. We were pointed to the shop of a carpenter named Prince whose display of coffins along the roadside a few miles out of town advertise the quality of his work.

 

He and his employees use simple hand tools to produce quality furniture. When we asked him if he could make a bed for us with a headboard and two matching endtables, each with a drawer on top and a bookcase on the bottom, he proudly said, Of course, I am a master carpenter. We pick it up on Monday.

We don't have a dining table either, so Prince gets our business. He is making a table for us that will seat 10 people, 10 ft long and 4 ft wide. This will accommodate the short-term teams of volunteers who will be coming to assist us with our work in the villages.

We Have a Geezer

Did you know we have a geezer? You may have a geezer and not know it. I didn't know I needed one till I got here. Locally, that is what a water heater is called. I was getting used to cold showers, but last night we had warm showers. You would not believe how delicious a warm shower feels after a dusty day in the villages

Purchasing the Little Blue Mazda

After we had looked for days in odd places (including the scratch and dent back lot of a junk yard!), I am not even sure how we learned that he had a car for sale, except we have been praying. Williex introduced us to him, an Indian man, Mosh, who owns a little hardware store downtown Zomba.

 

He sells mostly rolls of tin roofing and bags of cement. He is young, personable, flashes a bright smile, and dresses in rather western syle clothes. He explained that his business is growing and he wants to sell his little Mazda and purchase a pickup.

 

After some price wrangling, engine-checking and tire-kicking, Williex's mechanic friend drove us up the mountain to see if the little car could pass the test. The engine is good. It passed! We settled on a price. 

 

Now to complete the transaction. We met in the police guarded gated back lot of a bank, ringed by tall fences and barbed wire. The deal was done, and we are excited to be mobile. We learned that the Malawi government honors our US driver's license. After 90 days, we will apply for our national license. What a blessing this little car will be to our ministry here.

You're Not in Kansas, Dorothy

We are 5,500 ft above sea level, and there is abundance of wildlife here. We wake up to the calls of songbirds, and we have often heard what we thought to be the sound of monkeys. But this afternoon, a troop of monkeys passed through our compound. At first we saw a female and her baby. She was sitting on the wall picking and eating peaches from a tree whose branches overhung the wall. a little later we saw three others, one larger (the male, I assume) and other females. They were shy, but they let us approach at a respectable distance and take pictures.

The Gravel Maker

This part of Malawi has many tall mountains and the landscape of the Rift Valley is strewn with weather worn rocks. Our driveway is made of cobblestones, probably taken from a wide riverbed a few kilometers down the mountain from us. Over time it has deteriorated, so now there are large pits that jolt our tires and fill with mud when it rains. Where does one find gravel in Zomba?

 Just a few kilometers out of town, along the roadside near a large outcropping of rocks sits a gravel maker. He uses large rocks to break others into smaller and smaller pieces. Around him are mounds of various sizes of gravel, neatly piled.

Most people in Malawi reuse and recycle, not out of any concern for the environment but because that is what is necessary.  In the market, you will see old bicycle inner tubes cut into long strips draped over a pole. These will be used for tie downs for strapping loads on the backs of bicycles. (I saw a man yesterday with a load of lumber and a large wooden door strapped to his bicycle.)

Then today I saw a man carrying what used to be a 50 gallon drum on his head. It had gaping holes and was a thin spider web of rust in many places.  This was not trash. He will use every usable part, beating it into spoons, bowls, or pots which he can sell in the market.

Deep poverty forces people to be resourceful, to make use of almost nothing to make something.

Rainy Season is Cholera Season

This year's corn and rice crops have just been planted, and food is scarce. Many people go out into the bush and along roadsides to forage for food, cutting greens and diging tubers. Because of the lack of basic sanitation this puts many people at risk of getting cholera. Let me explain. There are no public restrooms in or around Zomba. In fact on the road trip to Blantyre, 40km away, there are no public restrooms, and many of the villages do not even have latrines. In rainy season, the waste that is runoff from fields contaminates the vegetation and water sources and causes cholera.

This past Saturday we were supposed to go inspect five additional broken wells, however the torrential rains from Wednesday through Friday prevented us from going. We're hoping that we'll be able to get out there this morning, and placing them on the schedule to restore very soon.  Again, this is cholera season, and when people don't have a clean water source, they'll get it wherever they can, which very often will be a dirty river or lake, or in utter desperation, a filthy mud hole.

The Devaluing of the Kwacha

For many years, the Malawi Kwacha's value was linked artificially to the US dollar. This made Malawi unattractive as a trading partner with most nations of the world because it did not reflect the true state of the economy.

When President Bingu Mutherika died and a new president came into power in April 2012, President Joyce Banda, one of the initiatives she took was to devalue the Kwacha. It was like a bitter medicine to cure a sick economy. 

Malawi's currency is now worth less than half of what it was when I first came here over two years ago.  The positive side of this is there is more foreign currency because it has opened up foreign trade a bit. The negative side is most people don't make any more money than they did then and the cost of goods and services have not decreased. We pray for God's abundant wisdom as we work toward helping our friends redefine wealth to fit an African model.

Africa has much untapped wealth, not the least of which is the optimism, and industriousness of its beautiful people. Thank you Lord Jesus for the things you have already taught us!

Thanksgiving Day at Mambo School

We just had the MOST AMAZING Thanksgiving Day of our lives! It began with a ten kilometer drive up to pick up two local pastors at their homes near Songani Market, and then a forty minute drive down bumpy dirt roads and paths to the amazing story of the Mambo Primary School.

It seems this group of nearly 300 First through Fourth Graders were having to walk nearly fifteen kilometers each way to a distant ill-equipped government school, often with empty bellies. Their parents, and a group of volunteer teachers and administrators built this four building school complex out of bamboo and straw.

 As we went from class to class, we were greeted warmly, and very respectfully by both students and teachers. The students were cleaner, and better dressed than what we've seen at other schools. They also appeared to be much more enthusiastic to learn as they sat in compacted rows on neatly swept dirt floors. The largest group, in one of the lower grade classes, had 145 students.

We learned of the school several days ago, and their simple need of some plastic sheeting to keep the rains from coming in the roof, so that school could go uninterrupted on rainy days. After an hour long meeting with two chiefs, the school board, the volunteer headmaster and teachers, which included lots of friendly greeting, prayer, handshakes, singing and dancing, Phyllis and I were able to present to them three 100 meter rolls of plastic for the roofs. There were twelve members of a local league soccer team there volunteering to put the plastic on.

The head chief, whose official title is Traditional Authority, invited us to begin a church right there; I had already spied out the very large shade tree we had parked under for our first Sunday meeting. Since our arrival we've been discussing with these pastors several Bible school graduate candidates to begin pastoring new churches as soon as we can get them some support, Bibles and song books. This one is ready to launch almost immediately.

 After a visit to another school where we had repaired the well fifteen months ago, we journeyed back to drop the pastors off,and went back to Zomba for what may become our Thanksgiving tradition at Tasty Bites, one of the very few restaurants in town. We each had a half chicken and fries, a couple Cokes and an ice cream bar. We then returned home to our eleventh blackout since last Saturday, our computer battery completely dead, showers and bed by candlelight. That is why I am up writing this in the middle of the night.

 God bless you all richly!!!!! We all have so much for which to be thankful!

The Rice Mill

Yesterday morning, prior to heading out for the day, I walked behind the rice mill where a few months ago lay a mountain of rice hulls, which obviously need to be removed for the rice to be edible. But mixed right in were the rice germ, both layers of bran, and the essential oils, all stripped away in the production of non-nutritional, empty, starchy, glistening white rice.

Puzzled, I asked Williex where that mountain had disappeared to, and he answered that it is sold as animal feed. I felt both sad, and sickened as my mind processed the realization that the animals eat better than the people. How many reports and studies on malnutrition would it take for pointy-headed bureaucrats at these extremely high budgeted organizations to see the nutritional powerhouse right under their noses?

 I am more determined than ever to raise the necessary funds to invest in rice hullers, so that the people can go back to the brown rice, as they had before the West got there. Besides the overwhelming nutritional benefits of brown rice, when you hull rice, instead of milling it, you yield another approximately 17% by both weight and volume, without having to grow any additional rice. That's a lot more full bellies, as well as healthier people.

 

We need about $2,500 to get two hand operated high yield rice hullers from India, including shipping, and set-up. A generous donor has already designated about 40% of that, and we're trusting the Lord, and some kind-hearted people for the balance. The other great benefit is that this project will also provide sorely needed income to a number of women in the churches we minister in.

What's it Like Living in Zomba?

I called to Phyllis from our bedroom, (well it will be once we get our standard US sized queen mattress delivered, and our curtains which were modified yesterday to fit Malawi style curtain rods hung), (oh, and I almost forgot the custom mosquito net). She was sitting in the dining room, which now serves as our office, because the office furniture hasn't even been designed yet, although we kind of know what we want. You see, the dining room serves as a good location being that the dining room set is still a week away from being completed. We moved the temporary office from the living room after the last light bulb there burned out, and I'm waiting on Mosh, the hardware store owner to get back with me about the price of an eight foot ladder, (he'll have to get that delivered all the way from Blantyre, 40 kilometers away because there are no eight foot ladders in Zomba), which is needed to change all the bulbs on the wall sconces ten feet up the walls, both there and in the future dining room, which thankfully has two of the bulbs still working. We right now have been able to find two of the sixteen bulbs needed for the fixtures in both rooms at the local market, which has an ingeneous inventory and retrieval method. The first mini-hardware guy you ask, who inevitably won't have what it is you want, leaves his tiny shop totally unmanned, with you feeling somewhat obligated to perform guard duty until he returns with what may or more likely may not be what you were looking for. He'll offer it at a price you know is way too high, and you need to bargain him down. Had you only found the one who had it on your first try, you'd be getting it offered at half the price of your new-found broker/best friend. The reason we're home today is because the wells we were going to inspect will have to wait until Monday, because the dirt roads had turned to thick mud from Wednesday and Thursday's desperately needed torrential downpours. We only want to make one trip to town, (we're in the midst of our second major fuel shortage since we arrived a little over a month ago, [these can last up to a week, without a drop of petrol anywhere in town]), and that will be when Abel calls to let us know our laundry is done. He hand washes and line dries everything, and irons the shirts and tops to perfection using an iron he heats over a charcoal fire.
However I digress.
The reason I called Phyllis to begin with, was that I had spied a pair of the most exotically beautiful birds I have ever seen in my life. They are larger than a raven, crowned like an oriole, long-necked like a pheasant, and jet black; that is until they flit from one tree to another and then back. The entire underside, and the flared out tops of the feathers of their wings turn the most intense crimson red. At just the right angle, the tail feathers turn an irridescent deep, rich, purple/blue. When they turn their heads just a certain way, the black head becomes a mixture of black, and several shades of deep green. They are obviously a loyally mated pair, and will always go everywhere together. We had no idea that when the Lord called us to come work among the poorest of the poor in southern Malawi, that He would be placing us together in a beautiful mountain paradise, and able to share all of life's richness, both here and in the reality of a beautifully rhythmic, yet very harsh life below. We are together; we are home!

 

The Zomba Market

George and I are learning to wheel and deal in the markets. George is much better at dealing than I am. One person may have avocados and lemons and a nearby table may have tomatoes, carrots, and zucchini. Produce is inexpensive. That's good because our diet consists mostly of beans, rice, and lots of fresh fruits and vegetables. Down a little ways are colorful spices piled neatly in mounds on a sheet of burlap. We have not yet purchased from the spice stands. 

 

 

George, the Romantic

After breakfast and before the start of a busy day, George, the romantic, suggested we go outside and walk around the compound, enjoying each other's company and the beauty of nature. Harry, who tends the property, keeps everything so beautiful. There are many blooming trees and shrubs.

Nice day, overcast sky, good day for a walk. We were well on our way when it began to rain, so we hurried to the front porch to wait it out. About the time our feet touched down, the clouds dropped their load and the rain poured and poured and poured. So, for maybe 15 minutes, our pace slowed and we just spent time together enjoying each other and the rain.

The Ox in a Ditch

We were almost to Songani Market, driving along in our new (first time to church) little blue Mazda. George and I were going to Domasi Church where George was to preach and I was to give a word of encourgement the people. This was our first visit to Williex's church since we have been living in Malawi. So, as we approached Songani, along the roadside I could see a crowd gathering and looking at something a little way off the shoulder of the road. As we neared, I could see an oxcart wheel had come off and the cart, ox, driver, and all had fallen over the steep crumbling shoulder of the road and tumbled into a deep ditch. There the driver was, Sunday morning, and his ox in a ditch. 

The Call to Prayer

Five times a day the call to prayer goes out from the dome atop the mosque in Zomba. It is a little hard to ignore. There are twelve speakers, pointing in all directions from the heart of the city. The first one goes out at 4:30 am, then throughout the day, as far as 5 miles away, that sound is heard. 
It is not a joyful sound, but a little off key and kind of sad. 

Sometimes we are occupied and deep in conversation and don't hear it, but that sound is the cue for George and me to begin to praise Jesus and worship Him. All hail, King Jesus, All hail Emmanuel, King of kings, Lord of lords, Bright Morning Star, and through all eternity, I'm going to praise Him, and forever more, I will worship Him!

The Little Blue Mazda

Before we came, we prayed for God to give us the a reliable car when we got ot Malawi. First, we searched in Blantyre, 40km away. Here's our little blue Mazda Familia. No frills, but since gasoline costs $7.43 per gallon, and there are frequent fuel shortages and long gas lines, this little car is very practical. By the way, this is the razor wire ringed back lot of the bank where the transaction took place in downtown Zomba.

The Carpenter of Matawele

This is the carpenter's shop along the main road just outside Matawele.The shop owner does excellent work. We asked him if he could make a wicker lampshade. He anwered, "That's no problem."  Then  he showed us photos of his product line, including sofas, chairs, beds, end tables, wardrobes, sectionals, lamps, and coffee tables. We commissioned him to make a beautiful set of wicker livingroom furniture. Of all our alternatives for furnishing our livingroom, wicker is the least expensive

Collecting Firewood on Zomba Mountain

Women from villages surrounding Zomba spend hours each day walking for miles to collect firewood from the top of the mountain. Here a group of women are making the journey back down the mountain with heavy bundles of firewood on their heads. Cutting firewood from the mountain is illegal, so if they see a camera, they will dart into the forest or off the road, down the steep mountainside. If they only knew how for them I am, they would stop to talk with me.

Chilanga Baptist Church

These are the people of Chilanga Baptist Church,  where George preached on Sunday. He taught about the importance of encouraging one another in difficult times.  I loved the rich harmonies, and I have never heard more beautiful worship. 

This is a growing church. As you can see, this church has built an addition, but they lack the metal for roofing. We told them we would pray and ask God to provide the $100 needed to complete the building.

Mambo Primary School

Mambo Primary School is no less than amazing. Because the nearest public school was 7.5km away, these parents and community volunteers built their children a school . It was made entirely of grass mats and bamboo by parents and community leaders with no outside help. Also, the school is staffed unsalaried entirely by parent and other community volunteers. Sure Foundation Ministry donated the requested rolls of plastic to protect the classrooms on rainy days. This donation cost a total of $42.









 I asked my friend what they were singing, and he told me they were singing, "Little hare, I know you think you are hidden in the field, but hop up and let us see you." At that, the children rose to their feet and hopped in place about four times. It was so cute.

Santa in Zomba

I found Santa in Zomba in front of a mattress shop owned by a Muslim man.

I just think the sign is funny and seems a little out of place. There are many very nice Muslim shopkeepers in Zomba, including the lady with the beautiful smile who owns the fabric store where we found our curtain material and the hardware store owner who sold us our mattress and pillows. Then, of course, there's Mosh, who sold us our little blue Mazda.

Chillungamo Church

Today we were at Chillungamo, welcomed with singing and dancing. In this brick framed church with a grass roof and cement benches, George preached a sermon on grace. Saving grace brings us into relationship with God. Sustaining grace keeps us. Then there is grace that assures us of His peace and presence in difficult times.

We were so honored that the women of the church had prepared a meal for us, a bowl of rice and a hard boiled egg for each of us cooked in a sauce made of tomatoes and onions. They waited outside in the shade of a tree while we ate. What a rich gift from our new friends at Chillungamo, a very poor congregation.

How does one compassionately address the deep poverty that is everywhere in the rural villages? The best solutions are always those that give people the dignity of providing for their own needs whenever that is possible. Pray for the success of the entreprenural projects.

Just Passing Through

For those who know us, this journey to Malawi started long before the flight here. Back in the US, we had spent months dispensing our property and packing a shipping container full tools for our ministry here as well as many personal items. The ones we wanted to open first were for the kitchen.

When we moved to Malawi, we only had one small cooking pot and a few cheap eating utensils we had found at the market. Although we could function, we could hardly wait for our kitchen to be properly furnished. A few days ago, our shipment from America arrived! It contained all of our Wolfgang Puck cookware, spices, our dishes, eating utensils, and some staple foods, such as beans and rice.

So, George and I were busy organizing the kitchen. As I stood up from lifting some utensils from a box at my feet,  my eyes caught a streak of movement outside. It was a young baboon strolling past our kitchen window. I took a dive for my camera, but he didn't stop to pose.

Tropical Storm on the Mountain

The rumbling sky echoes off the craggy mountain face behind me, and a cool breeze begins to stir the forest canopy below. I smell rain! Massive trees creak and leaves whisper as the wind swells. Then suddenly, all one can hear is the roar of the rain, pouring in sheets and torrents. There is nothing like a tropical storm on the mountain.

Chichewa Lessons

George and I came to Malawi knowing a few Chichewa words and phrases: How are you? I am fine. Although we probably will never be able to preach or teach in the language, we understand that it is important and shows respect for the culture for us to make the effort to learn.

Shopkeepers and minibus drivers, around Zomba have good English skills, enough to carry on converations and commerce with English speakers, and many others have some rudimentary English. So generally, we could function around the city of Zomba, but the challenge comes when we are shopping in the open markets.

I believe that you can find almost anything in the open market, including a motherboard for a computer (I have seen one there.), if you only know how to ask. In the maze of tiny shops of the market we recently we were asking a shopkeeper somewhere for curtain hangers. Overhearing the conversation, and seeing me gesture hanging curtains over a window, a few of the nearby shopkeepers gathered around, trying to piece together among themselves what we were asking for. I like that about Malawi. Everyone wants to be helpful. Eventually, we found what we were led to the shop with the hangers.

So, it is important to work on our ability to speak Chichewa because it will help us to be able to function more independently in our day to day life, but it will also show a respect for the people and their culture.

George and I have started Chichewa lessons . Our friend Noel, a young minister of the Gospel and evangelist who works with Sure Foundation here has promised to give us a little lesson each day. Before you know it, we'll be greeting everyone in the market, "Muli bwanji."

Weddings and Funerals

Weddings and funerals are big events in Malawian culture. The poorest of the poor are compelled by tradition to give, even to the point of borrowing money to do so, in order to attend. Our neighbor, Harry, was to attend a family funeral in Mzuzu, which is in the far north of Malawi, 582 km from Zomba. He does not own a car. Not even a bicycle. He left his wife and five children here and rode a

series of minibuses to get there.

 

He was gone for three days, and when he returned today, it was in the middle of a huge tropical downpour. He came over to tell us he had returned and was ready to work, but he also told us his family was hungry. Instead of holding a sign on a street corner, he began to work in our garden. George and I didn't have to wonder or pray about what Jesus would do. Harry is our friend.

 

Harry inspires me. The experience I described moved me deeply and got to the core of how I relate to the deep poverty here. There is dignity in work, none in patronizing handouts from the West. This is what has been happening in Africa for the past 50 years, and over that course of time, it has only gotten worse. Did you know that in 1960 Africa fed itself? 

Our work here is not the solution to all the poverty we see here, but as we build relationships, what we offer that addresses poverty are knowledge of Biblical principles and entreprenural opportunity. For those who will receive it, the quality of their lives will improve.

On the back of the truck that delivered our household items was stensiled in bold letters these words NO FOOD FOR THE LAZY MAN, an underlying theme of the culture. There are beggers who sit outside of some shops, but they are fragile old people and people with extreme disabilities.