IT IS TUESDAY

September 10^th 2013

 

It is time for me to continue my online diary.  If I go for more than two days things are already beginning to get foggy in my memory as my whole sensory organisms are constantly being over whelmed.  I remember on my study tour of Israel visiting site after site and then becoming so tired that all I wanted to do was just stay on the bus and rest.  I just could not absorb another Biblical site.  Someone with the group had completed a historical tour of Europe and he called it the, “castle complex.”  You had seen so many castles that you did not want to see another one at least on that date.  Every day is so different; there is nothing familiar and my senses can only take so much and then I just want to withdraw.

What happened on Monday?

If you have been following my blog then you know that when I arrived Didier’s car was in such bad shape that he had to have a friend bring him to the airport.  He managed to get the car going and to keep it going, but I was never sure that when we left that we would make it home.   Monday was the day dedicated to having the car worked on. 

Didier and Annie dropped me off at the most expensive hotel in Lubumbashi, probably at about 10:00 am.  He was going to take the car to the shop and Annie would do some shopping for food. He told me that he might be as late as 1:30 before he would be back to get me.  That was fine with me as I would be very comfortable in the lobby of The Grand Karvia (sp).  I had previously purchased a block of internet time and still had plenty of unused time so I would access the internet and drink a cup of coffee and just wait.  I had some Cliff Bars so I was not worried about food. 

Before long my computer battery was depleted.  Remember the rest of world operates on 240 volts and my tablet on 120 volts so I could not just plug it in and recharge it as I needed a step down converter which would take the 240 and convert it to 120.  Fortunately I had a theological book written by one of my favorite authors to pore over, but even that can go for only so long. 

I found myself continually checking my watch and looking out the door after 2:00 pm.  I had finished my lone bottle of water and needed another.  Yes, I finally gave in and bought a three dollar bottle of water. I ordered the bottle from a coffee bar assuming that it would be in the frig behind the bar.  The man had to go downstairs to get the water.  As he was departing I gave him a five dollar bill.  In his absence I realized that there were lots of people standing around in the hotel lobby doing nothing.  He was one of those who seemed to serve little earthly purpose, but was patiently there in case of being needed. It struck me he was dressed in his shiny black official looking clothing hoping to do something which would bring him a tip.  The price of my bottle of water went from three dollars to five. 

It Was About Five PM

 

Two men approached me and inquired if I knew Pastor Didier.  They explained in their best broken English that they had been sent to take me home.  This did not make me comfortable, as a child I had read the book, Arabian Nights, in this book the way I remembered it someone was always being kidnapped.  I did not hear an audible voice, but had a sense of being directed to “go with them asking no questions.”  As we departed the parking lot the first thing they did was turn the wrong direction.  I knew the way back to the mission and they were heading the opposite way.  They drove about one block and purchased some fuel and then we headed home. What a relief.  They delivered me to the door and to express my gratitude, I gave them a pound of beef jerky.  I can remember few times when I was happier to arrive at my stated destination. That is enough for one evening.  I hope to write more in the AM.  And get this in the mail tomorrow.  By the way I preach tomorrow, Thursday and again on Sunday. Oh and yes, Didier got home some time after 8:00 pm.

Wednesday Morning

 

I was up about 5:45, breakfast was a banana, slice of bread with peanut butter.  Before six am the community is busy, water is being moved to Didier’s house.  Women are at the well drawing water as they do 365 days a year.  Clothing is being washed.  At about 6:45 hot water is delivered to me from Didier’s house by one of his daughters so I can make my coffee.  Via—Starbucks instant coffee—is my mainstay.  With brown sugar and then some milk from the local store; milk which does not spoil, should anyone consume anything which will not spoil?  Well it certainly does taste good and it brightens my morning.  I love sitting in the breezeway of the guest house and watch morning arrive while sipping my cup of coffee.

I go out with my Bible to read and to meditate and am driven back in by the cold.  I sit at the table with a light on and then the sun begins to shine through the dusty air and it is warm.  I can move back outside and smell the dust and the burning of trash.  To say that there is air pollution is a mild understatement.  Dusty air is a way of life here.  Reminds me of the dust bowls in the history of the Midwest where the sun was not seen clearly for days.

I put out my plastic container—about three gallons-- of water on the cement where solar heat will provide me with my shower water for this evening.  I always feel so rich when I get my warm shower.  It is so pleasant to dump water over you body, soap up and the rinse off the soap.

 

Back To Yesterday

 

Again we were off to Lubumbashi about ten o’clock.  Annie must do her shopping to keep thirty mouths from going hungry.  Didier and I are off to shop for a generator.  We must get a reliable source of electricity to the station so that Annie does not have to go to town and spend hours shopping daily.  We have a freezer but need a diesel powered generator.  We want to buy a diesel powered generator because Didier hauls the fuel to the mission station in his vehicle.  The roads during the dry season are about six inches of powdered dust.  The windows can be open allowing the gas fumes to escape until you meet another vehicle and then they must be closed.  At that point the van becomes an un-improvised explosive device or a rolling bomb.  I   do not want to think about what would happen if one spark were to be introduced into such an environment.

 

My Personal Agenda

 

I am shopping for two bicycles, a bike for Pastor Peter and a bike for Pastor Mickey.  They need them for personal transportation as they must travel by foot now.  Their efficiency will be greatly improved by the addition of bikes.  Bicycles can be described as the work horses of the poor.  They are used for public transportation.  I have seen three people—the father riding, the mother sitting side saddle behind her husband with a child on her lap--being moved on one bike.  You can use one to haul lumber or a half dozen bags of cement to a work site.  I have seen one being used to haul bricks.  Yes, bricks each one stacked on top of another with nothing to bind them together.  The ability to balance things is unbelievable among the Congolese people. When they are being used to haul things, they are not being ridden, but pushed.

 I think I have found the spot to purchase the bicycles.