Thank You!

Thank You!

I am always amazed when I get a Christmas letter in February or March: this is not a Christmas Letter. It is a simple thank you letter in which I hope to express my deepest gratitude to those who have helped support our mission to The Congo through prayer and finances. See: compassionforcongo.org.

A little history, in 2011 two Pastors and an Attorney, met in a pizza parlor and we formed what came to be known as Compassion For Congo.  All we had was a vision and willingness to sacrifice. Shortly thereafter I was appointed Vice President and knew that I had to make a trip to Africa to see the seeds of our Mission. I went to Africa for three weeks to teach Pastors and to strengthen the local church.  I was not disappointed.

In 2013 I spent seven weeks in The Congo during this time my computer died and so I gave up on blogging.  Later the computer was lost/stolen in the airport in Ethiopia.  I am back to my Blog saying:

Thank You From 

• Two of our Pastors (Mickey and Peter) who are in seminary because of your generosity. They repeatedly expressed their gratitude and wanted me to say "Thank you."  And they were thrilled to get bicycles.  Bikes are small trucks in The Congo.

• Approximately 300 people living in the bush who received medical care from our medical doctor. They also received vision care from five ophthalmologists who traveled with us.   Twenty seven people from the bush were transported to Lubumbashi to receive free cataract surgery.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                             The man standing is Dr. Alain MD and the man in the red shirt was our chief ophthalmologist. Yes, the little girl seated to the left of her mom was blinded by cataracts.  Numerous people received glasses and/or medicine.  

Our mission was deeded four acres of ground on which we hope to dig a well, build housing for our Congolese missionaries, establish a church and an orphanage.                                                                                                                                                                                                                           Maybe we can even send Dr. Alain and his bride to be into the bush to provide medical care for the approximately 26,000 people living in this war torn area.  The violence of war has swept through the area three times since 2011. The last time was about seven or eight months ago.  Most of the men were killed.  The women of the village first told us that there were over 600 orphans there and have now revised the estimate to over 1500. Ten of whom are now living in our orphanage in the Lubumbashi area.  For this I want to express my gratitude.

We now have three churches in the Lubumbashi area and the fourth will be in the bush approximately 400 kilometers north of Lubumbashi.  For this we are grateful.

We Are Still Dealing With:

1. Hunger and mal-nutrition 
2. Bad water 
3. An over crowded Orphanage
4. The need for a  new car to get Pastor Didier and a work crew into the bush
5. The building of a new structure for church number three
6. The ability to get orphans out of the country.

May I Say "Thank You" again. 

I can not get this software to format correctly.  I am sure the mistakes are mine. 

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. 

 

 

 

PASTOR DIDIER'S HEALTH

This is very important issue to me.

• Before I left the U. S. Pastor Paul admonished me to make sure that Pastor Didier ate good food and drank lots of water.
• Upon arrival I was very surprised at how thin he had become.
• He told me that he had lost 20 pounds since returning to The Congo.
• Before we went to the Mission, we traveled to the Jambo Market and purchased at least six gallons of water.
• Every place we go, he carries water.
• He eats meat, carbs, and green veggies daily since I have been here.  In the past he told me that he did not eat meat except when there were guests at the Mission.
• He does not appear to be any healthier.
• He is working very hard as well is Annie.

There is the possibility of European Medical Care

• His sister whom he has not seen in twenty years has sent him $700. to fly to Belgium.
• She has told him that she will be able to get him necessary medical care.
• The $700.00 will pay for half his fare there so he needs more money for the fare plus spending money while away from home.
• I presume that prescribed medicine will be on him.

 

SUNDAY

 

I Have Now Been Here One Full Week.

 

This is my first Sunday preaching assignment for this trip.  We are prepared to preach to and then to feed some 450 people.  This is the new norm for the church here which has more than doubled in size in the last two years.  Usually the church meets in three locations with three pastors on as given Sunday and then the church meets every third Sunday at the central location every third Sunday for Communion.  Today we meet for a combined Service.  I assume that it is because I am here as a guest.

 

The scheduled starting time was 10:00 am, but the singing started a 9:45.  Pastor Peter explained that we would start early so we would have more time to glorify God.  I did not try to keep up with the time, but I know that the singing went on for two hours or maybe more.  We had six choirs doing their best and they were nd very well appreciated as measured by the applause.  I preached for more than an hour, but keep in mind that a 20 minute sermon becomes a 60 minute sermon by the time it is translated twice once into French and then into Swahili.

 

After the Service was over then I had my picture taken so many times with so many people and in some cases holding their baby.  I thoroughly enjoyed it but was totally exhausted by the time people began to settle down with foo foo, beans and cassava greens.  The beans were flavored with fish.  We had planned on chicken but it was to expensive.

 

At the close of the Service Didier and I escaped to the guest house for our meal as we were both exhausted.  I believe that it was about 2:30 by the time we got to sit down for our meal. After that I rested but poor Didier had an errand to run and then ended up counselling with two couple who are planning forthcoming weddings. He came by to see me about 8:00 pm and was so tired that his skin tone was grey and his perpetual smile had been erased. We visited for a short time and then I urged him to go home and go to bed.   He did not need much encouragement. 

 

I went to bed and read for awhile with the aid of my flashlight.  I found out later on during the night that I have exhausted the batteries.  I hope I can find new ones today.

 

Didier’s van is in bad shape so it goes in for repairs today.  I will be dropped off for internet access while he is getting the repairs done and Annie is shopping.  Write more later.

 

 

Greetings From Lubumbashi

 

 

 

It is Sunday September one and I am on Ethiopian Airlines traveling so it seems half way around the world, actually the first leg of my flight will only be some seven thousand plus miles which will take me to Addis Abba, Ethiopia. But I am ahead of myself.

I was up and dressed by about 7 am, amazed that I had gotten a good nights sleep because usually I do sleep well before such a momentous event. My son in law took me to the airport and planned to see me off but the waiting time to get checked in and ticketed was about 90 minutes so had to go off to work.

I am traveling with four bags.  Much of the baggage relates to gifts and supplies for the orphans and the poor. It seems to me that shipping charges have been outrageous--$750.00. Does it make economic sense to send so much at such a price—probably not. But then I ask the question, does it make emotional sense?  My answer, is a resounding ‘yes’ because it is a concrete e expression of Christian love from one part of the family to another part.  I am remembering that the Apostle Paul went forth eager to remember the poor.  Like Paul I want to put a face on God’s love for the poor. So do a lot of others who sacrificed monetarily to send gifts of love to the church family in The Congo. Thank you, I cannot imagine what happiness is in that baggage.

Upon arriving on the plane, it seemed as if every baby (and there are many) was crying. Before we were aloft, they were quietened. Mothers should be declared to be an International Treasure.

We were more than an hour late getting off the tarmac, but that does not bother me as I have more than three hour to wait for my next flight in Ethiopia.  It did bother my stomach because it was around 2:00 pm by the time we were served lunch—mashed potatoes, green beans and carrots, beef and gravy, ravioli salad, bread, carrot cake and marvelous Ethiopian coffee.   Wonder why I like to fly Ethiopian Air?

 Ever notice that after lunch everyone on a plane has to make an excursion to the bathroom? On a large international flight such as this oft times the bathrooms turn into disaster areas. Went to the bathroom and on the   way out, I noted that there was soon going to a shortage of T-paper. Expedited the matter by stealing a small remnant. Ashamed no!

 

Current time is 7:10 pm, according to the video map which I am watching we are about half way or more across the Atlantic.

There is a group of 16 from a United Methodist Church in Texas on this plane headed to Ethiopia to do micro-finance--which is teaching small business--and helping in an orphanage. Hope to visit with them before the trip is over.

Monday September the 2^nd.

Arrived in Addis Ababa, we were unloaded on the tarmac and trucked into the airport.  I was exhausted on arrival as I probably did not get an hour of sleep during the flight.  Adrenalin was flowing, I was super-charged and was very nervous hoping that I would not miss my next flight which was on to Lubumbashi. 

Another four hours on the plane if I remember correctly. I would have preferred a beating.  We traveled about 3 hours and then set down in a place which started with the letter N.  We  were there for about an hour and then off for a 45 minute flight to Lubumbashi. 

Unloaded on the tarmac and then walked maybe ¼ of a mile into the airport.  Breezed through customs without a problem. Went outside looking for Didier.  But there was no Didier.  I am starting to get scared because I am trying to figure out what I would do, if he was sick or in an accident.  All of the incoming passengers have left the airport and I am in a sea of black faces.  Some of them want to help.  Questions are being asked of me.  I have no answers except to say that I am waiting for my ride.  Didier shows up all apologetic, the van is having clutch problems.  He had to get a friend to him to the airport. 

My luggage did not arrive with me.  No Cliff bars, no dried meat, no clean clothing and I have been traveling for two days.  We have gone  to the Jambo Market for bread, fruit, clean shirt and underwear.  Hopefully  things will come in on the next plane which is 2:00 pm today.  If I understand correctly a special plane will bring in the luggage. By the way that meant no Via, Starbucks instant coffe, for me this morning. 

I enjoyed a special meal of wild chicken, rice, fu fu, green beans, and  boiled potatoes with Didier and JP—the man who drove us.  JP is a Christian man who works with the Methodist here in Lubumbashi and is apparently self=employed also.  He gave me two of his company’s polo shirts.  How nice it was to get cleaned up.  Felt like I had washed off at least five pound so dirt.

Before dinner Pastor Peter came to visit, with moist eyes he told me what a blessing I had been to him two years ago.  Compliments on a sermon on Sunday are pretty much to be expected even if the person never comes back to Church.   A compliment a week later is wonderful.  But two years later….During dinner Judge Phuna—the judge who is responsible judgments for problems relating to children—phoned to welcome me to  his country and to tell me that he wanted me to come for a visit today.  Apart from the judge’s signature we would never be able to bring a child into the U. S.   I certainly feel welcomed Didier is trying to protect me until I can get some rest.  I had 7 visitors before 9:00 am.  All I have to do is open the door and go out on the breeze way. 

Hopefully I will get access to the ‘net today and you will find this on Fbook.  Please overlook errors and poor grammar, etc.

Wednesday

Yesterday afternoon we had great plans, I was going to visit the orphanage, call on Judge Phuna, our attorney wants me to come by for a visit.  I have not seen Pastor Mickey and his wife Saundra yet.  So many things to do that we planned on and what did I do?  We took Annie to town to buy food which is an everyday occurrence. Imagine if you had to buy for about 30 people daily and had no refrigeration.  While she made the necessary purchases, Didier and I hashed out some plans about getting electricity to the Mission Station.  By noon I was absolutely exhausted, so tired I could hardly keep my eyes open. I came back to the guest house, grabbed some squirrel food, a banana, drank a bottle of water and off to bed I went.

About two hours later I woke up looked out the window, saw the sun was shining and thought that I had slept all night.  I went back to sleep for about two more hours.  Then I got up went to Didier’s house, the doors were closed, thought maybe he was napping so back to the guest house.  About half an hour later he came in and told me that he had come by, seen how I was sleeping and did not want to wake me up. 

For our evening meal we had goat stew, okra, potatoes and rice.  It was all very flavorful but I find the meat a little chewy.  The sauce over the potatoes or rice is excellent. 

 

I went outside this morning as I like to watch the morning arrive: women are carrying water, children are on the way to school, etc.  But it was so very cold out that I was driven back in.  We are South of the equator so summer is arriving, by noon it will be so hot that I will not want to be outside.  Fortunately the guest house provides a break from both the heat and the cold. 

I mentioned that I  have not been in the Orphanage yet.  Plans were that I would go yesterday afternoon, apparently the workers need all morning to get the place cleaned up and ready for a visitor. I did get to peek into the Church in the morning to see the children being taught French.  They were learning body parts: eyes, ears, mouth, etc.  Stephan a Christian man who teaches in the local school was working with them.  He was enthusiastic and they were so excited as he pointed to a part and they all shouted out the name of the body part.  I have yet to have the Browns’ children pointed out to me.  Hopefully today.

Again today there is shopping for food and I hope to get my luggage as this is the fourth day in these socks.  

More later as I need to get this in the mail.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

  

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Church Services Today

Sunday

• Spoke twice today  once in Sunday School  and then in the main service.

• It was in Mineral, VA which is a two hour drive from my daughter's house.

•  I was being guided by a GPS unit, but I was beginning to distrust the thing because I kept going, going and going South.

• I thought I was going to end up leaving the state, but finally arrived at the Church.

• A dear friend  is the Pastor in Mineral,  the last time I had seen him was many years ago.

• We were re-united by Facebook.

• After church I had a great visit with a couple--they are thinking about adopting a child.

• That excites me.

• I am suire that does not surprise me.

 

• Is this not what Pastor do when they are on vacation?



It Is An Overwhelming Event

The Process has Been Long and Exhausting

Tuesday

• I have prepared at least a 50 page syllabus for teaching pastors and church leaders.
• Packing has been a very demanding process. How do you prepare to live on the road for about 80 days?
• Once you figure out how much of many things you think you will need, then it has to be packed and weighed into 50 pound bags.
• How are bills to be paid and mundane things like that?
• How much money will I need and how is the safest way to carry it as it has to be in cash (one hundred dollar bill no older than 2006).
• How much food should I take and how is it to be packed? (Cliff Bars, dried meat and military Meals Ready to Eat are on my list)?

Wednesday

• I travel to three banks to take care of financial arrangements, the money can have no marks, tears or signs of aging or a hundred dollar bill may be discounted up to 30%.
• Then off to Elk Grove so I can spend the night with dear friends and be closer to the Sacramento Air Port. 

Thursday

• Up at 3:20 am, showered shaved, re-packed because more items are given to me to take to the DRC.
• About 4:00 am  we head out to the car and I discover that I do not have my cell phone. It is found and off we go.
• I have over 200 pounds of luggage for The Congo, most of it is to left there for the mission: (compassionforcongo.org)
• I would never have been able to escort all my baggage without help from my friends. Getting baggage checked in and clearing security leaves me both stressed and exhausted.
• On the plane I am seated across the aisle from a Catholic Priest--not a Father, but a Mother--note that I did not say a Roman Catholic Priest.  She came from a liberal Catholic group
• I had the most delightful time visiting with her, she attends a Methodist Church and works in a hospital as a Chaplain. 
• Flew into Chicago and was delayed about an hour--my connecting flight to DC was late.
• Ann and Hannah met me at Dulles Air Port--my how Hannah grown since I last saw her. Delightful granddaughter.

Today

• To tired  to accomplish anything this morning.
• I am in much better shape this afternoon
• Terry is busy this evening
• Ann took Hannah and me to a Viet-Namese restaurant this evening.
• I had to much good food--feel like  just going to bed and sleeping.

Saturday

• Time to post. 

Before and After Story

hough surprised, we were not unhappy.

 WeBbbee hatTBBehisThTh

                           Zephanie is on my lap in our orphanage in the Congo                                 

Here is what I wrote:

Monday, September 26, 2011

FRIDAY WAS ABOUT ZEPHANIE

I was asked to blog about a little girl aged four who is in our orphanage named Zephanie.  She came to us from the Amani Orphanage--a Catholic orphanage. That was all that I knew. The Amani Orphanage does not normally take children of less than school age as they need to have their resident children in school for part of the day.  I asked Didier about her;  he told me that when she came to them she had a terrible infestation of lice.  She was not only infested, but the lice had caused an infection.  She had sores in her scalp.  He knew nothing of her back ground. 

Friday morning Didier came to the guest house and told me that he had made an appointment with the Amani Orphanage and we were going to meet with their staff to inquire about Zephanie’s background.  We drove to the orphanage and I was introduced to the staff—the mother of the orphans and a social worker.  We soon found that they had little knowledge of this little one.  But they knew where the foster parents lived who had take care of her and brought her to their orphanage.  So off the four of us went to do our research.

Pastor Didier told me that I was going to have to have a very large heart as we drove into the area from which Zephanie came.  It was more than a small island of poverty;  it was a very large community.  There poverty hit me like a blow to the solar plexus.  Poverty has its smell,  view and emotional  touch.  I will only mention briefly the view.  My first real glimpse was of a pre-teen girl with the unmistakable distended stomach. Little boys ran around either naked or partially naked. 

We stopped in front of a living quarter to visit the foster parent(s).  The social worker went ahead of the rest of us to ascertain whether or not it was alright for us to follow.  In just a few minutes he was back waving for us to follow. We went in, I having no idea of what to expect.  We entered an unlighted room which had a smooth floor—probably cement.  It was obviously the living space; about 30 sq. was my best estimate.   The walls were brick which had been smoothed out with mud.  There were two cracks in the wall into one of the cracks was inserted the most worn out tooth brush I had ever seen.  In the other crack was a totally worn out scrub brush.  They were indeed a matching pair. 

There were five white plastic chair one of which was already occupied by a woman whom I assumed to be the foster mother of Zephanie. Soon all were filled.  Didier asked me what I wanted to know.  The first question I wanted him to ask her was how much money the state paid her for taking care of Zephanie.  He did not even bother to ask, he just told me that she got no money. 

Soon a very animated conversation ensued of which I could not participate.  Then Didier almost whispered to let me know that we were in reality talking to Zephanies’s mother.  This was an overwhelming bit of information. We soon learned that Zephanie’s father died before she was three months old.  Her mother had a complete breakdown: mentally, physically and emotionally.  While she was incapacitated, someone took  Zephanie for her protection and was delivered to the Amani Orphanage.

The community tried to nurse Zephanie’s mother back to health.  When they failed, she was taken back to the village from which she originated to be treated by the local witch doctor.  He failed.

She was returned to the community and her doctor has told her that at any time she may die.  She is incapable of caring for a child. Until we arrived she did not know that Zephanie was alive, she assumed that her little girl was dead.  Pastor Didier showed her a picture of the child.  She looked long and hungrily at the picture and her eyes filled with tears. Pastor Didier whispered she is filling her mind and her heart with the picture. 

Before we left she signed papers of abandonment of Zephanie.

Zephanie on the far left is a beautiful, sweet, charming, lovable little girl loaded with personality,  possessor of many smiles is presently our only adoptable child.  Her mother has legally abandoned her and she has been in our possession for more than three months. 

This is the After Picture:  This is 2013 and she is so beautiful

Zephanie is no longer an Orphan

Her name is Kiffanie now and she lives in Wyoming.  

She has a family including a father; he probably took the picture.   Good job Ken.

WHERE IS MY HEART?

I AM THINKING ABOUT PACKING...

But seem to not accomplish much.... Today seems to be an excellent day to procrastinate.  Petal (our Bichon   Frise dog) and I are enjoying a day of little stress.  She is asleep on my bed as I am typing.  Tomorrow I will have to pack as I will be leaving for the Bay Area on Sunday after I preach at River Pines Bible Church.  

On Sunday when I leave home I will be packed for my trip to Travis Air Force Base where I have an appointment on Tuesday with a doctor who specializes in radiation therapy to kill some unwanted cells in my body.

Hopefully the weather will be pleasant in the Bay Area on Monday because I love to walk across the Golden  Gate Bridge, eat some Chinese food, ride the Cable Cars, look at things which I cannot afford and would never buy if I could do so.

Then on Tuesday it is only about a 45 minute drive to Travis AFB for my early morning appointment  and another adventurousome day.

SOME MUSINGS

I have been reading a book about written by a man who canoed the Congo River with all its hazards.  He reminded me of something which I knew but had given little thought to.  Dr. Livingstone, the famous British explorer, trekked across Africa looking for the source of the Nile River.  In 1873 while traveling in Africa he lost his last great battle to Malaria and internal bleeding caused by dysentery. 

In my distant past while traveling in England, I had opportunity to visit his crypt in Westminster Abbey. It is not a well known how he got his body traveled across Africa on the thousand mile trip to the East Coast of Africa to be placed on a ship destined to take his remains to London.

He had two trusty attendants who carried his body across the country to place it on theship.  After breathing his last, they removed his internal organs including his heart which was buried under a tree.  His body cavity was then filled with salt and with aid of the hot African sun and continual bathing in brandy was preserved for the trip.   With his legs bent back at the knees to make the body easier to transport, off they went carrying his body to the East coast of Africa.  But before the body was placed on the ship, a note was pinned to the body saying, "You can have his body, but his heart belongs in Africa." Eleven months after his death, his body was laid to rest.  

I identify with the simple statement, "You can have his body, but his heart belongs in Africa."  I plan on being there this ssummer.

SPEED BUMPS IN THE ROAD OF LIFE

In 2006, I had a prostate-ectomy.  Following that I had a minor surgery to correct some problems related to the removal of the prostate.  The second surgery corrected the problem, but I was warned that it might have to be repeated in as short of time as two years.    

Not to long ago, I began to experience some minor problems and assumed that the second surgery was in need of being done again.  At the same time I was completing my inoculations for my trip to the DRC.  So I was  combining my trips to the doctor at the Veterans Administration as much as possible as I have to drive 90 minutes to get there.     

                                                                                                                                                   My Urology doctor had prescribed a mild tranquilizer for what he called a spastic bladder.    On Tuesday I got my last two shots, dropped into Urology to see about making an appointment with my doctor because a side effect of the tranquilizers was acid ingestion.   I assumed that the doctor would want to try another prescription.  The Urology Department scheduled me to see a doctor on Wednesday. 

The Urologist examined all of my past records and told me very firmly that I have a renewal of cancer in my body. He was very firm about this and told me that I would need radiation in the area where the prostate had been.  Since then I have talked to a social worker and the hospital at Travis Air Force Base where the radiation will be done. I have an appointment at Travis on the 26th of this month to talk to the doctor and gather information.  Assuming that everything goes as planned then I will have another appointment at this time and  the doctor will mark the area to be radiated.  

Following the second appointment I will be reporting to Travis and staying in a motel on the base for six to eight weeks Monday through Friday. I will be in the hospital for one hour each of the five days. I will be free to leave the base on weekends.  One of the questions which I needed answered is: will the radiation affect my ability to travel to the DRC? At each point I have told every medical professional that I am planning on traveling on the 15th of August to be gone for 60 days.  They have all assured me that this will be no problem. 

1 Thessalonians 5:16-18 (ESV)
 Rejoice always,
 pray without ceasing,
 give thanks in all circumstances; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you.

Planning my Return Trip to the Democratic Republic of the Congo

As I sit in front of my computer, I am keenly aware of the fact that we have eight orphans assigned to anxiously awaiting families who desperately want to bring their children home from the Congo.

Three of these children are in Kinshasa with Pastor Didier and Mama Angelique jumping through their final hurdles with the American Embassy. They will soon be ready to travel to the U. S. and will be with their forever families. 

Families in the U. S. are buying plane tickets and awaiting their visas from the DRC Embassy in Washington, DC.  For those of you who are in this process the information I want to share is probably too late.  You are too far advanced in your travel plans.  You have already made some of the decision that I was making when I planned my trip to the DRC. 

It seems like it was such a short time ago, that I was praying and planning my trip to Africa.  Now I am beginning to work on my next trip and dealing with some of the same issues but from a different perspective. 

If you are a future adoptive parent and are weighed down with a home study and paper work, you may not be prepared to think with me about some other issues which are important such as passports, visas, plane tickets and vaccinations.

Vaccinations (Disclaimer)

I want to share my history with you in hopes that it might be helpful. I will give my past history and my present approach after having done much research and asked many questions.

First, recognize the fact that you will not get out of the country without a CDC 731 which is an official International Certificate of Vaccination.  You will not get into the DRC unless it shows that you have had a Yellow Fever Vaccination.  This is the minimum requirement to get into the Democratic Republic of the Congo. According to the Center for Disease Control.

Historical Study

Being a student of history and valuing the opinions of others who have had a recent history, I needed to make contact with someone who had been to the Congo. 

Some way or another I was put into contact with a retired policeman—Ray Hill-- who had just returned from the Congo.  He had gone to our Mission: Compassion for Congo (compassionforcongo.org) with the plans of spending forty days there.  He was going to update the electrical wiring on the missions’ building.  A local doctor ordered him out of the country ten days later lest he die in Africa.  Ray was so sick that as he described it, “that I could hardly hold my head up.”  He flew home to recuperate and still has/had some residual problems which his HMO  has not been able to resolve.  He has not had a reoccurrence for several weeks so maybe this is now in his past. 

Center for Disease Control

I love to get free information from experts so I visited their website to find that you can get information about travel to two hundred different countries from the website.  Also they have a 1-800-232-4636 number which put me in contact with a live female voice in Atlanta.  After I explained my plans to travel to the DRC, I was told that I would have to have Yellow Fever vaccine.  It was also recommended that I have Hepatitis A and Hepatitis B; the latter being based on the fact that I might have sexual activity in the Congo.  I decided to not have the Hep. B shot.  The voice also told me that I would need to have some sort of Malaria prevention.   That I listened to heartily since I had read many missionary stories of suffering and death as people labored in tropical areas. Plus having studied the history of WWII and how soldiers suffered from Malaria and had to take quinine.  They said the taste was so terrible that they learned to throw it in a curve to bypass their taste buds.

Research as to Where

I wanted to limit my vaccinations as I learned they were terribly expensive, but also did not want to bring back some lingering disease.  I found that many drug stores and even some grocery stores will vaccinate travelers.  Also those of you who have an HMO may be able to get free shots.  I am covered by the Veterans Administration so I made an appointment with my primary care doctor—a delightful lady who is my friend.  She strongly advised me to not go and when she found that I was going anyway, she almost wept.  I was rescued from her tears by a ringing phone. 

I ended up at a travel medicine purveyor in Folsom, CA where I received my meds and much good advice.  I learned that if I did not have the Hepatitis B vaccination then I should never allow a medical practioner  in Africa to break my skin due to the possibility of a dirty needle.  At that time, my thought were that if I became seriously ill, I would just leave the country as did Ray Hill.  I did not think about the fact that all planes might be filled up for some time or that I might get dropped off in Ethiopia for twenty seven hours as I did on the way home.  I cannot imagine what it would have been like to be so sick that I could not hold my head up and then to have had to go through the process of getting an Ethiopian  visa, being taken to a hotel and spending more than a day in a foreign country.  It was difficult enough for me when I was feeling well. I say all of this to tell you that I am in the process of reconsidering issues as I plan another trip to the DRC.

This Time—Good News

I have made two recent trips to the Veterans Administration Hospital and have learned that the VA now considers it to be less expensive to prevent travel diseases than to treat them after the fact.  I have gotten my flu shot and a typhoid shot.  I have had lab work done to determine if I need Hep. B.  My lovely lady doctor has told me that I may have immunity to it.  If I need the shots then they will come in a series of three over a four month time period.  All of the shots are at no cost to me.

The VA has a travel medicine specialist.  She warned me very sharply about the possibility of Malaria in an approximate five minute lecture.  Rattling off information which I cannot remember she said, If you do not follow instruction and take your pills and a certain common mosquito bites you with a common form of Malaria “I guarantee that you will die within 24 hours.”  My Malaria pills have been ordered for me.  A thirty day prescription will have only a very minimal cost. 

Before you leave for the DRC, please see a  travel specialist.

MY LAST SUNDAY IN LUBUMBASHI

The Service started at 10:00 am, but Pastor Didier had been hard at work for several hours. We were combining two churches for this service. Chairs had been moved from one church to another to accommodate the increased number of attendees. Didier drove to the church which he pastors to pick up the university aged choir—probably about 12 young people. Two busses, 7 passenger vans, were hired to bring worshippers from one church to the other. In the Congo the vans may haul 20 people normally, but in abnormal circumstance 30 may be crowded in if it is physically possible. Unfortunately I did not see the vans unload so as to be able to count the arriving group.

Annie had prepared rice, beans and fish for 200 people; the actual number went beyond this. There was over 100 children in attendance. Because of this large number the children they had to meet in a separate building.

At 9:00 I went to the church to just sit and meditate. Already the first university choir was there, soon a high school aged choir was in place. Before the morning was over two adult choirs would be participate also. Keep in mind that the plan for a worship service under Didier’s direction involves one hour of animated singing, plus one hour of preaching. To this we were going to add a communion service.

I preached and officiated at the Communion Table. The service lasted for more than three hours. Then the crowd had to be fed. The children were in the process of being fed when the adult service was over. Didier apologized to me about eating late because he knew I was hungry. While we were waiting for food he decided to move the borrowed chairs back to where they had come from. He asked me to help; moving the chairs involved about an extra hour.

When we arrived from moving the chairs, I went immediately to the church to get my food. I looked at the table and found the food containers were empty. Just before disappointment depressed me, one of the girls from the university aged choir called to me and held up a plate of rice, beans and a partial sardine which she had saved for me.

The choir was seated in a circle, some sang and some were still eating. Singing seemed to be the preferential act as those who had not emptied their plates would stop eating to sing. While I was eating and they were singing one of the young men told me that they were telling me good by by singing. I was very deeply touched by that realization. After the food was eaten and the singing was over, we all stood up and one girl came to me with a short speech. She said, “Pastor Wheatley we love you, you are gentle man.” I am sure that she was speaking for the group.

I replied,”I love you also, may I kiss you on the cheek?” She extended her cheek for my polite and loving peck. Just as soon as she got her kiss, another girl rushed up and said, “Me too.” Needless to say….

I went outside and had countless pictures taken of me with various church members. One was with a little baby boy who was probably very frightened of being held by a strange white man. Tears rolled down his cheeks , but mama still wanted me to hold him for the picture. I co-operated. In their culture to have an older Pastor hold your child is to have your child blessed. I felt like some sort of dignitary.

I headed to the guest house; the choir was following me. I have no idea what they were planning, but Pastor Didier met us and gently discouraged them from following me. I was glad that he realized how tired I was.

---

The Last Leg of my Trip to D. C.

In a previous posting, I have told you of my extra day spent in Ethiopia. At 10:15 pm the plane departed from Addis Ababa for Rome where we refueled and changed the crew of the plane which took about an hour. I was seated next to a 29 year old Ethiopian graduate student who lived and studied in Kentucky. She slept most of the trip, but it seemed like every time I would fall asleep, she would accidently jab me in the ribs with her elbow. One time in my sleep, my body drifted to close to hers and I realized how badly we both probably smelled.

At about 7:30 am we arrived at the Dulles airport. Remember we had flown north to Rome and then had crossed the Atlantic by so doing we were chasing a setting sun. This makes for long days so I don’t know how many hours we actually traveled.

Clearing customs was no problem; no one was interested in opening my bag. It was just a matter of patiently waiting in line, sliding my passport through an electronic reader and a friendly greeting. Before long I was in a taxi headed to my daughter’s home. On arrival I found a hidden key and headed straight for a shower and a shave. I was soon calling home and Sharon wanted to know if I took a long shower. Actually I could not take a long shower without feeling guilty over it. I am still living with the realization of how much I have and how little some people have.

On Being Re-Americanized.

I drank milk for the first time in more than three weeks. I drove a car. I am in Starbucks drinking coffee, I had a bagel with creamed cheese. Wow! I did not realize how culturally deprived I felt until I got re-exposed to the wealth of America. Soon I am going to go Costco to develop some pictures which I will take to Hannah’s school. I hope to be able to share them with her class and maybe another class where I know the teacher. I will fly home on Monday.

I FORGOT TO MENTION THAT I ATE WORMS AT ONE MEAL WHILE IN THE DRC.