I've been listening to a beautiful Christmas song this morning... The lyrics are just wonderful:
All creation had a language, words to say what must be said.
All day long the heavens whispered, signing words in scarlet red.
Some have failed to understand it, so God spoke His final word.
On a silent night in Judah's hills, a baby's cry was heard.
"Glory!" sang the angel chorus! "Glory!" echoed back the night!
Love has come to walk among us. Christ the Lord is born this night...
My prayer is that you all have a blessed and Merry Christmas.
Love,
Bethany Dawn
Tuesday, December 22, 2009
Wednesday, December 16, 2009
Worlds Collide
Thursday, December 10, 2009, 9:45am
For a solid 20 minutes, I have been sitting in a storefront that is still being built. Leaning against the raw brick, unfinished wall, sitting on a stone to keep me off the dirt floor - we are grateful the builders had already attached the metal roof to the building. The rain continues to pour from the heavens, the ground is saturated already, we had rain just two days ago. Sitting so near to the ground, amidst the unending rain, I am overwhelmed by the smell of the earth. Fresh, clean, wet, dirt. It almost reminds me of my Mom's garden.
I'm not the only one taking shelter inside this future-store or boutique. With me is a boy who looks like a college student - clearly late for classes, but with the understandable and acceptable excuse of "the rain came!"
There is a middle aged woman, sitting on a small stone similar to my own, in the middle of this "room." She is either a great faker, or else she has somehow managed to fall asleep while sitting on a stone, surrounded by strangers, in the midst of the thunder crashes. In some ways I'm a bit jealous of the ability she has to sleep just where she has happened to be.
Near to the mama is her taxi driver, who has also decided to close his eyes and try to catch some sleep, sitting on top of his motorcycle.
My taxi driver is under the overhang, just outside our door, as if he's keeping watch for the precise moment this rain will end.
There are several others out there near him, and undoubtedly more in the attached rooms to our particular store. We are a hodge-podge of people, all put together unexpectedly. We listen to the lulling sounds of the rain on the roof and the newly paved road.
Occasionally people will pass by on foot - soaking wet. I wonder why they don't stop and take shelter from the rain. But then I realize that rain is a part of life here. Life doesn't stop when the rains come. And neither do they.
Across the road is Enra, where there is processing and manufacturing of Mahogany, and a large forest within the compound as well. It's surrounded by what looks like a 5 or 6 foot wall. I watched at first in surprise as I saw things falling from or off of that wall. I finally realized that what I saw were sticks and branches. Someone was throwing wood over from Enra. A few minutes later, I saw three children climb over the wall, laughing and dancing in the ever-increasing rain. One of the two girls seemed to take rest under a tall tree. The boy and other girl would occasionally dance, especially when a car would pass by - practicing a new dance move, perhaps? But eventually, life beckoned - the responsibility of the task they had been sent on was remembered and they all started loading up on the sticks and branches they'd collected. And in spite of the thunder, lightening or the rain, they started making their way up the road.
A while later, I saw a woman walking up the hill towards us, carrying a heavy load on her back (likely from her garden). She also had an umbrella in her hand, covering her head. It took just a moment to realize the reason - on top of the large sack she carried on her back, was her young baby. Even though she had hundreds of veggies and wood, she still wanted to protect her baby from the rain, without stopping on her journey to get out of the rain. It was both beautiful and heartbreaking.
By 10:15, I was once again on the back of the motorcycle, on my way to UCBC. It was still sprinkling a bit, but compared to the downpour of the past 50 minutes, it wasn't so bad.
On my mind though are the people I saw while sitting in that room, and the ones I shared the room with. Our worlds met for less than an hour. An opportunity we wouldn't have had if it hadn't rained.
For a solid 20 minutes, I have been sitting in a storefront that is still being built. Leaning against the raw brick, unfinished wall, sitting on a stone to keep me off the dirt floor - we are grateful the builders had already attached the metal roof to the building. The rain continues to pour from the heavens, the ground is saturated already, we had rain just two days ago. Sitting so near to the ground, amidst the unending rain, I am overwhelmed by the smell of the earth. Fresh, clean, wet, dirt. It almost reminds me of my Mom's garden.
I'm not the only one taking shelter inside this future-store or boutique. With me is a boy who looks like a college student - clearly late for classes, but with the understandable and acceptable excuse of "the rain came!"
There is a middle aged woman, sitting on a small stone similar to my own, in the middle of this "room." She is either a great faker, or else she has somehow managed to fall asleep while sitting on a stone, surrounded by strangers, in the midst of the thunder crashes. In some ways I'm a bit jealous of the ability she has to sleep just where she has happened to be.
Near to the mama is her taxi driver, who has also decided to close his eyes and try to catch some sleep, sitting on top of his motorcycle.
My taxi driver is under the overhang, just outside our door, as if he's keeping watch for the precise moment this rain will end.
There are several others out there near him, and undoubtedly more in the attached rooms to our particular store. We are a hodge-podge of people, all put together unexpectedly. We listen to the lulling sounds of the rain on the roof and the newly paved road.
Occasionally people will pass by on foot - soaking wet. I wonder why they don't stop and take shelter from the rain. But then I realize that rain is a part of life here. Life doesn't stop when the rains come. And neither do they.
Across the road is Enra, where there is processing and manufacturing of Mahogany, and a large forest within the compound as well. It's surrounded by what looks like a 5 or 6 foot wall. I watched at first in surprise as I saw things falling from or off of that wall. I finally realized that what I saw were sticks and branches. Someone was throwing wood over from Enra. A few minutes later, I saw three children climb over the wall, laughing and dancing in the ever-increasing rain. One of the two girls seemed to take rest under a tall tree. The boy and other girl would occasionally dance, especially when a car would pass by - practicing a new dance move, perhaps? But eventually, life beckoned - the responsibility of the task they had been sent on was remembered and they all started loading up on the sticks and branches they'd collected. And in spite of the thunder, lightening or the rain, they started making their way up the road.
A while later, I saw a woman walking up the hill towards us, carrying a heavy load on her back (likely from her garden). She also had an umbrella in her hand, covering her head. It took just a moment to realize the reason - on top of the large sack she carried on her back, was her young baby. Even though she had hundreds of veggies and wood, she still wanted to protect her baby from the rain, without stopping on her journey to get out of the rain. It was both beautiful and heartbreaking.
By 10:15, I was once again on the back of the motorcycle, on my way to UCBC. It was still sprinkling a bit, but compared to the downpour of the past 50 minutes, it wasn't so bad.
On my mind though are the people I saw while sitting in that room, and the ones I shared the room with. Our worlds met for less than an hour. An opportunity we wouldn't have had if it hadn't rained.
Christmas-time is here...
With surprise I saw that yesterday was December 15 - or since I am studying French, I should say, "le 15e Decembre."
Without snow or Christmas lights everywhere, it can be hard for some to really see this as "Christmastime," but it still is. Regardless of the advertisements to buy more presents, an abundance of Santas and preparations to decorate the house - it's still Christmastime.
We haven't seen too many decorations - though I'm sure it will come, especially this weekend / next week. Last year we decorated the Christmas tree at the Kasali's on Christmas Eve. The same night that Kassie and I baked for hours on end!
I don't know what we will do to celebrate, this year specifically... We are in our house now without Congolese family members - a lot of displaced Americans. And most are new to Congo, especially during a holiday.
So we have the chance to develop a new tradition, a way of recognizing and focusing on the meaning of this time of the year. What will we do? How will we observe and celebrate and reflect on Christmas as a family, this year?
I don't know.
But my hope is that we will still see this for what it is, even if it doesn't look exactly the same.
It's Christmas.
I've been listening to Christmas music the past two days, maybe as a way to remind MYSELF and to put me into the "spirit." And sometimes, I can hear Mama Furaha singing Christmas songs... They are of course in Swahili, but hearing the tune still takes me to the spirit I'm looking for.
On Sunday, we attended local choir Echo du Salut's concert with a large, well-known choir from Butembo. As the concert opened up, the choir from Butembo sang the Halleluiah Chorus acapella, in Swahili. It was beautiful. Absolutely PERFECT. It was a fantastic way to be reminded of Christmas and to reflect on the power of words, regardless of language.
Joyeux Noel!
(Merry Christmas)
Without snow or Christmas lights everywhere, it can be hard for some to really see this as "Christmastime," but it still is. Regardless of the advertisements to buy more presents, an abundance of Santas and preparations to decorate the house - it's still Christmastime.
We haven't seen too many decorations - though I'm sure it will come, especially this weekend / next week. Last year we decorated the Christmas tree at the Kasali's on Christmas Eve. The same night that Kassie and I baked for hours on end!
I don't know what we will do to celebrate, this year specifically... We are in our house now without Congolese family members - a lot of displaced Americans. And most are new to Congo, especially during a holiday.
So we have the chance to develop a new tradition, a way of recognizing and focusing on the meaning of this time of the year. What will we do? How will we observe and celebrate and reflect on Christmas as a family, this year?
I don't know.
But my hope is that we will still see this for what it is, even if it doesn't look exactly the same.
It's Christmas.
I've been listening to Christmas music the past two days, maybe as a way to remind MYSELF and to put me into the "spirit." And sometimes, I can hear Mama Furaha singing Christmas songs... They are of course in Swahili, but hearing the tune still takes me to the spirit I'm looking for.
On Sunday, we attended local choir Echo du Salut's concert with a large, well-known choir from Butembo. As the concert opened up, the choir from Butembo sang the Halleluiah Chorus acapella, in Swahili. It was beautiful. Absolutely PERFECT. It was a fantastic way to be reminded of Christmas and to reflect on the power of words, regardless of language.
Joyeux Noel!
(Merry Christmas)
Monday, December 7, 2009
Rain
Friday, December 4, 2009
Before leaving the States… Many people asked if it would be the rainy season when I arrived in Beni. I would simply laugh and say, I don’t know! People here tell me that Beni has seasons of rain or sun, but during my time in Beni last year, I never saw it.
It would rain for three days and then we’d have sunshine and no rain for ten. Sometimes we’d have 10 minutes (or 3 hours) in a day and sunshine for the next four. It seemed to happen like this throughout the whole year I was here. “I’m convinced that there are no seasons,” I would proclaim!
Since I’ve gotten to Beni on the 15th of November, it has rained every single day. Sometimes all day long. Sometimes just a quick shower in the morning or for a few hours in the middle of the night...
This morning I woke up to the sound of rain (which I could hear in spite of the earplugs!), around 5am-ish. It continued until nearly 7am. Now at 12:15pm, I’m watching dark clouds approach the school.
I guess there is a rainy season after all. We’re certainly in it.
Before leaving the States… Many people asked if it would be the rainy season when I arrived in Beni. I would simply laugh and say, I don’t know! People here tell me that Beni has seasons of rain or sun, but during my time in Beni last year, I never saw it.
It would rain for three days and then we’d have sunshine and no rain for ten. Sometimes we’d have 10 minutes (or 3 hours) in a day and sunshine for the next four. It seemed to happen like this throughout the whole year I was here. “I’m convinced that there are no seasons,” I would proclaim!
Since I’ve gotten to Beni on the 15th of November, it has rained every single day. Sometimes all day long. Sometimes just a quick shower in the morning or for a few hours in the middle of the night...
This morning I woke up to the sound of rain (which I could hear in spite of the earplugs!), around 5am-ish. It continued until nearly 7am. Now at 12:15pm, I’m watching dark clouds approach the school.
I guess there is a rainy season after all. We’re certainly in it.
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