March Highlights

Wednesday, March 25, 2009

I haven’t kept up very well with journaling over the past two weeks. Sometimes the days just get away from me. Here are some of the highlights:

JASON
Jason’s big project during this time period was writing a book. One day he sat down, took twenty pieces of plank paper and started drawing pictures for a story. He carefully numbered the bottom of each page. When he was through, he came to me and told me the story of what was happening on each page and I wrote it down. The plot involved knights and dragons and a lot of “chinging” of swords. He was very pleased with the end product and proud that he was now an “Arthur” and “Illustrator.” Everyone who came over had to read the story and he took it to school where his teacher read it to the class.

Entertaining Adrian and Bob with his book

Jason, our little competitor, was eager for the annual “Splash Gala” at school. He swam in three races and was obviously the winner in the first race, came second in the next, and declared himself the winner on the third although that finish was a bit fuzzy. He enjoys the challenge and has really improved in his swimming abilities.

At dinner one evening, Jason brought up the subject of his cousin Justin’s hair. In the picture on our mantel, Justin’s hair is short but when they visited last summer, it was long. Jason paused and announced, “I don’t like when things change.” Very perceptive of him. Of all of us, he struggles with change the most but eventually, he adapts.

BRENDAN
For one of his school assignments, Brendan wrote a story about Poseidon and Sirens. His class ended up adapting his idea and creating a play to present at assembly. Brendan got to be Poseidon and had no trouble memorizing his lines. They did a fine job. I’m still always surprised when presentations are followed by a group prayer. Everyone closes their eyes and folds their hands and prays to Jesus, regardless of their faith background.



In assembly the following week, the winners of the Grade 3 Handwriting contest were announced. When the head teacher asked whom they thought the winner would be, students in all the grades shouted, “Brendan!” Apparently, he has quite a reputation for winning awards already.

Brendan is drawn to the piano these days. He learns songs by ear or I teach him basic melodies. My attempts at actually doing lessons with him has flopped. But when he is in a teachable mood, I try to show him a thing or two. He was trying to play Kum ba ya in a key other than C but didn’t understand about flats and sharps so I showed him the black keys and how they work a bit. Now he has figured out how to play that song in a few more keys, listening for when he has to use a black note. I’m just letting him play around and hoping that it is training his ear in a natural and fun way. His music teacher has offered to give him piano lessons and we are considering that for next term. We’ll have to see if Brendan can sustain the desire to learn over a longer period of time.

In the evenings, we read out loud from a chapter book. In the past weeks we finished: “The BFG” and “Danny The Champion of the World” by Roald Dahl, “Stuart Little” and “Trumpet of the Swan” by E.B. White, and now we are reading “The Wizard of Oz.” The boys beg for more chapters to be read but they have to get up early for school. We’ll see how lax we get next week when they begin a three week term break.

OLD FRIEND, NEW FRIEND
We were absolutely delighted to have Bill Forbes and Elli Oswald spend a weekend with us. Bill and Peter were in a men’s breakfast group together over a decade ago in Pasadena. Bill and Heather and their kids lived in Cambodia for eight years, working with World Vision and are now in the Seattle area working for the same organization. His work brought him to Zambia and so he arranged to come see us. He brought along Elli, a World Vision intern and a graduate of Fuller Seminary. After a few hours, she felt like an old friend as well. I can’t even begin to describe how refreshing it was to have them here. Conversation partners are a real gift and we benefited from hearing their reflections on Zambia and the work that World Vision is doing in Africa. It was also good to hear about Cambodia and how Bill and Heather processed that experience and the impact on their family. They also asked good questions and listened to our joys and struggles. They went to church with us on Sunday and discovered I wasn’t kidding about the paid keyboardist who finally found the right key to play “Trust and Obey” when we were on the final verse. The boys basked in their attention and laughter and teasing. Brendan and Jason go crazy when we have visitors and eventually settle down a bit, but they are certainly energized by company. It was a good weekend.

TRAUMA WORKSHOP IN LUSAKA
Last Thursday morning I boarded a bus to Lusaka. I haven’t traveled alone for a long time so I was a little nervous at first. I sat down between two less than petite women and since the bus was nearly full, I only had to wait 15 minutes before we left (much better than Peter’s experience of waiting 4+ hours before his bus filled!). I started up a conversation with the lady on my right and we ended up talking for the first hour and a half. That made the trip go by faster. But there is nothing you can do about sitting in the same cramped position for 5 hours. I had to hunch my shoulders forward most of the time because there wasn’t any room between the shoulders of the other two ladies. But it could have been worse.

The reason for my travel was to conduct a workshop on Trauma Awareness and Counseling. I had designed a workshop where I met with a group for two days, and then several weeks, later, reconvened for another two days. This structure allowed me to travel without being away from my family for too long, kept the participants from getting workshop fatigue, allowed time in between for them to process the material and try it out, and for me to discover specific issues they are interested in and prepare that for the next time. So it was time to put my plan into action.

Chris Taylor, a SALTer, was assigned this year to work with the Archdiocese of Lusaka Peace Center. His job is centered on refugee advocacy. In one of his blogs, he talked about a group of women refugees who formed an association to help women and children meet their needs as refugees as well as to overcome trauma. I talked to Chris about inviting them to participate in my trauma workshop. At first, I thought just a few of the women would attend but they all wanted to be there. We also invited a few people from partner MCC organizations: Esther from Needs Care basic school (where Peter and I danced to the delight of the students and our family), Josephine from Chisomo Drop-in Center for street kids, and Joseph who is a counselor at Thalumi Girls Shelter which provides protection for girls pregnant through rape and incest and have been abandoned by their families. Cynthia Mueller, a new MCC worker who is interested in counseling and may volunteer at some of these partner organizations also attended. A few people from the Peace Center rounded out the group. Thanks to Chris and his organizational skills, we were able to make this workshop happen.

I truly enjoyed getting to know the participants through the course of the workshop. They were engaged, asked questions, lively, and gracious. Of the twenty or so participants, over half spoke French, although some were quite proficient in English as well. One kind gentleman, Albert, agreed to serve as translator for the eight women who really could not understand without an interpreter. The women who are part of the Great Lakes Women’s Refugee Association of Zambia (GWRAZ), come from Rwanda, Burundi, and the DRC. And their stories are heartbreaking. One fled Rwanda during the genocide and was separated from her family. After living in the bush/forest of Congo for 10 years (where amazingly they never lacked for food because of the abundance of the forest), she came to Zambia. It has just been in the past few years that she has made contact with her husband (who is in prison) and now grown children, though she still hasn’t seen them since they were separated. Another was raped and became pregnant, and her husband won’t accept the child. Another refugee had a baby here in Zambia who was dropped by nurses and suffered brain damage and every time she looks at the child, she is reminded of their negligence. During one part of the workshop, we divided into small groups and told our life stories to each other. Each was given a piece of paper and told to draw their life as a river, including the good times and the painful times. One woman refused to take part in the exercise. I gently explored her reasons and she just shook her head and said that she couldn’t. She was afraid of breaking down. I encouraged her that tears were more than acceptable and it could help on her healing journey. But then she said, “What I have to say is just too horrible. I can’t do it.” And I didn’t push her. She sat in on a group and listened to the stories of other participants. And my prayer is that one day she will be ready to tell her story. I can’t even imagine the pain she carries inside her. On a more positive note, one woman was separated from her husband when her baby was 3 months old. After three years of praying and searching, they were reunited. Tears streamed down her face, at the same time she was grinning from ear to ear. Sorrow and joy intermingled.

The participants, each in their own way, are dedicated to helping others who have been traumatized. They recognize their own pain and are at various stages in the healing process. I think it is wonderful that the refugees are joining together and I pray that they will be able to support each other and walk the journey toward healing together. The leader of GWRAZ, Esperance (which means Hope), said her mission is to help the next generation heal. One day, they will all return home and when they return, she doesn’t want the cycle of violence to continue. She wants refugee children to see themselves as Rwandans first and foremost, not Hutus and Tutsis, and to learn to live at peace with each other as they did before the genocide. I can’t communicate how lovely these people are. They were always ready with smiles and laughter and yet the pain and sorrow were present as well. I felt honored to be with them, to learn from them, and to equip them in some small way to face the trauma and to help others overcome as well.

Actually getting to the ADL Peace Center was a challenge in and of itself. It is near the city market so the traffic is CRAZY!!! But the road outside the center is non-existent. It is now a lake. Bricks were placed along the wall so that participants could get into the compound. The second morning, only half the gate was open so I couldn’t drive in. It was raining and the lake had expanded. A man with a wheelbarrow told us through sign language that he couldn’t open the gate because the water went up to his knees. I couldn’t push it open with the front of the truck because an iron rod was holding it in place. Finally, the man offered to open it for us if we paid him K5000 ($1). We knew it was the muzungu price but Cynthia and I felt it was worth it because neither of us wanted to wade out in the muddy water ourselves. He took off his socks and shoes, rolled up his trousers and trudged into the water to open the gate for us. I think it was a good deal. He got something he wanted and we did too.

The ladies on the far side were in the workshop!

In the evenings I was able to relax and chat with Eric and Kathy. It is quite a different experience getting to hang out at the Guesthouse without kids. I got to meet one of the new MCC families, the Muellers, and look forward to getting to know them more in the next three years. Trying to find the right bus at the terminal in Lusaka Sunday morning was a bit of a nightmare. I knew I wanted to find the EuroAfrica bus to Kitwe but wasn’t sure where it was. As soon as Eric dropped me off, I had no less than a dozen men surrounding me and “helping” me find a bus. I told them which bus I needed and they took me to a completely different bus. “This is EuroAfrica to Kitwe, right here,” they insisted. The logo on the side of the bus did not say EuroAfrica and I told them as much. “No, no, it is EuroAfrica on the inside.” I told them they were liars and anyone could see it wasn’t EuroAfrica. “OK, OK, I will take you to EuroAfrica,” and they started off in a different direction. I shoved my way through the men hemming me in and went to a ticket booth to ask where I could find the EuroAfrica bus and got pointed in yet another direction. I finally found the bus, bought my ticket, and was about to board the bus. But then these same guys had the nerve to keep asking me for money for “juicee” because they “helped” me find the bus. How exasperating.

I made it home, tired and hot and cramped, but was greeted by Brendan in such an exuberant manner, I felt much better. Jason is usually the demonstrative one but it was Brendan who ran over to hug me and welcome me home. Wonders never cease. But I’ll take it!