Forgiveness

At Nhowe, it’s not uncommon for kids to linger around outside our house.  As I’ve mentioned before, there are hardly any personal boundaries here and many times the kids will come right up to the house and stare in the windows.  Last week when I went into my bedroom after a shower to get dressed, there was a little boy peering in and because it’s so common, I wasn’t very surprised or shocked.  I recognized the boy and hurried to get dressed because I needed to talk to him.

A couple months earlier, this same little boy was brought to Erik on the sideline of a soccer game.  He had a bad rash on his leg and needed a doctor.  As Erik did a quick inspection of his leg on the sidelines, he noticed an oozing, infected rash that extended from his knee down.  The rash was crusted over in places and was so bad that his shoe was actually stuck on his foot!  His leg was swollen and he walked with a limp.  My heart hurt for this sweet boy.  Since it was Sunday, Erik asked him to go to the clinic the next day with a parent.  The next day I happened to be at the hospital working on a project by the entrance when this boy and his mom walked in.  I quickly called Erik and approached them.  A nurse came out to translate for us because his mom did not speak any English and we learned that he had been suffering with this rash for a long time.  His mom claimed they didn’t have any money and could not afford a clinic visit, which was $4.00, or medicine to treat it.  I begged Erik to do what he could to help.  Erik was able to get the boy into the clinic and get him the medicine he needed.  I was so happy about it and I have often prayed for this boy’s healing.  When I saw him outside my window, I was very interested to see how his leg was healing up.

I quickly slipped on a skirt, but before I could get outside, Skogen was in my room in tears.  He explained that he was working at his desk in his room, which was in front of an open window.  His watch had been sitting on his desk and accidentally fell out of the window!  When he went outside to get his watch, the little boy, who had been peering in the windows, was twirling it around and around in his hands.  Skogen asked for his watch back and the little boy put it in his pocket and shook his head ‘no.’ When I stepped outside, the little boy was standing at the edge of the long grass,  about 50 feet  from our house.  I yelled to him, asking him to give us the watch back.  As I walked toward him, though, he took off running through the tall grass toward Arizona, the little village nearby  where he lives.  We have been advised on many occasions not to go into Arizona, due to the other things, so I decided to let him go.

Skogen was very unhappy about this situation.  He had never had anything stolen from him like this before and was saddened that one of the local kids, who was a potential friend, would do something like this.  We reviewed our “family rules” that are hanging on our wall in the living room and prayed about the situation.  I assured Skogen that we’d get him a new watch when we got back to the States and that it didn’t cost much at Walmart to get the exact same one.  The next day, I could see this was weighing on everyone.  The kids talked about it at the breakfast table, it was the topic of conversation among friends in the yard, and Klaasen prayed about it at dinner that evening.  Previously, we had all associated stealing with bad guys and I knew the kids were having a hard time processing a friend stealing.  I understood their feelings, but also had my own frustrations.  This was the same little boy that we had taken pity on and bent over backwards to get him the medical care he needed to get well and now he was stealing from us.  It just didn’t sit right with me.

On Sunday we arrived at church and sat down in the wooden pew with a strategic seating arrangement to minimize distractions or interpersonal drama.  First T, then Erik, Klaasen, me, Madia, and lastly Skogen.  On the other side of Skogen there was a lady with her little girl who came in just behind us.  I glanced at her face to see if I recognized her and then something caught my eye – she had Skogen’s watch on!!!

I couldn’t believe it!  Skogen saw it before I did and was already in tears.  I felt uneasy as I leaned over to tell Erik.  Erik had Skogen double-triple make sure that it was his watch and then assured us we’d get it back somehow.  I sat there in disbelief.  How could this be?  I glanced at the lady’s face a few more times and recognized her as the mother to the boy with the bad rash.  I also recognized her, though, as the lady who had gone forward after church last Wednesday to be baptized.

Erik slipped a dollar bill in his shirt pocket during services and told me about his plan to confront her on the way out of church and offer to buy the watch back.  My thoughts were all over the place. By asking for the watch back and maybe creating some awkwardness, I didn’t want to drive her away from church.  I also wanted to make sure we were being good Christian examples for our kids, who were very emotionally involved in this situation.  This whole ordeal was such a big deal that I knew it was something the kids would remember forever.  I was angry and confused, but I was also sensitive to the fact that this woman doesn’t have as much as we do.  We could afford another watch.  She couldn’t.  What was the right thing to do? My mind was spinning as I contemplated the options.

Toward the end of the service, Erik stood up and I saw him grab a member of the church, someone Erik and I really respect as a Godly, Christian man.  They went into the preacher’s office together and I could only guess that Erik must have asked him what he should do.  Erik came back and sat down and then one of the elders came and got the lady from the pew and asked her into the office.  I felt nervous about what was taking place, but thankful that we didn’t have to be involved.  Later we found out that the elders called her into the office, told her what had happened, and asked for the watch back.  She gladly gave it to them and it was then returned to us after services.

As we walked home from church, I really thought this was the end of the stolen watch ordeal. I thought we had learned some good lessons and I was thankful that the elders helped us get it back.  I was so proud of Skogen for holding it together during church when he had to sit for two gruesome hours, looking at his watch on someone else’s wrist.  My proudest moment came on Tuesday, though.
Skogen, Klaasen, and Torsten were playing in the backyard in the sand and the little boy who stole the watch approached them.  Maida saw him through the window and quickly warned me that he was there.  Initially, when the watch was first taken, I had thought that if that little boy ever came over again, I would tell him that he was not allowed to play here because he stole something from us.  Honestly, I thought he’d be too ashamed to ever show his face here again, though.  A little surprised, I approached the boy and told him that we had gotten Skogen’s watch back.  I also told him that we weren’t happy that he had stolen it from us and that he should tell Skogen that he was sorry.  I was unsure if this boy even understood English, but he immediately turned and looked at Skogen and said, “I’m sorry.”  When I first approached him, I had planned on asking him to go home, but now I saw that Skogen and Klaasen had already given him a tool to dig with them in the sand.  So, with several little eyes on me, I looked at this little boy and simply just said that if he wanted to play here, he couldn’t steal our things.  I asked him if he understood and he nodded he did.  I said it again, “If you steal from us, I will ask you to go home the next time you come.”  He nodded yes and then Klaasen invited him, “Hey, come dig with us!”

I was humbled and almost embarrassed at how my heart initially felt when I was so sure about asking him to leave.  I was also so proud and honored to be the mom of such great boys, who had shown me what forgiveness looked like.  Ironically about 30 minutes later, I went back outside, this time on the other side of the house to hang some laundry.  Surprisingly, the little boy was in our garbage pit.  I hesitated for a minute, knowing what he was doing – taking things out of the pit.  It was garbage, though, and I shouldn’t care if someone took our garbage, right? On the other hand, though, I told him that he couldn’t steal from us and this was stealing.  Before I could say anything, he got out of the pit, slowly walked up to me, held up his hand, and sheepishly gave me something that he had taken out of the pit.  I thanked him for not taking it and in that moment I realized that this whole ordeal wasn’t just a learning experience for our kids, it wasn’t just a learning experience for me, but it was a learning experience for this boy, too.

Zimbabwe, Our Home-Away-From-Home

washing laundry at our spout beside out house at Nhowe

There isn’t a week that goes by that Erik doesn’t encourage me to write on the blog.  Between the hand washing of laundry loads and the preparations for meals (both of which take up most of my days here), there is really no reason I couldn’t just sit and jot down some thoughts.  Looking back on our time here, now the majority of it behind us, I have needed a significant amount of time to process this country and our lives here.  Adjusting to the much different kind of lifestyle was easy and a very welcome change from fast-paced America.  Understanding and burying myself in the culture was a whole different challenge.  At times I have felt word-less, not feeling worthy of appropriately expressing in paragraph form our life here.  Other times I have so many thoughts running through my head, and so much to say, that I can’t figure out where to start!

As the bright orange sun rises through our windows every morning, waking our family for breakfast, another day begins and with each new day here, so many life-changing opportunities welcome us.  I came here planning to give, but what I have received from our time here has definitely been more abundant.  Zimbabwe is a place that will always be special to me and once I get back to the United States, I know I will always long for this place – I am sure we all will.  Zimbabwe has been permanently placed in our hearts and is truly our home-away-from-home.  Let me tell you a little about this wonderful country.

ladies doing their laundry on a bridge in the river

Zimbabwe is a country overflowing with kindness.  The people here are the absolute nicest I have ever met.  I have been welcomed with smiles everywhere we go and it's hard to compare another place to the warmth we have been shown here.  In Zim, you don’t pass someone on the sidewalk without saying hello.  You wave to everyone you pass along the road when you’re driving.  Zimbabweans have a special handshake and it’s always a treasure when someone shakes my hand in the like, starting with the special hand slap before.  Young women always curtsy when introduced and men tip their hats.  There is a unique clapping that is done here, too.  The people cup their hands and clap softly, mostly as a way of saying “thank you,” but people are always clapping at church with a “hello” or “goodbye,” as well.  It's essentially a way people acknowledge respect for one another.  Common among the white Zimbabweans, friends and family are met with a hug and a kiss on the cheek or lips, as well as a hug and a kiss goodbye.  Zimbabwe is place where you are made to feel very loved.

English is the official language of Zimbabwe, but the native languages are more common outside Harare.  Shona is the language around the Nhowe area and throughout most of the country.  Erik has been able to learn a little more Shona than the kids and I, but we all hope to learn more.  We’ve been here so long that most of the Zimbabweans expect us to have picked up more Shona and often speak to me in Shona when greeting me at church.  I have come to conclude that I am not as good at picking up a foreign language as I thought I was going to be.  Most people here, especially the school-aged kids, have two names, a Shona name and an English name.  I haven’t learned most of the adults’ first names because first names aren’t really used here.  Everyone is “Brother [last name]” or “Sister [last name].”  People usually just call me “Sista,” or “Sista Erik.”  The school kids and others who work around the mission often call me “Mama” and Erik is often called, “Boss.”

a woman carrying water on her head and also has a baby tied on her back

With the exception of the bigger cities, like Harare, most people are very nicely dressed most of the time.  Women are in skirts and it’s very common for men to be in a nice shirt and tie on any regular day, often even in a full suit (most of the time not matching trousers and suit coat).  In the winter, women will tie blankets around their skirts for extra warmth.  I wore leggings under my skirt from the time we got here in May until around the end middle of August.  It gets chilly!  It is very, very common for a young woman to have a baby tied on her back.  Actually, I have never seen a child carried in any other manner! They usually use a beach towel to tie the babies on and a blanket around the outside for extra support.  Babies are tied on as newborns and often until they’re around 3-4 years old.  It’s their comfort zone and when babies get fussy, the moms can barely get them tied on their back before they’re calm and asleep.  Also common here is nursing.  I haven’t seen one baby bottle in the whole country.  When I asked a few friends what happens when a mother can’t produce milk, they laughed!  They said that’s not a thing.  They had never even heard of donating breast milk because they said it’s not done.  Mothers always produce milk and breast feed until at the very least two years old.

Orphans are very common in Zim.  AIDS has taken many of the parents and as we’ve witnessed, even young children are totally capable of raising themselves.  Family members or neighbors often help take care of these orphans, but oftentimes they fend for themselves, many of them sick with HIV themselves, unable to afford or get to any sort of medical care.  It’s an encouragement to me when I see Zimbabweans stepping up and trying to help these orphans, even if they have nothing themselves.

helping take corn off the cob with a rock, preparing it to go to the grinding mill

a grinding mill

You won’t drive down the road without passing several women with buckets, long sticks, or whatever they can carry on top of their head!  I cannot believe the strength of these women.  Most of the time they’ll have a heavy load on top of their head, a baby on their back, and be carrying things in both arms, too.  It’s truly amazing!  Amazement isn't even sufficient to describe how we felt when we saw a woman carrying a generator on her head!  I’m also impressed when I see women killing chickens, plucking the feathers, and then boiling them over a hot fire in the backyard for dinner.  Sadza is the main staple food of Zimbabwe.  Sadza is made from maize, which is corn.  After they harvest the corn and shuck it, they either throw it on their rooftop or have a high wooden stand that they pile it on to dry out in the sun.  Once it’s all dried out, they forcefully rub the corn on a rock to get the kernels off the cob.  Then these kernels are taken to a grinding mill where it is ground into a fine powder.  This powder ("mealie meal") can then be put in boiling water and made into a white pasty substance called sadza.  Think of cream-of-wheat or Malt-O-Meal with less moisture so it is more sticky.  Most Zimbabweans eat sadza for every single meal with “greens” and rarely a type meat on the side.  One of the patients in the hospital with HIV and tuberculosis said that she doesn't get a proper protein (meat, beans, nuts) even once per month!  Greens are similar to our collard greens in the States and they cook it by frying it in oil with a little onion and tomatoes.  For the people that can afford it, when they don’t have meat, they will mix their greens with peanut butter for some protein.  My kids LOVE sadza and although we don’t eat it for every meal like most do, we try to have it once a week.  The special thing about sadza is that you always eat it with your hands!  At first I was a little grossed out by full-grown adults eating with their hands, but it’s really grown on me.  I have to laugh when I see Klaasen trying to eat everything under the sun with his hands – he’s really adapted well! :)

a typical Zimbabwean homestead

There is a good majority of people here, especially in Harare, who live in houses that would look quite familiar to Americans.  They have electricity, running water, heat, AC, lots of rooms, and large yards.  However, out here around Nhowe Mission (about 2 hours from Harare) and other places further from the bigger cities, people live in something not so common in the US.  Usually a family will have a rectangle shack used for sleeping in.  I haven’t been in one, yet, but I’m assuming it can’t be more than one or maybe two small rooms and everyone sleeps together.  Then nearby, they will have a round little shack with a thatched roof.  This is where most of the cooking is done and would be considered the kitchen.  Almost everyone has a garden, too.  Commonly grown in gardens are onions, greens, carrots, tomatoes, and maize.  If you don’t have a garden, though, fresh produce is sold almost everywhere you go.  The problem is that nobody has money for that fresh produce and they have a garden out of necessity. (Click here and here.)  We like to buy the fruits and vegetables along the roadside because, not only is it very good, but it's so nice to meet the people and they get to know us after a few visits.  The only challenge is trying to figure out who to buy from when they all set up their stands together and they all sell the exact some things!  We usually have a list of things we need and Erik will try to buy a little from everyone.

Zimbabwe's economy uses the US dollar for currency, which has been helpful for us that we don’t have to exchange any money and don't have to contemplate mental conversions before buying something, but the problem with this is that there isn’t enough cash available in the country.  This hasn’t just been a problem for us, it’s a problem for everyone here.  (I think Erik has noted this in previous posts.)  There isn’t a day that goes by that there aren’t long lines outside of the banks, waiting for just an attempt at getting some hard cash.  IF the bank has money to give out, people are only allowed to withdraw $10-50 per day.  Zim also does not have any credit cards.  They have debit cards, which are called “swipe.”  Most of the time, we can use our international credit card (which saves on using hard cash!), but often times “swiping” is not even an option.  And even when it is an option, the swipe machines don't recognize our credit cards since they are only set up for debit cards.  We always hold our breath and cross our fingers when we try to pay with our cards!

Our family with our security guards. These guys are the whole reason that
 I've been able to sleep peacefully through the night.  I am SO thankful for them!

stopped at one of our favoite markets,
everyone runs to the car and holds their
goods up to the car windows, trying to make
a sale

There is an extremely high rate of unemployment in Zimbabwe (click on the links above) and the people who do have meaningful employment make hardly anything compared to people in the States.  For example, our night guards who stay up all night patrolling our property make only $2.00/NIGHT (edited by Erik - Kara must not have been able to comprehend this when she was writing it, or it could have been a simple typo, because she had originally typed $2.00/hour).  They support an entire family on this income, which would be unheard of in the States!  But I can't argue with them that it is better than zero.  On top of this, across all industries, employees go for months between paychecks.  If you worked for 4 months without getting paid, would you still show up the next day?  Unfortunately, the Zimbabweans who are lucky enough to have a job are essentially left without a choice. So in light of making $2/day, try to understand how most things in the grocery store are similar prices to our grocery stores in Minnesota, with many things even being more expensive!  Bread is a lot cheaper at $0.90 per loaf, but shampoo is extremely expensive at about $13.00 per bottle!  As far as what you can buy at the store, you can find almost everything and anything here in the store as you can in the States, it just might take an entire day of canvassing 5 different stores.  :)  The only thing that we have noticed as being completely unavailable is Mexican food (taco shells, taco seasoning, tortilla chips, salsa…).  They have great avocados everywhere for $0.30 each, but no one has ever heard of guacamole.  Aside from the typical grocery store, and also the bulk-style stores (similar to Sam's Club), they also have markets.  Markets are usually open-air and consist of old sheets or fertilizer bags strung between sticks to partition off each shop.  Oftentimes they have a thatched roof or sometimes just a ripped tarp draped over the top.  You can buy anything at the market from flip flops or a new suit, to nail polish, shower gel, cabbage, or a bag of oranges.  I have to be in the right mood to shop at the markets because as a white American, you have to be ready for every shop owner harassing you with their goods.  Most people are respectful and after a polite “no, thank you,” they will leave you alone, but I just feel bad that I can’t buy from everyone.  Erik, on the other hand, looooooves the markets.  He loves to talk to anyone and everyone who approaches him and will always try to negotiate lower prices for whatever he can.  We have a small shack called the “Tack shop” at the hospital that sells a variety of things.  Bread, sweets, pop, juice syrup, laundry soap, shower soap, tin foil, toilet paper, and a few other items are available, which is convenient since we're 30 minutes from the next town on rough roads and an hour to Marondera if you need a grocery store (though you still need to go to Harare - 2 hours - for most things).  We love to go get a pop to share and sit on the small veranda in front of the shack.  People come and go all day, sitting and drinking their pops because you have to return the glass bottle before you leave.  The glass bottles are then picked up and reused.  Just adjacent to the veranda you will almost always find a heated game of checkers going on.  They made a checkers board out of plastic scrap and a black permanent marker.  The checkers pieces are old bottle tops grouped into two colors.

Many people here still cook over fires.  Even if you have electricity in Zim, the electric company can shut off the electricity at any time for any reason.  It’s not uncommon for the electricity to go off at least once a day and be off for several hours.  Sometimes the electricity will go off for days at a time, which will also affect the water due to the electric pumps.  What amazes me is how these people, who have absolutely no electricity or running water in the house (which means no kitchen sink, no shower, no toilet), come to work every day looking like a million bucks!  On the days when I don’t get a shower and the mornings when I’m freezing cold because it got down to 30 degrees F the night before and there was no heat, I don’t feel like getting up and dressing up in high heels, nylons, lipstick, and everything.  Zimbabweans are extremely tough and extremely happy.  I have never heard one person complain about one thing for the past five months we’ve been here.  The epitome of resiliency.

This Zimbabwean road abruptly came to an end.  Erik, convinced that we
could cross the water, had to brave crocodiles and snakes wading to
test how deep the water was.  We went through it and the road continued
on the other side.  Just part of everyday life!

One thing we Americans notice and complain about almost instantly after arriving in Zim are the bad road conditions.  Pot holes galore!  The roads are often dirt and if they're tarred, they only have one lane, so you drive on the tar until you meet a car and then you both have to put two tires in the dirt.  The dirt roads here are called “dust roads,” and if you drive with your windows down you’ll soon find out why!  Many of the road signs are similar here to the States, but the street lights are referred to as “robots” (pronounced row-boats).  Most robots in Zim don’t work, so it’s always a guessing game as to who goes first.  In downtown Harare, everyone just goes at the same time, which makes for a huge road jam in the intersection all hours of the day.  Somehow everyone makes it out of there, weaving in and out of both going and oncoming traffic. Another thing I've noticed is you don't "honk" your horn, you "hoot" your horn.

There are plenty of gas stations here, however, it’s hard to find one that actually has gas!  Gas here is referred to as “petrol” and is very, very, very expensive – over $5.30/gallon!  I don’t know how anyone affords to drive anywhere on a typical income.  Maybe that’s why we see so many vans, called “buses,” and they are always packed full to the brim of people.  People on top of people, even in the back trunk of the van, you often see people plastered against the window.  A few days ago, we even saw people piled on the roof of the van!  Another common site is a “lorry,” or open bed semi-truck, filled with people.  They appropriately call vehicles that transport people, “people movers.”

One of Zimbabwe's nicer tarred roads (note
the one middle lane) and a rock formation
that is similar to the beautiful formations
found allover this country!

Getting pulled over by a policeman is a whole different experience here.  Police don’t drive around or sit in police cars and then pull people over with flashing lights.  Police officers, instead, set up road blocks.  A group of police will be standing across the road at each road block.  Who knows how they pick and choose who they want to pull over (maybe eeny-meanie-mynie-mo), but when they flag you down, you pull over on the side of the road.  If the police don’t have a radar gun or catch you for running a stop sign, then he will typically try to fine you for one thing or another… reflector tape on the bumper is 5 mm too small, no fire extinguisher in the vehicle, driving with your fog lights on, etc.  Fines are written on a ticket, but expected to be paid immediately to the police officer.  The first few months in Zim, I was completely terrified of police stops because I had heard so many horrible stories.  However, with Erik’s driving, we’ve been pulled over a handful of times since we've been here and the police have been so kind.  Erik has even been taken into the police station!!  What we’ve found out by being pulled over so often is that fines are completely negotiable and if you tell them you don’t have cash (which is most likely true), then you’re typically let off for free.  However, bribing is illegal as the government is at least trying to combat corruption, though I do wonder if fines ever go on an official record.  The maximum penalty for traffic violation or vehicle road-worthiness is only $20.00.  All the police officers we’ve interacted with have been so nice and absolutely love it when Erik speaks Shona with them.  (edit by Erik: for the record, I had to go to the police station in order to swipe to pay a $10 fine and not for any other reason other than the officers on the street didn't have a swipe machine.)

This elephant crossed the road right in front of us!

We’ve traveled as much as we can around Zimbabwe.  The country is so beautiful with lots of rolling hills, rocky mountains, rivers, large dams, all different kinds of grasses, trees, and wildflowers. Something Zim is known for are their huuuuuuge boulder rocks that are balancing on other huuuuuge boulder rocks.  They are everywhere!  The land itself is rich with many resources and at one time, Zimbabwe was a leading country in the farming industry and exports.  Now, though, nice farms are few and far between and are usually successful because the farm has enough money to have irrigation.  Wild animals are all over the place and it’s still a thrill for us when we have to stop the car because elephants or monkeys are crossing the road!  Several of the farms actually have zebras and impala, too.

While visiting friends on a farm, we had zebras come almost all the way up
onto their deck!

There are very, very wealthy people in Zim and very, very poor people in Zim.  The size of the chasm between these two socioeconomic statuses is simply sad.  The decision to participate in hobbies or interests depend a lot on finances for most.  Golfing seems like it used to be popular here, but now most of the courses are empty when we drive by.  We have found a few coffee shops in Harare.  Fishing is also a hobby for some and boating (for the upper class) in places like Kariba.  Things like swimming and water skiing is a little less common because of all the crocodiles!  Soccer, which they call "football," is obviously a huge sport here.  We found one movie theater in an upscale shopping district in Harare, which is a really a nice place!  Harare has several decent restaurants with decent service, but there aren't many and you have to ask around to see if a restaurants worth trying.  There are only a few fast food type chains, like Chicken Inn, Fish Inn, Creamy Inn (ice cream), and Pizza Inn.  The most ironic thing about these “fast” food places is that there really isn’t anything very “fast” about them!  After you order, it isn’t common to wait 20-30 minutes until you get your food.  There is also no drive through, except at a KFC that is located in Harare.  Other than KFC, there are no American restaurants here.  You might be astonished that there are no McDonalds in Zimbabwe!

soccer at the mission - social games and a prayer session after are held every
Tuesday and Thursday evening

Zimbabwe has all the regular places as most cities – post offices, parks, hospitals, clinics, malls, pharmacies, libraries, schools, universities, etc.  The standards are a lot different here, though, so at first all I could see were the imperfections.  The longer we’ve been here, the more normal it all seems.  There is no Walmart or Target, which has been hard because we’re so used to going to one store to get anything and everything we need.  Here, you have to run all over the place to 50 different places just to get a few things that you’re looking for.  They have an “OK Mart,” which is similar to K Mart in the States, but not quite as good.

the boys learning knife safety at cub scouts

We live about two hours from Harare.  For me, living out on the mission has been such a blessing.  We’re close enough to get into the bigger city whenever we want to, but far enough out of the bigger city where we can get more of a glimpse of village life.  Our boys have joined Cub Scouts and a shooting club, where we have been able to meet several friends.  We’ve also enjoyed getting to know our church family here at Nhowe and starting many new things for them here, like Friday night movie night!

setting up for movie night at the hospital

our first movie night - with over 50 people there

Coming to Zimbabwe has been one of the very best decisions Erik and I have ever made and something I will never ever regret doing.  Six months just doesn’t seem long enough, though.  I’m already dreading the goodbyes to the Zimbabweans who have become like family.  I’m looking at our to-do list and wishing we’d have just a few more months to accomplish a little more here.  The great relationships and the projects left to complete inspire me to come back again soon, though – and bring others along, too!

Before posting, I asked Maida to write down a few things that came to her mind about things that may be different between the States and Zim.  I was surprised to see that she came up with several things that I forgot to mention!  Here is her list:

U.S.A. / Zim
1.  Sudza for every meal.
2. Tea everyday at 10:00 [The whole world stops for tea time!  School gets let out and kids go home, workers all over the country pause what they are doing, and everyone has tea and bread.]
3. Lunch isn't until 2:00 or 3:00pm. Dinner isn't until 8:00 or 9:00pm.
4. Cows wander around and often eat our laundry hanging on the line!
5. Lots of dogs run around stray.[As a whole, Zimbabweans do not like dogs.  They are terrified of our Simba on the mission.]
6. Instead of using guns for hunting, lots of times they use a pack of dogs.
7. "dust" roads instead of dirt roads
8. electricity and water goes out at random
9. Their school year is completely different than ours. They start their new school year in January and instead of having a long summer break like we do, they get a month off in August and a month off in December.

Simba, almost 60 pounds at only 4 months old!

10. There are exams at the end of every term and if the school kids don't pass, they get kicked out of school!  [There are so may children here who don't make it passed 6th grade.]
11. They cram lots of  people into mini vans.
12. They have game parks, not zoos.
13. There are a lot of Shona words ending in "akanaka." [Also, all Shona words end in a vowel.]
14. In some places monkeys run around wild.
15. hospitals have outdoor halls

No Need to Fear

One of the things I enjoy about being here in Zimbabwe is the quality time I get to spend with the kids.  It seems like almost every day, we are able to sit and genuinely talk together.  I love hearing what’s in their hearts.  Another thing I enjoy about being here with the kids is serving along side them.  It's been a gift to watch them blossom through serving and teaching others.

Last week, Maida came to me, wanting to talk.  She had just come in from talking with one of her good friends here at Nhowe and she wanted to share with me the conversation.  I was extremely touched by what she shared.  There is a lot I can learn from my kids and being able to share my faith openly and freely, without hesitation, is one of those things.  I asked Maida to share her conversation from that day here on the blog...

Don’t let anyone look down on you because you are young, but set an example for the believers in speech, in conduct, in love, in faith and in purity. -  1 Timothy 4:12

I was sitting with Bea on her veranda and then suddenly she said, “I’m afraid of everything.  Think of something… like this floor of the veranda, for example.  If someone slipped on this, they could actually die on it!”  Then she pointed and said, “Look at this brick pillar right here. If someone ran into it, they could get really bad hurt.  People could actually die on this, too.”

I noticed how upset she was getting while she talked.  I asked if she was afraid of water and she said, “YES, don’t even say water!  I’m scared to death of water.  People actually drown in water!”

Then I asked if she was afraid of fire and she said, “Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?  You can get burned on fire.”  Then she held up a spoon that she was holding, “Look at this spoon!  If I gave this spoon to a one year old, she could think it was a toy or something, put it in her mouth, and choke and die!”

I asked if there was anything she wasn’t afraid of.  She said, “I’m afraid of every single little thing in this world.  Even pretty things, like flowers - they can be poisonous.  In the grass, there can be snakes hiding.”  She paused for a minute and then said, “Someone once told me that there isn’t anything you can’t be afraid of and I believe it.”

I thought back to a conversation I had had with a friend back home and I shared with Bea, “One of my friends once told me that the only thing to fear is fear itself.”

She was deep in thought as she was playing with a rubix cube.  After a while she asked, “Are you afraid of this rubix cube?  Like, what if someone came and took a square off, left it, and then a tiny kid came along and chocked on it and died?”

I shook my head and asked her if she knew the story of Joseph and the coat of many colors from the Bible.  I told her about how God can take bad things and turn them good. Like how Joseph got thrown in a pit by his brothers and sold, but eventually he turned into a leader in Egypt. She didn’t know the story, but I could tell that she was intently listening when I told it to her.  I explained to her that God is with us and we can ask for help through prayer, anytime we need to. I encouraged her to think about Heaven because everything in this world is temporary.  I told her that we won’t be here forever and we don’t need to fear when we have Jesus.  I hope I encouraged her, taught her more about Jesus, and showed her that we don't need to fear because God is always here.