“Ndungu wa mu Munyinyi!”

 

Is it possible to die from eating too much chicken?  Recently I spent two weeks in Lubumbashi, the second largest city in the Democratic Republic of Congo.  When traveling and being hosted by others, we are always reminded of the extravagant hospitality offered by Congolese sisters and brothers.  After worship on the second Sunday of this particular trip, we were taken to the home of Elder Mutombo Francois and Mamu Odja Marie and served a lavish meal.  After praying for the family, we were whisked away by some Congolese friends who also wanted to “bless” us with drinks to celebrate coupled with another meal.  While with them at the Guest House of Mamu Rita, we learned that the home where I was staying was preparing another meal for us as well that evening.  My friend Pastor Mboyamba and I looked at each other knowingly, rebelling in our spirits – no, not another meal!

We prayed for the home of Elder Mutombo
after being served a wonderful meal

 
Just two days prior I had been served five meals, and multiple times I felt bloated and sick to my stomach through the night having been served multiple meals.  Kristi once was obliged to eat eight times in one day when we stayed with Pastor Mukendi in the Lukonga Commune of Kananga.  On a trip between Luebo and Mueka we were obliged to eat at every church where we stopped.  We probably made 8-10 stops that day. 

At this point you might be wondering if I have read the Boundaries book by Cloud and Townsend.  You might also be wondering if it is okay to say “no” to a meal here and there.  In some cases it is okay to say no, but you must have a very good reason.  Responding to Congolese hospitality is like walking a high tight-wire.  It requires skill, tact, diplomacy and love.  The basic rule for survival is this – eat enough to not offend and usually not more because the next meal might be right around the corner.  I, unfortunately, cannot say that I always follow this rule – it is easy to forget when such good food is placed before you and your host and colleagues encourage you to take that last piece of chicken.  Traveling is the worst, because you have the least control of your schedule. 

Tatu Giyomme took us out to Chinese! (Lubumbashi)

A while back on a trip to Tshimbulu (towards Lubondai) Pastor Mboyamba taught us an expression which encapsulates so well the tension we face.  In Tshiluba, we say “Ndungu wa mu munyinyi.”  Translated literally, it means “the hot spice tucked under the meat.”  Figuratively, the expression has this connotation – “A good and pleasant thing can, indeed, spell suffering.” 

The good and pleasant gifts of hospitality we receive in Congo can, at times, feel jarring.  Being the victims of extravagant hospitality, especially while traveling, can tax our minds, bodies and spirits.  However, receiving hospitality is a form of inclusion and a way of blessing a home and a family.  The Congolese like to say that a home that doesn’t have visitors is a home that dies.  Thankfully, as we learn to adapt and survive in Congo, we have this expression we can quietly and discreetly share with each other after we smile and accept another plate of bidia, chicken, greens, goat meat, rice, beans, plantains, and fruit.  “Ndungu wa mu munyinyi!”  

Jingling Bracelets

“In our culture, we have a saying”, explained Mamu Luta. “‘one bracelet doesn’t jingle’. Women want to wear several metal bracelets at once so that they will make a sound. When we work together, we make a beautiful ‘sound’, But alone, we are nothing to be proud of.” She was presenting a banner to the Sheppards and Lapsley presbytery celebrating ten years of partnership with the Nganza and Tshibashi presbyteries in Congo. On the banner was a painting of a woman, showing one arm with several bracelets, and the other arm hiding because it only had one bracelet.

Last week I had the privilege of traveling for a couple of days with the Tshibashi and Nganza presbyteries as they hosted two representatives of the Sheppards and Lapsley presbytery from Alabama, helping out with translation. It was incredible to see our colleagues pull out all the stops in welcoming and caring for their visitors. On the first day of the visit, both presbyteries held a joint worship service. It was remarkably short by Congo standards (just one hour), but there was dancing and joy such as I have rarely seen in Congo. It has been several years since members of the Alabama presbytery had been able to come to Congo, so this was a much-anticipated visit.

Nganza and Tshibashi presbyteries cover a wide area near Kananga, and it was significantly meaningful to each of the parishes for the visitors to see their church. So, each day the leadership here sought to introduce their visitors to as many churches, schools, and activities as possible. I’m sure that as we lurched along over Congo’s notorious dusty roads in the bright sun, it began to feel like a blur to Billy and Lynn. But they valiantly and gracefully persevered. We heard a similar message over and over again in so many places “This school now has an office and latrines because of the partnership. We got these school benches or church benches through the presbytery partnership. Roof sheets for that church were given through the partnership. The land for this office/school/church was purchased with help from Sheppards and Lapsley.” The variety of things that have been accomplished in the last 10 years is remarkable. And what impressed me most is that nearly all the churches in the two presbyteries had received something significant, according to their need. In Congo it might be tempting to focus the attention on the churches of the leadership or on those that were largest. But a joint team of both presbyteries has tried to include everyone in this partnership, as challenging as that is. This means there are still plenty of needs and priorities of things to be done, but it does appear that they are on the right path. I don’t think that there were any complete churches or schools built with partnership funds, which leaves a significant (and perhaps good) challenge in the hands of the Congolese to not depend completely on their US partners.

Most of the church buildings we pulled up to would have palm branches posted 100 yards out as a sign of welcome. Women were dancing and singing their greeting out front as soon as they saw the vehicle. All the leaders were assembled, and as soon as we were introduced, the pastor would read a short prepared greeting and word of thanks to the visitors. Often, people would give gifts – hand-crafted wooden objects, horns or skins of animals, or gifts of food. A real outpouring of generosity and expression of thanks for the partnership. At one church they even gave a dish of live termites. Lynn leaned over and asked “And why would we want termites?” “For a snack!” I replied, and she responded “Ah yes. Of course.” I remember driving toward one school, and 200 yards away we could see the flashes of color from the children assembled in rows out front who were waving their folders as they sang a song of welcome. Incredible.

Members sing their greeting to the guests at Kapanda parish. The land for this church
was bought with support through their partnership with Sheppards and Lapsley

Each day over lunch, there was time for discussion with some of the church members and leaders. There were some good exchanges as members on both sides tried to understand the vastly different context of the other. As they shared their typically weekly schedule of worship, The Americans were amazed that one CPC parish gathers every morning at 6:30am for morning worship. The Congolese, in turn, were impressed at the outreach and generosity of this small US congregation. One Congolese elder inquired, “At the end of a Pastor’s term, there is often accusations and vying for position from others who want to be the pastor in his parish.  Does that happen in the U.S.?” Other questions included “How do you keep your youth interested and involved in church?”

From our experience here, cross-cultural church or presbytery partnerships are challenging to do well. In addition, there are about 100 presbyteries in the CPC and only 3 with partnerships, which of course means it is not going to be an effective means of bringing assistance to the church as a whole. This is one reason that we see our role as being a support and resource for the whole church. However, all that said, I do commend the leadership of Tshibashi and Nganza for their hard work to maintain this partnership and and organize a comprehensive visit this week for their guests!

The ‘traveling team”, including Pastor Tshiyoyo, Pastor Mukendi, Billy and Lynn,
along with Mamu Helene on the left (Pastor Mukendi’s wife)

Sunday visit to Ditekemena

Mukendi waved his arms dramatically and added some dancing as he directed the choir. I could tell by the applause and the number of people who stood up to join the dancing that the rag-tag group of kids was a big hit in the church service. This was the Ditekemena choir, made up of kids in the Ditekemena program for street kids. They were wearing all the wrong clothes, but their faces were radiant and they were incredibly attentive and behaved during the service.

After the service, Ruth and I joined the group of kids on their long walk back to the center where they are currently living. All 23 kids made a single-file line and made sure that no one was left behind. One of the older ones helped the others to cross the street one at a time. We headed down a narrow path into the valley and crossed a small river before heading up the other side to the center.

It was a hot afternoon and we were glad for some shade when we arrived. We joined the kids for a big plate of beans and rice for lunch, and then told them we wanted them to teach us some of their games. They proudly showed us the games they had – some home-made, like a game like “mancala” with holes made in the dirt – and others donated by kind folks like a couple of frisbees and a checker board. The older boys played soccer, and I enjoyed sitting with the younger kids cheering them on. Kanku, a young boys who is handicapped (probably because of polio) and had been sick recently, was eager to participate and even sang me a song! Then Tatu Francois, one of the care-takers, told the older boys to take a break and give the younger kids a chance to play. The girls and younger boys played together, and they really went after the ball with gusto!

Ruth and I were sad to have to leave – it felt like a short visit! But we had to get home before dark and had a long walk back across the valley to catch the bus. One of the most striking things about this group of kids is how well-behaved they are, given their difficult backgrounds. They have only been together a little over a month, but they act like family and play together incredibly well. Pastor Manyayi, their director, said that when they first came it was a struggle to get them to obey, but that they have made a dramatic change in a short time. Even so, taking care of 23 kids is not an easy task, and their care-takers are often exhausted by the added strain of sick kids or added responsibilities that come up. Please pray for these kids, that they would really know God’s love and that God would protect and provide for a bright future for them. Pray also for the staff, for God’s peace and strength to fill them as they seek to provide a safe place for the children.

Behind the Beautiful Forevers

In a slight divergence from life in Congo, I’d like to tell you about a book that I finished reading last week. It was significantly moving and enlightening, and I saw lots of parallels to the lives of people around us here in Congo. The book is Behind the Beautiful Forevers: life, death, and hope in a Mumbai undercity by Katherine Boo.

Behind the Beautiful Forevers was an excellent book, in turns moving and frustrating, really drawing me into the lives of those in the Annawadi slum. I was drawn in to the life of Abdul and the Hussain family as they dream and work steadily for a better life through reselling recyclable materials found by scavengers. I felt for Manju as she struggled with her mother’s lust for power at the expense of their neighbors. I found it frustrating to read, at times, because the injustice, corruption, impact of poverty, and jealousy of neighbors that is described so well seemed too “close to home” and similar to the struggles that I see around us here in Congo. It was not the novel to read for a “refreshing escape”.

That said, Katherine Boo often articulated someone’s mindset or revealed the broader impact of certain events in a poignant and insightful way. She put words to things that I had vaguely sensed but failed to yet put together the puzzle pieces or articulate the truth. One such quote is “Among the poor, there was no doubt that instability fostered ingenuity, but over time the lack of a link between effort and result could become debilitating. ‘We try so many things,’ as one Annawadi girl put it, ‘but the world doesn’t move in our favor.’” (Page 219). As we see families struggling against the impending destruction of their slum, they continue to fall victim to exploitation by others with slightly more advantage– sometimes even neighbors. Boo reflects, “Instead, powerless individuals blamed other powerless individuals for what they lacked. Sometimes they tried to destroy one another. Sometimes, like Fatima, they destroyed themselves in the process. When they were fortunate, like Asha, they improved their lots by beggaring the life chance of other poor people.”

I admit that I read this on Kindle and received it as a gift from a family member, and thought, all the way through the book, that it was a novel. But the most profound thing about Behind the Beautiful Forevers is revealed in the author’s note at the end – that all the people, events, names and conversations in this book are true. The intense research and reporting that Boo did over the course of 3 years in the slum of Annawadi is incredible. The realization that this is the life story of a real community gives weight to the experiences of the people we meet in the book. This is not a generalization or just the perception of a writer of what the impact of poverty might be like in a slum. Boo’s intense reporting to convey the real life experiences, combined with her experience as a journalist reporting on other poor communities certainly gives her the ability and authority to articulate the impact of poverty as she does so well. This is one of many books that significantly help those of us who don’t fall under the poverty line in our respective countries to understand the lives of those who bear the brunt of the impact of poverty.

Even if, like me, you have not yet been to India, I highly recommend this book! And if you do read it or have read it already, I would love to hear your reflections!

Liberation Day

Last week I was at Improka, the CPC printing press, chatting with some of the staff about the songbooks they were producing for us. They told me that Saturday was a holiday in Congo, so the workshop would be closed. I asked what the holiday was. “To celebrate the coming of AFDL into Congo.” was the response, “Do you know AFDL?” I had to admit that I didn’t – political history is not my strong suit. They explained that AFDL was the party/group headed by “Kabila the father” (Laurent Kabila), which overthrew Mobutu’s government in 1997. “Those soldiers beat, killed, and whipped lots of people when they came. It was terrible! A time of real suffering – even here in Kananga.” We had been joking around a few minutes before, so at first I wasn’t sure how serious they were. In French the word they use for holiday, “férié”, sounded to me to connote celebration; so I asked, somewhat facetiously, if the purpose of the “holiday” was to remember the suffering they had experienced. They laughed and seemed to think this idea was tremendously funny. Then Mamu Mbuyi, the Director of Administration for Improka walked into the workshop, and one of the staff added “Even Mamu Mbuyi – they almost killed her! They hunted for her and threatened to kill her. She really suffered!”

I asked Mamu Mbuyi to tell me what had happened. “The soldiers came to have some letters typed and printed at Improka. I saw the letters, and realized that they were orders to kill various people. I was horrified, and realized that as part of the church we couldn’t print such letters. I showed them to the Director (Mukulu Ntumba), and we refused to print them. The soldiers got mad, and wouldn’t take ‘no’ for an answer. They sent an official summons for me to come to their headquarters, and delivered it with about 10 soldiers.” Those soldiers came three times over a weekend looking for her. When she arrived on Monday morning, Director Ntumba took her to the governor’s office to see how they could get her out of this. Paradoxically, her husband was a district president for the AFDL party, and that is the only reason the soldiers were willing to let her off. They told her directly that if that hadn’t been the case, she would have died.

Later in the day, Pastor Mboyamba stopped by our house. We said we had heard that Saturday was a holiday. “Yes – Liberation Day!” he said. “Liberation Day??” I asked, “I heard that it was a terrible time with a lot of suffering.” “Oh yes. It was!” he quickly responded. “But the government says it is Liberation Day. So, we publicly go with the government line.”

These events are not ancient history. People who are still considered young remember 1997 and some were beaten or whipped when the soldiers came through. It is a sobering reminder of the difficult environment here in Congo and the tenuous security that currently exists in part of the country (and the lack of security that continues to affect the East). Yet, we praise God for the courage and hope that He gives to His people. Mamu Mbuyi is just one example of someone who took a stand against senseless violence. This kind of sacrifice and courage is what is what can help the church and the country to heal and become a place of life rather than a place of suffering.