Mad Mamas, Another Loss and time with (the) Pope...

It is hot. Really hot, and the calendar tells me it should be cooling down by my North American standards. Instead the heat will continue to build. The hot weather takes me back to almost a year ago when Bennett’s health started to decline culminating in our unexpected trip home. There are certainly some days here when one or all of us would succumb to the knife for a trip to the States… Is that sick or what? There is no place like home.

Following are some reflections/happenings from the last month in no particular order…(I’ll start with a mostly fun memory to get things off on the right foot…)

Mad elephants, cheap fishing rods and eagles….

A few weeks ago we went with another family deep into Kafue National Part to camp on the Lafupa River. A couple unusual things happened that we will always remember.

First, as we were driving in to the campsite around sunset (when the animals are most active) we came upon a herd of elephant moms and their babies. We proceeded down the dirt track towards them expecting them to do what elephants normally do – ignore you and slowly wander off. Instead, the dominant female came fwd. out of the herd, trumpeted, waved her ears and charged us…I threw the truck into reverse as she came barreling down the road towards us…The kids (and perhaps Molly) were screaming, I’m trying not to go off the road as I reverse, and, once again, asking myself how I find myself here…The elephant pulled up 20 yards shy of us making it very clear that we should not proceed fwd. We waited, she waited. Finally, after 5 or so minutes she started back to the herd only to make one more charge as I slowly pulled fwd. Finally they wandered off and we proceeded. The best line was later that night when Bennett came up to me and said, “Man, Mom and the girls were sure scared…” I did not have the heart to remind him that he was screaming and crying louder than anyone. (We found out later that this particular part of the park had been heavily poached years ago and the elephants remember, thus the charge. We also found out that had she kept charging and caught us that she could have flipped the truck and stomped it to bits…comforting.)

The second memorable thing happened the next day when Bennett and I went fishing. We were trolling lures behind a boat and Bennett insisted on using his toy Mickey Mouse Target fishing pole. I explained to him that when he hooked a big fish the line and/or the pole would break. He insisted so I decided to go with lessons from the law of natural consequences and procceded to put on a cheap lure and cast behind the boat. Not 5 seconds later he had a big fish on and was smiling ear to ear as he reeled with all his might. I was smiling and (smugly) waiting for his line to break when, out of nowhere, a huge fish eagle (the size of a big bald eagle) swooped down and picked up Bennett’s fish…So now, on his toy fishing pole, Bennett is fighting a large fish and a larger eagle who is flying south with his fish…After about 10 yards the eagle drops the fish and Bennett proceeds to land the fish with the biggest smile and sense of satisfaction I think I’ve ever seen. (The fish had a chunk of flesh taken out of his back by the eagle…) Bennett, caught 5 or 6 more fish on his toy rod. What do I know.

Kelvin

Three weeks ago we lost another close friend. Kelvin, our wonderful guard left our house at 6:00 p.m. and was dead that night at 10:00 p.m. No one is sure what he died of, AIDS, TB, Malaria? But the bottom line is that he died from poverty. Living in Africa statistics have names and faces and they play with your kids, and greet you with a smile day in and day out. Statistics leave behind grief stricken wives and kids who wonder how they will now survive when they were barely surviving before their loved one died. Kelvin was a good man – not a statistic – and we miss him very much. We are sick of the death and dying that is so much a part of our life here…Not a week passes where someone we know or someone one step removed from us does not die. When Kelvin died it once again was too close to ignore.

A few days before he died Kelvin helped cut down several trees in our yard. He worked hard on stacking the wood. The next week his family came by to pick up the same wood that we had donated to use for his burial bonfire, a Zambian custom. I’m guessing Kelvin had no idea that the wood he was stacking would be used for his own funeral days later…A solemn reminder for all of us to live each day fully without the delusion that we are some how controlling our own destiny.

Time with (The) Pope and his Crew

Last week we had eight Minnesotans descend on our house for breakfast. What a gift. Chris Pope and a group of friends were here in Lusaka for a night before we headed up to the Democratic Republic of the Congo to visit Kolwezi, a World Vision project that this group has been funding for the last couple years. Several of us had been there 2 years ago so it was great to see the progress that has been made – a brand new school for 700 kids and a water project that is providing clean water to thousands. Anyone who doubts that a small group of people can make a big difference needs to contact any of the guys on this trip….(Dave Anderson, Jeff Steele, Ray Cabillot, Lonny Evans, Matt Paschke, Anthony Zeller and Bill Schmidt)

We then flew down to Livingstone and Victoria Falls where we had a day long adrenaline fest rafting Class V rapids below the falls (if you know any of the guys on this trip, make sure they show you some photos or video of us getting WORKED on the river…) and then bungee jumping off the bridge over the river. Everyone survived and it was great to be with good friends.

Honest Feelings

We try through this blog to share with you the reality of living here. This can be hard at times both because it is confusing and hard to articulate and at other times it is just hard and it is tough to share hard things. We are giving you a pretty honest snap-shot of the ups and downs. Following are some “shared with permission” reflections from Molly’s journal…I’ll let these stand without comment other than to say I’m very proud of my wife.

"Sitting in front of the still pool-- a ripple just went out from some sort of water bug-- made me think of the lake at the cabin. And then the craziness that 9 months from now that will be my reality. Sitting on a green chair down at the dock drinking coffee while Jeff fishes and the sun comes up. Living, breathing, in the land of the rapidly changing seasons-- and all of this will be a mist over a valley-- I'll be sitting on my little mountain top enjoying the fresh air.

What am I going to do with all this? With these faces, with these people? Where do I store this time in my life-- that is so penetratingly real and raw-- but that, even in the midst (let alone when I'm no longer here), can feel like a fuzzy surreal dream.

I'm told to soak it up, to enjoy my days, to live fully, to bloom where I'm planted...How do I do that? Is that o.k.? What does that mean in this context-- where what I'd like to "bloom into" is a Beth Moore Bible Study, lunch with my mom, fall, thanksgiving at the cabin. Where enjoying myself so often means someone who is black, African is serving me-- washing our swim towels, watering our flowers (meanwhile, there is no water in the compounds right now...none...they are walking miles to get a bucket at a time...for cooking, drinking, bathing), opening and closing our gate as we go to and fro...always smiling...

What do they really think of us? It is unfathomable to me that they don't resent us for all that we represent-- unthinkable wealth and freedom of movement...and if they DON'T resent us in some ways that feels worse-- to be o.k. with scraping by, serving white/rich people. I have access to all the best-- even here--and an all-expenses-paid escape plan if that's not enough...and they get by with what they've always known, which is death, disease, a month-to-month fight for survival, for living... Oh, Lord, help us to love well...

Maybe I'm coming to some good, new place...Maybe I'm going over the edge of cynicism. Maybe my heart is finally being broken by what I am witnessing. Maybe what I'm feeling is my skin thickening, hardening, building a shell of protection around me...

God, keep me soft, penetrable, moving in the right direction. Help me love my kids well today, to love Africa well today. To take what comes today as the life You mean to be unfolding in me. Help me to make sense of it all, or if not, to walk trustingly into my day, knowing You're holding me-- that You've known all along about these realities-- that You somehow live with this tension-- so much more than I can fathom. And You love us all. Help me to live a little like that..."

Keep letting us know how you are doing - a one way conversation is no fun. jeff@dykstrafamily.net or molly@dykstrafamily.net.

Thanks for walking with us.

The Dykstra Fam.