dimanche 11 novembre 2012

Like Glastonbury in Africa


It’s 9pm local time, and it’s pitch black. An annoying ringtone pierces the silence, otherwise unbroken but for the tapping of keys as I return, fed, showered and ready to blog about an extremely exciting weekend far outside Bujumbura. Prepare yourself.

The Build-Up
Sorry that I’ve been off the radar for a while, it’s not because I don’t love you guys, I’ve just been busy (lazy.) My most exciting experiences so far in Burundi, or perhaps in my life, have just happened, so I feel a blog is in order. I’ll try to keep it short even though it covers more stuff than usual!

No complaints on the work front: loving teaching ICT and guiding the kids through programs such as ‘Paint’ and ‘Rapid Typing’. Soon we’ll be able to put their newfound skills to use, which is exciting. My Tuesday afternoon choir is also thriving, and we’re starting preparations for the Christmas celebration. Some pure quality voices in there, trying my best not to be upstaged.

I’m rapidly spending less and less time at home, as it looks like I’m going to be busier and busier until I return to England on the 29th December, but that’s ok. It’s easier to function as a family unit when we’re not treading on each other’s toes all the time, and each of us has our own life outside the house. Makes the time when we are together more special.

Escape from the city #1
Last week I was given the opportunity to take a much-anticipated trip to Gitega, Burundi’s ‘second city’ – probably about the same size as Crowborough, my home town. We were taken to visit some of the children rescued by the Restoration of Hope street children project, and it was a brilliant experience. The twelve children we met were so fun, so full of joy and so eager to meet and greet visitors that it was impossible to tell that they were born on the street. The project is an incredible demonstration of God’s love, and you should have seen the kids’ conviction in praying for our meal that day (savoury bananas and beans!), and how excited they got to worship when I got my guitar out, despite the language barrier! The song I kicked off with is actually called ‘I get excited (when I think about God)’, so isn’t it a blessing that language isn’t a barrier to Him? In fact I loved being deafened by the kids’ brilliant Kirundi version of ‘Jesus’ love is very wonderful’. I’d love to visit them again, and this project is one I’d love to fundraise for. Expect to hear more about it in the future.

Escape from the city #2: The Wild Weekend
We’ve been blessed enough to set up a cell/home group for ex-pats, with whom we meet once a week. It was in such a meeting that I was asked on Thursday night if I wanted to go back up country on Friday afternoon. Having been aching to go back for five days solid – a surprisingly long time – I saw it as an answer to prayer and accepted, not really knowing what I was letting myself in for. The preparation advice I was given wasn’t too encouraging; ‘You’ll have the opportunity to preach for 30-40 minutes... I’m not sure what we’ll eat... If you have a portable mosquito net, best bring it... Last week I got seriously dehydrated, bring water... Better bring a loo roll.’ I left school on Friday lunchtime feeling rather unprepared and a little apprehensive... But God had a much better plan.

The journey up to Ngozi, a small town three hours from Bujumbura, was a mixed one. Pleasant conversation with our Burundian translator (his first question was ‘are you still a bachelor?’) was disrupted by the occasional stop for bananas or a bit of overcooked corn. The scent of petrol from the portable generator mixed with the whiff of the ever-growing pile of banana skins honestly made me want to show everyone what I had for lunch, and none of this was helped by the twisting mountain roads which feel much faster than they are.

However, the journey remained vomit-free and we arrived safely, if a little queasy, at our hotel... At least, a building which had ‘hotel’ written on the outside. Imagine a travel lodge, then put it in Burundi and remove anything pleasant about it, and you might have a rough idea of the situation. There wasn’t running water, and a very questionable towel hung over the bathroom door, but there was a bed, a mosquito net and a table. What more does a preacher need?

That’s right, you read correctly. This weekend I really was commissioned to preach in four different areas which, to be frank, I would’ve said was crazy 72 hours earlier. I’m a singer, not a speaker. When I speak into a microphone, I frequently worry that I’m going to say something inappropriate, and at the end hope and pray that I didn’t offend anyone. But God’s plan was a bit better than that. On Saturday, myself and a friend of mine from Buj spoke in a breakfast cafe to the pastors of the local churches, my chosen topic being ‘what is worship?’ It was extremely encouraging and stopped my shaking legs when one pastor stood up at the end and told me that his church had been struggling with worshipping outside the service, and this message had come at the perfect time. God’s work, not mine – I didn’t know I’d be going this weekend!

We spoke to a meeting of about 600 students afterwards, to which I brought the messages taught to us by the story of the Lost Son (Luke 15), my personal favourite. As a rookie speaker, I realised I couldn’t go wrong with explaining a message given directly to us by Jesus. I brought the same message to a rural church later that afternoon, where we remained until dark. This church hosted the poorest people I’ve ever met, probably the poorest in Burundi – which makes them the poorest in the world. This didn’t stop them from worshipping God, though, far from it. Their choir was ridiculously loud.

Here’s the most exciting bit: Scripture Union Burundi goes to different parts of the country with a portable generator, speaker, screen and projector, with which the team shows one of a variety of videos to a crowd who gather from surrounding towns and villages. On Friday night, my first experience of ‘The Jesus Video’ (a 1970s-made account of the gospel of Luke, translated into over 2,000 languages worldwide) was encouraging, with around 1,000 people – it’s quite hard to tell in the dark – appearing from nowhere to watch and potentially hear the gospel for the first time in their mother tongue. Yesterday night, however, was something else; people simply kept appearing, and I’m told it was one of the biggest turnouts since the start of the project all those years ago. Between 5 and 6,000 seems a sensible estimate for how many people there were gathered around a screen in a muddy field. It was like Glastonbury in Africa. Hallelujah?

The weekend wasn’t even over at this point, there was more to come. So far when I’d preached, it’d been for about 20 minutes, a comfortable amount of time for me to bring a short, memorable message. Imagine my surprise when I was told that in this morning’s church service, not only would I be separated from the rest of the SU group, but I’d be expected to preach for at least 45 minutes in keeping with the traditional service plan. A lot of preparation took place both last night and this morning as I wrapped together the messages of the prodigal son, what worship means, and living our worshipful lives as if we’re running a race. (Hebrews 12:1)

Now imagine how incredible it was to hear the church’s pastor mid-way through interpreting my message say to me that my time was nearly up, just as I was drawing to a close. Somehow, I had miraculously prepared the perfect amount of material, and the nodding heads of my congregation showed me that at least most of what I said wasn’t heresy. I wonder how that came about.

Just some thoughts...
I don’t want to miss this opportunity to mention some thoughts on the big news stories of the past couple of weeks which tie in to the fact that being in Africa changes my perspective considerably. I will continue to pray that one day the situation in Burundi, the hungriest country in the world, where life expectancy is under 45, will receive as much media coverage as Hurricane Sandy did when it tragically claimed over 40 American lives.

Another TV statistic really caught my eye, and I have a question: If Messers Obama and Romney had spent their $2 billion of campaign money, most of which was spent on self-promotion and attacking their opponents via adverts, on a worthwhile cause such as saving lives, would the result have been any different? We can only wonder.

I’ve got a lot more to say on these issues, but that’s another blog entirely. Plus, I’d quite like to upload this one this evening to follow through with my claim that it would follow my Facebook status. Let’s make sure, however, that while we support the victims of the suffering that we see on the TV, we remember those who have never seen a camera or a microphone, and are forced to suffer in silence. There are more of them than we could imagine.

To wrap up
That’ll do from me tonight, I think I’ve conveyed my excitement at everything that’s been going on. I’ve also enjoyed snippets of pure comedy in my everyday life here. Seeing a 20-year old man in a bright pink Hannah Montana T-Shirt was definitely a highlight, not to mention seeing someone jogging along with a table balanced on his head. However, nothing beats today’s experience, when one of the Burundians travelling with us decided to buy a live chicken and keep it in the back of the van, where it promptly sat down, clucked, and enjoyed the ride of its life.

This morning I preached on how important it is not only to sing praises to God, but to listen to Him too. What is our relationship with Him if we speak, but don’t listen? Here are some incredible lyrics encouraging us to listen and wait on God. Be blessed.

My heart is restless, let peace wash over me.
Lost in distractions, but You, God, I will seek.

I will wait for You, I will wait for You.
Let my heart be still, for You are God.
You are always good, Lord, forever kind.
I will trust and know that You are God.  – Nikki Fletcher – Wait For You

Yesu Ashimwe.
(Praise Jesus!)