Eyes to See, Ears to Hear

Archive for November, 2008

This post was intended for this past Tuesday.  Technical difficulties prevented it from happening…

Day 3 – Your world becomes a whole different place without electricity.  It has been over 72 hours since ours went out.  Stuff in the freezer is almost thawed.  Teenagers next to the office ask to charge their cell phones on our generator.  Our gas stove becomes worth its weight in gold.  Whole different place.

On a serious note, please pray it is restored soon. No fridge.  No hot water.  Lanterns stinking up the house at night.  Plus, we don’t feel as safe when it is pitch black all around us.  Too much opportunity for mischief.

Bright side – we have my little generator (110V) that is powering our modem and wireless router.  Hence my ability to post this!  Not all bad after all.

Here is some more video of the lions we saw having a snack.  In this clip you can here one calling out to another in the background.  Their sound vibrated the car.

No Electricity

It’s been out since yesterday afternoon.  If we go into tomorrow without it, we’ll (well… Dana will) be cooking everything in our freezer.  What happened?  The main transformer for ALL OF MBEYA and a neighboring town blew up.  Don’t know if it sizzled and evaporated or burst into wild flames, but never-the-less, they have sent reinforcement repairmen from Dar es Salaam.  I’m on the internet at the office where we have a generator running the DSL modem and wireless router.

Lesson learned: Don’t take gifts from God for granted… cherish them, thank Him for tonight you could be sitting in the dark.

On our recent trip to Nakuru National Park in Kenya, we came across a few lionesses and a cub having their meal.  Here’s the video but I warn that it is graphic.  Not too bad.  Just be cautious if you have a weak stomach.

Watch their lunchtime here.

another bicycle

Back around mid-year, we bought a used bicycle for each of Mama Ima’s (our househelp) two oldest children.  They live a long way from their respective schools and basically had to run to school and back for an hour everyday.

Not long after Imanueli (oldest; son) had his bike, his father rode it to an ATM one evening.  By the time he turned around from the machine, the bike was gone, quickly snatched by a mwizi (thief).  Imanueli was heart broken.

While we were in Nairobi, we visited Nakumatt, kind of like an African Wal-Mart, or an attempt at one.  They had a nice selection of bikes so we decided to try to find a replacement for Imanueli.  The one we picked out (brand new) actually cost about $12 less than the used one we bought for him in Mbeya.

I had to disassemble it to make it fit in the car with all our junk and travel the 3-day journey home.  I finally re-assembled it today and delivered it to him.  He smiled from the time I pulled up to his house until the time I drove away… and probably still is now…

Weird combination, huh?  Maybe.  Maybe not.  I say that because that was me.  I got Theo when I was 26 and just beginning to again acknowledge God in my life.  Theo has been there through some of the biggest parts of my life: my return to God, my marriage to Dana, our call to the mission field, the birth of Asher, our move to Mbeya, and the beginning of vernacular media in the language project here.

Yesterday, after 11 hours on the road with 4 more to go, I called the office to ask about a small problem I was having with my cell phone.  Our project team leader and neighbor took the opportunity to talk to me on the phone.  “Jonathan, I wanted to catch you before you arrived back home.  I have a bit of sad news,” he said in his British accent.  He went on to describe how Theo and Teddy had escaped through a gap in the fence of our backyard while we were gone.  Theo, being inquisitive and friendly found the pack of compound guard dogs and went to greet them.  There was a fight and Theo was hurt badly.  The Belgian paramedic in House 1 here on the compound tended to his wounds and was hopeful he would survive.  Kay, our landlord, took Theo and Teddy into her house to stay for the night and was awakened to Teddy’s bark around 5am.  She went to check on them and discovered that my little 7-pound furry white friend had died in his sleep.

They buried him that day down below our house in a nice little grave covered with small gravel.  We visited it this morning accompanied by heavy hearts and tear-streaked cheeks.

It has amazed me how a small animal has brought me to my knees.  I have cried extremely hard because Theo will be missed very, very much.  He was a once in a lifetime dog to me and his shadow is around every corner in the house.  It will take a while to adjust to not having him around but we look and hope to see how God is going to give us strength and how He will use this to bring us closer to Him.

In the eternal perspective of things, Theo was just a dog.  An animal.  A pet.  He had no eternal destination unlike the people I’m here to love and serve.  Losing Theo made me realize that I value my pet dog, my luxury, at points in my life my idol (bad thing), more than I value the people here who are so different from me.  This is a struggle. A big one.

As soon as we arrived in Nairobi on Monday, Obamania or whatever they call it was way more obvious than I thought it would be.  Bumper stickers.  Billboards.  Newspapers.  All seen on the streets of this enormous city.  What hurts my heart about all of this is not that Kenya supports Obama, but that they’re putting GIGANTINORMOUS amount of hope in him. The media here has hyped up our election so much, false hope has spawned.  For instance, on the news over here one of the news stations interviewed some school children in western Kenya.  When asked, “What do you think will happen in Kenya if Obama is elected President of the United States of America?” one child answered, “I believe he’ll send us lots of money and each one of us will get a present.”  I know one little statement by a child can’t be the determining factor in saying it is having a negative impact here, but to see it so widespread with my own eyes and ears… well, it just hurts.  It hurts that at least that child will wait in vain for these American treasures.  It hurts that we now have a president with unrealistic expectations placed upon him.

Please pray for the people of Kenya to not look to us (Americans) in hope nor even to themselves.  It can only start by looking up.  Seriously.