May 5
Last full day. Bittersweet really. We are definitely looking forward to being home with a double bed and indoor toilet and fat, healthy dog, but will also definitely miss the joy and love and selflessness and peace here… sitting and reading and writing and praying and resting; going to be when we’re tired and getting up when we wake up; having nothing on the schedule other than casual visits to new friends; having fresh water from a deep bore hole; helping with simple tasks like sorting beans and preparing vegetables; listening to Mrs. Yanjisha as she sings and hums her way through her daysl and seeing a seemingly new desire they have to read the Buku wa Lesa (Bible) after seeing us do the same.
We could never repay the community here for their generosity and hospitality, yet they seem to be the grateful ones – simply because we’re here. We went to visit the Yanjishas’ daughter this morning, and snacked on freshly steamed pumpkin. Apparently people don’t sell pumpkin in Lubofo. If they have it they share it. It seems that way with a lot of things. Money is rarely exchanged – it is much more efficient to trade a chicken for a puppy or groundnuts for maize. They care for the community, like giving half a cabbage to an older woman who stopped by or the awesome way they support so many children through school. And when someone has a visitor (like us), all their friends give gifts of food in appreciation and to help. The Yanjishas have a lot of friends. And every time we go to visit the friends to thank them for a chicken or beans or vegetables, they send us home with more.
These people are missionaries, sharing God’s love and goodness. I’m afraid to see what happens as this area becomes more “developed.” Some might say the people here are living in poverty, but I think they’re the richest people I’ve met… and they’re so self-sustaining in their work, rarely needing to go to town for food or other things we would call “necessities.” They grow everything they need and if they don’t, one of the neighbors does. It’s beautiful really: this place, the people, the joyous contentment. If only we could all be so lucky.
Showing posts with label language. Show all posts
Showing posts with label language. Show all posts
22 May 2011
05 February 2011
Opportunity Knocks... Literally
“Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers, for thereby some have entertained angels unawares.” Hebrews 13:15
Many people say they would gladly do mission work or volunteer or help someone if they knew of the needs – if the opportunities presented themselves.
Here in Zambia, opportunity knocks, multiple times a day.
During our initial period of language learning, we have strict orders from our directors not to commit to any specific ministry. No teaching, no set schedule, no planned activities. We have quickly discovered that language learning itself is a ministry, as is simply living here. Here in Zambia; here in Solwezi; here in what has been known as a mission house for 40 or so years.
Take yesterday (Friday), for example. We started our day at a grammar lesson with one of the veteran missionaries here and thought we would spend our afternoon reviewing our lesson and relaxing a bit, as Monday through Thursday we typically walk out to Kimasala (where our primary ministry will be based) to meet with our local language helpers. We have a gentleman who helps with some of the slashing (cutting the grass) and work around the house, and because his birthday is today, I sent him home with a bag of rice and a bag of beans for his family. They, like the majority of the Zambians, typically only eat nshima (balls made from ground maize, water and salt). Beans and rice are luxuries. I was humbled and shocked when he knelt down to thank me. Have we ever been that grateful for rice and beans?
Shortly after he left, a young woman visited who had been close to the Bruce family. Nyawa works with neglected elderly people in a nearby area, but is from Lusaka (the capital) originally. She came seeking encouragement, friendship, and advice regarding her ministry, as well as a relationship she is in. While she was here, Charlie, who will be moving into the cottage on our property, came to store some things in our home while his is under renovation. Shortly after Nyawa left and the others had parted, our friend Sharpy arrived to visit and tell us about his work at the local newspaper. Later, just as we were ready to go to bed, we had another visitor who has some items stored by our carport to talk about some struggles with his ministry. Even today, we’ve had two unexpected visitors already.
There are days when visitors arrive just as we sit down for lunch or dinner – we hear it’s fairly common and have learned to cook extra. There are days when our time in Kimasala goes hours longer than planned because people are looking for a listening ear, a word of advice, or a lesson in English. . We take plastic grocery bags and Styrofoam trays from meat with us so that the ladies at Lusa can use the bags to hold maize they’ve grown and the trays to display earrings they’ve made to sell to make money for the ministries at Lusa. Things we would have just thrown away become a viable part of their livelihood.
It’s both exhausting and exhilarating. And all the while, people are ministering right back to us in amazing ways. At least once a week, someone sends us home with maize, tomatoes, mangoes, bananas or other precious goods. We’ve had people stop by when we’re not home, delivering cucumbers, pineapple, and from our expatriate friends at the mines, frontline spray for our dog! (There is an awesome and unexpected ministry opportunity to the miners, but that will be the subject of another post). At times we are frustrated that we can’t “start” the ministry we say we came here to do, but at those times we remind ourselves that we are learning to better communicate, building relationships, and doing what we can for the greatest and “least of these.”
“For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me.... I tell you the truth, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did it for me.” (Matthew 26:35-36, 40)
Many people say they would gladly do mission work or volunteer or help someone if they knew of the needs – if the opportunities presented themselves.
Here in Zambia, opportunity knocks, multiple times a day.
During our initial period of language learning, we have strict orders from our directors not to commit to any specific ministry. No teaching, no set schedule, no planned activities. We have quickly discovered that language learning itself is a ministry, as is simply living here. Here in Zambia; here in Solwezi; here in what has been known as a mission house for 40 or so years.
Take yesterday (Friday), for example. We started our day at a grammar lesson with one of the veteran missionaries here and thought we would spend our afternoon reviewing our lesson and relaxing a bit, as Monday through Thursday we typically walk out to Kimasala (where our primary ministry will be based) to meet with our local language helpers. We have a gentleman who helps with some of the slashing (cutting the grass) and work around the house, and because his birthday is today, I sent him home with a bag of rice and a bag of beans for his family. They, like the majority of the Zambians, typically only eat nshima (balls made from ground maize, water and salt). Beans and rice are luxuries. I was humbled and shocked when he knelt down to thank me. Have we ever been that grateful for rice and beans?
Shortly after he left, a young woman visited who had been close to the Bruce family. Nyawa works with neglected elderly people in a nearby area, but is from Lusaka (the capital) originally. She came seeking encouragement, friendship, and advice regarding her ministry, as well as a relationship she is in. While she was here, Charlie, who will be moving into the cottage on our property, came to store some things in our home while his is under renovation. Shortly after Nyawa left and the others had parted, our friend Sharpy arrived to visit and tell us about his work at the local newspaper. Later, just as we were ready to go to bed, we had another visitor who has some items stored by our carport to talk about some struggles with his ministry. Even today, we’ve had two unexpected visitors already.
There are days when visitors arrive just as we sit down for lunch or dinner – we hear it’s fairly common and have learned to cook extra. There are days when our time in Kimasala goes hours longer than planned because people are looking for a listening ear, a word of advice, or a lesson in English. . We take plastic grocery bags and Styrofoam trays from meat with us so that the ladies at Lusa can use the bags to hold maize they’ve grown and the trays to display earrings they’ve made to sell to make money for the ministries at Lusa. Things we would have just thrown away become a viable part of their livelihood.
It’s both exhausting and exhilarating. And all the while, people are ministering right back to us in amazing ways. At least once a week, someone sends us home with maize, tomatoes, mangoes, bananas or other precious goods. We’ve had people stop by when we’re not home, delivering cucumbers, pineapple, and from our expatriate friends at the mines, frontline spray for our dog! (There is an awesome and unexpected ministry opportunity to the miners, but that will be the subject of another post). At times we are frustrated that we can’t “start” the ministry we say we came here to do, but at those times we remind ourselves that we are learning to better communicate, building relationships, and doing what we can for the greatest and “least of these.”
“For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me.... I tell you the truth, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did it for me.” (Matthew 26:35-36, 40)
25 January 2011
Tubena Kufunda Kikaonde
A mi wa ne Mrs. Wessler. Twafuma ku Kwamelika. Twaiya na kufunda Kikaonde ne kukwasha bana ba kishali.
I am Mrs. Wessler. We are from America. We have come to learn Kikaonde and help orphaned children.
Get that one down and I’m set, right? Everyone tells us we’re learning very quickly, but I feel like I have to look up everything in my handy dandy notebook (Thank you Blues Clues) before saying it. Yes, my vocabulary is increasing significantly, and we have most of the greetings down, but this language stuff is HARD. It’s one thing to be able to say something to someone, but understanding what they say to you and then responding is a whole different story. And I keep wanting to resort to Spanish. Seriously. Especially because there is this horrible consonant that looks like the rolled “n” in Spanish, but sounds like the “ng” in sing. Not that hard, except it doesn’t end syllables or words, it starts them. Syllables always end in vowels. So here’s one of the words: Mwibananyi, used in “Anweba mwibananyi jizhina?” or “What is your name?” Break it apart…. Think: Mwi ba NGA nyi (but deep in your throat and hardly pronouncing it at all…). Okay, I’m going to stop now. I have figured out that if I say my name first (like the first line of this entry), I can just add, “Ngo bewa” to ask “what about you?” and avoid having to completely butcher the pronunciation. Enough of your language lesson for the day.
The fun part about learning the language is it breaks down a barrier. Because of the local mining community (with expatriates from all over the world), the local people are not used to the Mzungus (white people) making efforts to get to know them or speak their language. As we walk to Kimasala (the village where our ministry will primarily be based), or through the market, we see hard faces and looks of almost annoyance or frustration, but as soon as we greet people in Kikaonde or try to start a conversation, they warm up and tell us how great it is we are learning their language. What’s funny, is that a lot of people, especially kids, like to practice their English when they see us. Kids constantly ask us “How are you?” We think it’s the first - and sometimes the only – thing they learn because when we respond they have no idea what to say back! When we respond in Kikaonde some of them start laughing or cheering. People have started to recognize us, too. Our walk takes longer each day as more people greet us or ask us questions. The best is when the kids from Lusa Home-Based Care see us walking. On Friday a few saw me as we approached the last hill toward Kimasala, and they ran down the hill to give me a hug. Awesome.
We’ve also been told that we have to attend a different Kikaonde-speaking church each month during our language study to help us learn. Now we see people in the market who recognize us from church and ask about our work and our language study. I just wish I recognized them as easily as they recognize us!
With language study comes cultural study. We each have a great language helper that clues us in to traditions and “rules.” Like the men and women very rarely sit together in church. We’re talking full out separate sides of the room. Today we were told that a man will never sit in close proximity to his mother-in-law. Likewise, a woman would never sit near her father-in-law. So when Luke arrived to the home of his helper, the mother-in-law was there visiting and so Luke and Christopher sat outside for their lesson. Another thing – kids don’t receive any respect. There are different phrases and greetings and questions used for children than for adults. We add “mwane” as a term of respect to just about everything we say, but we don’t say it to kids – they would laugh or just be confused. But, you can ask kids things you can’t ask adults… like “what is your age?” (Or “how many years do you have?”) They don’t all know, but at least it’s appropriate to ask and answer. The kids will also run out to the road when they see us coming and yell “MZUNGUS” – letting all their friends know they see white people.
Even as we learn, we find ourselves as teachers. Our language helpers ask us questions about American culture. Today, Regina asked me if people eat nshima in the United States. Nshima is a staple here, made from pounded, ground maize that is boiled and formed into a sticky ball that is then used to pick up other food (think polenta… sort of). She was shocked to find out that we don’t. Then we discussed how our hair is very different and we have to wash it a lot more than they have to wash theirs. We also talk about language differences, helping them with their English. When observing the teaching of the children at Lusa, we sometimes even find ourselves correcting the teachers as they teach the kids English.
We are trying hard, and know that this is an important phase of our ministry – especially building relationships, but sometimes it’s exhausting. Communication is such an interesting thing, and I’ve never felt so much like I can’t express myself, even to those who speak English fairly well. I guess all things with time – and we look forward to a time when we can really share our hearts and speak to the hearts of our friends here. Shalaipo Mwane. (Remain well.)
I am Mrs. Wessler. We are from America. We have come to learn Kikaonde and help orphaned children.
Get that one down and I’m set, right? Everyone tells us we’re learning very quickly, but I feel like I have to look up everything in my handy dandy notebook (Thank you Blues Clues) before saying it. Yes, my vocabulary is increasing significantly, and we have most of the greetings down, but this language stuff is HARD. It’s one thing to be able to say something to someone, but understanding what they say to you and then responding is a whole different story. And I keep wanting to resort to Spanish. Seriously. Especially because there is this horrible consonant that looks like the rolled “n” in Spanish, but sounds like the “ng” in sing. Not that hard, except it doesn’t end syllables or words, it starts them. Syllables always end in vowels. So here’s one of the words: Mwibananyi, used in “Anweba mwibananyi jizhina?” or “What is your name?” Break it apart…. Think: Mwi ba NGA nyi (but deep in your throat and hardly pronouncing it at all…). Okay, I’m going to stop now. I have figured out that if I say my name first (like the first line of this entry), I can just add, “Ngo bewa” to ask “what about you?” and avoid having to completely butcher the pronunciation. Enough of your language lesson for the day.
The fun part about learning the language is it breaks down a barrier. Because of the local mining community (with expatriates from all over the world), the local people are not used to the Mzungus (white people) making efforts to get to know them or speak their language. As we walk to Kimasala (the village where our ministry will primarily be based), or through the market, we see hard faces and looks of almost annoyance or frustration, but as soon as we greet people in Kikaonde or try to start a conversation, they warm up and tell us how great it is we are learning their language. What’s funny, is that a lot of people, especially kids, like to practice their English when they see us. Kids constantly ask us “How are you?” We think it’s the first - and sometimes the only – thing they learn because when we respond they have no idea what to say back! When we respond in Kikaonde some of them start laughing or cheering. People have started to recognize us, too. Our walk takes longer each day as more people greet us or ask us questions. The best is when the kids from Lusa Home-Based Care see us walking. On Friday a few saw me as we approached the last hill toward Kimasala, and they ran down the hill to give me a hug. Awesome.
We’ve also been told that we have to attend a different Kikaonde-speaking church each month during our language study to help us learn. Now we see people in the market who recognize us from church and ask about our work and our language study. I just wish I recognized them as easily as they recognize us!
With language study comes cultural study. We each have a great language helper that clues us in to traditions and “rules.” Like the men and women very rarely sit together in church. We’re talking full out separate sides of the room. Today we were told that a man will never sit in close proximity to his mother-in-law. Likewise, a woman would never sit near her father-in-law. So when Luke arrived to the home of his helper, the mother-in-law was there visiting and so Luke and Christopher sat outside for their lesson. Another thing – kids don’t receive any respect. There are different phrases and greetings and questions used for children than for adults. We add “mwane” as a term of respect to just about everything we say, but we don’t say it to kids – they would laugh or just be confused. But, you can ask kids things you can’t ask adults… like “what is your age?” (Or “how many years do you have?”) They don’t all know, but at least it’s appropriate to ask and answer. The kids will also run out to the road when they see us coming and yell “MZUNGUS” – letting all their friends know they see white people.
Even as we learn, we find ourselves as teachers. Our language helpers ask us questions about American culture. Today, Regina asked me if people eat nshima in the United States. Nshima is a staple here, made from pounded, ground maize that is boiled and formed into a sticky ball that is then used to pick up other food (think polenta… sort of). She was shocked to find out that we don’t. Then we discussed how our hair is very different and we have to wash it a lot more than they have to wash theirs. We also talk about language differences, helping them with their English. When observing the teaching of the children at Lusa, we sometimes even find ourselves correcting the teachers as they teach the kids English.
We are trying hard, and know that this is an important phase of our ministry – especially building relationships, but sometimes it’s exhausting. Communication is such an interesting thing, and I’ve never felt so much like I can’t express myself, even to those who speak English fairly well. I guess all things with time – and we look forward to a time when we can really share our hearts and speak to the hearts of our friends here. Shalaipo Mwane. (Remain well.)
01 January 2011
An Unchanging God
So this blog post may have some similarities to the last, but this is a journal entry I wrote at about 10:30 p.m. on New Years Eve (or 2:30 p.m. for those of you back home…).
What a year. Oh what a year. Even so, I can’t imagine what I will be thinking and feeling at this point next year. Zambia has been the goal – the focus – the destination – for so long and now… we’re here. So now what? What becomes the goal? The next stage? The destination for our lives? We’ve focused so much on getting here, and now that we’re here, what does God have planned for us?
It’s been three weeks since we arrived in Zambia, and have been in a state of limbo – staying in Lusaka until we move to Solwezi January 5. It’s been frustrating waiting, but we’ll probably find ourselves very grateful for this opportunity to rest – to throw our routines and schedules and everything we’re used to out the window so that when we get to Solwezi, we go with a clean slate, no expectations, and the energy we need to jump into a completely new life.
Our definitions and contexts have changed. There is a new rich and a new poor; a new clean and a new dirty. New definitions of beauty; new definitions of time. New smells, new sounds, new foods, new systems of measurement and money and processes. Our seasons have flipped; our wardrobes diminished and changed; our friendships moved and stretched. God is so good, and so mysterious. He brought us here and turned our worlds upside down and we are so excited, scared, and everything else to see what happens next.
Seriously. We start language training soon and all the while start life here. We will be making friends (hopefully), and setting up life. We’re no longer working toward getting to Zambia. No longer just buying the necessities knowing we’re one day moving overseas. This is real. This is life now. Everything we know is changing. We’re going to be changing. And we probably couldn’t do it except for one thing. God’s love is not changing. Christ’s love – His death and resurrection – and salvation through Him – is not changing. The need for a Savior throughout the world is not changing.
"Jesus Christ is the same yesterday and today and forever" - Hebrews 13:8
We are no longer going to be focused on getting to Zambia. Now we have to open our eyes, our hearts, and our mouths to share the good news of Christ in a context so different than ever before.
Thank you God or this opportunity – for this new adventure and new life. I can’t wait to see what happens in 2011.
What a year. Oh what a year. Even so, I can’t imagine what I will be thinking and feeling at this point next year. Zambia has been the goal – the focus – the destination – for so long and now… we’re here. So now what? What becomes the goal? The next stage? The destination for our lives? We’ve focused so much on getting here, and now that we’re here, what does God have planned for us?
It’s been three weeks since we arrived in Zambia, and have been in a state of limbo – staying in Lusaka until we move to Solwezi January 5. It’s been frustrating waiting, but we’ll probably find ourselves very grateful for this opportunity to rest – to throw our routines and schedules and everything we’re used to out the window so that when we get to Solwezi, we go with a clean slate, no expectations, and the energy we need to jump into a completely new life.
Our definitions and contexts have changed. There is a new rich and a new poor; a new clean and a new dirty. New definitions of beauty; new definitions of time. New smells, new sounds, new foods, new systems of measurement and money and processes. Our seasons have flipped; our wardrobes diminished and changed; our friendships moved and stretched. God is so good, and so mysterious. He brought us here and turned our worlds upside down and we are so excited, scared, and everything else to see what happens next.
Seriously. We start language training soon and all the while start life here. We will be making friends (hopefully), and setting up life. We’re no longer working toward getting to Zambia. No longer just buying the necessities knowing we’re one day moving overseas. This is real. This is life now. Everything we know is changing. We’re going to be changing. And we probably couldn’t do it except for one thing. God’s love is not changing. Christ’s love – His death and resurrection – and salvation through Him – is not changing. The need for a Savior throughout the world is not changing.
"Jesus Christ is the same yesterday and today and forever" - Hebrews 13:8
We are no longer going to be focused on getting to Zambia. Now we have to open our eyes, our hearts, and our mouths to share the good news of Christ in a context so different than ever before.
Thank you God or this opportunity – for this new adventure and new life. I can’t wait to see what happens in 2011.
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