The fishing boats outside of a little town in Burundi. I feel bad for the poor guy who got the bad parking spot way out on the lake.

I have found the most beautiful beach I have ever been to on Lake Tanganyika and it is in Kigoma, Tanzania.  Last weekend I packed up the boys and bunch of food and headed south towards the Tanzanian border with hopes, aspirations and lots of diapers.  I asked Gideon to make us enough food for the weekend so that all I would have to do is heat it up, so cooking was something that I would not have to concern myself with.  On the way, there were sections of road that were so bad that I had the tires of our car a few inches in the air multiple times.  The suspensions on those Toyota Spacios don’t articulate as much as one would like, but nevertheless we succeeded in traversing the worst of it with minimal damage.

We had to wait an hour and a half for the passport office to open. We just played with the local kids, listening to them say, 'hello, how are you, I am a boy!' over and over

When we were entering Tanzania John said to me, “Dad, everybody there in Tanzania is going to notice us.”  I asked him what he meant by this and he said, “…because we look different.”  I told John that he was right that we looked different, but his comment made me curious so I asked him, “How do we look different John?”  He replied, “…we have new haircuts!!” He is so right! We are going to stand out so much!  (Un)fortunately John has not figured out that he is white yet and that is the real reason that we stand out.  Perhaps it is because I tell him that when people yell ‘muzungo’ at us it means ‘Canadian.’  Maybe it’s time I tell him the truth.

There is nothing (besides a stroller) that attracts more attention than sleeping muzungo children in car-seats.

The forest in 'no man's land.' In Africa, when you cross a border, you have to first officially exit the country you are in and get 'stamped out.' Then you go through 'no man's land' which can be between a few hundred meters to several kilometers. This one was a few kilometers and had a beautiful forest in it. After that you enter the next country and get 'stamped in.'

In the mornings the water is calm and totally clear. In the afternoon the wind picks up and there is some small surf. It took the boys awhile to get used to the surf and not be too scared of it.

Jonas had mixed feelings about the water. He preferred to dig with his shovel and bucket.

Tanzania was great.  Everyone in Kigoma speaks Kiswahili and a few speak English.  Since I know no Swahili at all I could actually do better in Kirundi than Swahili (better meaning simply great people and say thank you and stuff like that).  I love going to new places and meeting different people who speak other languages.  Some people find it annoying when communication is such a barrier but I find it fun.  Yeah, I’m one of those weird people…there are not many of us around.  I think we are a dying breed…kind of like long-haired rockers from the 80’s who liked AC/DC and Firebirds…we are both doomed to extinction.

There was no electricity, but that didn't stop us from having a great time.

Jonas is giving us that face. That 'I got sand in my crack' face.

Jakobsen’s Guest House was awesome.  We stayed in a small cabin just a stone’s throw from the lake and had a great time.  The boys absolutely loved it.  Every morning we woke up to monkeys all over the place.  They were on the roof, on our table, and in all the trees surrounding our cottage.  We went down to the beach several times a day to build sand castles and swim around.  I met some Germans on the beach who lived in Kigoma.  They said that for vacations they go to Bujumbura.  I almost laughed out loud!  I asked them why on earth they would decide to go to Bujumbura for a vacation and they said that there are awesome restaurants and interesting places to see.  Wow, things must be really bad in Kigoma.  Just when you think that you are in a really hard place to live, you meet some hard-core Germans who show you otherwise.  I guess trading vacation spots is a testimony to both places, both positive and negative.  Like I said earlier, Kigoma has an amazing beach and that is what drew us there.  Every place that one lives has positives and negatives…except for Canada…because Canada is pure awesomeness, and maybe I’ll throw in there Costa Rica as well (one of my favorite countries in the world).

The monkeys were definitely the highlight of the weekend for the boys. By the way, it was basically a nude weekend for the boys. Saved tonnes on diapers, but paid the price in other ways...

The trip was fun and we did end up seeing all the animals we wanted to: monkeys, zebras, antelope and a baboon.  We were lucky with the baboon.  John really wanted to see one, but we didn’t during our whole stay in Tanzania.  We were driving home to Bujumbura and by chance saw a baboon run across the road.  John was delighted!

There was an awesome hotel that we went to for lunch. I had Indian chicken! They had Zebras wandering around the grounds and the receptionist warned us that we need to throw rocks at the Zebras so that they don't kick us. John was not the only one who was delighted to hear this.

I took the boys to Blue Bay, which is about an hour south of where we live

One week down two to go.  All in all, the boys have been great—most likely due to their new look—and Dad is doing pretty good to boot.  It was quite an interesting week of work because I took John with me up-country to Ruyigi province and attempted to teach a one-day workshop on savings groups.  John liked it, but as far as effective teaching methods go, it is not advisable to bit a quasi-toilet trained three year old muzungo to a rural African seminar.  I had to say in the middle of the teaching, “Pardon-moi, mon fils a fait ca-ca dedans ses pantalons.” Everybody laughs of course, which provides for a positive learning environment, but of course poo kind of interrupts the flow of the teaching (slight pun intended).  Overall the teaching went okay and I got done what I was supposed to, despite the interruptions.

Its awesome cuz Jonas doesn't eat sand anymore. Maybe bugs though.

John loves to chase goats.  He will keep chasing them until he is out of breath and red in the face.  He hasn’t learned that they are faster than him yet and I don’t really want him to learn it yet.  He provides entertainment for me along with countless other Burundians who watch him running round and round in circles endlessly pursuing what cannot be caught.

These guys fixed my haircutting mistakes. For 30 cents. I had to bargain for awhile before I finally settled. Is that bad?

While in Ruyigi we had quite the following of Burundian children interested in what the muzungo was going to do next.  I decided to buy a few of them deep fried dough balls that a little 7 or 8 year old boy was selling.  As I paid him for 4 dough-balls, all the kids rushed in and started grabbing them in a free-for-all.  In a matter of seconds the poor little boy was completely robbed of all the dough-balls he was selling and he began to cry.  I was angry.  I don’t get angry very often but something inside me was very unsettled.  I proceeded to lecture them on how evil it is to steal from a little boy that is poor.  My voice was raised and my demeanor was very serious.  Many of the adults around were very interested in what the muzungo was saying to these little kids.  After my lecture I gave the little boy 10,000 FBU ($7), which more than covered all of his losses.  Afterwards, I began to wonder if I was a little boy who was hungry and people were stealing food in a free-for-all if I would participate or not.  I suppose I might.  Being hungry for an extended period of time can be quite a strong feeling…or so I’ve heard.

I remember when Danica and I were deciding to come to Africa and we were like, "...at least our kids will learn how to play outside and make their own fun."

Right now it is Saturday morning and I’ve figured out the best way to entertain the boys is by releasing the chickens and letting the boys chase them around for awhile.  Jonas loves to grab a stick and go chicken-hunting, and John likes to hunt them on his tricycle.  It provides me with enough time to get some chores done around the house.  No wonder my chickens aren’t producing many eggs yet.

Two boys and a bug. That's good for about 45 mins of entertainment on their part and relaxation on mine. As far as the bug goes, its 45 mins of slow, terrible torture.

Prayer requests:  I have to preach this weekend on the Kingdom of God, which is a subject that always puts me on edge a bit…which is a good thing when it comes to preaching.   Also, I would like to draw nearer to God’s heart and I am having trouble engaging him.  Please pray that I would be able to connect with him more deeply.  Worship music really helps, but I would also like it in my morning devotions and during the day.  Thanks!

Well, its guy time!  Danica has returned to Canada for 3 weeks for a little R and R and to refill her prego-meds.  I had this plan to chop the boys hair as soon as she left and I knew how much she would love a surprise like this.  Right Dani!  This is weird to be writing a blog thinking that Danica will be one of the audience members, unaware of the happenings in Africa.  Her flight left just 45 minutes ago, so she is probably only in Rwanda right now, and already the boys hair is buzzed!  Who knows what is going to happen over the next three weeks!  Dani, this is my way of saying, “…sure, you can leave me alone for three weeks with the boys, but every time you do, expect craziness!”

He laughed for so long when he saw himself in the mirror. Danica probably won't laugh quite that long.

Well, for one thing I think I will drive down south and check out the chimpanzees tomorrow.  The boys will like that a lot.  The only trouble is that I don’t know if the national park truly exists.  That is to say that I don’t know if it is still open.

There was a brief moment in time where I thought of leaving the full mohawk. Jonas could not quite embrace his native roots so I gave him a mini fo-hawk. Now he looks awesome! Right Dani? Right?

Another plan of mine is to head down to Tanzania.  This is a trip that we had planned to do as a family before, but ever since Dani got sick/pregnant, we were not able to go because driving in the car makes Dani want Jesus to come back.  So now that Dani is gone for awhile, I think I will take the boys down there.  The place is called Kigoma and apparently there is a guesthouse where we can stay on the beach with zebras, monkeys and other antelope-type creatures that wander around.  I know the boys will love it.  It is located on Lake Tanganyika, but about 4 or 5 hours down the lake.

The boys love making a fort with all the cushions from the couches and chairs. With these military haircuts they look like marines vanquishing evil. Check out the fo-hawk on Jonas...pure awesomeness right Dani?

Truly I am happy that Danica gets to go back home and hang out with friends and family for a bit.  She asked me the other day if I was jealous of her and I said that I wasn’t.  I am happy for her.  At least one of us gets to go back there and eat and sleep again.  She promised to bring me back Franks Red Hot sauce and the Lord of the Rings trilogy, so I do get some perks out of the deal as well.  John has requested mini wheats and Jonas just probably wants his hair back, but he isn’t getting it J

“Raising kids is part joy and part guerrilla warfare.”

Prayer requests: Yes!  I think it is obvious.  Sanity…simply sanity.

John fell off the slide at school and got some nastiness on his face. Now he is loving the scabs.

Danica has a parasite.  She has been quite sick and nauseous for the last four weeks.  She went to the doctor after one week and he confirmed that there is a parasite living in her G.I. region…well not exactly in the intestines, but more in the uterus region.  She has had this sickness a couple of times before in Canada and it usually lasts 40 weeks.  It is amazing how much discomfort this little creature can cause!  I guess this is one of the few times where parasites are welcomed and named, which is an exciting prospect for us both.  We’re pregnant!

Gideon is so awesome! He has such a gentle spirit.

It is funny the progression that you go through when you find out you are pregnant.  The first reaction is disbelief…wondering if that little line on the stick is really showing or if it is just playing with your mind.  The second reaction is joy because of the incredible gift of life that is about to join our family.  After that comes a whole bunch of other concerns like: 1) how are we going to handle three kids when we can barely handle 2? 2) how on earth are we going to travel across continents with three kids? 3) are we going to find out the gender? 4) is it safe to be pregnant in Burundi? (a study indicates that mosquitoes are 4 times more attracted to pregnant women than everyone else)  5) when do we fly home?  6) when are we going to be able to watch Hunger Games in the theatres?  Well I guess that last one doesn’t really fit there.

We were able to intercept a missions team coming from Vancouver before they departed for the purpose of picking up some anti-nausea medicine for Danica.  She has been taking it regularly, but it doesn’t seem to be helping too much.  Between the bed and driving the porcelain  bus Danica is feeling terrible.  We are currently around 9 weeks pregnant and still have a long way to go.  With her first two pregnancies the morning sickness (not a great name because it lasts all day and all night) lasted until 18-19 weeks, so there are still some weeks to trudge through for her.

This coop is like the arena in Hunger Games. 2 chickens from district Kirundo have died and there are 5 left. The four on the bottom are like the 'careers' and have an alliance. The one up top does not have much hope.

I’ve been Mr. Mom for the last couple of weeks.  Danica is really averse to smells lately, which means I am on diaper duty for two more months.  I put the boys to bed, feed them stuff, and try to keep them away from Danica as much as I can.  Next week I am travelling up-country and am thinking of taking at least one of them with me to ease her burden.  It has been cute to see John take care of Dani.  He brings her water, rubs her back and offers his bed in case she wants to lie down…I hope this lasts through the teen years (wishful thinking?).

Things we don't do in Canada

Well, we just wanted people to know we are pregnant mostly so that people can pray for Danica.  Telling the public at 9 weeks is not normal but given how awful she is feeling we decided to inform everyone with the hope that prayers for her would increase.  Thank you in advance for all of you who are praying!

Sorry it’s been so long since our last update.  Things all of a sudden got busy.  Danica went from less than half-time to full time.  I went from full time to fuller time.  I have had to resort to buying a pedal bike because of our differing schedules so I decided to be like the Burundians and get myself an ‘African Special’ for around $120.  Every morning I leave the house at around 6:40 and brave the dangerous streets of Bujumbura.

Never before have I felt so much bike between my legs. I should call it 'turbo.' By the way, my pant legs are rolled up so the bike doesn't eat them, and so I look cool...come to think of it, perhaps this is the reason people are yelling at me!

To be a white man on a bicycle in Burundi attracts the same amount of attention as a supermodel walking through an American prison.  People just yell at me…all the time…mostly yelling ‘white man!’  The strange thing is that they do this every day.  They know I’m coming and they’ve seen me multiple times, but I think they become overwhelmed by this irresistible urge to point out to the world that I am a foreigner.  My missionary friends who have been here for years take offense quite easily to behaviour like this, but because I am still a noob it doesn’t bother me too much.  I just wave and yell, ‘Burundian!’

My bike mechanic is the best guy ever. Don't even know how to ask his name. He's got no French, I've got no Swahili or Kirundi. We grin lots and point hehe.

The reason why a white man on a bicycle is such a different thing to see than a white man in a car is because of the class system here.  Only poor people ride bicycles, and if you come across any money at all, you take the bus, you do not ride a bicycle.  People who ride bicycles represent some of the lowest in society–which is part of the reason why I wanted to get one actually–so to see a Muzungu on a pedal bike is like seeing Donald Trump living in a trailer park.  Not only does it surprise people, it almost makes them agitated.  To disrupt the ‘way things are supposed to be’ ruffles some feathers around here.  White people are supposed to be rich and black people are supposed to be poor and nothing I can say will change this belief in the minds of these people.  That’s why I got a bike.

Like staring at car magazines as a kid, I see this bike every day and dream of what my bike could be. The rear re-bar section is especially attractive. Tricked out Burundian style

I have owned Kawasaki Ninja’s and Suzuki GSX-R’s and I have to admit that riding my piece-of-junk bike in Burundi is probably more dangerous.  The reason is that there are Matatus (Haitian equivalent is Tap-Taps) here with drivers that have no problem flying by you inches from your handlebars.  The wind alone from the pass is almost enough to blow you off your bike.  If the wind doesn’t do it then the sheer fright from seeing a van suddenly blow by you is enough to have to clean out my shorts when I get to work.  And if that isn’t enough, they like to scream ‘you’re white’ from the window just in case you forgot to look in the mirror that morning.

I was told that the bike I bought was of very high quality.  Currently I have to repair it every third day because of either low air in the tires or some component has broken on it.  Yesterday I had to have one of the front brake pads replaced, the chain tightened and air added to the tires.  I’m glad I didn’t buy the bike of medium quality!  The bill came to 35 cents so I didn’t complain too much.  More of an annoyance than anything else.

The boss of the road. When you hear a honk behind you...get your white butt off the road before you are road kill! (you're not really supposed to ride on the shoulder like this, but I believe you're not really supposed to die either..so I'll pay the fine thank you very much)

As far as work goes, this is the first day in Africa that Danica came home from her job and felt that everything went well and that people were responsive to her teachings.  This made me very happy because she has been bashing her head against the wall at the hospital she was working at because many of the staff there are ‘stuck in their systems’ of healthcare and are not about to change things very quickly.  Energy is better spent trying to catch the next generation of health care professionals before they get into the hospitals.  For those of you who do not know, it was Danica’s first day teaching in one of the most highly acclaimed, prestigious, expensive and fantastic universities in the entire country.  Okay there is only three, but that doesn’t make that last statement any less true.  He lectures went great and she felt that the students were eager to learn.  This is an answer to prayer!  Thank you!

As far as prayer requests for the future, I am heading up-country tomorrow to train some staff on how to start up, manage and multiply savings groups.  I have no idea what I am doing! On top of this I am teaching them in French.  Well, that’s the goal anyways.  Both boys are doing great right now and so prayer of thanksgiving around that would be good.  Danica is suddenly very busy with prep because she got a course thrown on her 1 week before she has to teach it, so she is basically scrambling every week to get the following weeks lesson together.  Prayer for this would be greatly appreciated.  Thanks 🙂

A typical church and a typical NGO vehicle

Last week I sat in the back of the FH Land Cruiser as it ambled over ruts and wash-outs on our way to Gisuru, which is a small town on the eastern border of Burundi.  Being my first time on this side of the country, I immediately noticed the lack of dense population which is so characteristic of the rest of this country.  My FH colleagues explained to me that this area is called the lion’s office (den) because it is very dangerous and many people get mugged here.  You can call out all you want or try to run in any direction and nobody is there to help you.

Discussing what they believe to be false teachings that circulate the community

I was actually planning to visit this region in early December but was prevented from doing so due to rebel uprisings. Not something you would put on a tourism brochure.

During my time in Ruyigi, I taught 12 pastors from various denominations (including Roman Catholic) a lesson on how to hear the voice of God. When we practiced it together at the end of the teaching, God spoke clearly to at least half of the members.  One of the words that was heard by several people was that there was people among them that were divisive and had hard hearts.  I got this sense from them as well.  Some would warmly receive the teaching and were hungry for more…others were waiting for what I would give them as far as food or materials, which was evidence of hearts that were divided.  This is the way it is in many parts of Burundi.  Many pastors here compete with the church down the road for members, even resorting to slanderous accusations.  I came to Burundi desiring to give them systematic theology and administrative teachings, but now I feel that unity in Spirit is what they need before anything else can take place.

Man am I ever white

Of all the places that I’ve been in Burundi, this province of Ruyigi has felt the darkest.  Many pastors talk about experiencing evil spirits, nightmares, and curses.  One of the first people I met in the village was a witch.  I guess the best way to learn is to be thrown in over your head.

Two men playing a traditional board game

The staff at the FH office in Ruyigi were great!  Two of them speak English so that is somewhat satisfying for me, but I am nearing the point of being able to manage in French (thanks for your prayers).  There are 6 or 7 dirt bikes parked in the compound and every day the community level staff hop on their bikes and drive many km’s down bad roads to reach the communities that FH serves.  I am jealous.

What have we got ourselves into?

I asked one of the staff members to buy some hens for me down at the market, and one hour later he came back with 4 roosters!  He explained to me that there were no more hens left at the market and that he was sorry.  Being resistant to wanting to hear 4 part harmony every morning at 5:00am, I asked if I could trade someone for some hens.  Luckily the regional director traded me two roosters for two hens, so it didn’t end up being that bad.  Still, if those two roosters are too loud in the mornings, its butter chicken for dinner!

Now I know why African men are so ripped!

When I got home John and Jonas were more than excited to see that Dad had brought home real live animals.  We let the chickens peck around for a day, and after a few things got destroyed I decided to take a day off of work and build a chicken coop.  This was an adventure in itself.  To make a chicken coop in Canada I would go to the lumber store to pick up all the materials I needed, swing by my brother-in-law Kevin’s house to get some tools, and have the coop made in probably 1 1/2 hours.  To do this in Burundi takes a whole day.  I went to the lumber store and the only lumber that would work had very unusual (to me) dimensions.  The closest thing in Canada would be a 1X8 but the width was probably a true inch.  Also, it was hardwood, not spruce or pine or fur like we are used to using in Canada, so cutting through it with a handsaw was quite a chore.  I originally had plans of making nice flush corners and cutting nice angles to make it visually appealing, but when I realized that this would require twice as much cutting, my standards faded quickly.  In the end the chickens had a place to live and the boys got to help Dad in the process and that’s all that matters.

Jonas isn't used to these sub-standard measuring tapes. He wanted his 'Fat Max'

Our time here in Africa has been steadily getting better.  I don’t know if it is because people like you are praying for us or if we are simply getting used to it, but whatever the reason…it is welcomed.  As far as prayer requests go, there seem to be more mosquitoes around lately, so maybe pray that none of us would get malaria.  Also, today is Danica’s birthday so maybe thank God for her life and the gift that it is for many.  Thanks much!

John with his African Estwing

When I look back on the last two weeks I have to conclude that I have experienced the Holy Spirit with more intensity than I have in years.  Like a drink of cold water on a dry and parched throat, God supplied me with his presence in a way that brought me to tears.

Sometimes God speaks French

Last weekend we hosted Costa Mitchell, Larry and Karen Levy and other Vineyard Church members from South Africa.  There was a pan-African Vineyard leaders meeting in Bujumbura and we offered to open up our house to anyone who wanted to stay.  It was absolutely great having them here and they are one of the main reasons why I have felt the way I do lately.  I went to a church service and experienced a small degree of the Holy Spirit’s presence as soon as I started worshiping.  Ministry time saw people come forward with very specific words spoken for various physical and emotional ailments.  ‘Doing this stuff’ brought to mind the truth that I am thoroughly Vineyard.  This is the way that I am designed to do church, and being in a church that does not do this stuff somehow leaves a vacuum in my soul.  There is no more privileged position to be in than beside someone who has come forward for ministry time and to see that person experience the presence of God and have their lives transformed.  This is an honour and a blessing as well as

It’s amazing how one’s heart turns to him so quickly when He is experienced.  Suddenly devotions are looked forward to, worship times taste better than Gideon’s cooking and crying feels good.  Very strange phenomenon that are difficult to explain in terms of frequency and purpose.  Why now?  I pray for this stuff all the time and went long periods of time without having it…so what is it about this time in my life where the intensity of his presence is temporarily elevated?   Why me?  Other people are thirsty too.  What purpose does it serve?  Am I being too analytical?…should I simply sit back and enjoy?  I can’t do this as a student of theology because one of the most vexing questions I have is surrounding the coming and going of his presence.

I'm so glad I brought this to Africa.

Costa Mitchell informed me that last Sunday at the Vineyard 20 people stood up for healing of various types and 18 of them reported being healed.  The blind saw completely.  The lame walked.  Other minor maladies were healed as well…some of which completely and others not so completely.  All in all, God moved and didn’t hold back.  Unfortunately I was not there to witness this because I was called on to preach at another church…which was an experience of God in itself.  During worship at BICC (Bujumbura International Community Church) I was weeping and didn’t know why.  I have had this before where I cannot contain myself and try to hide this fact from people on my side.  By the time I was called to come up and preach I was shaking like a leaf, not because I was nervous about preaching, but because the Holy Spirit was on me and I guess I was nervous about that.  I preached from my heart and prayed for people who responded to the sermon.  It felt good to preach and felt even better for God to be near.  My hope is that people change for the better because of it.

God is moving in the city of Bujumbura and we are the privileged ones who get to live in the middle of it.  I find myself praying for words of encouragement for people at work.  I find myself preaching at work to fellow employees, calling them to prayer.  Something has come alive in me.  On top of all this, I have heard a report from my brother Liam that God is doing great things in him too.  He is a YWAM alumni with a fire in his belly that is burning brightly.  Thank you Father for your presence and may we be faithful in seeking after your heart and not just your hand.  Let this time of plenty be used for doing your work and serving others, not simply ‘fattening’ ourselves.  Come Holy Spirit.  You are welcome and you are loved.

Danica here again.

So I figure it’s time for a few more medical stories!

For the last couple of times at the hospital I have had a Belgian midwife join me, which has been great not only because of her expertise, but because she can speak French and English! I’m afraid her first day of work may have scared her away, though…

We arrived at the delivery suite which was in the process of being “cleaned.” The janitor was swishing around about an inch and a half of water/dirt/bodily fluids/ likely HIV-infested blood all over the floor. The nurses and patients waded through the water (in their flip-flops) without much concern. Not exactly the most sterile environment to give birth in.

Listening for baby's heartbeat.

There were two ladies about to deliver (side by side). One of them was just a 16 year old girl. They were alone, no spouse, no sister, no support. I watched as the nurse performed (unnecessary) episiotomies on them both. Scissors cutting through flesh with no freezing. Then to my amazement the nurse called the janitor over (the same one who was swishing sludge across the floor) and he climbed right up on to the delivery bed, rubber boots and all, straddling the poor 16 year old’s face. As she screamed (right into his groin) he pushed as hard as he could on her belly to force the baby out.

The baby did come out, looking very limp and covered in meconium, and not making an effort to breath. At this time, the midwife and I were standing mouths open in shock/horror, and I scrambled to get some gloves on while she grabbed the nurses hands and instructed her to stimulate the little babe. The baby did breath and I dried her off and handed her back to the nurse. She put the baby on a table, and sloshed a bucket of water over her to clean her I suppose, and then left her there alone, in a puddle, on a wet blanket.

The other lady, one stall over, delivered her child shortly after. No janitor consults required this time. As the nurse was stitching up the damage from the episiotomy, the woman kept whimpering and (naturally) tried to close her legs. The nurse released a tirade of anger, yelling at her to stop crying, and then proceeded to beat the inside of her thighs. Anytime her legs moved a bit, she got another wallop. Another nurse-in-training stood by the bedside and pinched the patient’s hip bone with a sharp instrument. I asked her what she was doing, and she said she was trying to “keep the patient calm and distract her from the stitching.” Oh boy.

It’s days like this that make me just shake my head. I don’t want to sound like I am coming down hard on Burundians. In my day-to-day interactions with Burundians, I find them to be polite, warm, and hospitable people. I realize that the medical staff here are merely behaving in the ways that they were taught and modeled. It also could be a reflection of a country that has been at war for so many years. Life just seems less important, less valuable. It really does just make me sad, though. I have seen the other side of labour and delivery– the side where it is a life event. A time of immense struggle no doubt, but also of extreme joy and intimacy and wonder. I would love for a Burundian woman to be handed her newborn, snuggling skin-to-skin, as people hug and kiss and congratulate. But it is not the custom here. At least I have not seen it yet.

Reminiscing about my delivery experiences...

The midwife and I have decided that our energies might be best spent in trying to do some teaching at the hospital, so every Friday, we will be teaching a little course on topics like newborn resuscitation, sterile techniques, etc, etc.

Please pray that we would be well received and could teach in a fun and humble manner.

Well there’s my thoughts for today! Until next time…  Danica

Well, this week I saw snow.  No, not only in Facebook pictures, but in Kenya.  There is a mountain north of Nairobi that reaches 17,000 feet, which is around 7000 feet higher than Mt. Baker.  It truly is a weird feeling to see snow right on the equator, and I was encouraging our driver to drive up Mt. Kenya and bomb around in it for awhile, but unfortunately we were on a tight schedule.

My colleague and friend Joseph, with Zipporah and Laura Hunter who facilitated the conference.

Well I had an awesome week up in Isiolo, Kenya learning about savings groups and how they can help the poorest of the poor.  Many people believe that poor people cannot save which is not at all true.  Although their savings are small, poor people are able to put aside some money weekly and by the end of the year reap the rewards.  The format is simple:  Take a group of between 8-30 people.  Together come up with a constitution of rules and regulations that will govern the savings and loans practices.  For three months everyone saves, then after that people are able to take small loans from the pot.  Statistically, these groups have been incredibly successful and I am eager to start them in the churches.  I plan on inserting a 1/2 hour teaching on Biblical worldview in the middle of the meeting in order to encourage and strengthen the church.  We’ll see what happens!

I bought John and Jonas a cute little pet. They loved it 🙂 Sometimes you just have to make sacrifices for the kids if you know what I mean (wink wink)!

It was interesting for me because I travelled with my colleague Joseph, who is native to Burundi and is an excellent resource into culture and etiquette.  He has had very  limited travelling experience and was like a fish out of water in the airports and hotel lobbies.  It was very fun to see the world through his eyes as certain things in Kenya really grabbed his attention.  For instance to see a herd of sheep is something extremely rare to him.  This is something that one would not see in Burundi because long ago the sheep was worshipped as a deity and people did not keep them.  Nowadays you may see one or two sheep following some cows, but never in a herd like in Kenya.  Also, I had ample opportunity to show him a whole bunch of youtube videos to educate him on how crazy Americans can be.  I showed him fishing techniques from the south ( http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zc_huHb4PMc ) and human flight techniques ( http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DIf_vfmC2zA).  He was ABSOLUTELY amazed by this stuff and it was really fun to show him.  I have a lot of respect for him and I think that after I leave Burundi one day (God’s plan is unknown), he will carry on with professionalism and excellence.

These were employees of FH Kenya who were very smart and creative, It was a pleasure learning with them.

Prayer Requests:  I am thinking of starting between 50-100 groups in 2012 and so I need to raise up trainers of trainers, performing workshops and skills training on a regular basis.  I have never done one of these groups before and I hope people in the churches really benefit from this.  Also, Jonas has had a fever and we are curious about malaria.  Pray that God would heal him and that the family’s health would be stabilized.  Thanks 🙂

The second happiest place on Earth

There is a place.  A place where dreams come true.  A place where even the darkest moods can be transformed into joyous bliss.  This place is called heaven, but there is another place that is almost as good and it is called Hotel Club Du Lac Tanganyika.  It is probably one of the nicest hotels in the country and has beautiful pools and a stunning beach.  It doesn’t cost anything to go and hang out there, so every Saturday our family heads down there for some relaxing and to meet with friends.  We don’t pre-arrange any meetings, they just kind of happen down there because I think every muzungo in town frequents this place on a semi-regular basis.

Every day after our time here we clean sand out of Jonas' diaper. It's like interior exfoliation

We begin by heading out to let the kids play in the sand.  We order pizza and chicken and fries for lunch and the boys are good to play with their beach toys for a good couple of hours.  After that we make our way down to the little kids pool that is about 2 1/2 feet deep and is perfect for John to cruise around in without water-wings.  Jonas is still too little for it, but if I hold his hands, he loves to be pulled back and forth.

John is sporting his Dutch swimsuit/underwear

For Danica, this is definitely the highlight of the week.  I think she must be vitamin D deficient because when the sun hits her, it is like an instant smile appears on her face.  We talk about people as having a God-vacuum in their soul and they thirst for only what God can provide.  Well, Danica has a tropical sun vacuum that only 30 degree weather can satisfy.

So cold yet so fun!

After a busy week at work I really love our Saturdays and Sundays.  Saturday morning in Burundi is very interesting because nobody in the whole country is allowed to drive between the hours of 7:00 am and 10:30 am.  The reason is that it is ‘community clean up time.’  Which means that everyone is supposed to spend a few hours cleaning up the garbage around their place.  We don’t really participate in this because our night watch guard does it for us, so we usually sit inside and play with the boys.  By the time 10:30 rolls around, we are all ready to hit the pool.  After 3 or 4 hours at Hotel Club Du Lac, we have the whole rest of the day to do whatever we want…which usually isn’t much.  There isn’t too much to do here in Bujumbura.  At home we could visit people or go shopping or whatever else, but here there are not too many options.  This is almost a blessing in disguise because it forces us to sit and read books or chat with our neighbours or play with the boys.  Currently I am into reading books that are written in French for tweens, which usually involves either medieval dragons and knights or the baby-sitters club.  Danica has the kindle, so getting good novels for her has not been hard at all.

All in all the ability to relax here is available to all, and coming from a busy life in North America, it is very much appreciated 🙂