What Bible stories or verses come to mind when an Arab nomad friend shares with you that just outside of town, his family has had a feud with not-so distant relatives that involved knives and guns and resulted in 4 deaths, including one child? Many women were injured, some cousins are in the hospital recovering from operations. Reconciliation attempts were made by offering camels in return for the lives of men, but even those attempts towards reconciliation are viewed as a statement that they are enemies and no longer family. What words of hope and peace do you offer someone who has only been taught retaliation? What will it take to change the hearts, not just of individuals, but of entire clans who at their core are proud, judgmental, and many times unforgiving because their god is the same way? These are the questions I’ve been asking myself today.
A few weeks ago Isaac and I joined a group of friends for a 35km trip south of town to the large wadi (seasonal river) from which our town gets water. We had a great time, and learned a lot too. It felt a lot like a field trip in school.
The water is initially pumped from the wadi into a treatment station a few hundred yards away. Even during the dry season, there is water running underneath the wadi.
Most of the year, this is a river of sand, with the water retreating beneath the surface after the rains are gone.
There is a road, made of stones, that crosses the wadi, which is currently submerged under 6 inches of water.
The road crossing the wadi.
What mud?
Although not really planning on Isaac getting muddy from head to toe, I should have known better. As soon as they saw it, the kids catapulted themselves into the muddy water and we could only watch helplessly from the edge. “Oh well”, I thought, “at least there aren’t any crocodiles or hippos.” A little further south, the rivers have their share of both.
So after checking out the wadi, and Isaac falling into the muddy water several times, we headed back up to the treatment plant. We had gathered quite a crowd by that point, as is pretty normal when a group of white people are found wandering around in rural Chad.
Drawing a crowd…
So after waiting a few minutes for permission from the boss of the plant to give us permission, we entered the plant. You could hear the loud drone of the 810 KVA Caterpillar diesel generator that provides the power for the processing at the plant.
Diesel generator that powers the water treatment facility.
Of course a diesel generator is useless without diesel fuel, so there are two gigantic tanks for storing the stuff.
How long could I run the generator at my house with one of these?
Not the filter, but a date palm. Guess you can grow anything with limitless water.
Then on to the giant filter that filters out sand, debris, and who knows what else from the water that is pumped in from the wadi. This part of the process also adds calcium to the water (unless my French fails me). Why calcium? Why not eliminate giardia, amoebas, parasites, etc. at this point? If you drink a lot of this water in Abeche, you’ll know very soon that these things are alive and well, and you’ll have plenty of time to catch up on reading as you spend your days in the bathroom. Yes, I do speak from experience.
At last, after the filtering process the water is sent out to Abeche through four large pumps. This water travels 35 km and is stored in a large cement tank in Abeche until used.
Pumping water to Abeche
Water is a very interesting topic when you have to work so hard to get it. Of course, similar processes are involved in the U.S., but I always just took for granted that when I turned the faucet on, water came out. Magic. Endless. But now, when water comes from the city (a new phenomenon for us since the coming of rainy season), we scramble to fill up everything capable of holding water, not really knowing when water will be available again. When water isn’t available at our house from the city, we pay to have someone bring it by push cart, as I’ve mentioned before. So either way, we have a new appreciation for water.
And compared to those living in rural villages, we have it easy. Many women and girls walk miles to get water from wells during the dry season, which is most of the year. They carry it on their shoulders, or on the backs of donkeys. As has so often been the case since arriving here, stories from the Bible have come alive to us since the culture here hasn’t changed in many ways since Bible times. The daughters of Jethro trying to get water and being chased away by shepherds until Moses intervened, the Samaritan woman at the well, etc.
Please pray that we’ll be able to effectively relate these stories and others to the people here, and point them to the source of Living Water so that they will never thirst again.
Visited the palace of the Sultan the other day with some visitors, and I brought Isaac along. The Maba Sultanate dates back nearly 400 years, when it split off from the Sultanate of Darfur which encompassed western Sudan and eastern Chad. When the French finally conquered the region in the early 20th Century, the sultanate was all but destroyed. A puppet sultan was put in place to do the bidding of the French. But after Chad’s independence in 1960, the sultanate was restored. Today it exists, not officially as part of the Chadian government, but alongside the government. The sultan is allowed to run his own Islamic court to decide local matters, and is still very influential in the region. He has the traditional palace, where he no longer lives, but instead lives just across the street. His black Hummer is parked outside. And his pet ostrich is still kept inside the palace walls, fenced in (barely) and strutting around like he owns the place.
Isaac and Lillian pose in front of the ostrich.
Yesterday my house helper came excitedly to my house telling me of a 3 month old baby that everyone in town wanted to see. The baby supposedly had the word “Mohammed” written somewhere on her body, like a birthmark, and now she miraculously spoke three messages in Arabic related to praying and this current Ramadan season. I listened as my house helper told me how beautiful the baby was to look at and how my friend’s clothes were ripped because so many people were pushing their way into the compound to get a look at this baby “prophet” as they were calling her. People even said the president of Chad, Idriss Deby would come today to see the baby.
Today, I asked my helper if Deby came to town to see the baby. She told me that last night a respected Muslim leader in the town spoke on the local radio station to debunk any of the stories that had been rampant around town yesterday. He told the people he went there and saw the baby and none of the stories are true. The baby’s father and mother either made it all up or it was a demonic presence that they saw. Either way, they now have a stash of money from people who came to see the baby and thankfully this leader told the people on the radio to not believe what they heard.
Our believing friend had many people ask him yesterday what he thought (everyone knows he follows Jesus, is not currently fasting, and sees life differently because he follows the teachings of Jesus). He told them it was not true and today we were rejoicing in a small way that his steadfastness to Truth will today hopefully give him credibility amongst his non-believing friends. We pray that this sparks more conversations and opportunities for people to take a second thought at the things our friend has said about the gospel.
Regardless of whether the story of this “prophet” baby is a lie or something demonic, we are stricken with the grave reality that the vast majority of people living around us are so willing to believe anything but the Truth. They are in the middle of their month of obligatory fasting, hoping to add good points to their lives so God will accept them into paradise and they are even expectant they they may hear from Allah this month. When they do hear something that seems ridiculous to us, they believe quickly and with excitement. Our prayer is that the eyes of many would be opened to the Truth and that they would quickly and excitedly believe the best news of all – that hope is offered to them because Jesus died for their sins!
A month or more ago, I did a post on things I have learned since arriving in Chad. I was thinking recently of things that my children are also learning here. These are lessons we would want them to learn anywhere, however, some things they are learning quicker or more acutely because of living in Chad.
- We can’t be wasteful. If you break something, I cannot easily replace it. If you lose something, I cannot go buy another. We do not have Wal-Mart, Target, Hobby Lobby, etc. anywhere in our country, so I cannot replace toys, art supplies, etc as quickly. We are learning take good care of our possessions. We also are learning not to waste things like water because it is a precious resource. Even my kids know to pour their bath water onto the trees and to not leave the faucet running when washing hands.
- We must be grateful. For water to drink, even if it isn’t cold. Many people have dirty water that makes them sick. For food to eat even if it isn’t our favorite. Many boys are on the streets outside of our home begging for any morsel of food they can get, so we will eat our food with thankfulness and also be thankful for our family who loves us.
- God loves us because He is loving, not because we are deserving. The people around us are fasting and praying to earn God’s favor. We know that the only way we attain God’s acceptance is to believe that He has provided one Way for us to have peace and reconciliation with Him, and that is through His Son!
We recently went on a family vacation to southern Spain. Getting there was quite the experience. We took our guard’s family in our vehicle to their village and carried Josh’s Arab language helper all the way to N’Djamena. It was a two day driving trip plus a day by air to get to our final destination. Along the way, we had a few first experiences I thought some of you would enjoy hearing about!
We had to drop our guard’s family off in a village, and of course that involved bathroom breaks. When I asked where I could use the bathroom, they handed me a shovel and told me to go behind their (mud brick) house, use the bathroom, and then shovel it over the grass fence. Typically, you find Chadian style (hole-in-the-ground) toilets in villages and in towns here. I assume this is a new village and they just hadn’t gotten around to digging a hole!
The family we visited offered us drinking water that looked like it came straight from a lake. There was no way I could touch it, but it broke my heart, knowing they were giving us their best and this is the best they had to offer.
They tried to give us a duck as a gift for bringing the family to their village (they were so happy because they hadn’t seen the family in four years). We had to turn it down because we were going to the big city and had no way to cook it (not that we would have known anyways!).
Last but not least, we also tried camel’s milk later that night. Our Arab nomad friend stayed in the guest house halfway to N’Djamena and shared dinner with us. He was very excited to have found the camel’s milk in town and couldn’t wait for us to try it. My kids wouldn’t touch it, but I had a small drip on my tongue just to be polite. It was disgusting! I think it was a few days old, because it was very sour. Josh tried it once before and said it wasn’t quite so strong.
Today is my first Mother’s Day in Africa; it has been a day of much reflection and thanksgiving. It has been a very different day of celebrating than my past Mother’s Days. For one we don’t have a church that we attend, so no one asked me to join other mothers in standing for a moment of recognition. But, that is ok. I spent the entire day with my boys and was thrilled to be on the floor playing Legos, reading books, eating meals with them, singing songs, etc. Really, just the normal things we do every day together. I didn’t get a bouquet of flowers (although Josh arrived home from the capital this afternoon with a few Snickers bars that have my name on them!!) and I had to make all of my own meals…from scratch. But that’s ok. This Mother’s Day has been a very normal day in many ways, but I had the opportunity to slow down, be purposeful in each moment, and ask myself what things I have learned as a mom in the past 6 months since moving to Chad:
- God never fails me, never leaves me, and always supplies the words, wisdom, energy, and strength I need – even on the hardest (and hottest!) days.
- My husband is amazing in the way that he unselfishly serves me, helps make life as a wife and mother here as easy as possible, and provides for and protects me and our boys.
- Kids need stability and consistency and they especially need quality time with mom and dad. I am learning to look my kids in the eye when they talk, and really listen to what they have to say. I want them to know they are heard and important – even more so in a new environment where they often can’t communicate with others.
- My kids need traditions, things to look forward to – things that are always the same, day after day and year after year. For us, this means: our family Thanksgiving journal during November, Jesse Tree at Christmas, Lenten Tree at Easter, pancakes with sprinkles on birthdays, morning devotions, bedtime stories and prayers. Making a big deal about holidays is now solely my responsibility – if Josh and I don’t do something to signify a holiday, my children would return to America and never knew the day existed (like Valentine’s Day, Fourth of July, etc.).
- Nothing I do (not even missions) is more important than the time I invest in my kids. In many ways, I am a stay-at-home mom just like I would be in America. My house-work looks very different here, but my job is the same. I do want to learn language and have some ministry outlets here (just like I would in the States), but my first job is making sure my children learn to love the Lord and know that mom and dad love them too.
- Helping my kids maintain relationships with family back home requires being purposeful, but is so worth it. I am thankful for Skype to be able to have real face to face conversations (and singing/dancing sessions with grandparents and cousins!).
In many ways, mothering in a new country is very similar to mothering in America. In other ways, things are much different for me. I am grateful for how God is growing me and stretching me in motherhood in ways I wouldn’t pay much attention to in the States! Happy Mother’s Day!!
A new worker in town, me, and one of our friends at the wedding.
I had the privilege of attending my first wedding a few days ago. Remember the baby who was born prematurely? His mother’s sister is in the process of getting married. Yes, you read correctly. The wedding I attended was part 1 of 2. Part 1 is called a “fatee” – this is where male representatives of the bride and groom’s families meet together, formally agree to the marriage of their son and daughter, and the groom to be is expected to make a down payment towards the bride price. All of this happens relatively early in the morning and the bride and other women are in another compound, sometimes miles away. Afterwards, the men hang around, drink chai tea and juice, and play cards. Meanwhile, the bride is in a separate compound with her close friends and the other women in the family as well as close friends are in the mother of the bride’s compound cooking an elaborate meal of salad, sugar rice, goat, beets and potatoes, ground beef, etc. Around 2pm, the meal is served on a big platter and 6-8 people gather around to eat together. After this is finished, some girls from the bride’s family come very dressed up but still covered, sit together on a mat and sing songs. (I am trying to post a video but internet is slow now…).
The second stage of the marriage is still mostly a mystery to me at this point, but I do know that it is the time when the groom has raised all the required money to pay the family and the wedding is complete.
Chadian weddings are one topic of conversation, but Chadian marriages are a completely different subject. Soon, I plan to share with you the little I have heard, learned, and observed about marriages in this culture.
Isaac just turned four, and overnight he has started asking the “why” questions – many of which I don’t know the answer to. He is thinking deeply about the things he is learning from the Bible and asking questions over and over. Last week, he got very serious about the fact that our friends are praying to a false god and decided to do something about it. He stood at the outdoor restaurant close to our house with Josh and said, “God!” (In English.) No one heard him, so he said it a few more times. Still getting no response, he continued in English, explaining to the owner that he did not need to pray to the false god anymore because Jesus died on the cross for his sins. While we know we must speak the language of the people and share the gospel in a way that they will hear and prayerfully receive, we can’t help but be challenged by Isaac’s desire to share Jesus with those around us. (For now, we are glad he doesn’t speak a whole lot of Arabic, because the conversations could get a lot more interesting!! Although, he does say that he has to do “Arabic lessons” every day with his stuffed animals.)
Got my panels cleaned today, and remembered that I never did post a picture of the setup, so if you’re interested here it is. The metal frames were constructed by one of the MBBs here in town who is a welder. Same guy who built our water tower. Six panels, 185W each.
