IT WILL COME

I chose this picture of a Sudanese gal because she looks like she is patiently waiting. For what, I am not sure. But she sits there at the corner of her house, waiting for whatever will come next for her.

And whatever is next WILL come. "It will come." I’m getting used to hearing this expression. I’ve heard it countless times in the last few months— from different people and in different languages and in a variety of forms. In French, the direct translation is, “Cava venir”— it will come. In context, “it” being whatever it is that I want at the time and, of course, meaning that it will come in time.

And that’s where I am realizing that I can have a problem. I’m learning that I don’t like to wait for things to come in time. Africa is teaching me that I'm more of an “instant gratification girl” than I had thought.

My French tutor, Phillipe, uses a related phrase when I get frustrated with my pronunciation. When I am discouraged and assume that I should be speaking quickly and fluently, he says to me, “Trina, petit-a-petit”, or “little by little” it will come. This of course originates from the African proverb, “Petit-a-petit, l’oiseau fait son nid,” meaning, “Little by little, the bird builds its’ nest.” Little by little Trina learns to understand and speak French. There is no instant gratification with language learning.

And this very true expression is also common in Kirundi, “buke, buke” (little by little) and in Swahili “pole, pole”. I hear it from Virginie, my co-worker at World Relief when I try to hurry to understand something… and I hear it from Gervais, the coach with whom I like to play tennis: “Buke, buke” as he makes a hand motion indicating that I need to slow down… I even hear it from Desire, the young guy who works at the tennis courts. When playing last week and frustrated that I missed a shot, I heard this small voice with a Kirundi accent saying, “Trina, cava venir.”

Cava venir. It will come. French. My work at World Relief. Getting this culture. Peace and progress for Burundi. Marriage. Life. Becoming like Christ. Cava venir. As my Burundi friends translate this truth into English: “Slowly by slowly, it will come.”

MUSEE VIVANT

The week after Sudan, the Good Shepherd team joined us here in Bujumbura. It was so fun to host them—to give them a tour of Buj, to show our work with refugees in Nyanza-Lac, to have them meet our friends and co-workers, and to play.

The last day (and actually a bit of highlight for me, because it was just so fun and a little crazy), we took them to “Musee Vivant” (“Living Museum”) where an assortment of the wild animals of Burundi can still be found (we no longer have elephants or lions, but can claim hippos, crocs and snakes!). To Brandon’s delight (and Sarah Beeghley’s chagrin), the rules of such places are MUCH more relaxed than in the States… we had the freedom (led by our English friend and crocodile enthusiast, Simon) to jump in the cages with the crocs and tug on their tails, to hold baby crocodiles, and to watch, within a few feet, a trainer play with a very deadly cobra (outside a cage!). As the pictures convey, the day was fun and adventurous… and a pleasure to share with our friends and mentors from Good Shep. I think our friend Brando had the most fun:

SUDAN

This is Yei, Sudan. Surprisingly green, flat with rocky mountains peaking in the distance. People everywhere (recently returned to the area after the war), now living in small, grass-covered tookles like this building to the right. They lived together- families, friends, neighbors- on miniature compounds of 4-6 tookles. One tookle would be for cooking, one for the goats, and the others divided between certain family members. There were signs everywhere to stay on the roads because of the danger of land mines, and military camps and NGO vehicles were in abundance.

Seth and I arrived in Sudan on a Monday. We came in on a small, 20-passenger plane whose one engine cut in and out and flamed intermittedly, making us just a little nervous. The airport was a small building and the runway, dirt. We were picked up by a guy named Nehemiah, right from the plane... no security checks, customs, or forms.

On bumpy roads that rival those of Tanzania, Nehemiah drove us to the Good Shepherd team, already engaged in work. We first met up with Rakel and Janice at the women's conference... what a fun reunion! Multiple hugs. Statements like "I can't believe I am actually seeing you right now!" And arm pats to ensure we were actually seeing one another in person. I stayed with them, and Nehemiah took Seth to meet up with Jonathan and Brandon at the pastor's training seminary.

Our time in Yei was very good. We got up each morning for a breakfast of eggs and bread (with peanut butter brought from the US) and instant coffee and Nido and enjoyed rice and beans for the other two meals. After the guys were dropped at the training center, us girls went to the conference. The women that I got to meet that week were incredible. They were leaders in their churches, wives of pastors, and all had stories of hardship-- losing children, unfaithful or abusive husbands, conflict in their church, etc. I heard some of their stories, prayed with them, sat with them, held their hands and their children, and was blessed by their smiles (see picture of me with a beautiful Sudanese woman named Leah) and their hearts.

And Seth (and Brandon and Jonathan) had a similar experience with the men. More incredible people with incredible stories. Hearts to learn and be changed. Passion for God and learning His word. Deep desire to teach and impact their people for Christ. Below are a couple pictures of the gentlemen we met at the pastoral training center:















The early evenings were a highlight for me. I love the golden hour lighting and the time of settling-- dinner preparations and the gathering together and discussions of the day. Most days, Seth and I wandered among the tookles behind the compound where we stayed and had the privilege of greeting and talking to many people:



















And here's Seth. Doing the thing that he loves most, and does best. As a contribution to our trip, Seth made a video of the people of YEI and the work of ALARM (whom Good Shepherd partners with there) .

BEST SMILE

Seth and I voted this guy "best smile" in Sudan. His name is William, and he is the country director for ALARM there. He has one of those faces that is really easy to look at. And his smile is contagious. Deep lines. Dimples. Perfect teeth. Eyes that disappear. And the smile lines from his eyes nearly meet the smile lines from his mouth.

His smile is one that evokes a response. Whenever we talked with him, I couldn't help but smile back. And I wondered how he could smile like that. We didn't learn all the details of William's life, but I know that it hasn't been easy. Like many other Sudanese that we met, he lives in a tookle (a small, circular hut-like structure with a grass-thatched roof); he is separate from his family who lives in Uganda for better education for their children; and he took 2 days to get from Jubba (where he lives) to Yei (where we were) by bus, walking, and hitching because the roads in Sudan are crazy during rainy season (the trip should normally take around 4 hours).

While in Yei, Seth and I walked most evenings in the "suburbia" behind the compound where we stayed. ("suburbia" being a village of tookles grouped together... people cooking outside together over a fire... paths going from tookle to tookle). One afternoon, William walked with us, and talking with him and meeting many of the people living in those tookles, it hit me how incredible hard life has been for the people in Sudan. (obvious statement, I know, but there are those moments when it hits me in a new or a more profound way). I believe Sudan has the record for the longest on-going war in Africa. They now have peace, but are teetering on civil conflict again. There are signs everywhere warning people to stay on the roads because of the danger of mines. And everyone we spoke with could talk about where they came from... no one had remained in their home land. They were all from Yei, but had spent the last few years of the war as refugees-- in Uganda, in Congo, in the hills...

And yet it seemed that many of them, like William, could smile... could warmly greet us... and would openly talk about their lives with us. And it amazed us that their faces could contain so much joy and warmth and even hope.

(more pictures and thoughts from Sudan yet to come!)