62. Luayi, Tunemekele Nzambi. Remember? ( Praise God, From Whom All Blessing Flow.

Saturday night with no electricity sent most on to bed early. No bar across the street like at MPH.  But someone had a battery operated radio so we had music for awhile.  (I remember growing up -music from Ntolo’s village at nights at Lubondai.) Then all was quiet here and SO dark!

We had three choices for church today. The one here on the station that is mostly all of the school kids and Med students. A real Native village church with the log bench “pews” – unless you bring your own plastic chair. Or the church about 40_/- minutes away that is Marcia’s church. She often goes to it on the back of a motorcycle. She has a helmet of sorts! ;) What a missionary she is!

Left Tshikiji headed for Lukonga II for church at the church Marcia is a member of by the way of sort of heading to Mweka and sort of towards N’Desha – so now you know how we went. With sand pits to dodge and others to squiggle back and forth and get through, with washed out roads with gullies deeper the Land Cruiser, with sand pits as deep as the window of the Cruiser, with bunches of folks headed to Market and or church, with kids on the loose and little naked ones barely able to walk along the edges of the road, with bicycle loads of brick and charcoal – so heavy it was taking three grown men to push them up the hill, with dodging pot holes that at any minute can take out a tire, with the back end full of the Chauffeur’s family- Marcia did not know about-, with a stop along the way to pick up another man, with a stop at Pax to drop off the family, with a stop in the middle of a market place in Kananga to drop off the man, with being told we would have to leave at 12 noon because the car had to be back at 1 for an airport run, with Marcia calling the minister to tell him we had to leave at 12 and so lunch would have to be fast and with the car going so fast we all had a death grip on the handles in the car. It was a nerve wracking 40 minute trip with a queasy stomach when we arrived for me. Right into the minister’s dirt home we were escorted after shaking hands with the elders and other pastor. Dirt walls and pounded clay floor, the smell I remember of being inside of a hut, family then coming to shake our hands and mom and chicks scurrying out the back door. I asked to go see the Babas cooking out back and also a young boy warming the drum skins for church. They were so honored I came out back. Called the foods by name and that also went over well in addition that I did it in Tshiluba! Then I saw the kids and went to them! Took out my phone and began to take and share pictures. It was Christmas! They wanted to see Mama Nseya and Tatu Kueta and touch our white skin. Got cute pictures .“Take mine, Mama!”  No time to get poses just snap and go! Did get my phone recharged in the car on the gut wrenching, head banging drive so I was all set for pictures.

Church began at 9:30 and I immediately spotted the communion table all set up. (When we were at Lubondai my Dad had the industrial school guys make communion tables for all of the little nearby village churches. He had them carve into the front of each table- “Thus Do in Remembrance of Me”. After days of making the tables one of the students asked, “Tatu, how many tables do we have to make before you are sure we won’t forget you?”) ;)) We were seated in green plastic chairs of honor to the left of the pulpit. No sound system this time so we did not get blasted by the speakers. We sang, danced, and clapped and oh did we take up the offering. I lost count after 7 and each had its own labeled plastic trash can container for the offering. First were the kids, and then Elders, Deacons, Women, Men, Youth, Pastor’s New House, Charity and on. Each member has a tally sheet they are given as they arrive and they have to write down what they are giving at each offering and drop it in at some point. Even Marcia got a tally sheet!  They then get the tally sheets and if you are there and did not turn one in, they come call you on it.  One way to make budget- I guess! Then all of the announcements and a Treasurer’s report of what each church group has been giving. The kids of all ages sit together up front and are so very quiet and well behaved. Lady Deacon was watching them like a hawk! Then they asked Ken to speak. And he did a great job. Told them he was one of them and use to drink out of the same stream they were still using! They “Humm, Tatu.” and then clapped. Then the sermon. Then more singing etc. Then Communion. Then at 11:30 -as the preacher had promised Marcia- we followed the preacher etc out and started shaking hands with the Babas and all of the kids attacking Ken and me. One lady remembered Mom and Dad Murray from their time at N’Desha Station. Native lunch in the Pastor’s home. We were given a basin with water poured over our hands, a bar of soap and a towel.  Ok, this is what was served- bedia, rice, spaghetti, greens and eggplant, chicken in palm oil, whole fried fish, peanuts, palm oil gravy, pineapple and bananas. A feast. The men and the three of us ate and the rest waited. We left right away and were driven this time through the Congo Army Military Camp since the car has a pass on it and only IMCK people were in the car. Roads were just as bad and then we met back up with the road to this station and had the sand, gullies and pot holes to dodge. Do you know how you head feels when you have been on too many Fair rides or gone too fast on a curvy road? My head is all wooly.

Rumor is that the electricity we came home to is the hydro and not the generator. So maybe John was finally able to rig the Hydro one more time. Bless his heart!! It is VERY expensive to get a whole new one but the parts are not much cheaper- if they can be found.  So they keep getting it to last as long as possible. The diesel for the generator is horrible expensive -at least a barrel a day.

Skyped with our son Jon yesterday. A little more of a delay here than in Kinshasa but still clear. Got caught up on Soccer- Emery scored her first goal on her  6^th birthday. Her birthday party was at a ceramics place. Football and Homecoming at TTU and life goes on. Electricity went out mid conversation! Jon sent a video of Emery scoring and the little rascal pumped her arm like Tiger Woods when she finished!

We made oven fried chicken in the AM and partially cooked potatoes and Chinese cabbage while we had elec. Then when the lights came back on at 7PM we heated up the potatoes and cabbage, I made cream gravy and we had a great supper. Used a hand masher for the potatoes and had to make the milk so I could make the cream gravy and mashed potatoes. Fun!

Lights went off early so dishes were done by candle light using the Braille System! Was trying to get the blog off to all of you so I did not get scores. Last we knew Tech was behind. But apparently that changed! Yea! 5-0! We heated water and put it in a thermos so we could have hot tea and coffee this morning. It also rained during the night. A short gentle rain so I got to hear the first Kasai rain on the tin roof!

Bicycle bell! Sweet memory sound. Looked up and on the bike’s handle bars and holding on for dear life  was a baby about two, being peddled by a 4+ year old with his leg under the bar and then about a 6 year old YaYa sister keeping it all balanced and going.

Ken is still smiling. His absolute happiness on this trip has all but enabled me to check off my Bucket List of this trip etc for him. Still have Lubondai to get in for him and then we’ll see what’s in store next!

Woke up to radio music instead of choir music. So someone had their battery radio on.  Sound travels so out here! We also have not had the usual forever choir practices each night since the lights have been out.

Saturday was laundry day. They wash it in a rubber bowl/tub on the porch, beat/ smash it sort of all rolled up against the cement to help wash it and then spread it out all over the ground and the bushes and plants nearby for drying. It was also hair doing day. Most of the men in Kinshasa and here have their heads shaved. The women in Kinshasa wear wigs or hair turbans to match their outfits. Here there are some wigs- but not the expensive ones so they look “wiggy.” But also here the school girls and Med school nurses have close cut hair. But today at church I saw it all- the braids all sticking out, close cuts, extensions and wigs. Just “ Stylin’.”

I have not seen any slithery things. Have not seen those jumping African Cockroaches my science teacher showed us. But have seen the one critter I was looking forward to seeing!! ;)) The clearish body lizards that scurry up the walls and across the ceilings.  My friend, Gail, in Hawaii, hates lizards and they are everywhere there. Well, this one has an unusual survival technique. When the predator gets too close, the lizard drops his tail and scoots on to safety and on to grow another one in awhile. So when this chase happens above the table you can get some tail with your meal. Have not really gotten any mosquito bites here in the bush country. Marcia says they are only out at dusk and dawn and we aren’t. Plus here we are sleeping under the net.

We are the animals in the zoo. If we don’t keep the little privacy curtains drawn-the kids especially- just stand out there against the fence and watch- “Hello, Whitie”. Guess they haven’t heard about Political Correctness! ;) There are a total of 5 whites -now that we are here- on the whole station. Not many more in this whole area about the size of Texas. A long retired peace core man, an older and retired ,German, lady doctor that runs an orphanage and a couple of visiting folks that come and go in Kananga. The people out front always ask for money or food. Marcia says they really don’t expect it but live in hope. Once we have now said no for multiple days, they just sit and wait for a glimpse of us! Several Americans are working here as independents with specialties in agriculture, education, roads, water, etc but raise their own funds through their churches etc and do not tie themselves to PCUSA or CPC. Sort of their own boss. Many of the former missionaries here in Congo have gone to Zambia, Lesotho, Malawi- all English base language plus tribal ones and to Cameroons where they can still use their French. These countries sort of have more infrastructures, though I use that term loosely.

I have been in either a dress or a skirt since we left Kinshasa. Miss my slacks. From 1965 ish – 1990ish it was against Mobuto‘s laws for ladies to wear pants. For some reason some still tow the line. Not the younger ladies both here and in Kinshasa. Times are changing. When he became President it looked good. But when it was time for a democratic election- as demanded by the West, he won by 100%. There were only two ways to vote. A Green for Mobuto and a Red for no. Only at many of these ballot boxes there were no red markers.  Hummm. Names were changed, had to pray to Mobuto before school, and after his visit to China he had a Green Book like Mao’s Red Book. Kabila, the Father took over next with a huge military coup  in the early 1990’s when lots of the missionaries left- some for good and others to return later. Kabila tried to continue a lot of Mabuto’s ways. He was later killed- poison – I think. Now his son is the leader. I’ll admit all of this is gleaned in the last four months from conversations- probably slanted-from different folks around the MPH meal tables. So divide by 100 and it still is not enough to get you a cup of bad coffee. Politics is often an ugly and evil game and very profitable for those in it- no matter the country or the era – modern to ancient and even Biblical.

Well, the lights might go out unless it really is fixed. Tomorrow is Kananga and N’Desha – where Ken and Marcia lived. Then Lubondai sometime this week.

Have a great rest of the day! Have a great week.

Love Ya, Me