Mariha

Mariha - winter. Mariha is getting its last bite of the season in. We have been having very nice weather, but a cold front blew in early this week, winter's last blast. We had just returned from a short trip to South Africa and Swaziland where it was even warmer. We arrived home to a forecast that said cold was on the way.

Now, our nice coal heater had left us. Its owners had returned from the U.S., and with three little children, including a three month old baby, they needed it more in their new house than we. So we would be using electic heaters for the last few weeks of winter. With the cold front forecast I headed out to stock up on electricity units. Ah, my surprize and dismay to learn that while we were on vacation the electricity company had been advertizing forthcoming upgrades to its vending system and that no electricity would be sold from Aug. 6-8. Just back from vacation we had enough units to easily cover a week or more of regular use, but electric heaters eat a lot of electricity. We would be able to use them only sparingly until we could but more units. It would be a cold few days, but rather an extra layer or two than to be without hot water or lights.

A day or so later, the folks who had taken their coal heater kindly lent us a propane heater. Ah, welcome heat, though I knew my propane tank was low. On the coldest morning of the last four weeks it all came together. We had went out to buy electicity units, but the new system was down. Now, on that cold morning the propane ran out. Aeeii, it was a cold morning in the house. Staying snuggled under that extra blanket was where I would have liked to stay. BUT we did have hot water, and still enough electricity units for the basics for another few days. As well, the local corner store was open early so I was able to pick up propane. In addition, I am sure the new vending system will be up later today. We will be warmer and more comfortable soon enough.

This brief experience has again reminded me of how blessed we have been here. For most of the winter we had the coal heater which made our house so comfortable. I was also reminded of what is normal for our Basotho friends. Every morning they get up to no heat, very often no electric lights, and no hot water. In a cold house they get up and light a candle or lamp. Next is to light a paraffin heater to warm water to bathe. This is the routine for each of our girls in the Mustard Seed program, and sometimes there is no parrafin to heat the water. Yes, my life is so comfortable and I have so much to be grateful for, ... even in mariha.

For those interested, I will post a travelogue on our trip in the next week or so.

~ Benno ~

Mountain Passes and other Engineering Marvels

In July the Mustard Seed took our girls who last year successfully completed their school grade on a trip into the mountains. The trip was to visit a couple of sites that are part of the Lesotho Highlands Water Project. This water project transfers water from the Orange/Senqu River basin to the Vaal River basin, an inter-basin transfer that provides water demanding Gauteng Province - the industrial and population heartland of South Africa, including Johannesburg - with a additional water source. Along the way the water generates hydro-electricity for Lesotho. The project is considered a remarkable engineering feat, but it is something that many local Basotho never get to see. So on a Monday morning we loaded up our girls and headed for the hills.

The three scholars.

Our first stop was Katse Dam, until last year, the tallest concrete dam in all of Africa, though now second to a recently completed dam in Ethiopia. To arrive at the dam meant traversing a mountain pass. What I keep forgetting is that "mountain pass" has a different meaning in Lesotho. It is not a road through or between mountains, it is a road over the mountains.

Twisting and turning, snaking up grades in first gear, we arrived at a hair pin turn just before the final climb to the summit. It was an engineering feat. Before the road was built, the turn would have been air. On a tiny spur of the mountain the engineers had build castle sized retaining walls to hold enough rock and rubble to construct a turn out over what once had been air. This first pass was the worst (or most spectacular, depending on one's frame of reference).

The "pass" is just left of centre on the ridge line.

We topped out at 3090 metres with two other passes at 2650, and 2510 metres.

The top.

Looking down from the top of the pass.

It was a cold and windy day, with snow flurries (in July), so the tour of the dam was chilly until we got "inside". I didn't know that a concrete dam would have tunnels, pretty big tunnels, and I found it just a bit disconcerting wandering around "inside" a dam that was holding back billions of litres of water. "Don't these tunnels weaken the stucture?", was what I was thinking.

The dam face through snow flurries.

Our chaperone, with her six week old baby on her back.

Looking down the spillway.

The next day we were off to the power plant a considerable distance from the dam. (The water travels 45 kms via tunnel. We had to take the road). This road was not the twisting, snaking, ordeal of the previous day. After that drive, this was a pleasure. I was able to reach speeds of 80, 90, even 100 kms per hour. Ah ... , but I had to temper my exuberance and consider the others that I shared the road with - cars, taxis, slow moving trucks, pedestrians, fellows pushing wheelbarrows, cows, sheep, ox drawn carts.

The girls enjoyed the power station the most. Maybe it was the crazy ride in the back of open pick-up into the bowels of the earth to reach the power plant. The power plant is buried deep in the Clarens sandstone. The crazy ride took us some 600-700 metres into the mountain. By the standards of some of the giant hydro-electric projects in Canada it was small, but it was remarkable that the whole project was under ground.

We finished off the tour with a stop at a historic site. While I found this quite interesting the girls found it less exciting. Then it was back home. Two days, six hundred kilometres of paved road, and over 10 hours of driving. I was beat, but iI do admit I am looking forward to a future trip we hope to take into the mountains. That trip will take us over mountain passes that exceed 3200 metres.

A traditional kitchen.

4000+ year old San rock paintings.

The other 'guy' on the trip.

This is the little fellow who was born in a school classroom.

~ Benno ~

Mustard Seed Happenings

It is past due to provide a couple of updates on what the Mustard Seed is doing. The last few months have been relatively quiet really. The school year is up and running, and our focus has been on implementing some plans that we had developed earlier. Things will get busier in the next couple of months as we will be winding up the society's fiscal year, and begin the process of planning for the next school year. But here is a bit of information on some of our recent activities.

Cherish Camp: This was a four day workshop we held at the beginning of April. Eight of our girls attended, actually seven of our girls. The eighth was someone from the community who was invited by one of our girls who was so excited about what she learned the first day she had to bring a friend, who has become a Mustard Seed associate.

Girls here face very similar challenges to girls anywhere I guess. They too have needs for acceptance and belonging, and they too have hormones and all that that entails. The focus of the camp was to invite the girls to accept themselves for the special creation they are in God's eyes, that they are valued and loved and complete in him, and that He has a plan for good in their lives. The workshop then invited them to make choices that would build positively on the special creation they are. It was a timely topic.

A number of our girls are struggling, like adolescents anywhere, to discover who they are and what they want. Then there are peer pressures, some good, but too many encouraging them to follow I life of living for the moment. But in the context of Lesotho, living for the moment, even briefly, often has life-long consequences from which it is difficult to recover - extreme poverty, abuse, illness, disease, and no hope for a future. Second chances are hard to come by, here. Our desire is to see our girls develop a dream for their future, a dream that will help them made better choices. One girl wants to be a lawyer, and I have been inviting her to picture herself in her robes before a magistrate. A more concrete dream that hopefully will better enable her to assess whether her choices are helping her move towards that dream or getting in the way of her dream.

Rapt attention for the facilitator, Ruth.

Food, part of any workshop, ...

... as is fun.

With their completion certificates.

One four day workshop is only a start however, and recently we got the girls together for a Cherish Day. Under the guidance of 'M'e Lerato, one of our Masotho board members, they talked about what they had learned at the workshop, how they were applying what they learned, and the challenges they faced in making wise choices. They had fun, but were also serious about seeking to encourage and support each other to choose wisely.

Maths Tutoring: A second major activity we are implementing is providing the girls with extra help with their Maths (here it is 'maths', not 'math'). It has been hit and miss to fit the tutoring sessions into their lives, but we are making progress, and now during the winter school break we are holding what we are calling Maths Camps.

One of Wendy's former students is working with a number of girls for four hours a day for four days, reviewing what they learned in the first half of the school year, and introducing them to some of the topics they will cover in the final months of the year. I am not sure how Maths is taught in the schools here, but most students struggle. It has been encouraging to see a girl, with some tutoring, increase her Maths marks from failing to passing grades and to see her joy and building confidence.

Meanwhile, God continues to provide and invite me to continue to trust him one step at a time. At the house we are currently in, and can stay in for another few months, we have been able to adapt space in one of the outside rooms into a classroom/meeting space. What a blessing this is. Our home is in a somewhat central location and this makes it much easier for the girls to get to this classroom than to the space we had used for a while. I continue to marvel at how God continues to provide what we need.

Ausi Moselentja: We still have not started building a little house for Ausi Moselentja and her family. Through some past work of 'M'e Lerato, Ausi is now living in an outside room at a near neighbor's, a room where she can have her three younger siblings with her, and where she can also cook. Now the family is not spread about with various neighbors with the place to cook at yet a another neighbor. I am having to trust that the roadblocks in getting started on the building of the house is in God's hand and in time, the right time, we will be able to move forward.

Ausi Moselentja continues to be source of inspiration. She has so little materially, she has so much in terms of responsibility, yet just knowing that there is some one thinking of her brings a huge smile to her face. If anyone has nothing it is she, and being able to bring a bit of encouragement and support into her life is good for the soul.

Thanks for your thoughts, and for those of you who pray for the Mustard Seed, thanks for your prayers. I also want to thank God for those who continue to provide funds now and then. Each day we have the resources we need to continue to serve girls here in Lesotho.

~ Benno ~

Learning Sesotho and Other Things

Trying to learn Sesotho has given me is a much greater appreciation for individuals who master languages other than their birth language. I also marvel at language itself, how it is that we communicate in such a highly complex manner. Each language is different, how ideas are crafted differ, yet speakers in whatever language converse; sharing ideas, conveying needs and perspectives, and telling stories.

My Sesotho lessons now include translating a Sesotho language news article. Since I am just a beginner, I don't always understand the headlines, which are often cryptic attention grabbers and not necessarily proper grammatically, so I never know what I will learn, not just about language but about culture. In a recent article I came face to face with the complexity of numbers in Sesotho. Numbers one to ten are quite straightforward but after that ... after that even Basotho are know to prefer English terminology. The article referenced ages. Here is my best attempt at a literal translation of one phrase containing a number. "A man whose years of tens they are two, of units they are two," - in other words, a twenty two year old man. The rest of the story turned out to be another example of a custom I have referenced before, where a man/youth who wants a wife, just takes one.

In this article the twenty two year old man had seized "a girl whose years they are ten and of units they are four" to be his wife. The most troubling aspect of this story was that although it is against the "law of Lerotholi" (the royal law of Lesotho) to seize a girl so young, her parents' involvment of the police (what the news article was reporting) was to seek assistance to obtain the payment of "cows, they are six", which in that village was the customary payment for so seizing and violating an unmarried girl. This payment would be in addition to the bride price that the man's parents would subsequently negotiate with the girl's parents.

More and more I am hearing and learning of this practice, and those I talk with continue to add to my understanding that this is not a random, infrequently occurring practice, but rather a common continuing practice in many parts of Lesotho. If a man/youth fancies a girl he simply seizes her and takes her home to his parents, and he has himself a wife.

What I am also learning as I work on translating news article is that news here is not a lot different than news back in Canada. News here too, tends to focus on the troubling side of human experience, not about positive events. News tends to more often record the depths of man's selfish and violent actions, and here, the often equally violent response of 'village justice'.

So learning Sesotho is becoming a mixed experience for me. I marvel at the fabric of language, man's ability to communicate. Yet, in gaining some ability to understand another language I am saddened. Despite all that language offers humanity in terms of communicating and in reconciling differences, evil incarnate remains in our midst. Sadly, irrespective of our culture and language, a common response of mankind to differences it seems, is too often abuse, violence, and selfish actions.

Oh, that the Prince of peace might reign in hearts.

~ Benno ~

July Snow Showers

Snow!! In Africa!! I have now experienced it.

I realize that for for those of you in Alberta, Canada who have been having snow in May, the last thing you may want to hear of is more snow. But it was a novel experience to stand outside in the cold and take in a snow flurry, something I had not experienced in over three years now.

We have been having frosty nights. A day or so back I was wistfully thinking how much nicer a real windshield scraper would be rather than the bank card I was trying to scrape frost off the windshield/screen with. The forecast for last night was cold-cold, as in -7 to -8. Still I was surprized when I went out this morning (15 June 2010) and noticed a few flakes of snow on the vehicles. We had had a brief flurry during the night, the only remnants being on the roof of the vehicles where it had not melted. Ahh, but more was to come.

The wind grew bitter and the clouds closed in, as I was hanging out some laundry. Then at about 8:30 a full fledged snow squall broke. There were now more than a few flakes on the vehicles and the grass was turning white.

It was bona fida snow. :-) I quickly got the camera to record the proof, and enjoyed a few minutes being out in the cold AND snow. I took a walk down town. It was empty. Folks it seemed were staying home and indoors where there was a bit of warmth.

Alas, it did not last long. Within a couple hours the snow had melted away, and now the sun is shining. There is no forecast of any further snow, though the cold weather, with -5 to -7, is forecast to remain for a few more days.

So now I have experienced snow in every month of the year but July; August through May in Alberta and June in Lesotho. In July I will be taking a trip into the mountains with road passes above 3,000 metres, so I may yet experience snow in every month of the year.

There was one other blast of cold from the past this morning. Having hung out the laundry before the snow flurry I went out to shake the snow off the clothes once the flurry had passed. The clothes were stiff and frozen. The advent of clothes dryers had made this experience a thing of the past for most of us, and to say I remember those days ... well, I guess that dates me a bit, eh?

Keep warm all. :-)

~ Benno ~

Suffering

On the morning of 24 Oct. 1931 Amy Carmichael prayed, "Do anything Lord, that will fit me to serve Thee and help my beloveds." Later that day she fell into a pit and sustained injuries that were to leave her house bound and in pain until her death nearly twenty years later.1

Amy Carmichael had left home, family, friends, had eschewed marriage, all to serve God by caring for orphans and others. Her efforts had led to the building of residences, schools, and medical facilities that served children and other poor and needy persons in southern India. She had given her all for Christ. So why would God cause her to suffer. I was angry with God when I read this part of Ms Carmichael's story. I still feel vestiges of anger even now, weeks later. Some people make their life a hell by the choices they make, but this was God, making life hellish for one who had served him faithfully. This does not fit my image of a loving and compassionate diety? Nor does it fit my perspective of "life to the full".

As I shared my frustration with this story with others, they would considerately point out that as Christians we are called to participate in Christ's suffering. Yet, if I understand the biblical story correctly, Jesus experienced incredible physical suffering, yet this suffering lasted less than 24 hours. Then if was over. He died. I accept that he set aside his godhood to become man. Is that what is meant by Christ's suffering? Amy Carmichael suffered pain that deprived her of sleep most every night for twenty years. Another woman of faith who endured the horrors of a Nazi prison camp and tramped the world over proclaiming God's goodness, spend her final years, (not days) imprisoned in her own body, near the end not even able to open her eyes.2 God's reward for a life of service? Or Florence Nightingale, another woman who left wealth and privilege and title to serve her Lord, but in her last years was a discouraged and exhausted, frustrated and sometimes irritable old woman in chronic poor health.3,4 If such suffering is one's reward in this life for serving God wholeheartedly, why would I want too.

Others have offered that suffering in this life will leads us to appreciate the promise of heaven more. But for me that reduces Christianity to "pie in the sky" bye and bye. What kind of religion is that? An insurance policy? A fiction that helps me to endure the rigours and pains of this life, without which I would fall into dispair? This certainly is not the kind of religion that appeals to me.

I pick up a book, Inspiring Women of Faith, and in reading it I find myself questioning my own faith and the God I purport to believe in. So where does this leave me? The incredible irony is that it takes me back to Biology 101. Biology 101, as I have written before, introduced me to the wondrous and incredible complexity of the single cell. Even the complexity of a single protein molecule in any one, wondrous, cell defies any possibility of having spontaneously arisen from a primodial soup that may have existed sometime in our earth's history.

Then there is consciousness. If I believe the evolutionist then I essentially came from a rock (as one of my Red Deer life group guys used to say), or from dust and gases swirling about the universe. Is it possible for consciousness, - memories of a past, a sense of the present, aspirations for a future - to arise from dust and gases? I am not convinced. Finally, there is the presence of evil in this world. Evil that is pervasive and destructive. The evil of man's inhumanity to man surpasses anything even remotely observed in the natural world. Evil is incarnate, not a random mutation. So where does that leave me? I find myself between a rock and an inscrutable God.

If a rock is my father, than life is essentially devoid of meaning or purpose. Why bother trying to made a difference? Why bother trying to enhance the situation of another? Life becomes simply a quest to eat, drink, and be merry - "He who dies with the most toys wins." But what does he win? Soloman had this somber thought to offer:

Man's fate is like that of the animals; the same fate awaits them both: As one dies, so dies the other. All have the same breath; man has no advantage over the animal. Everything is meaningless.5

If a rock in my father, then what does it matter that species are preserved? The same fate awaits them and us when the sun finally consumes our world. And what does it matter that I care about another? So what if death comes earlier to them than for some other? Maybe they are just spared more days of despair and meaninglessness. Death awaits us all ..., if a rock is my father.

However, if there is a God who is my father... ? If there is a God who is my father then what awaits is a whole new set of challenges. If the prospect of a protein molecule spontaneously forming is incomprehensible, what about a God that pre-existed the universe, who has existed from everlasting? This may be the biggest challenge. Ironically it is again science that hints at the existence of something or someone greater than our known physical universe, someone or something lurking at the door. The exerpts below are all from a National Geographic website. (If you want to check out any article, click on the first few words of each exerpt.)

"Dark flow" is no fluke, suggests a new study that strengthens the case for unknow, unseen "structures" lurking on the outskirts of creation.

New Theory: Universe Created by Intelligent Being (Headline)

Recently gathered data from exploding, dying stars called supernovae have revealed that the universe is not only expanding, as predicted, but that its rate of expansion is accelerating. The only force that could explain such cosmic acceleration is a source of energy, not visible or yet identified by scientists, that permeates the entire universe. Physicists have dubbed the mysterious force "dark energy."

The first stars and galaxies formed only because there is dark matter, which is credited for providing the blueprint for the growth and structure of the universe as we know it today.

"I often point out that we would not exist if it were not for dark matter," said Paul Steinhardt, a physicist at Princeton University in New Jersey and co-author of the article on dark matter.

Dark matter is estimated to account for 26 percent of the universe and it si much more abundant than ordinary matter,which makes up just 4 percent of the universe. (The remaining 70% of the universe is considered 'dark energy'.)

"Since there is more dark matter than ordinary matter, dark matter dominates the process," said Steinhardt. "The ordinary matter is like froth moving about on an ocean of dark matter."

Maybe Isaiah was not so far off when he wrote,

Surely the nations are like a drop in a bucket; they are regarded as dust on the scales; he weighs the islands as though they were fine dust.6

The writer of Hebrews added,

By faith we understand that the universe was formed at God's command, so that what is seen was not made out of what was visible.7

Paul, referring to Christ, wrote

For by him all things were created: things in heaven and on earth, visible and invisible, whether thrones or powers or rulers or authorities; all things were created by him and for him. He is before all things, and in him all things hold together.8

Maybe believing in a God is not that far fetched. And believing in the existance of God as my father does account for the kindnesses of man to man that do happen every day in this world. Despite the power and presense of evil, good also exists. Beauty exists. Love exists. Despite my doubts and questions I want to believe that life is more that a fight to pass on my genetic code. Nonetheless, I continue to struggle accepting the actions of a sometimes seemingly capricious God. I argue with God. Persecution and suffering at the hands of non believers I can understand, but years of suffering inflicted by God and not man, that I cannot see as love. Like Job, I seek answers, and like Job I suppose I will end of up crying out,

"I am nothing - how could I ever find the answer.

I will cover my mouth with my hand.

I have said to much already.

I have nothing more to say."9

The last word (almost) I will leave to Isaiah,

"For my thoughts are not your thoughts,

neither are your ways my ways,"

declares the LORD.

"As the heavens are higher than the earth,

so are my ways higher than your ways

and my thoughts than your thoughts."10

Despite Isaiah's words, I confess I am fearful of repeating Amy Carmichael's prayer.

~ Benno ~

1 Sam Wellman, Inspiring Women of the Faith (Barbour Publishing, Inc. Ohio,2008) 265 & 282.

2 Ibid., 382-384

3 Ibid.,

4 http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/uk_news/magazine/8674265.stm

5 Ecclesiastes 3:19

6 Isaiah 40:15

7 Hebrews 11:3

8 Colossians 1:16,17

9 Job 40:4,5

10 Isaiah 55:8,9

Bits and Pieces

I was noticing I felt a bit chilly in the house some days back. It was just a tad uncomfortable. Then I remembered I was wearing only a short sleeve shirt. It is winter in Lesotho, and last year at this time I was wearing long underwear, three or four layers on my torso, and often wrapping myself in a blanket to keep warm. Yes, I may be adding to green house gas emissions, but I am enjoying the comfort of the coal heater in our current residence. It is a wonderful, though maybe small, pleasure, not to be taken for granted.

Kids everywhere have their sports heros and dream of being a star. The busy field across from our house hosted a two day kids football (soccer) tournament a past weekend. The kids were dressed in an array of team colours, some of the uniforms looked like they had been borrowed from local men's league teams. The fans had their vuvuzelas and the incessant drone of a few dozen of them reminded me of what those of you who tune in to the World Cup will hear from stadiums across South Africa over the next number of weeks.

The sound of the vuvuzelas intensified after a goal was scored and players raced around the field just like their football heros who will soon be visiting South Africa. As kids in Canada emulate the celebrations of their NHL hockey heros, these kids too celebrated like their heros; a couple of players to the extent of whipping off their jerseys and racing about with them held aloof, flapping in the air.

These Shoeless Joe's were part of a fairly skilled team.

The footwear of those who participated varied from soccer shoes, to cheap runners, to soccer socks only, to bare feet. Unlike hockey, kids in soccer can get by without the proper shoes, but it must hurt to get stepped on by another's cleated soccer shoe.

Sesotho: Every week after my Sesotho lessons I gain more and more respect for the people of Lesotho. So many that we meet are able to converse in English, though their language in the home and on the street is Sesotho. Indeed, I have a growing respect for anyone who knows more than one language, and what people will do in terms of learning a language to move ahead. One Mosotho woman we know took her physician's training in Russia some years ago. Why Russia I don't know, but since the language of instruction was Russian she had to learn Russian. There are many such examples of Basotho who have traveled to foreign countries for educational opportunities, learned the language of instruction, and graduated with degrees taught in Chinese, Afrikaans, Russian, or some other language. Me, I am struggling just to converse a bit in Sesotho, never mind trying to complete a university degree.

And learning to converse means trying to grasp the structure of Sesotho. Verbs, for example, can differ based on who is doing the action and who/what is the recipient of the action. "Kea tsamaile" - I walked. "Ke tsamaisitse pere" - I walked the horse. (I won't get into kea vs ke.) Then there is grammatical structure. I was trying to say that someone borrowed my shirt to wear to graduation. Part of the literal translation of the Sesotho read, "He borrowed shirt of mine that he it wear ... ." Then add in the subtle differences in words. There is the potential for a very different response from someone I tell that a Mustard Seed girl I work with has become like a morati (lover) when I mean morali (daughter)!!

My head still hurts after my Sesotho lessons. And my progress seems so slow. I guess I can take some comfort in that it is apparently easier for younger children to pick up another language than for a old guy like me. One encouragement is the medical research that suggests learning and using a second language may help keep Alzheimer's at bay for a couple more years.

Salang hantle (stay well all),

~ Benno ~