Day 15

Wednesday, June 4, 2008
Tangaza
The van picked me up without incident, except it was already full when it got to me. The four Coasta Rican priests in training have moved to a different location and are now the first pick-up instead of the last. So, all the seats were already taken when I got on the van. I sat in the floor, which meant I could only see out of the van looking up into the sky. Its amazing how any different billboards I saw.
We returned to structured class today.

Bridewealth
The first hour we spend with all three classes together in the large lecture hall. This morning we heard three people give presentations of Bridewealth. While we are more familiar with dowry’s (the wife’s family has to pay) central and east Africa practice Bridewealth.
If a man want to marry a woman he must first get permission from the woman’s family. His pledge to marry the woman is followed by the gift of animals. Even in the modern world about 10% of the gifts have to be actually cows and goats. These cows and goats are not sold, but kept by the bride’s family, bred and nurtured. They become living reminders of the woman who has gone off to join the husband’s tribe and family.
If these gifts are not given and the couple marries legally, the families still consider the children illegitimate and the property of the woman’s tribe. If she dies without the payment being complete, her family will claim her body and her children at her death, which is a huge shame event for the father’s family. It further means that the biological dad is no longer called a father.
In their societies it functionally is a system to redistribute wealth and protect children. If the man is unable to pay, he is unable to support a family, therefore he must wait to marry. Due to financial strain and poverty many couples are skipping getting married, living together, having children plunge the whole group into even greater chaos. It sounds like the U.S.

African Culture: An Overview
I could not shake being incredibly sleepy in my main class. I had to work hard to keep from falling asleep. Part of my mind and body knows that when I sit down in that class it is about 2:00AM back home. My body is well trained to be asleep at that time. I’m so thankful for the tea break when it comes. I try to down a couple of cups to try to get the caffeine working for me.
In this class session we were taught about rites of passage, naming traditions, and taboos.

Two stories stand out.
Just two days ago a Hyena attacked a home (far from here in a rural area). The animal reached into the home and grabbed a 10-year-old boy by the head and dragged him out of the house. The 12-year-old brother both heard and saw it and in an instant jumped onto the Hyena and began to beat it to let go of his brother. It turned on him and they struggled. The older boys hands and arms were broken in the fight, but he was able to drive the beast away. It has been relatively big news.
Our teacher today talked about the process of teaching boys to be courageous and why they put them through ordeals of pain. He pointed to this story saying that by the time of this boys life he has already been trained to be courageous through specific rights of courage. Circumcision is practiced here, but it does not happen in the hospital, it does not happen when they are young, but happens when they are 10 or 11 without any painkiller.
Also in the news this week was a story of a man who tried to poison his wife, but the children got to the food first. When told about their deaths his immediate response was, “What about the mother, is she still alive?”
This made the police very suspicious. The elders of his community believed he had done the poisoning, so they prepared for a ceremony that guarantees truth, the “Gucuna Kiviu” which means “red hot knife.” A knife is taken and heated until it glows red. Then the accused person must lick the knife. If they are telling the truth they will be able to do it, if they are lying they will get burned. He did not lick, but confessed.

Depression
I came back to Flora tired and feeling defeated. One of the issues I realized later in the evening is that when we get on the van the five Spanish speakers dominate the conversation and make it impossible for others to talk. They seem in their own world. It is worse in the afternoon because I am the only non-Spanish speaker on the van. The rest of the group has a different ride in the afternoon. By the time the 45 minute ride back to Flora is over I am feeling really pushed to the side.
I went to go to try to get my email sent and to see if I had any messages. The Internet was crawling. I could barely get anything to work and had to keep reloading pages. It took nearly an hour to get my one email sent and to post the three last days on the blog. By the time an hour had passed I was really discouraged and feeling really lonely.
I came back to my room and struggled with my paper for a while, but did not make any good progress. I decided to take a nap. I lay down and listen to a song and then mercifully drifted away to sleep. The alarm roused me and about 40 min later and I went to dinner.

Italians Have Invaded
A group of the loudest rudest people have arrived at Flora. The have not read the quiet banner in the courtyard and they seem intent on ignoring everyone’s feelings in the place. They treat our eating area with contempt, complain about the length of the meals, and are rude to the server. When I went in to dinner tonight they had multiplied like rabbits.
The rest of us who have been at Flora all huddled in the opposite room. In a strange way it made all of us seem closer, more like friends as we tried to figure out how to share with this strange group.
Tonight sitting here thinking about these things makes me wonder how often I am in my own world, my own language, with my own group talking about the things I am interested in while people sitting right next to me are feeling isolated, alone and hurting.
I hesitate to write these things wondering who might be reading my blog and thinking me weak or a little childish to be feeling these things, but one of the reasons I came so far to something so foreign was to strip away some of the props that I use to hold up my life, that might not be producing the results I want.
I learned from Henri Nouwen that there are some things that you cannot learn until you are silent and alone long enough to clear out the noise of life. I don’t like all that I see in me, but that is precisely the point of really looking. I’m praying that God can use the openness to make me a better human, a better form of me.

The Night Sky
Before bed I went out and looked at the stars. You know that you are in a far country when you look up and cannot recognize a single star. I know they are there, but I just can’t see them from here. I feel disoriented. I’m praying to God that he will help give me a renewed compass.
I can really feel that I know intellectually that I am valuable for who I am, but functionally I live my life valuing myself for what I do. Right here right now I can do so little. I am like a little child that has to be walked to school.
Here in the crucible of the African plains I’m re-learning a truth that revitalized my life when I first learned it. I am loved. I am loved completely. I am loved before I accomplish anything. I am loved not for my competence, or my confidence, but because God is loving.
The huge strange night sky can make me feel alone and isolated, or cherished. I am trying to lean into the belief that among all the vastness of the universe, God chooses me. God notices me. God cares for me.
"Solitude is the furnace of spiritual growth" (Henry Nouwen).
Mind the Gap,