THE TEAM, THE PURPOSE, THE TRIP

Lorne Strom
TEAM of Canada Director
January 1-18, 2009

THE TEAM AND PURPOSE

The trip to Zimbabwe was made up of 5 people we had asked to participate. Bud and Mandy Jackson, Rev Dr. Francis Mpindu, (from Toronto who would join us there later), my Dad (Wilf Strom) and myself. Our intention is to see what the opportunities are for the North American churches to engage and assist TEAM ministries and the local Evangelical Churches, especially in the area of compassion ministries such as the massive needs around HIV/AIDS and poverty.

JOHANNESBURG

We arrived in Johannesburg after a gruelling 10 hour flight from Vancouver to Frankfurt, a 12 hour layover there and a 10 hour flight from Frankfurt to Johannesburg. After arrival in Jo’burg we knew we had a 9 hour layover before our flight to Harare, so Mandy Jackson phoned her Aunt, who lived near the airport. A quick ride in the 1st world metropolis of Jo’burg hardly made us feel like we are in Africa, but arriving at their home brought Africa flooding into our nostrils, eyes and ears. The lush plants in the gardens, the birds in the trees and the accents of our hosts assured us we were on African soil. Some tea, lunch and a quick bath revived us enough to coax ourselves onto one more short flight up to Harare.

HARARE ARRIVAL

The arrival in Harare was a little overwhelming, both positively and negatively. As we looked out the window, taxing to the terminal, we could see that our 9:20pm arrival was probably the last flight of the day. One isn’t prepared for the stark contrast between Jo’burg and Harare. As we walked out the enclosed ramp to the plane, there were only 2 of about 8 fluorescent bulbs lighting the walkway. Then we entered the most dimly lit “arrivals hall” I’ve ever seen. We almost rubbed our eyes, thinking we were in a stupor. It almost appeared deserted, but two immigration lines formed and through the semi-darkness we could see the luggage belts beyond the immigration desks. With a little bit of trepidation it came to our turn with the officers. We found that they had little interest in questioning us and a keen interest in us just paying the US$65 cash entry visa fee. Laboriously, they hand filled out the receipt with an antiquated carbon copy and gave us our copy (no computers here, to slow things down). By the time we had finished with Immigration, not only had all the other passengers gone through, but they had also all collected their luggage and left. This left just Bud, Mandy, Dad and I to pick up our lonely bags revolving in the dim “twilight” of the hall. Aided by two eager porters, we miraculously found all eight pieces of luggage... an uncommon occurrence we are told. One last obstacle, the customs agents to interrogate us and to rummage through our many gifts and extra clothes brought for the needy, but the two porters whisked us off through the green “nothing to declare” route and the weary agents paid no attention as they were probably eager to be done with these last stragglers. With a warm greeting from Kirsten and Naomi, nurses at Karanda, we headed out the doors.

AFRICAN AIR

We could smell that we truly were in Zimbabwe, although we could hardly see in the pitch black parking lot, US$1 gained us exit at the booth, rather than the Z$10 Billion posted on the sign. Welcome to the reality of Zimbabwe. Even the government run airport prefers US cash to its own worthless billions. Our trip to the TEAM office was largely in the dark and we avoided the downtown core, as Kirsten said she didn’t feel “comfortable” down there at this hour of the night (10pm). As we neared Marlborough, we all commented that we were not seeing as many pot holes, garbage piles and destitute people as we had imagined. It’s not as if all the traffic lights or street lights worked, but the general decay was not as universal as we were reading. The next days proved that, without a question there was massive decay, but it was not absolutely everywhere. We arrived at the walled property of the TEAM office that I had help purchase and renovate 19 years earlier. Not a lot had changed and it was truly like stepping back in time. After unloading, we were able to briefly logon to the internet to let family know we arrived safely and then off to bed for the first time in about 54 hours. It felt good ... and familiar.

WAKING IN AFRICA

HARARE

Sunday morning, January 4th, after an excellent, restful sleep, Marshal came to greet us and to welcome us back after 19 years away. He looked much the same but with less hair. We went back to his house to greet the rest of his family and to hear how Shem, his oldest son, had miraculously escaped a brush with death as a result of an obstructed bowel and then complications. He is recovering well, but has a tough road still ahead. It was just enjoyable to wander around the property and just dream back in time. Few things had changed, but the 19 years of growth sure showed in the massive trees and mature vegetation. We had a chance to quickly logon to the internet and communicate with family and friends a little more thoroughly, on the semi-hi-speed internet connection.

HEADING TO SOUTH AFRICA FOR CONFERENCE

We only spent the one night in Harare and then needed to be on the road. TEAM Zimbabwe regularly holds its annual conference in Tshipise, near Messina, South Africa, for a combination of dependable electricity, food and the opportunity to buy staple needs to take back, in these difficult times, to Zimbabwe. Because it is a significant drive and slow border process, we decided to drive to the Lion and Elephant Hotel, by the Bubi River, only an hour or so from the border for an early start the next morning. We got to the hotel just before dusk so that we could enjoy a relaxed sunset walk and a leisurely supper in a very quaint old world setting. It has been relatively well looked after and served very nice food for supper and breakfast, before we left the next morning. Monday morning’s one hour drive to the border was the calm before the storm. Yet as we drove those two days, we could see the Zimbabwean “situation” reflected by what we saw along the road. People were selling almost anything that they thought others would buy ... the usual tomatoes and veggies, but also mushrooms, plastic bottles for drinking water (in a cholera crisis),petrol, firewood and even Mopane worms. It was apparent, more than ever before, that people were milling around the shoulder of the road almost continuously along the way. Maybe waiting for a ride or giving up hope for a ride and choosing to just walk. There were also more “scotch carts” or “ox carts” (mostly pulled by donkeys, though) than I remember even seeing years ago. Finally, there were wrecked cars and carcasses of abandoned cars every few miles. It seemed like after an accident, the owner would walk away (or be carried away) and no one ever returned to salvage the wreck, regardless of its state. The longer it had sat there, the more picked over or stripped it looked, till finally some were just rusty skeletons that didn’t even have sheet metal.

As we arrived in Beit Bridge what had been a few “road” milling people became a swarm and the scene became quite chaotic. The border process became an “everyman for themselves” situation with people trying all manner of tricks to jump ahead in the long, hot line-ups of the throngs of Zimbabweans trying to get to South Africa. They are going, hopefully to find the things that they desperately need back home, or that bring top dollar when sold. Or perhaps they are going to see friends and relatives in the Diaspora of exiled Zimbabweans. But beside those multitudes in the line-ups, there were people milling ALL OVER and we wondered, “where are they going” and “what are they doing here”, because they seem to have no purpose or apparent reason to not be on their way. It seemed like a “frontier town” with all the apparent activity and chaos, but such little progress. After several hours we were on our way on the smooth, tidy roads of South Africa. But to our surprise we were thrown back into a similar chaotic scene on arrival in Messina. It was once a sleepy little “Dorp” (Afrikaans for town), in the past, but now it is a hectic boomtown, driven by the Zimbabwean situation and its easy location to quickly return with new, valuable goods. We made a quick stop to buy some very nice cold drinks, not available north of the border, drop off the ladies, who wanted to shop, and then completed a short 30 minute drive to Tshipise.

TEAM CONFERENCE AT TSHIPISE and TRIP HOME

TEAM CONFERENCE AT TSHIPISE, SOUTH AFRICA
We were amongst the first TEAMers to arrive and were very impressed with the condition that they have maintained the resort in. Tshipise is a hot spring feed resort that is primarily a campground and rondoval chalets resort. But they also have a small conference facility that works very well for a small group like ours. Dad and I were assigned a rondoval with two rooms that we shared with Ross McCordic, the Regional Director for TEAM in Wheaton, also out to talk with the Zimbabwe TEAMers. What fun it was to be reunited with so many friends we haven’t seen for many years and to meet those that have joined the ministry area since we left in 1990. It felt like we had never been away, yet it felt so strange to be in that setting. It really was a surreal feeling and Dad kept saying, “I have to pinch myself that I am in Africa”. We ate our delicious meals in the regular restaurant that served a small buffet each meal and were able to enjoy many of the African delicacies that we have missed or rarely had. Each main meal had sudza as well as a regular starch, so it was easy to get your fill. It was great relaxing and to be in the hot spring pools even if they weren’t maintained at the hygiene standards we have in North America, but it wouldn’t be any worse than in a lake or river, and we were all seasoned “Africans”.

After breakfast each morning, one of our visiting team would share the devotional. We then had business meetings until lunch and again in the afternoon on most days. Some days we would play volleyball, swim and play tennis. The Tshipise grounds are large and as we would walk around, we would regularly run into the troop of vervet monkeys or the large group of mongooses (or is it ... mongeese ... mongui ... ok, we saw a mongoose and many more of them). The African sounds were in abundance from the doves, to the guinea fowl, to the baboon’s barks echoing off the kopje beside the resort. Thursday evening was the family fun “skit night” that has been a tradition for TEAMmates since anyone can remember. There were cute skits from the few kids and young people, then one from the Karanda nurses, and an “oldly wed” game featuring Doug and Nancy Everswick, Bud and Mandy Jackson and Dan and Julie Stephens. It was an evening full of laughs and stories, reminiscent of the the conferences as a kid.

Friday was an opportunity for Bud, Mandy and I to present some of the research and information we had gathered on available resources, partnerships and Networks relating to further HIV/AIDS ministries. The Zimbabwe Ministry Area had been discussing that week the options and opportunities that were presenting themselves for involvement in Orphan ministry. We were excited to see how some of the ideas and options could fit with their potential ministry initiatives and with the emerging relationship with the national Evangelical Church that has been reconciled with TEAM.

TRIP HOME TO HARARE
Saturday morning, January 10th, started early as we wanted to get through the border in good time to get back to Harare before dark. Little did we realize how long that day would be (Our plan was to leave by 7am and we pulled out around 8am). We were at the South Africa/Zimbabwe border a little before 10am and although the lines weren’t really all that long. So we began the slow process of exiting South Africa, especially the tax refund process for the many basic goods the missionaries were trying to bring back to Zimbabwe for survival and comfort. The amusing thing on the South African border side was the sign in the washrooms that exhorted the user to not use “cardboard, cloth, Zim dollars or newspaper” in the toilet. Obvious reference to the worthless billion dollar notes being used as toilet paper.

A humorous item when we got to the Zimbabwe side was being told to go and collect a “Custom’s form” from a window and only to find it was a torn ¼ sheet of 8 1/2”x11” bond ... but it was blank. After enquiring what we were to do with it, they told us to “fill it out” (... fill out the blank form?) by writing our particulars on it. So we dutifully wrote our name, passport number and what we were bringing in. It was immediately stamped and made official.

We were able to be on our way shortly after noon, for the 6+ hour drive to Harare. Near Chivu we encountered one of the countless police road blocks. As it was getting dusk, they noticed that the trailer that we were pulling had no lights. The police told Doug Everswick that we would need to fix them before we proceeded and held his drivers licence to ensure we did. We found the local police yards and pulled in to begin solving the problem. As we pulled to a stop, Bud Jackson smoothly charmed the off duty policemen hanging around the depot and Ross McCordic was eager to utilize his “handiman” skills, acquired while growing up in Tchad. With the help of some of the now extremely friendly police, we were able to rewire the connection well enough to proceed in the dark, after about an hour's work. It is interesting how appropriately used Shona and the ever present “Karanda Hospital” signs on the van smooths the way, all over Zimbabwe. These are our early experiences of how the long built reputation of the ministry at Karanda has impacted people at every level and location in the country. Regularly in days to come we would hear people (including police at the road blocks), exclaim “KARANDA” and then proceed to tell us how they or their family had benefited from being there.

Unfortunately driving in the dark on Zimbabwean roads is one of the most dangerous undertakings one can make. Potholes, stray animals, pedestrians along the road and careening longhaul trucks are just some of the enemies of night driving. All was going fine and we were gracefully dodging the caverous potholes until we were encountered a large truck at the same time that a large pothole was on the left edge of the road and we had nowhere to go but through it. With a terrific thud and the instantaneous sounds of air coming out of a tire, Doug began to wrestle the car to a stop. Two blown tires, the left rear tire on the van and the left tire on the trailer were both flat and the rims bent. The Lord had protected us though because the result may have been much different if the van front tire and back had both been blown. It could very easily have gone out of control and the many wrecked vehicle carcasses along the roads speak to how often this has probably happened. A time of prayer before changing these tires, perched on the side of the road while vehicles whiz by, was our full acknowledgement that only God was going to provide safety at this point. The resourceful missionary kicked in for all of us and we got stuck in solving our dilema. Another hour lost to mechanical problems, but the Lord protected us the rest of the way home and the rest of the week on the trecherous Zimbabwe roads and after 14 hours, that eventful day was over. But we had a a lot ahead of us on Sunday and we needed to get some rest.

EVANGELICAL CHURCH’S (E.C.) & TEAM - BIG CELEBRATION and HARARE

E.C. & TEAM - BIG CELEBRATION

This was a day 19 years in the making and it didn’t disappoint one bit. I believe that this would have been the highlight of Dad’s trip and I am not sure, personally, if it wasn’t mine too. It not only closed a chapter in the reconciliation of TEAM and the E.C., but it re-established our personal relationships with many good old friends. The event was held at the new Evangelical Church of Zimbabwe Ministry Centre, in Waterfalls, where folks were coming from all over the country and every district of the E.C. Church’s divisions. A massive “events tent” was set up and music was already starting as we drove in to the property. Such a warm welcome was encountered as formal Shona greetings were ignored for much more personal hugs. 19 years had added a few grey hair and some pounds, here and there, but it was such a blessing to be encountering so many we had not had contact with. Outside the tent we were greeted by Bishop Nyamhondoro, Isaac Soda, Maneto Gweshe, Isaiah Chisweti and many others. As we entered the tent the Cranborne fellowship music team had the early crowd already warmed up and it just continued to build. We were ushered to the front, where there was a “head table” for the various leaders and where Dad and Bishop Nyamhondoro sat together. The many greetings, prayers, songs and introductions continued for quite some time. The music was a true highlight, as they really had the tent rocking and, by then, the overflow crowd dancing as only can be appreciated in Africa. We could see that the 800 rented chairs were all full and many more sitting and standing out the sides and back of the open tent ... between 1000-1200, by some accounts.

Throughout the entire event they had all the speeches translated to either English or Shona, depending on the speaker’s preference. Dad was asked to bring a word of encouragement and greetings and was visibly a moving and emotional moment for him. For those that new the history of Mom and Dad’s final years in Zimbabwe and the difficulties with the church, this was an unexpected blessing to be able to have full restoration of fellowship and to have them treat Dad with such love and humility. It was beyond what he could have imagined and could have hoped for. Lynn Everswick was asked to bring the message and did a wonderful job encouraging and challenging the faithful who have endured so much through the years of collapsing economy and infrastructure in Zimbabwe. The culmination of the 4 hour service was a teary eyed rendition of “God be with you till we meet again”. The Church leaders stood together at the front, while the entire congregation linked hands throughout the tent and they asked Dad to join the leaders to complete this symbol of reconciliation and unity. It proved even harder to contain one’s emotions; as such a poignant moment gave closure to the past and an unbelievable day. I was doing my best to maintain composure until I looked out to the front row, where Judy Everswick was balling her eyes out. It was such a blessing from the Lord to be a part of the Holy Spirits demonstration of healing and reconciliation ... if only Mom (Dorothy Strom) had been able to still be here to witness this.

At the conclusion of the service, we were able to greet so many folks who had traveled significant distance in such hard economic times. It was astounding how many had come to this event. Then the TEAM folks were invited to have lunch with the extended leadership and committees that were at the service (they weren't able to feed the whole crowd). To further demonstrate their servant hearts, they asked us all to sit at the large table, while most of them took seats around the perimeter, a gesture that did not go unnoticed and, in this setting, was a huge act of humility. What a humbling experience to be fed so extravagantly by the folk who are experiencing such shortages in Zimbabwe that even basic maize and flour are running out. The abundant Sadza and chicken were so tasty and it blessed our hearts to share together.

BRIEF DOWNTIME
A bit of “downtime” on Monday allowed us to get a bit of laundry done and catch up on email. It also enabled us to make final arrangements for our trips to Kapfunde and Karanda, as well as contact a few friends that we still wanted to see. However, we quickly learned how challenging it was to make a phone call or get on the internet, to communicate with anyone. The best option, although still “hit and miss”, is using a cell phone. For those who have been away for a while, it is amusing to see the widespread use of cell phones, yet the dysfunction in most other areas. Tuesday brought numerous visits from old friends who heard we were around. First was Bishop Mark Sukulao, who is the Methodist (UK) Bishop in Harare. Mark had gone to EBC in Chinhoyi and was an EC pastor that I had a close friendship with and have stayed in regular contact with through the years. Mark has endured great stress through the recent politically charged years as he has been a strong voice against the suffering and oppression that Zimbabwe and the people are living through. At the height of the violence he was being threatened and wouldn’t sleep in the same place each night. We also had a visit from Margaret Bumhira, who actually just lives up the road in Marlborough, with one of her sons. Three of her boys are in the Chicago area and she does make trips from time to time, to see them. It was such a blessing to be able to see so many, both because of the Sunday Celebration service as well as a result of our travels, and it all made the experience so complete for Dad.

HTC and HATFIELD
That afternoon we made a brief stop in at the Harare Theological College (HTC), as we had not seen the new facility. The new term was starting that evening so there was plenty of activity and commotion. The facility definitely is tailored to the focus of an urban and commuter student, and the 70 students have come from every walk of life and occupation, making great sacrifices to be in these classes and to travel to the college each day. Some are taking courses for Ministry enhancement in their lay roles at a church, and others as their preparation for a degree and full time Ministry. When we were done looking around HTC, a boyhood friend of mine, Rob Franklin, still living and working in the country asked if Dad and I wanted to make a trip over to Hatfield to see the old “Plot” and look around our old neighbourhood. We jumped at the chance as we didn’t know if we would have another opportunity. Many changes have happened in Hatfield and most of them aren’t for the positive. It has been one of the areas that have suffered from infrastructure neglect the most, with power and water outages more than most places. The streets in Hatfield were some of the worst potholed ones we saw in Harare. It appeared as though some homes had tried to fill the holes in front of their areas with plain dirt, but that day’s rain was already making a mess of that small attempt. We were favourably impressed with the condition and upkeep of the old “plot” (that had been the first location of the Harare Theological College, after it left Chinhoyi, in the 1990’s & early 2000’s), that was sold to the Pentecostal Assemblies of God (Canada) as their college facility. Some of the buildings had been changed, at some point (could have been done during the HTC era) but most of them seemed unchanged since the ‘80’s ... Dad could have almost walked into his old office without missing a beat. Even some of the original office signage was still the same as 30 years ago. We did notice that the “old cottage” had a completely new roof. Not just the roofing, but the entire structure, so it had a bit different feel than what was always some of the warmest memories as a child.

KAPFUNDE MISSION STATION

KAPFUNDE

We knew we needed to get an early start to our trip to Kapfunde, as we were going to make the full round trip in one day. There just wasn’t any facility to accommodate all of us who were making the trip ... we are quite the entourage. We got everyone in just two vehicles (Dad, Bud, Francis Mpindu and I, Doug Everswick, Lynn and Judy Everswick, plus two from their North Carolina church, Rebecca and Wes). Then there were a number from the E.C. leadership that had grown up in the Kapfunde area and who still have family in the area. Bishop Nyamhondoro, Pastor Clever Dyck (Pastor at the Mbare EC who is the son of our cook while I was a kid, at Kapfunde), Garlington Mawire (who is high up in the Reserve Bank of Zimbabwe) and his brother Dr. C.J. Mawire (The Medical Director at the new Chinhoyi hospital), along with Mr. Mbrego (who taught at the Bible College when it was still at Kapfunde) and some others, plus 25 food packs for those in desperate need.

Kapfunde had a special place for so many of us going back to the 1950’s when Mom and Dad moved there to start building the Evangelical Bible School. Dad was involved with almost every building that was on that mission station, in some form or another. I was born while Mom and Dad were there and it is the place that I have my earliest memories. A deeply sentimental connection is also from the death and burial of my sister, Valerie, near our original house. We knew that a lot had transpired in the many years of absence and the possibility of finding the grave marker would be pretty small. For Lynn and Judy, Kapfunde is the first station posting after language school and where they began raising their oldest kids. Kapfunde was also the location that the E.C. had planned to open an agricultural and trade school, but with the problems with TEAM & the EC, in the '80's and '90's, they abandoned the idea even though they had a great desire to help the people there.

As we approached the Station we could see that this region had gone through difficult times and that there had been a steady decay of all the buildings and infrastructure. It was immediately evident that the houses that were once the mission homes were hardly even inhabited. The first house we approached was the house that was Lorraine Waite’s and though it was still standing, it was hard to tell if it was still being used, as there wasn’t much upkeep around it. The house that had been the Hendrickson’s & Everswick’s home was not even standing, other than the original fireplace, with grass sprouting up all over the slab. We drove a little further up the hill where we could see that the latest house that had been built was still standing, (it was one that we lived in during the ‘70’s), but it was in extreme disrepair and was actually being used by the church to meet in. Windows were broken, inside it was blackened by soot from fires, there was junk piled up in rooms and all of the fixtures were either removed or broken. If these walls could talk, there would be some stories to tell, I am sure. As we opened doors to other rooms, we were astonished to find the large original school/church bell amongst the rubble. This beat-up, damaged and repaired bell sat in a room of junk, waiting to be rung. A couple of strong young men lifted it and a haunting sound rang out that brought memories flooding back as it was calling the kids to school or signalling that church would start in an hour or two. What a symbol of the life of this station. It needed a purpose to ring again.

We were now interested to see if we could locate the area where Mom and Dad had made Valerie’s grave, around 53 years ago. We quickly realized this would be a significant challenge as the bush had not only over taken that general area, but it had completely over taken even where the concrete slab of our original house was. In the ‘80’s there was still evidence of where the house stood by the large slab of the demolished house (the bricks probably removed to build someone’s own home). But now it was grass, thorn bushes and growing trees. With help from some of the local folks, we found evidences of our old original outdoor toilet. What kind of evidence? Well it appears that Dad had made the “bench sitting area” and the floor of the outhouse from concrete ... substantial concrete and the bush could not envelope that. Some amusingly speculated it may still be usable. Then we found the old house slab, but no sign of the small anthill that was near the house and used as the grave site. There was speculation that the anthill had been the source of good clay to make bricks and all signs of it was now gone. The best we could do was approximate the location and imagine that this could have been close to the site. Remembrance of a daughter and sister, now with the Lord and with Mom.

That looked after, we moved on up the hill towards the school and clinic. Further evidence of decay is visible on all the buildings and the grounds. The school built in the ‘60’s as an elementary school is now also a high school, but hardly looks like it would service as much of one. There is considerable commotion around the clinic, which in the early days was the Bible school chapel and clinic. We were able to meet the nurse who is struggling to run the clinic and it was painful to hear all the problems and lack of supplies or assistance. She rattled off a whole list of basic supplies that are non-existent for them, and have been for some time. The facility had no power, and it appeared no water. As we walked around the back of the building a handwritten sign shocked us to reality ... “Cholera Ward”. Two people had died the week before and they had discharged a couple who had survived, the day before. We later heard that this area was seeing a rise in cholera cases and was one of the worst hit rural areas.

When we returned to the vehicles, we could see it was nearing time for us to leave so that we could return to Harare before dark, as we had already had enough experiences driving on these roads in the dark. As we were getting into the van, the Bishop and EC folks asked if we would just come in and pray with the folks. So we gladly returned into the living area of our old house ... now the church ... and watched the many local folks filing in. As would always happen, spontaneous singing started. Although this was not as polished and amplifier enhanced, like the E.C. Celebration service earlier in the week, it was as harmonious and as entrancing as it had been in our youth. It must have echoed across the bush, calling more people to come, because they just kept filling that room with more people. By now, upwards of 70 people. A few of the E.C. leaders said some things and some more singing. Then Lynn Everswick was asked to say something (i.e. preach!!). Lynn borrowed a bible AND some glasses from his brother Doug, so he could read, and had such an appropriate message in light of the great suffering. After Lynn, some more people said some things and some more singing. The Bishop asked if people wanted to say anything and there were earnest pleas for the mission and church to come back and help, as before. They were begging for assistance in that needy place. Not only were they hungry and sick, but the local church had walls, but no roof and it was sitting unfinished... could we help? Pray for the Kapfunde people and church.

About 2 ¼ hours later we were filing out, our hearts touched by the people who are suffering so much and yet knowing we were needing to get on the road. The church leaders now needed to distribute the 25 food packs that we had brought with us and it had been explained in the service that these were first for the widows and orphans and then the neediest. Some of us knew that in the African setting, this process could be a while and so to not be a distraction in the process, we decided to quickly go visit the village of Redfen Hwamaridza, the long-time maintenance man on the Station. We heard that he was not real well. Redfen seemed to have a variety of issues that he was suffering from, including cataracts, but he was very happy to see us all and that we had taken the time to come see him. His wife has had a stroke and was somewhat disabled on the one side. They too shared with us what the ravages of the economy and scarcity of seed and fertilizer had done to the area.

When we returned to the Station, expecting to get on the road back to Harare, again ... somewhat late ... we were then told that a meal had been prepared for us by the women of the church. We could not turn down this gracious, sacrificial invitation and so we all went back into “our old house” and were served a marvellous sadza meal ... Again, people honouring us, even with their shortages. We were only able to leave Kapfunde around 4 pm and prayed our way back to Harare, once darkness fell. God was good and we arrived at the TEAM cottage about 8pm, to a city with no electricity and late to a supper that Joyce and Chris Goppert had to keep warm for a few hours. The Lord was gracious and had the power come on just as we were arriving at Gopperts for supper at 8:30pm.

CHIRONGA & KARANDA HOSPITAL

THE TRIP

The next day, Thursday January 15th, was going to be another long day as we piled back into the van and headed for Karanda. This trip we were only going to be about 8 people (Lynn & Judy, along with Rebecca, Bud Jackson, Francis Mpindu, Anna Mortensen, a new nurse in Zimbabwe and Dad and I), so fit comfortably into the one Hiace van. The abundant rains though meant that we would have to take the long way around to Karanda via the high bridge over the Ruya River, therefore a little extra time travelling. On our way, we were observing the changes that had taken place through the years in Mazoe and the Mining areas around Bindura. Although there were a few citrus areas, the vast majority of them had been replaced with fields of Maize, tobacco and or other staple crops. Many of the mines in those areas were no longer even in service. As we went through Bindura we had to drive by the old TEAM Bindura house that Lynn and Judy had lived in as well as Jacksons and others, but we almost didn’t make it there, trying to navigate through the extensive potholed streets.

With every town we entered or left, we encountered the ever present police roadblocks, but as before, there was seldom a delay with our ever present “Karanda Hospital” sign smoothing the way. It was amusing to watch the policeman’s eyes as they first raised their hand to have us stop and then see them glance down at the side door, see the sign and promptly wave us on . . . sometimes some of their comrades, on the side, even giving out a cheerful holler “Karanda”. Arriving at the high Ruya bridge we could see that we had made the right decision and watched as the chocolate, rain fuelled river roared below... what memories that brought back for all of us. Then next ½ hour was story after story connected to that river and others and how they affected our lives and ministries.

CHIRONGA STATION

Not much later we were passing Mt. Chironga and climbing the hill up to the turn off to Karanda or Chironga. We had decided earlier that we were going to drive in to the Chironga Station to look around and see if we could find the grave sites from the past. The Ratzlaffs had buried a baby boy there, and Dick Dunkeld was also buried there after he passed away in the ‘70’s, while serving as a missionary. The roads and access were significantly changed on the station and it initially proved difficult to identify which were the original houses and what had been added since we left. We could recognize most of the school buildings from the past and then a brief walk past a Baobab tree and some of the sharper minds quickly solved the mystery. We did, however, ask one of the young boys around if he knew where the graves were. Of course he did and promptly led us on a walk directly to them. There were a few bushes growing near, but the area was surprisingly accessible, with still a wonderful view of the valley and Chironga mountain beyond. As we prepared to leave a couple of men with their plough and oxen team came by. They wondered if we knew or remembered the Driedgers and the one man said he was young Wayne Driedger’s age. This was a brief stop, but it enabled us to reminisce about the numerous ones who had died through the early years or had lost children, while serving the Lord in Zimbabwe.

KARANDA HOSPITAL

Karanda is more significantly built up than most of us remembered and the entrance was now strategically situated next to a police building on the Station. For some of us the expansion included the large new guest facility, which is ideal for hosting the large short-term teams that frequently come to help. The expanded Nursing school and more facilities at the hospital, as well as more staff housing and the new school. The once open middle area of the station is now utilized fully. As we arrived at the guest house and unloaded we realized that we had a brief enough window to run up the “airstrip” (it is now overgrown or planted with fields) to Mufundisi Chisaya’s village to see his daughter, Esnati, Lynn Everswick’s nanny, when he was a child. What a beautiful sunset it was as we walked and looked out over Mt. Darwin and the huge expanse between Karanda and there. As we entered the village Esnati had the most phenomenal reaction to seeing Lynn and Dad. She tried to do the traditional greeting for a moment, but then just succumbed and began hugging them both . . . and hollering as only an African lady can. She was so excited and was begging us to stay for supper, but we already had a prior commitment with the missionary staff.

We returned back down to the guest house before it was completely dark and in time to enjoy a dinner with Dan & Julie Stephens and the all the nurses, plus Esther McCloy Oliver, who was out helping Julie get the new term started at the school for all the staff children. This school was far larger than we had expected and it has the challenge that they need teachers to help relieve Julie of all the responsibility. We were treated to another sadza meal, before we gathered with the hospital and missionary staff for prayer meeting. With the 8 of us visitors joining and all the staff, it was a wonderful time of prayer together; bringing specific local requests and broad reaching and far off needs also. This time together gave us the opportunity to meet some of the newer staff and the National Zimbabwean doctor as well as reconnect with old friends like Dorothy Chirindu (now the hospital matron) and Friday Chimukangara. That night our only complaint was that there was no water for a bath or shower as they couldn’t pump water. The power had been off for most of the week and they had used up the entire diesel reserves for the generator powering the hospitals needs. When I usually sit in Canada and imagine I can easily go a day without a shower, my mind has usually forgotten how my body acts in HOT, HUMID weather, after a long day in a stuffy van. I usually forget that OTHERS would like me to shower even more than I would. Well, we did survive that hygiene challenge, but were glad when we eventually did shower, back in Harare.

Friday morning started early as we had been invited to go with the nursing students and staff to sing in the wards at 7am, in lieu of the regular morning devotions. The sound of singing coming from all wards, through open windows and doors, soon permeates the hospital grounds. After the singing, we visitors spent some time looking around and Lynn and Judy’s group passed out some food snacks and prayed with patients. We were surprised the hospital was not full at all considering that the countries entire medical system had collapsed and the government hospitals in Harare and elsewhere were all closed (Some of the factors that caused the closing of the government hospitals were the lack of supplies and medications, but also because the doctors, nurses and staff wanted to be paid more and in foreign currency). This has put a huge burden on the Mission Hospitals because the regular city people and rural people couldn’t afford the exorbitant fees at the still functioning private hospitals. Before Christmas , Karanda was swamped and strained to keep up. When we inquired as to why Karanda was not full, we were given too speculative reasons. One was that it was usual that right after New Year, things were slower, but the second main reason they felt was that the buses and transport providers were now demanding their fares in foreign currency. How could a poor rural person afford to pay in a currency that they have no access to, never mind that the fee would be equivalent to a couple months’ income?

CHAPLAINS, HIV/AIDS, GOATS & ORPHAN VILLAGES

CHAPLAINS, HIV/AIDS AND GOATS

As we continued our tour, we arrived at the chaplain’s office and were introduced to the multiple staff that are responsible for the spiritual counselling and the HIV/AIDS awareness as well as the “homecare” visitation in the villages around Karanda. We heard about the challenges and the victories and opportunities still available. It is a massive challenge that provides a significant opportunity for the Church and for the Mission. Some of these would be seen as we visited the orphan led villages. Before we were to head out to the villages we were shown the “Goat Project” by James, the wonderful man who heads this project and has a key role in the homecare visitation. The Goat Project was started to provide high value milk for baby’s whose mothers are unable to produce their own due to HIV or other illness. The project breeds goats that can then be sent home and provide healthy sustenance for the baby. Karanda has a breeding herd to keep the project self sustaining. There are two challenges in the program, the one is training the mothers and family in the care and importance of this milk. The other is the problem that the Shona people have as a cultural to the issue of milking a goat. It is a demeaning task to be seen milking a goat, but it provides such excellent nutrition . . . a real dilemma for this simple project and important solution.

ORPHAN LED VILLAGES & THE PREDICAMENT

Of all the tragedies and misfortunes that have inundated Zimbabwe, the plight of the young who have suffered because of the HIV/AIDS crisis and poverty is the most heartbreaking. We have read the statistics for many years now, and have seen the stories and appeals even on TV, but it can’t prepare you for the scale and difficulty it is in real life. The predicament has affected rural culture significantly for a few reasons, including the prevalence of bigotry, and its acceptability in the culture, and the lack of understanding or denial of the reality of the nature of how HIV spreads. The typical cycle starts when the father/husband gets sick and dies of TB or other predatory diseases, as a result of AIDS. The wife or wives may be pregnant and gives birth to a child that the hospital knows is HIV positive, but the wife refuses a test and denies its presence... she does not want the stigma connect to HIV/AIDS that will damage her standing in the community. This is where the counsellors from the chaplains group will often spend a year in awareness counselling and training before there is acknowledgement. Therefore Karanda’s involvement with the problem is significant, yet it is only a small contribution in the scale of the need. Through the “Homecare” program, they are assisting and connected to about 200 orphans, yet this is not in an orphanage. Because these kids are part of a larger family unit and a community network they have tried to maintain the connection within the community culture, and all of these orphans are not just infants that need everything done for them. The predicament is varied and broad. In some instances an infant orphan can be looked after by a relative ... in their community. In some instances the orphans are part of a large family and older siblings can assist looking after the younger siblings.

Shortly after seeing the goat project we joined James and Dorothy Chirindu (also head of the Homecare program) and headed out to visit some of the villages in a misty rain. The damp weather set a sombre mood for what we were going to experience. At the first village, James explained to us the setting for many of these orphan led villages. These villages technically are defined as “orphan led” if the parents are both deceased, or if the father is deceased and the mother has HIV/AIDS and the kids are needing to “run” the village. Some of these villages still had a mother in them, although she was sick, on Anti Retro Viral drugs (ARV’S) or dying. The first village was a case where there had been multiple wives and the father, who has died, infected the wives and subsequently some of the kids were born HIV positive. A 15 year old girl was the oldest and although she was HIV+ (and on ARV’s), she was helping look after family members. In the “kitchen hut”, James recounted their story and the process it takes to convince the wife to be tested and to seek treatment before it is too late. We left them a food pack and moved on to another village. At each successive village James would tell us their story and add other information and stories that demonstrate the challenges, the stigmas and the scale of the problems. He also told us how the Homecare program was also teaching “Farming God’s Way” as a tool towards better self-sufficiency and more effective farming, especially when so many family members were weak or debilitated. Again we left a food pack. We went on to our last village that we would visit, and the saddest situation we saw that day. This village was truly just the orphans and was somewhat more bedraggled than the others. There was an older (20’ish) brother around, however he was “mentally challenged” and therefore not functioning as an adult. James explained the challenge for the 16 year old girl and how many siblings she was looking after and that some of them were in the field then and therefore not in the village. What broke our hearts next was to find out that they had not eaten in two days. When James asked them what they were going to do, they said that they had planned to go and ask neighbouring villages if they had anything to spare ... even though they knew other villages were in very difficult situations with food also. Again, after a time of prayer for them, we left TWO food packs to help them survive.

These three villages were just samplings of the predicament and there were numerous discussions in the van about how we, as TEAM, could increase our role in assisting and even exhorting the church to add volunteers to the monitoring and distribution network already in place. This last day was another significant educational moment towards the purpose of why we were even making this trip. Although this is not the only component of a multi-facetted ministry in the area of HIV/AIDS, it is a very visible and tangible one that cannot be ignored. We recognize that Education, prevention, orphan care and hospice all must be in balance and contribute to beating this scourge on the people... many of them innocent children.

THEY JUST CAN’T WIN

As we returned to Harare, an anomaly on the road reminded us of a heartbreaking story that Dorothy and James told us. We were seeing numerous pickup trucks, and larger trucks, transporting cattle towards Harare, with makeshift pole corrals. To the uniformed eye, this would only seem to be rural folks trying to get their cattle to market, but we had been told the “rest of the story”. Opportunistic people were transporting bags of grain from their city sources to the rural areas where they trade it for the cattle. The heartbreaking aspect is that they bring inferior grain and flour, that they trade at terribly unfair exchange, with starving people, for their valuable cattle. If you know the rural Shona culture, cattle are a symbol and deposit of one’s wealth and are used in dowries and many aspects of farming. So to trade away their future to stave off hunger today is a sign of desperate people and for the parasitical business man to feel he has done well in his trading is a sad commentary on the plight of Zimbabwe. It was a difficult, but poignant, image to end our trip on and it will be symbolic of the complexity and the sadness of what is a massive challenge for God’s people.