If God is for us...

Our weekly 7am prayer meeting was quiet this morning, in a way. Peggy is not feeling well today, Steve has been kept away with busyness due to important consultants coming to the new hospital, and Dagmar is away for a few days. Thus, we were left with only Becky and us short-termers: Tom, Tim, Jerry, Marcela and myself. This made it great fun, but a little slow-moving!

The meeting closed at 9:30am, and so (in order to be at the hospital, some 15 minutes'drive away, by 10) I dashed upstairs and wolfed down my bread roll and antimalarial prophylactics, took the car keys from Becky with thanks, grabbed my lesson stuff, and jumped into the Land Rover.

The quickest route to the hospital involves turning left out of the end of the track on which you find my dwelling, but as I have agreed to pick up one of my students every morning to give her a lift (as a nurse, she only comes in for the English lessons -- still no patients at the hospital until the kitchen can be built), I turn right to take the longer way around town.

Due to the frequent lack of power, there are no traffic lights in Lubango. Instead, in one or two places, the police perform what I can only describe as an elaborate dance (complete with white gloves) to direct traffic in busier periods. Today, as I reached that point in the crossroads, the podium was empty, but I eventually found a gap in the traffic and made the turn.

Having turned into the road, my foot left the accelerator pedal when I noticed an orange-jacket-clad police sergeant signalling for me to stop and pull into the side of the road. Before you wonder if I was driving like a lunatic, this is a regular occurrence, although my first. It was as I pulled in that I said to myself, "Fiddlesticks!" (or words to that effect) ... in my haste to leave, I had left my licence at home.

Having explained this to the policeman, who was not best pleased (it is a legal requirement to carry one's carta de condução), he asked to see the vehicle's registration documents. After much furtive searching, I found the bits and pieces and handed them over. We to'd and fro'd a little and he asked me to go back home, get my licence and bring it back to him. I praise God that my Portuguese has come on so much in the last couple of weeks.

And so I did. As I trundled back to the roundabout, I was impressed by God's timing, as I somehow ended up behind the only car I have seen in my two months here which has a Bible verse car sticker, especially one directly at eye-level for a Land Rover driver. The sticker spoke to my heart: "Se Deus é por nós, quem será contra nós?" ... "If God is for us, who could be against us?"

By and by, I was back with the sergeant, who was not the jolliest individual I had met all morning. Eventually satisfied with my driving licence, he looked at me authoritatively: "now your passport please." I do not carry my passport whilst driving, in fact one does not need to (so I am advised by the mission), and mine is at the immigration office at present anyhow. Oh dear. Most disappointed that I was again unable to satisfy his demands, the policeman asked me where I was headed. "The new hospital," I said, in my best Portuguese.

Suddenly, everything changed. "Doctor Estévão?" (the name by which everyone in this city knows Steve) Not wishing to confuse the issue with a complicated explanation of how I am teaching English in a hospital, I simply said that I work with Doctor Estévão. The officer was most interested. "Ah, my wife would like a consultation." In that moment, we changed from officer and woefully unco-operative driver to best of buddies. We swapped names, I promised to speak to Steve on his behalf, and I was on my way, thanking God profusely.

I won't mention the fact that the student I was to pick up was absent, and so I needn't have passed the checkpoint anyway.

Despite my late (delayed further by being stuck behind a slow-moving Toyota all the way) arrival at the hospital, my lessons went well. It wasn't until some point later, as I was leaving the hospital, that I realised... my driving licence had been given back, but not the vehicle's documents. The police at the checkpoint had changed, and my sergeant was nowhere to be seen.

Tail between legs, I went back to Becky and explained the situation. As the car is virtually undrivable without its documents, we walked along to the checkpoint and talked to the policeman there. They are very polite, and always salute you at the start of any encounter. Some 15 minutes, a lot of conversing and giving of information (I was very pleased to know the sergeant's name!) on my part, and a complicated-looking form later, I was asked to sign. "Attenda uma segunda," (wait a second) said Becky wisely as she noticed a small section virtually buried beneath flowery writing which was for something that can roughly be translated as infringements of the law.

The officer explained to us that the form would be invalid without something written in this section, and so he had written an article/paragraph reference that stated (according to him) the vehicle documents were tatty and thus had to be confiscated. At our protestations, he assured us that we would not have to pay anything, should face no penalties, and it was not our fault. I went ahead and signed, in faith. Becky can present this paper in the interim should she be stopped by the police, in lieu of documents.

Well, that was an experience to add to my growing arsenal. As faithful prayer warriors, I would be grateful if you could join me in thanking God for his faithfulness and provision, and you would pray with us that we will be able to get hold of the vehicle documents again, without any impediment or bribe. Watch this space for more news...

Where has all the time gone?

I had great plans a week ago about what I would prepare for this blog, but somehow another week has just shot past. Hopefully next week ...

I have been having a great time teaching. My beginners class keeps growing and growing, and so for the rest of this week I'm going to put on some catch-up classes for the newcomers. Demand for the post-graduate class on the other hand seems to be a bit patchy, which is just as well as the little free time I have had would otherwise have been filled with preparation!

At the weekend, though, I had the chance to get out to Humpata, where Steve Collins is living, and we went for a hike - up quite a few rocks and behind a waterfall and things. I just fell in love with that area. Much nicer than being in the city.

Then yesterday I visited the school for the blind, which is actually much more a special school ... and not quite like The Avenue in Reading. Conditions seemed dark, dingy and cramped, with walls looking dilapidated - probably not helped, I admit, by the rain. Even the office was just a big metal box in the middle of the dirt courtyard. The secretary tried to persuade me to stay and teach there, and in a way I'd like to ...

The medics are in Kalukembe this week and to be honest it's really nice to have a quiet house with just Tom and I; 6 people in the flat is pretty manic - Tim's sleeping in the stairwell. Brendan and Craig, two Canadians, arrived on Saturday; please pray for them whilst they're here - neither are believers; one of them had never been into a church before. Tom's been happily making apple tart, our electricity is fixed although still intermittent and even the hot water geyser may soon be fixed!

What time I have had has been spent thinking quite a lot about what I am being called to do long term. Am I really cut out to be a missionary, that kind of thing. And if I am, where does SIM fit in, and Hope for Africa? I have a lot to pray about and I would value your prayers too.

Manz thanks for those who have been praying for Beth. I am pleased to say that she is now feeling a lot better.

A YEAR IN Part 6

I run the text of each prayer letter past one of the SIM team in Angola, in this case Peggy. Life is good and exciting, but there's less of the "wow! that's new", and much of the paper prayer letter which some people receive you have seen already in the last couple of blogs. So here's the bits you might have missed by not getting the paper version ... and one or two bits the readers of the paper version haven't seen.

The weather

Last Tuesday was the first significant fall of rain since I have been here, and whilst I can see dark clouds on the horizon as I write, many feel that it is ‘too little, too late’. Food is becoming more of a problem, especially in the area around the hospital, and further out in the bush. If people are going hungry already, what will the next months hold?

You will recall the group of young gentlemen (about my age) I wrote about who, buoyed up by Dutch courage (the local beer is called N’gola for the international alcohol connoisseurs amongst you) showed some interest in the Bible in my hand, mostly to laugh at it. Meeting them in the street on subsequent occasions, they have asked more about my Bible and the local church, and indeed today I was able to invite them along on Sunday, as we chatted in (still somewhat stilted) Portuguese. There have also been opportunities to help them in more practical ways. This afternoon, they told me how hungry they were feeling ... a few bread rolls later, and that was one less problem to worry about. Please pray for these guys.

As in all of the earth, there are many needs here in Angola. I am grateful to God that he has enabled me to make some small difference here; perhaps for some of the individuals that He is able to touch through me, it will be a big difference. It is my prayer that you will continue to be used by God to make a difference to the needs in and around Reading, Framsden, Manchester, or wherever you may be.

Money Matters

Living is expensive in Angola – prices are hiked to cover damage done to suppliers’ lorries by the country’s roads – but my Scottish heritage is standing me in good stead as I look after the pennies: almost halfway through March, I am still surviving on February’s money ration. Nevertheless, with money for flights having been taken out of my SIM account, the cupboard is looking a little bare. Please pray with me that God will continue work through his people to provide what I need.

GAP update

All of the other GAPers have now been in their countries of service for over 2 months.

Isaac and Colin have been happily engaged in projects in Senegal to build chicken houses, design drip-irrigation systems and evangelise amongst Muslims. Their scooters seem to become more hazardous by the day. Meanwhile, further east, Connie and Hannah continue to enjoy teaching children in Kenya; pray for them as they reach out to the homeless around Eldoret.

Helen and Zara are involved in various forms of outreach in one of Asia’s “creative access” (closed) countries, whilst Beth and Jenny enjoy a brief holiday in one of Thailand’s islands before returning to Chiang Mai to teach English to students. Pray for healing for Jenny as she recovers from her fall down a hole: she tells me that she now walks like a pirate.

In South America, Avril and Pip are preparing to start teaching at the British school, after a couple of months of children’s camps in Uruguay and Argentina (and in hospital for Avril). Honorary Ecuadorians Tim and John are recovering from Carneval – a two week long water-fight – as they continue to minister to young people in the student café.

Give thanks

• For the ministry opportunities that have opened up here
• That Tom is progressing really well in his teaching skills
• For the chance to use the Land Rover, and the many other blessings that being part of an SIM Angola team brings

My Portuguese feels like it is gradually really coming along: I can hold conversations with folks now and even make people laugh in ways other than sympathetic 'you are really rubbish at our language' chuckles. I even entertain the man at the post office as he puts each letter through the machine many times.

Please pray with me

• That I would continue to learn what it is to be the human being that God has created me to be, rather than a human doing
• That God would work through me to be salt and light to those I meet
• For health and safety: spiritually, emotionally and physically

Monday was my first experience of an Angolan taxi, taking me home from teaching at the hospital (I don't have the car to drive on Mondays). Taxis actually work more like unscheduled buses here, they're pretty crammed. It was interesting coming down the mountain in the rain in a RHD taxi with only one working wiper and a creative style of driving. I'll see how the next couple of weeks pan out in that regard and may consider another solution!

Tomorrow? Morning?

You may have wondered at my last blog - it might have led you to believe that I had time on my hands for a few days. How come? Hasn't there been an Intermediate language class since the 21st February? And a Beginners class shortly thereafter?

One of my fellow GAP-ers made the discovery recently that Spanish has the same words for "tomorrow" and "morning". Thankfully it's a million times simpler in Portuguese. The Portuguese for tomorrow is "amanha", whereas the morning is "a manha". Phew, that's a relief.

If you're quick enough, you'll have worked out where this is going. A couple of blogs ago I explained how my new English class was to be starting that afternoon. This was based on the fact that I'd turned up the previous day and the secretary had explained it would start 'tomorrow'. Or so I thought. It turns out what she was telling me was that it is now being held in the mornings and by-the-way I'm not teaching them any more (come to think of it, it was probably "tomorrow morning: amanha de manha").

So that was a bit of shame. I was quite glad I didn't understand at first; Senhor Avolino (the dean of students) referred to it in English the next day, he is so nice that I couldn't possibly be annoyed!

Over the next day or two, Peggy and I discussed all the options at great length, and two exciting possibilities emerged. The first was that she has been keen for some time to start a "post-graduate" class to further stretch those who have finished the 3-year course at ISTEL. This would be at advanced level. The second came from Steve (her husband) who pointed out that he needs somebody to teach medical staff at the hospital: English will become a pre-requisite for working there, as they'll have an increasing number of English-speaking doctors and medical students when the hospital opens. This would be at beginning/elementary level.

And so Friday morning saw me getting up early as Peggy and I went up to the new hospital. I think I've told you about Cristo Rei, the statue of Christ with his arms outstretched towards the city up on the top of a huge cliff ... well, anyway, the hospital is behind there. I copied my multichoice English assessment and Peggy took me on a little tour of the hospital. There's only really guards and admin staff at the moment.

And so I had the strange sensation of sitting with my prospective students in the intensive care unit. They had raided the ward of bedside tables to use as desks.

Analysis of the results was much as expected, and so I will be starting two levels: Beginners and Intermediate. Dani, the administrator and one of the main music guys in the church, fared much better and so we're bumping him up to the advanced class at ISTEL (Tom's class).

Which reminds me what I did on Thursday pm ... there is a family here that used to be with SIM called the Holdens. One of the things they do now is run an English school downtown, and Jim (the dad) did his thesis on a method called TPR (Total Physical Response). I went down to the school with Esther to get a taste of it in action, and then Peggy remembered that she had a book about running an English ministry using this method. So I shall be using the Beginners as my TPR guinea-pigs.

On our way back from the hospital, Peggy and I dropped into ISTEL, where Avolino confirmed that they would like to start a post-advanced class ... we'd been waiting for an answer for a few days. So that will now start on Wednesday and Thursday evenings.

The church have been rehearsing for an Easter Concert, which is going to be a mammoth affair with big choirs and all that jazz. It turns out that their best drummers are unavailable and their other ones (my pupils) are not up to the job yet. So, Cesar approached me on Saturday and asked me to play for the concert. What a privilege! We have about 4 rehearsals a week, which could be a big problem time-wise, but God's in control. I've been greatly enjoying rehearsals so far, and the guys seem pleased with what I've been doing.

So my timetable is at last filling out. Monday-Friday: 1000-1230 teaching at the hospital; Weds and Thurs: 1800-1900 teaching at ISTEL. Then there's music rehearsals on Monday (1600-2000ish), Tuesday (1700-1930) and Friday (as Monday) evenings, Saturday mornings... plus music lessons, lesson prep time... Brilliant.

And then on Sunday night at the English Bible study, Astrid (from Germany) approached me and asked if I can do a percussion workshop with the ISTEL kids. I find this really exciting: it's ages since I made hand-drums, and shakers out of dried peas and seeds, and all that kind of thing. These kids are the children of missionaries, pastors-in-training and teachers, etc. Very cool.

Last Wednesday was 2 years since I passed my driving test. And I shall soon be putting those few tens of thousands of miles to Angolan use... yes, I've now been for a little practice-drive in Becky's Land Rover [called Tinka], so I can get used to sitting on the wrong side, changing gear with the wrong hand, driving on the wrong side, plus of course maneouvring a slightly larger vehicle. Then, on Tuesdays-Fridays, I shall be driving up the mountain road to the hospital. Thankfully, at present, it's quite a quiet road (about a 15-minute journey I think) in terms of traffic volume. I shall be employing all the defensive driving skills I know, but I'm sure my parents would appreciate it if you would pray for my safety and that of those around me.

I'd also ask you to pray for some young men I met on the way to Peggy's on Friday night. It was almost time for a music rehearsal and I couldn't find my sticks anywhere. I decided I must have left them at Steve and Peggy's, so went over there with my Portuguese Bible in hand so that I could dash to the rehearsal and then on to a Bible study. It turned out the sticks were in our kitchen utensil holder on the windowsill back in our flat, thanks to Jerry. A wasted journey? No, for on my way to Peggy's I was accosted by some young, slightly drunk men (probably about my age), who were wondering where I was going and why I had a Bible in my hand etc. We chatted for a couple of minutes, and then I explained I was really in a hurry and had to go. Since then, I had one of them hail me from the other side of the road, and spoke briefly with him again... they were asking where my Bible was this time! I hope to be able to talk to them about Jesus (I need to work out a few important words in Portuguese first), and ask that you would pray that God would guide things...

Pray too for Avril and Philippa in Uruguay. Give thanks, first, for the great birthday celebrations Philippa had recently, but pray too for them as they start the next phase of their ministry at the English school. Summer camps are over ... and they are looking forward to forming new relationships.

And I can now confirm that letters sent in the UK do reach Angola - in batches, apparently - and vice versa. So if you'd like to write it's:
C.P.33
Lubango
Angola via Portugal
Angola
but by far the quickest way of communicating with me is to use the Comment option on the blog below - so please do so! It would be a great encouragement to me to know someone is reading all this!

An apple a day ...

It may surprise you to discover that, although I have now been here one month, I have not yet had the need to shop at the fruit n' veg market in true African style. We went there on my first Saturday - 4 weeks ago - and my GAP partner, Tom, and housemate, Jerry, did buy a few tomatoes and onions.

We do most of our purchasing in small shops, where the price is fixed. It struck me as odd at the time that they just paid the price asked in the market.

Eating at Peggy and Steve's as we do in the evening, we get plenty of fruit and vegetable intake. And what with Dagmar leaving us a lot of fruit when she headed south to Namibia and South Africa some weeks ago, we have been doing just fine for our fruity vitamins and minerals. But this week saw the end of that, with chef Tom demanding some apples for a pudding he wants to make tonight.

So, when my piano student did not show up this morning, it seemed the perfect opportunity to head to the fruit market. Having brushed up on a few useful phrases yesterday, I took 40 kwanzas (about 25p) with me, determined to get the best value I could.

Walking through the small metal gate into the market, I am often struck by the full variety of vibrant colour. Fruit-laden ladies, some with small children, sit on the floor with large plastic bowls full of various produce, most calling out to try to get my attention - and my money. I find myself having to watch where I step, so as not to trip over any carelessly-placed legs, or worse, carelessly-placed chickens (live, of course).

I hover near the apples and crouch down to hear what the young girl is saying. It sounds like she is offering 200 kwanzas, but I can't tell how many apples that would buy. I explain that I have 40 kwanzas (probably my first mistake). Cocking her head, she holds up 2 apples. I suggest four. "Não, duas." Disappointed, I shake my head, and walk away, in the vain hope that she might try to coax me back with a better offer. She doesn't. I console myself with the thought that I could probably get better value than that in Waitrose.

As I wander back home, I remember seeing some apples and bananas being sold on the way to Peggy's house yesterday. We have been advised not to buy things by the side of the road, but I cannot resist the urge to try my hand again. I sidle up to the vendor, narrowly avoiding collision with a taxi in the process. It is an older woman and her daughter, deep in conversation. I decide to try turning on the charm...
"Bom dia, senhora. Como está?"
"'Stá bem, o meu filho." (It's good, my son.)

I express my immense pleasure that she is feeling well this morning, and ask how much it is for... why didn't I look up the Portuguese for apples? She smiles and tells me it's 50 for a pile (there are 5 in the pile).

"Dá para fazer por quarenta?" (Can you do it for 40?)

She hesitates, and I explain it's all I have, and would it please be possible to have them for 40. Another hesitation, and then:
"Sim, está possível."
"Muito obrigado, senhora."

The deal is done. I count out my 40 kwanzas and hand them over, before bagging up my pile of five apples. A sense of elation is swelling inside me, as I celebrate what I feel to be my moral victory over the high white-man's prices at the fruit market. As I walk home along the sandy dirt track, it occurs to me that, by Angolan standards, 8 kwanzas an apple is probably quite steep. But for now, that can't put a dent in my high spirits. Everybody I pass is wished a very good morning, and I wonder if they can detect the extra spring in my step. This morning, it would seem, everybody wins.

Update: One or two other missionaries have told me that they struggle to get apples for cheaper than 20 kwanzas each, and were thus mighty impressed with my 8 kwanza deal ...

Let me share with you now some thoughts from my journal from last weekend.

It has been frustrating me recently that I am having less interaction with Angolans than I had hoped to. A substantial proportion of my day seems to be spent at home, or in the company of other missionaries ... neither of these is a bad thing per se, but neither is an ideal way to spend all of one's time here.

And what about these guys that I feel God has put on my heart: how am I meant to come alongside them when I only have a superficial grasp of their language, and many have no grasp of my own? Even if I was able to ask meaningful questions, they would lose me with their answers. And why didn't I take that opportunity to join in the football match with the kids in the street outside? All of the other SIM missionaries in Lubango are away this weekend: how can I make the most of this opportunity to hang out with the guys I am meant to be serving?

It struck me as I was writing words similar to these into my journal, that the answer is obvious. I've simply got to continue relying on God through it all. After all, it's our hearts of worship that matter to him the most; the willingness to give him the glory. It's how I'm being, not what I'm doing, that he values.

When he called me here, he knew I would have these problems, and yet still he called me. Therefore, I trust in him to use me as only he knows best: please pray with me that I would be dependent on him and his guidance, and not impatient over what feels like wasted time. Thank you.

Who am I
That the Lord of all the earth
Should choose to know my name,
Should choose to feel my hurt?
Who am I
That the bright and morning star
Should choose to light the way
For my ever-wandering heart?

Not because of who I am,
But because of what You've done;
Not because of what I've done,
But because of who You are!

I am a flower quickly fading,
Here today and gone tomorrow;
A wave tossed in the ocean;
A vapour in the wind.
Still You hear me when I'm calling;
Lord, You catch me when I'm falling.
And You've told me who I am:
I am Yours.

(c) Lyrics (and Music) Casting Crowns

The day after writing this, some of our Angolan friends invited Tom and me to have a big pizza-making (and eating!) fest with them: a really good time of fun and fellowship, and an answer to prayer.

So please pray with me too that there may be answered prayer for Tom and all his family. Hannah continues to make good progress following her operation; while she recovers she is, however, on some medication to supplement what her body should be producing naturally.

Pray too for the family of Avril (Uruguay) who are facing some challenges related to work.

A number of the GAP students have access to various forms of two-wheeled motorised transport. Please pray for mechanical reliability and safety as they gain experience .