Staying above muddy water. . . sometimes

2009-03-22

Dear family and friends,
Another week (or two?) has flown by. Tonight, we fed four of our 24 Elders and had a Preach My Gospel study and testimony session. These particular Elders are dear ones. We have something in common with all of them. Elder Shongwe, we knew in Swaziland. Elder Haupert, is from Iowa, and his brother was one of Ryan's companions in India. Elder Roberts is the new missionary and he is from where? . . . Monroe Utah! He knows all the Lundgreens and he lives right next to the cemetery where my dad, grandparents and many other relatives are resting. The only connection we have so far with the 4^th Elder, Elder Brennen, is that he has actually been to Monroe! (He's from California) The story is a little sketchy because he was a youngster at the time, but he remembers that his father found out that a descendent of Joseph Smith was living in Monroe in impoverished conditions. The Brennens loaded up their family dining room table and delivered it, along with a few other commodities to this family in Monroe. So, from Swaziland to India to Monroe Utah, we find it is always a small world in the gospel.

We have still been trying to stay above(muddy) water here . . . literally and metaphorically. Not only are we swamped by our responsibilities, but the rainy season, which is supposed to be at an end, is still pouring forth its torrential downpours. The roads are all but impassable. We drive a rear wheel drive Toyota Condor and we have been stuck four times, and counting.

Episode #1: It wasn't actually due to the mud, but the rains had washed a cover off of a square drain-hole which was small enough not to be noticed in the midst of all the potholes, but large enough to swallow our front tire up to the axel. It was a hard and surprising landing and it was in the middle of a compound thru which Rand was taking a short cut (sound familiar children?) and I will just say without striking too much fear into our posterity that it wasn't a good place for two white folks to be stuck. My silent, urgent praying has reached an all-time high here in Zambia, and as I was in the midst of such supplication, two big chaps (think of Karl Malone & Mohammed Ali) came to our rescue. They couldn't get us out, so three other he-men came and the five of them literally lifted our car out of the hole. Then they asked for money of course. We only had our cash box under the seat which had twenty million kwacha in it because we were on our way to pay missionary allotments. We definitely didn't want to produce that box, so we just said we didn't have any money on us right then, but when we were back in the area, they could knock on our window and we'd have some money for them. Luckily, they let us go at that. We haven't been back to that area, and perhaps never will be.

Episode #2: Rand was out in another compound on a welfare issue with District President Lumbama and a Branch President. It was getting dark when he backed into a mud-sink-hole, and this time, both rear tires sunk to the axle. Rand's saving grace was that he was in a compound with two black brethren. They told him to stay in the car and they jumped out, and in Bemba, started summoning help. It ended up taking 20 men to lift the car up and out, and when the car was finally on all fours again (versus two front tires and one rear axle,) the pack of men swarmed Rand's window wanting money. He took a bill from his pocket and before he could lift it to the window, a big muddy arm shot in and grabbed it. Rand saw that it was a 50,000kwacha ($10) which is a ton of money. When the muddied pack saw the 50, it started a brawl and the last thing Rand saw as he sped away was that the bill was torn in half in the scuffle.

Episode #3: We'd actually had a culturally uplifting evening; a first for sure! President Lumbama's boss had invited the Lumbamas and us to the French School Concert (did you know that over half of continental Africa's official language is French?) We were provided tickets on the front row, seated next to the French and Italian ambassadors of Zambia! The Lumbama's had never been to any kind of a concert before. When it was over, it was raining full waterfalls from heaven. Rand borrowed a guard's umbrella and went alone to retrieve the car. He didn't come back and when we heard the car alarm blaring, Pres. Lumbama ran to try to rescue him from whatever. When they finally drove up, the car was covered in mud, and their muddy suits and shoes looked unsalvageable. Rand had been blocked in, and while trying to maneuver out, he'd backed into a mud-filled ditch. A couple of men tried to help and rocked the car so hard the alarm had gone off. So that was two nights in a row with Pres. Lumbama, stuck in the mud! The other guys who had helped them were so thoroughly covered in mud that Rand gave them much money and told them to buy new clothes.

Episode #4: We took Sister Lumbama home one night because her husband was delayed at the chapel. They live in a compound, at the end of one of the worst, muddy-holed roads in the world. It had been pouring all day. We dropped Sis. Lumbama off and as she opened the security gate outside her adobe home, we saw that she had to wade through water ankle deep to get to her front door. She was wearing such nice shoes! They need a canoe (and a car . . . a Hummer preferably.) We were doing fine on the road out, until we came upon a truck parked in the middle of the road. Trying to inch around it, we got too far into a slanted mud hole and that was it once again for our rear-wheel-drive-waste-of-a-vehicle. (Apologies to all tithe payers who provided us our vehicle.) On a weekend, in the dark, in a compound, is not where we would choose to be stuck in the mud. I opened the door which I had to push against the mud and I just started to laugh. Then the people all around us started to laugh. Everyone was laughing except Rand. One middle-aged man said he would help us and gathered up a few younger helpers. Everyone who had been laughing and helping was soon splattered with mud and the laughter died down and we got out, but not before giving the guys a handful of small bills which made them holler and jump with delight.

Our experiences have made us realize with a growing comfort level that Zambians are mostly a kind and helpful people. They do always hope for monetary compensation from us, but in their circumstances, it is completely understandable. We have learned to travel with a wad of small bills which are easily accessible; we call it our "mud money"—another note we will write in the much-needed handbook for Africa-bound senior couples.

So, we now have our flat (apartment) fixed up a little more to our liking, which has also improved our comfort level. Our comfort level has also improved as Rand has quickly learned how to get around this confusing city. I've driven a few times, but without him to navigate, I am hopeless. Miles and miles of pot holes, confusion and traffic congestion (pedestrians and autos), is all I can see! Plus, driving on the wrong side of the road, in the wrong side of the car and shifting with the wrong hand, is challenge enough, let alone being directionally impaired!

We are looking forward to serving with the new President, Pres. Dube, from Zimbabwe. We are very encouraged by everything we hear about him. He served a Zimbabwe mission and was assigned for most of it to Zambia. He was the first Stake Pres. in Zimbabwe. He is currently in the mission presidency (Rand has never met the other two counselors, both of whom are in different countries) and he is the head of the Zimbabwe Institute and Seminary program. He is only 46, so he has some good youthful energy left! Sounds good, huh?

This week is going to be full. The Area auditors will be flying in from Johannesburg for an emergency audit of the District accounts. (The accounts have been frozen, greatly adding to our problems in financing this arm of the mission.) Elder Bricknell, a Seventy, will be here also to look for property to purchase for another chapel. Rand and Pres. Lumbama will be with him for two days straight. Pres. Bester will fly in to help with the audit and do some much-needed welfare training and meet with Rand on some pending issues. We are having an emergency transfer of one of our elders, and a new one will be coming in from Zimbabwe so my ongoing-immigration-chase continues. Rand is also scheduled to travel to the Copperbelt to help move Elders into a new boarding and to tow a car with a blown engine back to Lusaka. I will stay here to host one of the auditor couples in our flat, and to keep the mission-office lights on, so to speak.

In all of our ups and downs, we do fully acknowledge the Lord's hand in our involvements here and in our safekeeping. I have to say that Rand is very intuitive about what needs to happen when and where. (Except for, of course, driving thru mud.) He has been very involved with the new District President and this is probably one of the main reasons we are here. Zambia needs Pres. Lumbama and Pres. Lumbama has needed Elder Patterson. . . (or should I say the availability of a senior missionary. How we need senior missionaries. Our job would be managable if we had a few more senior couples here. ) Pres. and Sister Lumbama have become our beloved and eternal friends. It makes missing our 8-year-old granddaughter Mikelle's baptism almost bearable. Almost.