Good question my ever pondering self wondered. For the last few months I have been feeling an urge to write/blog again.  Over the holidays I decided to check in on myself and find out the last time I had put pen to paper or more accurately fingers to the keyboard.  I was stunned to discover it was November of 2010.  Not possible!!! was my first reaction.  This simply can’t be the case my soul proclaimed but there in black and white were the undeniable facts staring back at me.  I wondered to myself, where did you go Bob Scott?

It was in that moment 2011 came into focus. I had spent all last year recovering!  I didn’t know whether to be happy that I had such clarity or sad that I had so few achievements to show for the year.  By the grace of God I have been healthy my whole life.  I had never had an operation and other than a few broken bones due to my over enthusiasm, been in reasonably in good health.  In 2011, I recovered from 4 operations. Yes, the end of every quarter of the year was spent in recovery mode.  For my goal oriented personality it was a severe limitation that at times had my mind battling the darkness that underachieving overachievers dread.  You know what?  I survived and I’m looking forward to a more productive 2012.

First up on the agenda is getting the family room painted and ready for a new wood floor. Who has carpet in their kitchen area?  No one!  It’s a terrible idea.  When we purchased the house 10 years ago it had carpet in the kitchen and we said at the time “we need to change that.”  We’re 10 years late!

Next, Elizabeth and I head to Israel for 2 weeks late January and early February.  She works for an Israeli company and is traveling over with clients to tour the manufacturing plants there.  I’m going along to research the kibbutz model that one of the plants is located on.  Kibbutz’s were crucial in the economic development of Israel as a nation.  The kibbutz model ties in with my vision to one day build self-sustainable villages in Zimbabwe.

By time we return, the paperwork should be ready for us to load the next container of medical supplies and books for Zimbabwe.  These supplies are headed for the southern part of the country in an area around Mtshabezi.  There are over 16,000 books packed and ready to go. The children will be so excited when they see them.

Once the container leaves Kansas City I plan to get working on 2 books and start blogging more. 

I’m back!

I have been debating for quite a while whether or not to tell this story.  My hang up has been that the story is rather personal and I've been pondering whether I really want to be this vulnerable with the rest of the world.   Over recent years I've shared it with a few close friends and they have strongly encouraged me to spread the word as it may be helpful to other fathers, so here we go...

As new parents the thoughts that fill our minds as to what it will take to be the perfect parent can be quite intimidating.  In religious circles in can be downright oppressive. We want more than anything for our children to have the best which means we need to be the best. My father was no different in that regard.  He was so excited when I arrived.  In fact, he already had my whole life planned out!  He knew exactly what it was going to take for me to grow up into manhood and his plan was laid out from day one.  Everything was on schedule and working fine until my personality began to emerge.  At that point things deteriorated quickly into crisis mode as unfortunately his son was not the conformist his father was.  My father was a part of, as Tom Brokaw put it, "The Greatest Generation."  This was a generation of men who returned from World War II and built the world's greatest economy with the same military precision and hard work ethic they had trained under.  They knew how to take orders and get the job done.  They were loyal company men who were trained to believe that conformity was the best policy and that you never challenged authority.

My father came into fatherhood with that same philosophy and set out to instruct me in those very same principles.  The problem was that God had given him a non-conformist for a son who asked "why" about everything.  Asking "why" in my father's world was the equivalent of treason.  One never challenged authority nor made ones superior look stupid by asking a question they couldn't answer.  Unfortunately for him, I just wasn't wired that way.  I was curious about everything and wanted to understand how and why things worked the way they did.  I wanted to understand people's behavior as at times I found it downright strange.  He wasn't the only one I frustrated.  I horrified teachers, priests and anyone else in authority with my politically incorrect questions.  Things escalated to the point that my adolescent years were spent living in the basement, trying to avoid too much contact with him so things wouldn't deteriorate into another verbal war.  It finally hit critical mass when at age 17 I ran away from home.  I just couldn't live in the same house with him anymore as it felt like I was suffocating.

A year later, I had a rather intense spiritual encounter with God late at night while alone in my rented apartment.  While this certainly helped take some of the edge off our tense relationship, it wasn't a cure-all.  I later moved out of state and our interactions were relegated to an occasional visit home where I tried to be on my best behavior.  Then one day I got a call from him asking if he could come visit me in St Louis where I was living at the time.  I was completely caught off guard as he rarely came into my world.  In fact, once while playing High School football I was running around with the ball when I looked up and saw him standing on the sidelines.  I was so stunned I fumbled the ball out of bounds!  It turned out the reason Dad called was that he had been battling cancer and was in the middle of revaluating his priorities.  At the time it looked like he had beaten it and so he drove down so we could spend a few days together. It was a wonderful time.

Sadly, a few years later the cancer returned and this time it was terminal.  I returned to Milwaukee to visit him and together we drove down to Chicago to visit some relatives.  What happened in that car over the next couple of hours forever changed my life. 

As we drove I was filled with so many conflicted and confused emotions.  I hurt for my father as he was facing death's door and it was scary.  I hurt for my mother who was at some point going to lose the love of her life.  I was frustrated because in the last few years he and I had finally found some harmony in our relationship.  Now he was going to be taken away and we would never know where our relationship may have gone.  As we chatted about a number of insignificant things he suddenly became quite serious and said "When I see God, I'm going to ask Him why it is that when you are finally wise enough to be a good parent it's too late!"  I was rather stunned by what he said.  First, my father was never the philosophical type so this was so unlike him.  Secondly, what he said was extremely enlightening.  I had never considered the fact that God has set up life in such a way that parenting is as much a learning process as being a developing child.  In other words, there is no such thing as the perfect parent.  Raising children is as much about our own personal growth as that of our children.  I didn't have children at the time but I treasured his words in my heart.

While I was pondering what he said, I turned to look at him to say something and noticed tears streaming down his face.  This was a bit unnerving as I didn't ever remember seeing my father cry.  He tried to compose himself but finally just blurted out "I'm so sorry!"  I had no idea what was about to come next but just hearing those words had me crying as well and I was the one driving.  Through blurry eyes, driving down Interstate 94, I tried to keep the car on the road.  He then said the most freeing words. "I was wrong about you. I told you all your life that you were a rebellious son when in fact you weren't.  You are exactly how God made you.  The problem was on my end as I never bothered to ask God who you were.  I thought being a good father meant having your whole life mapped out for you.  As you grew older and refused to conform to the mold I had built, I took it as a personal affront.  The truth was you were crying out "Dad, this is not me, I can't be this person.”  I couldn't hear you because I wasn't listening".  At that point I was crying so hard I couldn't drive anymore and pulled off to the side of the road.  We sat there for the next few minutes sobbing together. He was a father in need of forgiveness and I the son needed to know I wasn't a screw up. His words were so liberating.

As we hugged and fought back more tears, he made me promise then and there that when I have my own children I would ask God first who they are and raise them according to His plan and not my own. He died on May 4th, 1981 and a little over a year later his first grandson was born. His words got me through many a dark night of the soul as I was being tormented by my own failures as a parent. I hope that with all I have learned along the journey, I will be a better grandparent than I was as a parent. After all, the whole process is a learning experience and for you young parents, remember failure is a part of the process. Give yourselves a break and smile at your mistakes!

It's been awhile since I last posted to my blog. This is primarily due to my exhaustion after our last trip to Southern Africa. We have also been launching our new education initiative in Zimbabwe called “Project Aspire.” In between all the busyness, I've been reflecting on the trip and what first peaked my curiosity about Zimbabwe. The night of the book launch in Johannesburg, I shared with those present what started me on this fateful journey...

As a child attending church at St Alphonsis in Greendale Wisconsin, I remember hearing the story of the Good Samaritan for the first time. There was something in my soul that was immediately attracted to the story though at the time I didn't understand what it was. I just knew that it deeply moved me and that there was something profoundly right about it. Due to the fact that no one ever explained to me what a "Gospel" or "Epistle" were, I was 18 years old before I discovered that the story was from the Bible!  Other than on Sunday mornings, the words Gospel & Epistle were never used in any other context of my life. On the night of June 30th, 1975, I had an extremely overwhelming and personal confrontation with God that set me on a course of discovery about who He really was. I wanted no part of institutional Christianity, as I had seen it as defensive in nature, self-righteous in attitude and destructive in application.  More people had died over the last 2000 years in the name of God than I could fathom. Jesus had said "Blessed are the peacemakers" and yet the history of Christianity suggested that few actually believed that. It's a rather embarrassing memory but in the Fall of 1975 I was with a group of Christian young people who had grown up in the church. The leader of the group asked us to turn to Luke 10:25 in our Bibles. In a moment of innocent glee, I blurted out "I didn't know the story of the Good Samaritan was in the Bible!"  The whole group started laughing at me as of course they had grown up knowing this was the case. I instantly realized just how naive I was.

In time I was to discover that naiveté has its benefits if it is equally coupled with curiosity. Let me explain. Over the years I have come to see that many within the Christian community have become overly confident in their assumptions of what they think they know about Jesus. This has led to laziness and a subtle but dangerous assumption that because they know it, they practice it. People make huge, sweeping statements based on something they heard someone else say (or the environment they grew up in) without actually looking into the matter for themselves. Frankly that scares me!  The story of the Good Samaritan is a excellent example that few Christians actually understand the real message behind the story. They grew up hearing and seeing the story played out on a flannel graph in Sunday School. They think the story is simply about being compassionate to the unfortunate when in fact it goes much deeper than that. If one is curious enough and digs down further, one discovers that Jesus is actually teaching about loving ones enemies - something that few Christians are actually prepared to do. In fact, even though most all the religions of the world agree that Jesus teachings reflect the heart of God, they too find this one simple truth nearly impossible to embrace. Like Christians they find it hard to actually live out this principle as it requires us to give up the bad attitudes we've held onto for generations and love those who misunderstand or persecute us. It requires us to quit being victims and be proactive in finding reconciliation and resolution.

Jesus was born into a persecuted, oppressed and subjugated people. In 64 BCE the Roman General Pompey conquered Jerusalem and made the Jewish kingdom a client state of Rome. His teachings weren't spoken from an island paradise while he was in exile. He grew up watching the Romans marching through the streets taking what they wanted and putting down with a vengeance anything they saw as a threat. He saw blood on the streets, people taxed to the point of oppression and racism in every strata of society. He witnessed firsthand the arrogance of the Romans and the humiliation of his own people. Despite enormous pressure to raise up a guerilla force, he resisted and preached peace and reconciliation.  He told people that his kingdom was "within".  His teaching flew in the face of conventional wisdom and the popular public opinion of the time. He was after the motive of people's hearts as he knew that if hearts were transformed they would in turn transform nations. His story of the Good Samaritan was both stunning and scandalous to the crowd he was talking to. In their minds there was no such thing as a Good Samaritan!  To the Jewish people, the Samaritans were mixed breed heretics. Let me explain.

Around 1200 B.C. after Joshua died, the High Priest Eli built a new tabernacle in the hills of Shiloh in a region called Samaria. In 722 B.C., Sargon II of Assyria attacked and conquered the ten Jewish tribes of northern Israel. Samaria was laid waste and Sargon deported the Jews back to Assyria as slaves. Just under 300 years later when Ezra & Nehemiah returned to Jerusalem to rebuild the walls, they were greeted by an excited "remnant of Jews" still living in the area. Ezra rejected their help due to the fact that they had intermarried with pagan non-Hebrew wives. This insulted and incensed the Samaritans and they began resisting the effort to rebuild Jerusalem. The Samaritans continued worshiping God at their temple at Mount Gerizim north of Jerusalem. This is located near the modern day Palestinian city of Nablus in the West Bank. They continued doing this even after the temple in Jerusalem was rebuilt. Years later in 167 B.C. the notorious Seleucid (Greek) King Antiochus Epiphanes ruled this region. He was determined to Hellenize the people and become their God even under the threat of death. In order to save their lives, the Samaritans agreed to adopt Greek culture while those in Jerusalem refused and became self-righteous about it.  They considered their northern neighbors the Samaritans as "sell outs." After the Romans conquered the region, the Samaritan temple was rebuilt and their High Priest established their own version of the Torah. The enmity between the two groups reached such a fevered pitch that Jews cursed the Samaritans. In fact Jesus disciples James & John suggested to him that they call fire down from heaven to destroy them (Luke 9:54). Jews refused to let Samaritans' covert to Judaism and believed they were headed for eternal damnation. They avoided each other at all cost. Jews would even travel the long way around Samaria into Jordon to avoid being contaminated by the Samaritans.

In the midst of this cultural and religious battle that had been going on for centuries, Jesus tells his Jewish countrymen to "Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength and with all your mind and Love your neighbor as yourself". (Luke 10:27) When a self-righteous expert in the law condescendingly asks Jesus "And who is my neighbor?"  He proceeds to rock his world by telling him a story that if his heart is not pure it will offend him in every sense. In the story, men who the Jews would have considered righteous men (a Priest & Levite) both pass by the wounded traveler who had been beaten leaving him to bleed to death on the side of the road. It was the mixed breed heretic Samaritan that in fact had the right heart - the heart of God. This was scandalous and today would have been a headline in the tabloids.

This will be my last blog entry for awhile as tomorrow I return to the US. I arrive Friday evening and plan on spending the weekend enjoying the company of my lovely wife who I miss dearly. Once I’ve had time to reflect on the last 5 weeks, I will sit down and write some more. Frankly I’m exhausted both mentally and physically. I’ve poured every ounce of my being out on this trip. I’ve talked more in the last month than the previous 6 months combined! My soul longs for silence and my body rest. I need to either go sit by the ocean and listen to the crashing waves or find a mountain stream rushing over rocks. Then again I could just put on my noise canceling headphones I got for Christmas and plug into my NatureScape sounds on my iPhone. The only problem with that is you don’t get to experience the smell of fresh air.

This morning I was up early and drove into downtown Johannesburg. It can be an intimidating experience doing it during rush hour but I had just done the same route the night before. I’ve become used to driving on the left side of the road and shifting with my left hand which certainly makes driving a much more enjoyable experience. I was fortunate today as I was able to find a parking space on the street just up the road from the offices of SAWIMA. Everyone there has been so helpful the last few days and I feel a debt of gratitude to Joice Dube and her organization. At 9AM journalist Thuso Khumalo rolled in to do an interview with me for Voice of America and SW Radio Africa. We had a lengthy conversation on the book and why it’s currently relevant not only in Zimbabwe but South Africa. My perspective of change starting first in the heart and then affecting the surrounding culture has been a paradigm shift for many in the media used to the typical political jargon and clichés. Today we also talked a lot about why the reconciliation process in Zimbabwe seems to have ground to a halt. From my perspective, the government is ill equipped to deal with the issue. Reconciliation happens on a very personal level and can’t be legislated. When the process is being driven politically it becomes about which party or segment of society will benefit the most. At the moment, the selfishly ambitious motives of those involved in the process guarantee failure. After Thuso finished with me he interviewed Nicholas Dube who grew up in Mbezingwe near the Community of Reconciliation. Nickolas shared his perspective on the community and how it impacted his life. While he was there Thuso decided to get Joice’s thoughts on the story. Because Joice lost her dear friend Gaynor in the massacre, it wasn’t long before she found herself passionately proclaiming the message of the book.

Last night Joice arranged for me to meet Glyn Hunter who is a media relations guru. I thoroughly enjoyed talking with her today as she is passionate about change in Zimbabwe. She asked me a plethora of probing questions which were quite stimulating as she was trying to familiarize herself with the story behind Saving Zimbabwe. I soon found myself pacing back and forth while lost in the various conversations we had throughout the day. I’m so grateful that she has decided to help me get the message out to the secular media. Tomorrow I will be doing a TV interview at 2 PM with Chris Maroleng the Africa Editor for the 24 Hour E News Channel here in South Africa. Conveniently their studios are just down the road from where I’m staying.

I then had the privilege of meeting Luke Zunga the author of “Farm Invasions in Zimbabwe; Is Zimbabwe a Democracy?” We talked for a good hour or so about what was really motivating those who claimed they were taking over the white owned farms under the banner of black empowerment. I’ve always found it interesting that most of the white owned farms were managed by black farm managers. How come when the farms were taken over these farm managers and their workforces were chased off the farms? Shouldn’t they have been the ones placed in charge as they had the technical know-how to run them? When you dig deeper you find out that black empowerment was merely a political cliché used by a few elite politicians motivated by selfish ambition and greed. Luke at great peril decided to speak up and expose the fraud. As I soon learned, Luke (a CPA) also has a real passion for raising up the next generation of businessmen and women to turn around Zimbabwe’s failed economy. He done quite a lot of research and put together an extensive training process he wants to implement first in South Africa and later Zimbabwe.

Tonight as I sit in my room, it’s starting to dawn on me that this is my last night sleeping in South Africa. Wow, so much has happened that I feel like I’ve lived a lifetime in the last month. Thank you to all of you for your love and support on this rather emotionally charged journey. So many of you have played an intricate part in making this trip a success. I hope in time we can look back and see that this was the beginning of something good, something healing, and something that made a difference.

I’m eating a wonderfully flaky sausage roll while typing this! It’s making a mess all over but on the other hand it’s quite tasty. I had to throw that in here to provoke Elizabeth too jealously. She loves sausage rolls and meat pies and you can’t find them in the states.

I had two meetings today. The first was west of Johannesburg with ROSCA (Role of Society in Children’s Affairs). The organization was founded 10 years ago in an attempt to help children in trouble, most without parents. The idea was to find a safe place for them to grow up and through education, prepare them to be positive contributors to South Africa society. The founder of ROSCA died in 2006. Before he died he asked board member Dr. Oscar Gunguwo to please look after the 60+ children. Interestingly, all but 2 of the original 60 children are still together after 10 years. They have grown up as a family since they were very little. The oldest children are now just entering college and Dr. Gunguwo is hard pressed to come up with the 40,000 Rand per year necessary to educate them. It’s also been a real challenge finding better lodging. At the moment the children are spread over three homes all rented. Many live with Dr. Gunguwo and his wife Tshidi.  They’d like to find a permanent residence where the children can all stay together in one place.

From there I drove over to Braamfontain near downtown Johannesburg to meet with Joice Dube and Methodist Bishop Paul Verryn. Joice was a close friend of Gaynor (Stewart) Hill who died in the massacre at The Community of Reconciliation in 1987. Joice is also from the Mbezingwe area and wanted to hear all about the trip that Thabani I just made back there. I have a great deal of respect for Joice as she is someone that wants to make a difference. She credits her friend Gaynor for having a huge impact on her current role as Founder of SAWIMA (South African Woman’s Institute for Migration Affairs) After coming to South Africa in the 1990’s, Joice began to see the plight of Zimbabwean refugees who fled over the border fearing for their lives. In Zimbabwe, there has been no freedom of speech and the current government has either killed or imprisoned anyone who dared speak out against it. Over time as more and more Zimbabwean refugees came across the border, some South African’s began to resent these political and economic refugees. Xenophobia began to take root resulting in attacks on Zimbabwean refugee encampments and people being murdered. Joice has been there every step of the way fighting on behalf these marginalized people making sure they are treated with dignity and respect. She’s a difference maker!!!

Methodist Bishop Paul Verryn, has long been an advocate of the oppressed. He was a minister in volatile Soweto during the 1990’s and very outspoken about the evils of Apartheid. Recently he’s been in the news again as he was suspended for a few months by his denomination. Paul currently pastors Central Methodist Church in downtown Johannesburg. As more and more Zimbabwean fled their country they found themselves without a place to stay once they entered South Africa. Paul opened up the church’s facilities to hundreds of desperate people needing a safe place to stay. As you might imagine it was quite scene as most of these people came with just the shirt on their backs. The conditions are rough and Paul is struggling with a massive problem that the government and the church are giving him very little support with. In fact things got so tense with his superiors; he was suspended for a few months and only was recently reinstated. While Bishop Verryn isn’t PC (Politically Correct) he does have the heart of God as He commands: Administer true justice, show mercy and compassion to one another.  (Zech. 7:9)

This morning I was up early for a breakfast meeting with friend Colin Brown who is the Director of Corporate Affairs for Deutsche Bank. We spent a couple hours catching up with each other before his crazy day began. With the FIFA World Cup scheduled to start here in a month, he’s been running around getting things ready to entertain DB’s many European clients headed this way. Colin was full of questions about our recent journey to Zimbabwe. I realized in talking to him that so much has happened, I couldn’t fit it all in to a 2 hour breakfast! I left our time together with a heart full of gratitude for such a good friend. It’s special when you have people in your life who genuinely care about you and the burdens of your heart matter to them.

From there I headed over to Rosebank for a scheduled meeting with Kojo Paris to talk about the current status of education in Zimbabwe. Unfortunately he got caught up in the standstill Joburg traffic and couldn’t make the meeting. I decided to make the most of my time and went in search of a mailing tube for the newspaper article I had laminated. It wasn’t my day as I walked for what seemed like miles in vain. I’ll try again tomorrow at another mall. Upon returning home I discovered that we had internet access at the house. Its slow and the signal weak but nonetheless we have access!!! I spent the afternoon catching up on emails many of which were 3 weeks old…sorry to all those waiting for a response. Late in the day Joice Dube contacted me about a meeting with Bishop Paul Verryn tomorrow. I’m really looking forward to meeting him as he has been a huge advocate for Zimbabwean refuges here in Joberg. Joice and he are a formidable force of justice on their behalf.

This evening I was the guest of honor for dinner with our Scottish hosts Iain & Liz Ruickibie. I have enjoyed staying at their B&B for nearly 3 weeks. They call the place One Hundred Thousand Welcomes and I couldn’t recommend a better location to stay in Johannesburg. Liz is full of energy always looking for ways to help make your stay as enjoyable as possible. The location is in Sandton Enclosure which is centrally located and in a very safe part of the city. If you get to this part of the world and are looking for a place to stay please look them up. Tel: 27 (0) 11 8834119 or Cell: 27 (0) 834761685.

I headed over to the Rosebank Mall today to stroll through the Sunday African Rooftop Market. Elizabeth sent me a request for a few things and for a variety of reasons I love this market. I have a great deal of appreciation for people who take the time to produce products with their own hands. I enjoy talking to the artists as each has a story and most have developed their craft under the tutelage of an older craftsman. There are artists representing nations all across the African continent. Seeing all that diversity in one place is quite inspiring. I have to exercise extreme self-control and remind myself that I can’t take all of these pieces of artwork home with me. I do find myself though trying to figure out how I can manage to get a few of the large Zimbabwe stone sculptures home with me.

While I was there, I decided to get the front page of a newspaper laminated that Guide Ncube had given me a few weeks ago. In 1987,The Sunday Times had done a follow up article on Matthew Marais and Laura Russell a month after losing their parents. Guide’s father Neville had kept the article for many years until he passed away. Guide then graciously entrusted it to me so I could take care of it. I decided that it was best to laminate it so people could continue looking at it without causing further deterioration. As one looks at the photos of Matthew & Laura as children, you can’t help but be reminded of the loss of innocence they suffered. Knowing both of them as adults one can’t help but admire their strength of character and courage. I’m very proud of both of them and appreciate their support in publishing the story of The Community of Reconciliation.

Around noon, I met with Tshidi Gunguwo who is the sister-in-law of Tatenda Gunguwo of Voice of Peace in Harare. Tshidi heads up an organization here in Joburg for trouble children. We decided to meet on Tuesday so I can learn more about what she’s doing. From there I headed over to meet with Guide one last time and show him the photos of our time with his grandfather Stephen at Mbezingwe. I also shared with him about our extraordinary meeting with Brian Oldrieve from Foundations for Farming. Guide wants to return to Zimbabwe and farm and I’d like to see him enroll in the school there.

This evening Dave Russell called me and again I was astounded by the connectedness of global relationships in the most extraordinary ways. Dave told me that he and Delia hosted Victor Nakah the President of the Zimbabwe Theological College at their home a few days ago. If you look back at my May 5^th blog entry, when Thabani and I were in Bulawayo, we decided to drop in and surprise Victor. Elizabeth and I first met Victor in St Louis last year. He was speaking at a church there and we decided to drive over and meet him. How Dave and Delia know Victor I have no idea! I will find out more on Thursday when I head over to their house for my last meal before leaving the country.

Today was a day to get my bearings, rest and plan out the next 5 days before I leave on Thursday. So much has happened on this trip that I’m mentally and emotionally fatigued. I’m trying to remind myself to not process too much as often it takes months to gauge the true significance of things. After a good sleep last night, I was wide awake at 4 AM! My mind was racing full of so many questions about what lies ahead for us. So many things seem outside of my control. As I prepare to head back home I wonder have I done my best to get the message of Saving Zimbabwe out. Have I done what God told me…”don’t let the lives of your friends be shed in vain.” I’m so keenly aware of the reactions people have when they read this story. Besides touching them at an emotional level it challenges peoples thinking and gets them talking about how they can make a difference. Will the publishers work aggressively to market the book or is it just another product in a stable of books for them.  

Thabani and I talked for hours while driving to and from Zimbabwe. While we are grateful for God’s grace to send in these much needed medical supplies, our hearts long to do something more long term and developmental. As I look back over the last few weeks and the new relationships that God has brought into our lives, there are some very gifted people that God has placed in Zimbabwe. They, like us, want to build things that are both practical and tangible that make a significant impact on the daily lives of Zimbabweans. My heart soars when I think of the possibilities. At the same time when I look at the resources we currently have to implement our vision it’s laughable. I then remind myself a year ago when we started on the Compassionate Hands medical supply project we had nothing other than a heart of compassion! Over the course of staying faithful to our vision, God suddenly overwhelmed us with more medical supplies than we could handle. Will he do the same with our vision to set up another agri-based community?

It was actually nice having most of the day to myself as it gave me time to settle my soul. I went grocery shopping in the morning and then took a walk. When I got home our B&B hostess was beside herself as her internet connect is still down. After doing some diagnosis I discovered that it’s actually her phone line that’s down therefore her DSL router isn’t getting a signal. When I called the phone company the lines were jammed as hundreds of others are down as well. They’ve been franticly trying to upgrade the phone system here before the World Cup starts in a month. I think they’ve run into a few problems as she been down for over a week!

After setting up a few appointments for next week I took a much needed nap before heading over to see Thabani & Ria. I took my laptop with me so we could show Ria photos of our trip to Zimbabwe. I also showed her the photos I have of the Community of Reconciliation from 1986-87. It was interesting her reaction as she had read the book first and therefore had her own impressions of the story. As she viewed the photos she commented on how the pictures show the reality of how the life lived there was truly a relational community whereby people lived and worked together on a daily basis. Because it’s so different from the norm of suburban life, it’s hard to imagine it until you see the photos. As they say…a picture says a thousand words.

I finally had a good night sleep. It seems that for the last two weeks while in Zimbabwe every morning at 4:00 AM I was awakened by the sound of roosters announcing the morning. Well almost, they would start up again at 5:30 AM just before the sun really came up. So what’s up with the pre-wakeup, wakeup call? Then there were the ants at Thabani’s house! The house had been closed up for some time and the minute we moved in so did thousands of ants. We’d sweep them out and they’d come marching back in at night. I’d lay there in the dark wondering what was going to happen once I closed my eyes. Would I wake up in the middle of the night being carried away like Gulliver by an army of ants? Of course no sleeping experience is complete without the buzzing mosquito in the dark scenario. Lying there guessing where this bloodthirsty insect was going to land and start sucking my blood was enough to drive one crazy. It’s a wonder I ever fell asleep.

After breakfast, I headed over to Avis to pick up a rental car. I stood there for almost an hour while the American guy in front of me figured out what size car he wanted. He was a big guy and had preordered a small car. Of course American small, is a much bigger small than most other places around the world. Fortunately for me I fit in a small SA car, check out the photo! From there I headed over to the shipping company to try and make sense of this container mess. Not having Elizabeth with me makes driving here a real challenge. I was trying to stay on the left side of the road while shifting with my left hand at the same time trying to read a map where the same street changes names countless times! I was quite proud of myself that I found the place.  The woman I needed to see was out for a few hours so I decided to head across the road to the Greenstone Mall.

I needed to get my hair cut (actually shaved) and found a place that did it quite reasonably. I was surprised when after she was finished with me, the stylist took me to the back and a woman started shampooing my head. Since I have no hair she could only really wash my head. I thought maybe I had come to the wrong place and this was a women’s beauty salon. After sitting down and feeling the chair starting to massage my back and the women’s hands massaging my head, I suddenly could have cared less where I was as it was amazing. I think I’m going back there even if my hair barely grows before I leave! As I floated out of the salon, I found AA batteries, banked our book sales monies and purchased an extra bag for the trip home so they won’t charge me $150 for being overweight.

Finally the shipping people called and I drove over to sort out why they wanted me to pay an additional $1,500. They presented me with a list of charges that the Zimbabwe customs people demanded I pay. It’s frustrating as there’s very little you can do to fight it as they have your container. We had a rather honest discussion about how things in Africa get done and often it’s by paying officials. The economy is so bad in Zimbabwe and the government pays its employees so little they all use their positions to supplement their income by taking bribes. They see nothing wrong with this and simply view it as the price you pay for doing business with them and getting what you need done. This of course is a huge moral dilemma for someone with ethics. Equally bad, this is one of the contributing factors as to why there is so much poverty in Africa and the poor remain poor. Those in power use their position to steal the wealth and it never reaches the poor masses. Africa can be a frustrating continent to navigate so one needs to keep one’s eyes on the goal which is the empowerment of the oppressed poor which comes at a cost.

Internet access is still down in the neighborhood where I’m staying in Joburg. It’s been down a week and no one seems to be in a hurry to fix the problem. Everyone’s land lines are down as well so maybe it’s not the internet company but the phone company that has the problem. I decided that after not accessing emails in over 10 days I needed to take matters into my own hands and headed to the Hyde Park Mall in search of wireless access. I was successful but at a steep price. After getting on line I was stunned to find over 400 emails sitting in my Inbox. Am I that far behind…sorry! I decided to first upload another week’s worth of blog entries so that you all can catch up on what we’ve been up to. I also loaded more Facebook pictures as I think they tell a story as well. I then started in on the emails but after 2 hours and $20 I decided to call it a night leaving 250 more for another day!