Welcome Team.

I think the whirlwind is finally over. The past two weeks have been hectic busy, but some really wonderful things have happened as well.

Two weeks ago, we received a team of five from North Carolina at the school. There's much pitter-patter of the heart that takes place when a team comes. Firstly, you want to be ready for them. You want to make sure that everything is well arranged and that all goes smooth. The next pitter-patter comes with not knowing what the team will be like. Some short-term teams come with their own agenda. Some are demanding. Some are unwilling to bend as necessary to the culture. Some are a relief to send home. Here's one example of what I mean:

The team: "We're going to build an orphanage or some sort of building that will make us feel like good people. (the good people part implied)"

What really happens: Not much. Burundians don't want a part of something they haven't had a hand in. Bam. A nice building goes up, and there's no ownership of it. In fact, many Burundians may be upset because the team has taken away jobs of builders in a country with an 80% unemployment rate. The country is ALL about community and relationships, so this prior mindset doesn't work.

If the Burundians have asked a team to come build something and that's the need, then that's fine and dandy, and that team probably really is doing something great with their time. All I'm saying is, American culture doesn't always work in other places. The best way to help is to come and say to the people, "What do you need?" A lot of times we forget that our way isn't necessarily the best way for everyone.

I used to struggle with the idea of short-term mission trips for these reasons. I used to wonder why people didn't just send the money they would have used on a plane ticket to the place, and feed oh say about 100,000 mouths instead. (Not exaggerating, yes, money goes that far here in many cases.) In my little human mind, I thought the money would go further than the people and their time. But now having come here three times total, I guess you could say I've finally changed my mind.

Here's why: The first time I came, I was working with Youth for Christ, a wonderful organization geared towards raising up children and youth that will be leaders led by Christ in a nation that has been stricken with war and genocide over the past couple of decades. But if I'm really honest, me being here probably did not make that much of a difference, well, at least in Burundi. In fact, I probably didn't change any Burundians' lives even half as much as they changed mine. (If you've ever come to Burundi or gone on a short-term mission trip, you're probably either laughing or nodding because you know exactly what I'm talking about.) Seeing the struggles and lives of Burundians is incredibly humbling and will put you on your knees quick. Seeing their

dependency and love for the Lord were the biggest effects they had on me that first visit.

The second time I came, same thing. I mean, you could say I taught some English classes to people, and made a difference with their connecting to the East African community, but still again, my effect on their lives versus their effect on mine? Forgive the cheese, but it was priceless. So that pretty much throws the money factor out the window.

In the end, I've decided that God is the big banker of the world, and He can handle finances. If he wants to take people half way across the world to change their lives and pay thousands of dollars to do it, He can. He's God. It's got this one under control.

I'm head-over-heels grateful that I am someone God has allowed these experiences here. And I trust that He's good, He's for humanity (not against them), and He's going to do a much better job of taking care of them than my donations of time or money or whatever I'm offering ever can (not that those things are useful too.) He's about relationships and journeys, and He doesn't work the way we people work. I get the sense that He's a lot more about the heart than he is the green.

"My thoughts are nothing like your thoughts," says the Lord. "And my ways are far beyond anything you could imagine. For just as the heavens are higher than the earth, so my ways are higher than your ways and my thoughts higher than your thoughts." Isaiah 55:8-9 (NLT)

Something to chew on...so back to this team. Capital F-A-B-U-L-O-U-S. (Don't even try to sing that like Fergie because I already tried, and it doesn't work.)

They came, they received, they listened, they loved.

They were humbled.

They changed.

They grew.

Incredible.

If you want to know what happened, get out your midnight oil because this is my longest blog entry yet.

The first day when a team comes is all about cultural adjustment. Just arriving in Burundi--the chaotic traffic, men biking with mattresses strapped down, women carrying logs on their heads and babies on their back, the massive amounts of dust, the constant shouting of "Mzungu, Mzungu," encountering beggars with missing limbs, hearing the language, the busyness of the city, etc.--all after a two day plane ride (that's how long it takes to get here from the States), most people just need some Fantas, a nice plastic chair, and a smiling face to welcome them. Burundi itself is enough on its own.

Once the team got adjusted, they came down to the school each day and loved on the teachers and kids--teaching them different Bible lessons, sports, crafts, etc. One guy even brought an American football which the kids had never seen before. The afternoons brought different adventures.

Our first adventure (second day) was to go to one of the teacher's houses from school to take Fantas. (Side: Fantas is a general term for all sodas. . .kinda like how lots of people in the South call sodas Coke, even if it's a Pepsi. It's a sign of community and brings people together even if they don't have enough money to feed food to the other person.) The teacher's name was Patrick, and we listened to his amazing story. Here's the jist: Patrick's dad died when he was younger. When the war started, the only person to take care of him was his uncle who was in the rebel soldier army. So Patrick lived in the bush for two years, until he was able to go to a refugee camp in the city. He wanted to join the army, but his uncle persuaded him to go back to school and get an education. Thankfully, Patrick did just that which allowed him to get a job at Discovery School. In the meantime, Patrick's mother married a true genuine witch doctor (very common here) because he made enough money to feed the family. This marriage was devastating to Patrick, one, because it split his family in their religious beliefs (Patrick's a Christian), and two, because Patrick had to endure the persecution of his stepfather: "Where's your God? Why can't your God provide this food? Some God you worship." Eventually Patrick was able to save up enough money to afford a small mud house on the compound the school is on and leave. He may have left in body, but he did not leave in spirit. He is still the breadwinner for his entire family (extended as well) at this point, even though they only eat one meal a day, thanks to his job at Discovery School. He also managed to build his sister a small one room house (i.e. buy the bricks and build it himself) who is a single mom of six children. He's currently going to a Burundian university to get higher education, and in turn, have more opportunities to provide for his family. His mother tells him if he can be the sole provider for the family, she will leave her witch doctor husband and believe that God is who he says He is through Patrick's provision.

Patrick, a man who lives on faith

The third day, we went to another teacher's house, Annociate, to get a glimpse into Burundian life, and to be fed a delicious homemade Burundian meal. We hiked up the steep and muddy hills in the rain until we arrived. Overall, the trip took about an hour from the school. To think, this lady climbs up and down this hill everyday to come to work, even when she was 8 months pregnant! The physical strength and endurance of Burundians puts the rest of the world to shame! It was incredibly touching to experience this lady's hospitality and openness. I was shocked at the feast that was prepared--rice, beans, lingalinga (greens), fried bananas, fish, goat, peas, kasava bread, and fries. I know it wasn't easy trekking that food up the hill and cooking for that many people. But that's just it! Many Burundians love so well. Being as poor as they are, relationships and love are of utmost importance. I imagine that's why no one comes to Burundi and leaves unchanged. I'm more and more convinced that love is the most powerful tool we have to help people. Easy for the brain to believe, hard for everything else to follow I suppose. Food, community, singing, prayer, a view of the city from the top! We fully enjoyed it all.

A homemade feast is upon us!

View from the top of Bujumbura

The fourth day, the teachers and I took the team to a giant tea plantation about an hour up the road. It was a time of really faith-building conversations in the bus with the Burundian teachers and a time to take in the amazing scenery of Burundi. It was a bit less intense as far as seeing the lives of Burundians, but it was a necessary and fruitful time of the Mzungus (myself included) processing and giving feedback on what they'd seen and heard thus far. I absolutely loved

hearing their conversations because it was obvious that hearts were changing and being humbled to better serve the Lord our God. I heard things like, "Wow. I can't believe the sense of self-

entitlement I've bought into.", "I had no idea the power I have to make a difference in Burundi with a simple donation.", or "I don't even know what it means to rely on God. There's always food in my fridge, there's doctors when I'm sick, there's a car when I need to go somewhere. I need to learn how to rely on God for my daily bread." It's really hard not to change the way you feel about the world when you've taken in the stories and seen the lives that Burundians live. I admit myself, I never get used to the rawness of life here. It truly is buhorobuhoro--day by day.

Some teachers from school, the team and myself

snapping a quick pic at the tea field in the rain

The fifth day was really special because we went to my co-teacher's house, Ismael. I've gotten to work with this man since my first week in Burundi, so I was really excited to meet his six siblings and big mama. He also shared his story about how God spared their lives in the war. That night, the team finished off with an amazing drum show, many thanks and prayer, and farewell dinner. What an encouraging group!

Can't you hear the sounds when you look at this picture?

That weekend was my birthday and I decided to go with the teachers upcountry to visit the house of my principal, Lucien, and welcome his new baby into the world--kind of a Burundian version of a baby shower after the baby is born. I didn't tell anyone it was my birthday because that's not my thing, but I knew it would be a fun day, and that was enough for me. Fantas, rice and beans galore, singing, dancing, and throwing a baby up and down. Yep, that's a Burundian shower for you. In a country with a life expectancy of 45, they sure do know how to celebrate life.

Lucien, his wife, and new baby boy!

Just soaking it all in. Oh yeah, and I did eventually get to celebrate my birthday at beautiful Lake Tangynika. Fantas please!