Skip to main content

Clare's Reflection on Zowe Village

We're all back safe and sound from Zowe Village. Here's is Claire's report to her sponsoring church--Central Presbyterian Church of Summit:

Hi all - greetings from Malawi!

This morning I'm sitting at the CitiHope Accountant's laptop banging away at church email. It seems a world away. Looking at emails about the $24k we're going to spend in the CE wing this summer makes me wonder how far that same relatively small cache of cash would go here. Surely it would build a school, a feeding center, a clinic, pay for 2 deep wells, the options go on & on. There is so much need here. And the inequities in our way of life and those of the people here seem unbridgeable. I have to constantly remind myself that our job is to bring hope when I see so little myself.

Yesterday we traveled 3 hours and 92km to the village of Zowe. Zowe is a grouping of 18 villages with 2250 people where CitiHope placed a well (thanks to some faithful CPC donors!) a couple of years back. It is much like an ADP in that there is a clinic - open one day a week and very ill supplied with medicines, etc. We brought a couple of plastic grocery bags full of ointments, over the counter medications, bandages and we doubled easily their available supplies - so sad!

All but 1 or 2 of the km traveled yesterday were on a dirt, rock, sand road. Amid the jostling, jarring ride we witnessed incredible scenery -rocky outcroppings, termite hills ten ft. tall and 12 ft in diameter, 8 ft. tall poinsettias, amazing trees and corn planted everywhere, along with millet (local beer anyone?), soy beans, etc.

When we got to the village of Zowe - we greeted the people, got a tour of the pharmacy, presented them with 2 soccer balls, and sat in their school getting our bearings. Then we went into a local house where we shared a picnic-style lunch amongst our group out of the eyes of villagers - it is hard to eat when folks with so little await your return.

After lunch part of our group went to scope out another well site several km away and some of us stayed to play with he kids. Elaine, a retired school teacher in our group and a great sport began a pick-up kick ball game. It was a delight! A lot of talk over rules of the game finally ceased so kids could just laugh and run and watch at least 3 grey haired folks (me included) play with them. I don't think adults in their culture ever really play. Kick ball without rules is really more fun
than the ruled variety and the faces of the children here when gleeful or laughing at the antics of white people is intoxicating. It was almost impossible to get the girls to join our game - ultimately we were successful with only a few. The girls here are taught to be totally deferential to men/boys of all ages - even younger than themselves. They are taught to be shy, many are painfully shy.

Children as a general rule are impressively well behaved throughout the country. They sit in rows on the ground for church without tugging at kids near them or whispering to them. They follow requests of adults with very little time lag. It's truly incredible. However all that goes out the window when we begin to hand out treats. Then we are overrun, swamped by the hordes. We've learned to make the selection of children to receive goodies random or to leave goodies with their teacher for distribution after we go. When we figured out that the girls and youngest kids wouldn't join our kick ball game, Stacy pulled out a bottle of bubbles and began to play with the pre-schoolers. I took out a bag of balloons and began to blow them up and sail them over the heads of the kids clamoring around me. I was surprised when the mothers intercepted the balloons, wrestling for them as much as any scrappy kid. They wanted them to decorate their homes a translator told me. So I gave each mom a handful to take home hoping they wouldn't feel the need then to compete with the kids to grab them. A few quit but not all! Anyway - more later - gotta go to lunch.

Popular posts from this blog

Liberation Spirituality: Henri Nouwen and Gustavo Gutierrez in Dialogue

Liberation Spirituality: Henri Nouwen and Gustavo Gutierrez in Dialogue Lecture Notes: Presented by Michael J. Christensen, Ph.D.,  Associate Professor in the Practice of Spirituality and Ministry,  Drew University;  and  International Director, Communities of Shalom, The United Methodist Church Introduction “There is a little man in Peru, a man without any power, who lives in a barrio with poor people and who wrote a book.   In this book he simply reclaimed the basic Christian truth that God became human to bring good news to the poor, new light to the blind, and liberty to the captives.   Then years later this book and movement it started is considered a danger by [the USA, or Rome], the greatest power on earth.   When I look at this little man, Gustavo, and think about [the President of the US, or the Pope], I see David standing before Goliath, again with no more weapon than a little stone, a stone called A The...

First Generation Lambs Club Reunion

Fifteen of us gathered Saturday night at the Lambs Club for a 35 th year reunion of those who helped start the Lamb’s Church in Times Square in the mid to late 1970’s, including: Rev. Paul S. Moore , Founder of the Lamb’s Church of the Nazarene, and his wife, Tamara Dr. Michael J. Christensen , charter member and former associate pastor, and his wife Dr. Rebecca Laird Fr. William (BJ) Webe r, former Associate Pastor and Director of the Lamb’s Residency, and his wife Sheila who lived at the Lamb’s Jim and Dustee Hullinger, who were on staff together and made the Lamb’s their home for over 25 years Effie Canepa , who was the church pianist under 3 pastors, and her husband Peter Shirley Close, who attended the Lamb’s in the late 1970’s while studying, performing  and teaching music and voice Carl "Chappy" Valente , former associate pastor Rev. Bob DiQuatto , lead singer of the Church’s “Manhattan Project” and staff member of the Lamb’s, and his son Jason Rev. Gab...

Not Afraid of Death by Julia Esquivel

In reading your blog, Michael, I immediately think of these two poems is poem by Julia Esquivel, from Guatemala, whom I had the pleasure of meeting years ago.  Un abrazo, Ada Maria I AM NOT AFRAID OF DEATH I am no longer afraid of death I know well Its dark and cold corridors Leading to life. I am afraid rather of that life Which does not come out of death, Which cramps our hands And slows our march. I am afraid of my fear And even more of the fear of others, Who do not know where they are going, Who continue clinging To what they think is life Which we know to be death! I live each day to kill death; I die each day to give birth to life, And in this death of death, I die a thousand times And am reborn another thousand Through that love From my People Which nourishes hope! THREATEN WITH RESURRECTION They have threatened us with Resurrection There is something here within us which doesn’t let us sleep, which doesn’t let us rest, which doesn’t stop the pounding deep inside. It is t...