Tuesday, September 25, 2012

"Miracles Really Do Happen!,..Going to my African Home.."



August 26, 2012:  "Going to My African Home,........"

     So, on this 'day of days',..we were to go thru the jungle once again on piki-piki's(motorbikes), with our destination Station Katanti,-where I grew up some 52+ years ago!   And, to see my house, which reportedly is still standing........My driver was a young man of 24, named Ramazani.   He was a friendly guy,..and a great piki driver.  PTL. 

     But first, we got up @ 6:30am,..with people already coming to Pastor Masudi's house to say goodbye to us........Finally, we got to eat a little 'something' about 7:15am.   After breakfast, we said our goodbye's again,..Pastor Masudi led us in a prayer,...and we started out.  The weather on that day had dawned clear, & sunny. 

     Within 2 kilometers we stopped to redistribute weight, and re-set the backpacks on the piki's.  With that accomplished, Tom's bike would not start,..so we push-started it for the first of MANY, MANY times that day.  We went another couple kilometers, climbing up by the river & the waterfalls where the wrecked hydro-electric plant is located.  Also, we were close to one of the gold mines.....just at that moment Tom's piki-piki quit running again.  This, you see, is quickly becoming the pattern for our day,..
That time we discovered a battery problem,..which took Tom an hour to fix,..but, fix it he did!  The man is a wizard with motorbike repairs!!   Reaching the top of "Telephone Hill" we took a very short break, followed by push-starting Tom's piki again.

     The trip looked a lot like this:  go/stop, mudpits, brackish water, river crossings on logs, bridges either logs or completely out of order,..in which case we had to 'ford' thru the muck.......The first 27 km took 3 hours,...& I counted 25 stops for either piki piki problems,.OR, because someone's bike had fallen,...or just to clear some obstacle/obstruction!  By that time we were all covered with the red mud & smelly water/dirt!  Tom & Kathy's bike was loaded the heaviest, & they had the misfortune of slipping/falling 3x in 27km!  PTL, neither they nor the bike were seriously hurt.

Jungle pit stop,..and wiping away sweat/mud!

     Somewhere in those first 27km, the back tire of my piki-piki went flat.  We pumped it up with a hand pump 3x, ;but only made it about 1km with each pumping.  Finally we reached Lugungu Village, where Berean has a church.   This is a major cross"paths" as well.  The local pastor had gone towards Station Katanti,-where we plan to be presenting the Biblical Leadership Seminar.  We still have 42 km to go,..we've been on the path for over 3 hrs.,..and we have a flat tire on 'my' piki piki!  Ramazani walked the village to look for a replacement inner tube for the piki tire.  We "Bazungu", (white people), slept on the ground under a big tree while we waited.  Kinda SURREAL,..as we were surrounded by local Africans,-kids & adults,-eager to see us.  The nap came slowly,..sent the crowd also cut off any breeze that may have been blowing...Ramazani found an inner tube SOMEWHERE,..(don't ask),...and fixed his rear tire.   So, we took off again on our last 42km to Station Katanti.

     The path we travelled was just barely a path, at all!  10 ft. jungle tight on both sides,..more mudpits/rivers/brackish waters,.......stop/go, more mud, more falling!!!   We pushed ahead, with our goal always in mind.

     Around 3:30-4:00pm we hit a stretch of path we used to call the "Katangila",...which I recognized right away.  This place was in a kind of clearing, and one could see it from my house ahead on Station Katanti.  As kids we used to watch this clearing to identify who might be coming to Station Katanti.  In later years, it was also used as an airstrip.  Now, however, it is overgrown with just a path to go on.......Most importantly, it meant we were only 2-3 miles from our destination!!

    Around 4-4:30pm we turned & climbed the hill to Station Katanti.  By now word of our coming had circulated,..and the path was lined with Africans,-singing, shouting our names,-and crying with joy!  I got goose bumps, the size of m&m's!   What a jubilant welcome we received!!!  We pulled up & stopped in front of "Jansen Hall", my African home for 10 years!  SaSimon, who had been an evangelist/teacher with my Dad all those years, was waiting with 50-75 people.  They had heard us coming,.....we dismounted our bikes,..and hugged/cried, hugged/cried, & SaSimon led in a prayer of thanks. They were so HAPPY to see Mantuku(Tom), Banuamazi(Rog), & Katarina(Kathy) again.  Words cannot express what was in their hearts & our hearts!!  They asked me to speak to the gathering, thru Tom's interpreting.  I greeted them for my parents, my brothers/sister, my own family, my church-CrossTimbers, Keller, TX, and gave them the few 'proverbs/sayings' I could remember in their own language, Kilega.  Such laughing & carrying on!!



My house, Jansen Hall, also a Dormitory for Missionaries' Kids School,  approx. 30 people.


     After the greetings, we were led into 'MY HOUSE',....a brick house with aluminum roofing, -built around 1950.  It IS still standing, but crumbling and falling apart.  4 Africans live in my house, as guards.  I wandered slowly from room to room downstairs,..taking pictures in each one.   I felt overwhelmed, and just let the memories flow over me,...........later taking my bag & backpack to what used to be the Pantry.  The Africans had made up a primitive platform with a bed under a mosquito net,..and a rickety shelf on the wall.  My "Home Away From Home!"   Tom/Kathy got the same things in a larger room we used to call the Guest Bedroom.   The dining room still has the same old wooden tables that were here in the '50's!  Wow!  We used to put the two tables end to end, and play ping pong on them,..when I was a kid. Now, here we were eating off these same tables!!!! 


     Next I walked slowly around outside, as it was getting on toward dark.  The front steps & porch were still there,..altho' crumbling.  (I decided to go upstairs to the second floor tomorrow).   Then, I walked around Station Katanti with Kathy and Elena,-SaSimon's daughter.  (SaSimon's wife is already deceased,..so his family lives with him in a different Mission house, which I saw as well).  "My" original mud/stick/thatch house from 1950 is gone,..and the jungle has taken over that place completely.  In fact, the only 2 houses still standing are the brick/tin ones.  The cement block schoolhouse I/we attended is still there,..but, the original church is gone,-burned and pillaged by soldiers more than once.  I found what used to be the carpentry shop, and the softball field we played on for all those years, too!  The Africans could not pronounce baseball,..so they called our game "Fay-ball!".  That is because they heard us yelling, "Fair Ball!";.......went down two trails where I used to go "Ku Bisindi",-ie to hunt squirrels in the jungle, back in the day.....

     OMG'sh,...what a JOY-FILLED day!  We sang a song with the Africans, prayed, & went to bed.  The first day back at my old house,..and getting to sleep in it, as well!!!!   I fell asleep dreaming of the old days,.....

     Rogers, Banuamazi

Rogers(Banuamazi on jungle trail "KuBisindi",..hunting squirrels

     P.S. I forgot, before leaving Station Katshungu that same morning I was sitting in a chair waiting for breakfast.  A scorpion ran out of the chair, down my arm,..and onto the floor.  Thank the Lord the scorpion didn't bite/sting me!  

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