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Nilla Bernanrdi, the Sisters and me Sister Josephine and Me R R e e f f l l e e c c t t i i o o n n s s F F r r o o m m A A f f r r i i c c a a Robert X. MacArthur IV October 14, 2007 As a preface to my story here is a bit of background information about where I was staying and what I was doing: Da Gama Home is a school for handicapped children (grades 1-12) based in the Copperbelt of Luanshya, Zambia and is run by the Franciscan Sisters of Assisi, a truly formidable force of women if you ask me. The school is actually serves as a base for several other programs the sisters run including a physical therapy center, a feeding center for malnourished children (commonly known as a nutrition center), a community school for orphans, a community-based rehabilitation center for the physically disabled and a farm with a huge banana plantation, vegetable garden, chicken coop and pig pen. Most of my time was spent visiting and working with these outreach programs instead of working at the school because the children were on holiday for the first two weeks of my visit. I stayed at the convent attached to the school with the Sisters and took part in their daily activities such as morning Mass, visiting the community schools, hospitals and nutrition centers, visiting shanty compounds (very poor villages), playing with children, and helping with a variety of chores (I loved washing the dishes and singing African hymns after meals with the Sisters). My purpose of coming to Africa was to experience first hand the people and their culture through an immersion/volunteer experience. I have always wanted to go to Africa and this passion further enflamed when I spent most of my last semester at SLU researching/writing on the influence of African music, dance and bodily gesture on liturgy and personal prayer for my theological studies thesis. After briefly talking about my dream to visit Africa with Fr. Wayne Hellmann, the head of the Theological Studies Dept at SLU, at a senior seminar presentation he recommended to contact a group of nuns he worked with in Zambia. One thing led to another and before I knew it I was on a plane to Zambia.

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Page 1: Reflections From Africa - assisisolidaleonlus.com From Africa.pdf · Reflections From Africa Robert X. MacArthur IV October 14, 2007 As a preface to my story here is a bit of background

Nilla Bernanrdi, the Sisters and me

Sister Josephine and Me

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OOccttoobbeerr 1144,, 22000077 As a preface to my story here is a bit of background information about where I was staying and what I was doing: Da Gama Home is a school for handicapped children (grades 1-12) based in the Copperbelt of Luanshya, Zambia and is run by the Franciscan Sisters of Assisi, a truly formidable force of women

if you ask me. The school is actually serves as a base for several other programs the sisters run including a physical therapy center, a feeding center for malnourished children (commonly known as a nutrition center), a community school for orphans, a community-based rehabilitation center for the physically disabled and a farm with a huge banana plantation, vegetable garden, chicken coop and pig pen. Most of my time was spent visiting and working with these outreach programs instead of working at the school because the children were on holiday for the first two weeks of my visit. I stayed at the convent attached to the school with the Sisters and took part in their daily activities such as morning Mass, visiting the community schools, hospitals and nutrition centers, visiting shanty

compounds (very poor villages), playing with children, and helping with a variety of chores (I loved washing the dishes and singing African hymns after meals with the Sisters). My purpose of coming to Africa was to experience first hand the people and their culture through an immersion/volunteer experience. I have always wanted to go to Africa and this passion further enflamed when I spent most of my last semester at SLU researching/writing on the influence of African music, dance and bodily gesture on liturgy and personal prayer for my theological studies thesis. After briefly talking about my dream to visit Africa with Fr. Wayne Hellmann, the head of the Theological Studies Dept at SLU, at a senior seminar presentation he recommended to contact a group of nuns he worked with in Zambia. One thing led to another and before I knew it I was on a plane to Zambia.

Page 2: Reflections From Africa - assisisolidaleonlus.com From Africa.pdf · Reflections From Africa Robert X. MacArthur IV October 14, 2007 As a preface to my story here is a bit of background

Journal Entries:

Aug 30th; 9:31PM Today has been quite emotional. For the first time I broke down from what I witnessed today. After breakfast and Mass I went with Mono and Kevin, two physiotherapists here at Da Gama, for house calls in the shanty compounds (very poor villages usually far out in the brush). I thought I was prepared to go on the house calls because of my time spent working with Dad right? Wrong!! We went to some pretty poor, beat-up homes that were way below normal living conditions. We went to five different houses to check on children with cerebral palsy. In the first house there was a 12 year old girl named Mavis. When her sister brought her into the front room it was as if she was carrying a bulky lump of chicken wire…the cerebral palsy had distorted Mavis’ body so much that she was curled into a human ball. We did a couple of different stretches with her to try and loosen up the muscle tension and then played a bit with a soccer ball. Mavis loved it! Her smile was worth a million dollars. Ok, the thing that really bothered me today was when we went to the fourth house to visit a 19 month old baby boy with cerebral palsy. At first I didn’t realize it because of the clothes that engulfed the child’s body, but the baby boy was severely malnourished. He was so malnourished that when his mother lifted him up his pants fell right down his little body. As we tested his reflexes I couldn’t get over how slowly he moved his body. I could see him clenching his little fingers in his hands as he painfully used every ounce in his body to lift his head up. I’ve never seen a live human being with every bone in their body that was clearly visible until today…I fear the image of this starving child will haunt me forever…

This child is living, no slowly dying, in a hell he cannot escape. I’m physically sick and soo confused… Why does this child have to suffer and not me? He has done nothing wrong yet is suffering so much, why? Why? WHY? What is so frustrating is most of these children would not have these life-debilitating diseases had the mothers had proper, up-to-date medical equipment during childbirth. So many diseases like cerebral palsy are caused during childbirth and can be prevented, Ahhhh! I’m angry…angry at the mother who looks healthy while her child is evidently starving, angry at God

for allowing this innocent child to starve to death. My understanding of theodicy is really being tested…

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Aug 30th; 10PM The sisters here at Da Gama are a huge source of support and comfort. I love being around them. They are all such strong and courageous women…and funny too. From the singing to the laughing to the humble piety…I just can’t get enough of it. I admire them greatly and hope to inhabit their formidable qualities one day.

Aug 31st; 5:36PM

The HIV/AIDS pandemic is an imminent reality in Zambia and the group that is suffering the most from this crisis is the orphans who parents have passed away. Most of the time these children are sent to live with their grandparents who are too old to take care of them and they are either badly malnourished or wind up

dying from starvation. Nutrition centers like the one at Da Gama have been established to provide one meal a day to these starving children. One meal! A typical meal consists of a pea-like soup and ishima (ground corn millet) which basically tastes like, well, nothing and is used to merely fill the belly and abate stomach pains.

I will never forget the time I went to the nutrition center in Walale, a small community about 15 minutes from Da Gama. Over 600 children showed up for their one and only meal of the day. I was completely blown away when I found out most if not all of these children were orphans that lived on the streets or with grandparents. Thank God Da Gama is at least able to provide something to these children…but, it’s not enough from my standpoint. I cannot believe I have carelessly assumed and demanded 3 square meals a day my whole life…when the children here are lucky to get one. And that’s only one the weekdays. On the weekends the nutrition center is not open and they have to fend for themselves or rely on their grandparents to provide a meal for the 7 to 11 children they are taking care of. Sister Rachel tells me that Mondays are always the worst days at the nutrition center and they make sure to load up the plates with ishima…

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Sept 4th; 5:15PM I have a deeply rooted passion for music and discovering/developing my spirituality. These two formidable mediums have been the strongholds and centering forces throughout my life…especially here in Africa. My iPod has been on Repeat playing “If You Want me To” for the past week now.

Every now and then I will switch to a showtune or African tribal music for a change of pace but the words of Ginny Owens seem to keep finding their way back through my earphones…

“The pathway is broken, The signs are unclear.

And I don’t know the reason Why You brought me here.

But just because You love me The way that You do.

I’m gonna walk through the valley If You want me to…”

Why am I here? Am I really in Africa? Is this all just a dream? I don’t know how many times I have pinched myself just for reassurance. You know, it’s always been a dream of mine to visit Africa, but honestly amidst the strong desire to see, live, and breathe Africa I never really could see my dream coming to fruition. Now that the dreaming is an actual reality, I am confused as to why exactly I was given this humbling opportunity…and at times I wish I could go back to my daydreaming. Reality is not pretty in Africa. It’s tough, dirty, and in-your-face. In the US “not pretty” is a person’s grass being too high in the neighborhood or not having time for that Starbuck’s latte before work. Everything in the states is so superficial and trivial compared to life here. Poverty, death and disease are everywhere. You don’t have to search for it, It finds you. At night when I am in my room at the convent, the images of children that look like more like fleshed out skeletons keep running across my mind. I try to think of something else but I can’t…they are screaming, begging for someone to help them and remove them from the hell they are living.

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Sept 4th; 5:45 PM Nilla Bernardi is one of the most amazing, fascinating, devout and loving people I have ever met. What a true blessing to run across her path. She is an Italian student working on her thesis on the international relations between the Zambian and Chinese governments, specifically focusing on the Chinese influence on the copper mines in Zambia. Her life long goal is to work as an ambassador for the United Nations…and she will make it. I know it. I am so thankful that I can go through this experience with her. She has already been to Zambia once before (last year) and did the same thing I am doing. Now she’s here for about 3 months working on research for her thesis. We talk often about grappling with life here in Zambia and how that fits into our understanding of the world. We have also had talks about religious life, relationships, God, theodicy, the list could go on. It’s so strange how similar we are. For example, we both have the same problem expressing our thoughts (and the language barrier doesn’t

help much), yet I understand her and what she is trying to convey perfectly!

Sept 6th; 6:50AM “I turn 24 today and I don’t know what I’m suppose to do with my one and only life. Lord, lead the way…” (my thoughts just before receiving communion this morning at Mass in the chapel with the Sisters).

Sept 10th; 12:57AM

I have been reading a lot of documents on Liberation Theology (Sr. Josephine wants me to give a presentation to the community about it). I never thought I would actually be “doing” theology here in Africa, much less lecturing to a group of nuns! I guess that extra year for the second major in theology is paying off! Gustavo Gutierrez bluntly states “to be poor is to be familiar with death.” I can’t get over how Death is so tangible here. I mean sure death is everywhere and people die

everyday all around the world, but here it is like humidity…you can feel it just lingering in the air, you can put your hand in it, you can feel it when you enter a room, especially at the hospitals. On the way to morning Mass Sr. Igetia explained as we passed the Lusaka hospital that hundreds of bodies, victims of the HIV/AIDS crisis, are carried to the cemeteries everyday. We passed by the cemetery…well, it kind of looked like a cemetery. The graves are nothing but heaps of dirt and only a

few have headstones. They are going to be expanding the cemetery soon; they better do it fast…they are quickly running out of space. Every time we go to the hospital or nutrition center or out to the brush there is an exodus of people either leaving or going to the cemetery…it’s as if the people

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have built into their daily routine a stop at the cemetery…“to be poor is to be familiar with death,” touché Gustavo, touché.

Sept 10th; 10:25PM What a blessing to have an education! I went to the Buntungwa nutrition center and community school today. While talking with Sr. Rachel at the nutrition center she explained that the number one thing that the poor need besides food is education. “Through education comes empowerment!” she exclaimed with ardent passion. “If people are educated they can empower themselves and create a future for their life.” It was interesting to hear her explain how food sustains life for days but education sustains for a lifetime. The government of Zambia helps pay for primary schooling (grades 1-8) but secondary school is very expensive and very few actually go on to high school and even less go on to college. Even with the supplements for primary school from the government many children still do not wind up going because they do not have the money for uniforms and school supplies.

While at Da Gama I spoke with one of the few children who can afford secondary school. Marilucha was a young girl of about 15 years. She was at the school inquiring if they had any left over books that she could borrow. She finished reading all her textbooks from the secondary school and was on a mission to find something, anything to read. She had the passion and desire to learn. I could just see it in her eyes. While I was working in Sr. Jospehine’s office I overheard her talking about the Second World War with Nilla. Although her knowledge about the subject was limited due to the amount of books she had at school her interest and enthusiasm on the topic was every teacher’s dream come true. She bombarded Nilla with question after question on the history of the war. She had the intellectual drive and curiosity to see beyond her scope of Zambia, and Africa for that matter, with which to understand and explore the world at large. I bought a book about globalization today…you know, I think I found the perfect book for Marilucha.

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Sept 12th; 5:30PM

Well, I’m leaving today. It’s pretty sad actually. I never thought I would get so attached in just 3 weeks. Honestly it feels like I’ve been here a lot longer. As I was pacing up and down the track in front of Sr. Josephine’s office I was thinking how lucky I am to have this opportunity and I know, just know that I will be back one day. Nilla gave me a very touching and powerful letter as I said goodbye at the airport. Part of it reads:

Don’t forget our discussions, our sharing of thoughts and emotions; don’t forget the negatives of Zambia but mainly remember the smiles, the voices, the eyes of the children you met…remember and

keep them all in your soul like a treasure…and then give voice to your soul and sing the suffering and the joy of the Zambians.

God Bless you. Good Luck

Nilla

******************Reflections Back in the States*******************

September 17th; 16:15 I feel so unsettled. I want to act but I don’t have a clue what to do. Praying feels like I am just wasting time…I know there’s something more than this. I know there is, I know there is…Maybe I’m just afraid to step up to the challenge and actually do something…maybe I lack the courage. I lack true gumption. Why, I don’t know. It’s like I can see an object that I want right in front of me and there is a thin piece of glass separating us; I stop reaching for the object at the sight of the glass…I get depressed, lazy, cynical, disheartened, and tired at the thought of having to act and do something to get through the glass…

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September 17th; 3:23PM I would like to share my stories and pictures, no I have the obligation to tell the stories and show the pictures. As Kevin Carter, the famous Pulitzer Prize laureate for photojournalism said, “…we need to think of photographs as things which provoke us to take action, to make us think about the broader context in which the photograph was taken, and to truly understand its benefit.” So, keeping true to my obligation here’s one of my favorite pictures. It’s a picture of the orphans at Walale nutrition center. Ironically, I didn’t even take this picture. Chulu, one of the gatekeepers at Da Gama took this picture and I ran across it as I was downloading pictures for Sr. Josephine.

I have this picture as my background on my computer. It is an important yet uncomfortable reminder for me to know that I am not here on this planet for simply myself and that my “problems” here in the states are so petty and trivial compared to the life of the third world. Every time I turn on my computer I look into those eyes…as I stare into this sea of orphaned faces I wonder what those children are doing…are they going to bed hungry? Where did they sleep? What are their dreams and aspirations? What will happen to them in 2, 3 or 5 years? You know there’s the saying “A picture is worth a thousand words” well, a picture with hundreds of little faces and thousands of dark eyes staring, peering into my very soul is priceless. No words are needed…I simply nod my head and know by the dictates of my conscience that I will no, I must do something.

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This picture speaks for itself. Here’s another picture that I took from a billboard in Lusaka, Zambia. This is by far the best advertisement I have ever seen. I saw this ad everywhere and there is just something about it that truly resonates with me. “Listen With Your Soul.” You know if you listen with your soul instead of your mind you’ll be amazed what you will hear… September 18th; 10:53AM It is with a saddened heart I confess that I have little faith in my fellow countrymen…they’re too worried about their jobs, their TV shows, their war(s). I can’t blame them I was, still am at times, one of them in a way…but not anymore…there comes a point in every person’s life when something breaks and in the midst of all the fears and insanity somewhere a voice inside cries out ENOUGH! “I have realized that it's time to stop hoping and waiting for something to change or for happiness, safety and security to come galloping over the next horizon. I have learned that there is power in creating and contributing…enough of merely maneuvering through life as a "consumer" looking for my next fix. I think there is a fear instilled in Americans from living in the US consumerist, cut-throat, survival of the fittest like society which paralyzes us into this type of lifestyle”…well I’m saying ENOUGH!

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September 29th; 10:18AM Sister Josephine introduced me to a program she set up called “Adoptions from Afar.” It is a program for orphans who do not have money for school or food. Through her system she finds people interested in sponsoring these children financially (~$10/month) and then she sends them updates on how the children are doing. I “adopted” a child. His name is Jackson Nynjma (sp??). He’s 10 yrs old and the second oldest out of 6 children. He lives with his grandmother and wants to go to school so he can eventually get a job to then help his grandmother support his younger brothers and sisters.

********************************************************************************* Well, this was just a small sample of my powerful yet humbling experience in Africa. If you have any questions, are interested in the “Adoptions from Afar” program, or if you just want to talk more in depth please write or call. I would love to hear from you! Cibote, Robert Once again, here’s my new cell phone number. Please call soon and often! (707) 330-4032