Radical Womanhood

'Of Course!'

Wherever I have gone in Addis Ababa, I have been asked if I like the city. I do! There's a crazy, frenetic energy to Addis (especially the way traffic flows here), but there's also a genuine warmth. People will meet your eyes and greet you in a way that doesn't happen in the cell-phone-gabbing, self-absorbed atmosphere back home. Some of the people I am traveling with were in Addis five years ago, and they can't believe how much the city has grown since then. I am told it is the fastest-growing economy in Africa that's not based on oil.

The guys on the video crew have learned a number of Amharic words (the language that is spoken here), but I've only mastered "e'shi," which means "okay." However, we have grown fond of the Ethiopian way of answering in the positive during a conversation in English -- "Of course!" You have to say it with a rising inflection and draw it out a bit to say it like they do here.

When we were shooting in the Somali neighborhood I mentioned in the previous post, I encountered the little girl standing in the photo on the top left. She had an obvious eye infection (which isn't easy to see in this photo). Her left eye was practically closed. So we prayed for her, asking God to heal her. Some of the people here literally have nothing. Getting enough to eat is the big order of the day. Medical care is beyond their reach. So poor Christians must pray for healing and not look to any doctor to help them. As a result, their faith is often rewarded with amazing accounts of healing. I felt so helpless to offer this little girl any medical relief, but I could offer something far more significant by praying for her.

What's surprising to me is how much joy and happiness exists even in these deprived conditions. The little girl standing with Drew, John David, and David in the picture top right hung around as much as possible. She always smiled her shy little smile while invading our personal space. It's hard to walk away from such appeal. Seeing the kids in poverty is hard. You just want to scoop them up and take them all home. No wonder we keep seeing so many couples with their newly adopted Ethiopian children in our hotel.

Yesterday, we interviewed pastors Mo Adugna and Wondy Getahun in the Entoto Mountains overlooking Addis. It's hard to see in this photo, but the city is sprawling in the distance behind them. We were surrounded by eucalyptus trees. I don't think I've ever seen a live tree--just the dried ones among home decor collections. The live ones are fairly redolent, too.

In the afternoon we did some shooting on the street, which attracted a number of hopeful people who thought we might be able to give them lots of money because of our camera. I was concentrating on my shot list when I heard John David and Andrew say goodbye to someone.Then I saw John David pull the shirt off his back and give it to his new friend, who smiled broadly and clutched his new treasure to his chest. The guys on the crew have been incredible about reaching out to people here, spending time with them and giving them little gifts. They spent their first day in Addis befriending a group of young boys and ended up buying shoes for them. Now every time we pull into the hotel parking lot, these kids appear as if out of the mist, running and waving, eager to catch the attention of the guys in our van.

There's so much more to say, but few words flow at a late hour. We've got several more days in Addis, so I hope I can post more photos before we go.

Update: The comments function is open, though it may take me awhile to moderate and publish them.

AH-dees AH-ba-ba

When we landed Friday night in Addis Ababa, we had narrowly missed being caught in a civil war. Our flight had landed earlier that afternoon for a refueling stop in Khartoum, Sudan. I had hoped to get off the plane and take a picture of my feet on Sudanese soil, for I figured I would never get a chance to go back. Instead, we were warned to stay in our seats and not take any photographs.

The next day, Darfur rebels attacked Khartoum and the airport (and air traffic control) were closed, taken over by the Sudanese military. Suddenly the airspace over this vast nation was also unavailable to passing commercial flights. We knew nothing of this until we received an email from Doug Hayes, executive director of Covenant Mercies, who was flying to Addis to meet us for a video interview. His plane had been held in Amman, Jordan, until further notice.

Ignorant of this problem, we found that our first reaction to Addis upon arrival was dizziness and confusion. Addis Ababa sits at about 8000 feet--high enough to notice the thin air when you land or try to move quickly. Thus, the dizziness. The confusion came about when the Ethiopian Customs agents politely refused entry to our video cameras. We needed to obtain a special permit from the Ministry of Information to bring in our gear and there would be a small fee. Of course, this office wouldn't be open until Monday, so without our cameras, we enjoyed a restful weekend. All the needed paperwork was processed smoothly on Monday morning, however. By Tuesday, we had everyone and everything we needed to proceed with our filming.

We spent Tuesday with Doug and Aman, a pastor at our church here in Addis, Covenant Life Church. Aman coordinates the child sponsorship program that the church runs in conjunction with Covenant Mercies. We visited a poor neighborhood composed mostly of Muslim Somali refugees, where more than a dozen children are currently sponsored. (The older girl in the picture at left is one of the children in Covenant Mercies' program.) I think we met nearly every person in the neighborhood--our cameras always draw a curious crowd here. In general, people are very respectful. It's polite to acknowledge everyone you meet with a small bow. Close male friends will bump chests three times and close female or male-female friends or family will air kiss each other three times in a left-right-left pattern.

I have so many other observations about Addis (I believe the correct pronounciation is what's shown in the title), but the photos are taking a long time to upload, so I'll call it quits for now. Lord willing, more photos will be added in the near future.

Photos: Khartoum as seen from the airplane; a view of Addis taken from the Ministry of Information; a family of a child sponsored by Covenant Mercies (mother, toddler, sponsored child, and grandmother).

Ministering in the Land of the Reformation

We've just concluded our last day in Germany. Today we went from the city of Hamburgers to the city of Frankfurters. I kid you not. We saw the signs and we laughed. (We are rather easily amused. And speaking of amused, check out this rollerskate of a car. It is the perfect urban vehicle. Why parallel park when you can perpendicular park?!)

I really like Hamburg. It wasn't anything like I expected. When I arrived, I read it was the Venice of Germany--and with the port, lakes, and canal system, I can understand why. There is a lot of waterfront acreage there! Hamburg is in the top ten of my favorite cities. (It might rank higher if I spoke German, but that's my issue and not Hamburg's.) God gave us glorious weather. Everyone kept saying it's not like Germany. We were quite grateful.

Our host, Wolfgang Wegert, was excellent company, as well. He must be an incredibly busy senior pastor, but he was so genial--it seemed like he had all the time in the world for us. One night he took us out for a steak dinner and the waitress stopped him to say hi. We later found out it was because of his TV show. His Sunday sermons from the Arche church are seen throughout Germany and into other parts of Europe, reaching somewhere between 50,000 to 100,000 people each week. He gave us an incredible interview in English, so I can only imagine how powerful he is while preaching in German.

This weekend, Arche church is hosting a Bible exposition, the largest of its kind in Europe. I was able to see a bit of it while it was being set up. Incredible! I saw one of the original clay jars that held the Dead Sea Scrolls and a Bible from the early 1500s, from the time of Martin Luther. I wish I could have seen the rest of the displays.

Tonight we flew into Frankfurt, in order to connect here and fly out to Addis Ababa in the morning. We saw a little bit of the historic town center tonight and the commercial district on the way into town.

During dinner, we had a serious conversation about what we were learning during our personal devotions and other small group-style spiritual fellowship. Our earnest conversation caught the attention of four businessmen at the next table. One was an evolutionary biologist from the U.K. and a huge Richard Dawkins fan. His other colleagues were from the Netherlands, Poland, and Scotland. They were stunned to hear young men so passionate about God and the Bible and couldn't help but interrupt us to talk about it. The biologist was alternately intrigued and irritated. He couldn't wrap his mind around the fact that we actually believed in God. But he was not the least bit rude. In fact, we were honored by his persistent interest in us. The guys did a great job of presenting the gospel and drawing attention to God's Word. We left that restaurant rejoicing in the opportunity God gave us, and eager to pray for these men. It was, however, a sober reminder of how much of a culture gap exists in Europe when Bible-believing Christians are such a novelty.

(Photos: On location in Hamburg; a popular urban car in Hamburg; Wolfgang Wegert with one of the Dead Sea Scroll containers; a Bible dating from the early 1500s.)

Touring Hamburg

We spent the day capturing footage of Hamburg and its residents. This really is an attractive city. We are slowly adapting to the culture, too--learning a bit of what's on our menus in German and how to read the parking signs. By the time we have to leave, I figure we will have learned enough to cease being a public menace.

This is a small collection of snapshots I took while we were shooting today.

The top photo is the Rathausmarkt, which is the Hamburg City Hall and the plaza in front of it.

The second photo is of a restaurant on the Deichstrasse, one of the oldest streets in Hamburg. It dates from the 1300s, but most of the original buildings were destroyed in a 19th-century fire. So these are largely the reconstructed buildings. But they are still quite attractive. The third photo is the collection of Deichstrasse buildings that face the canal.

The next two photos are from the tower of the St. Michaelis Church. We went up there to shoot the city skyline in the late afternoon sunlight. One photo is of John David Maresco, enjoying the view. John David is the newest member of our team and may well be the hardest worker. He cheerfully carries all of our heavy gear--and my bag, too. All of the men on the team are gentlemen, but John David never lets me slide into being "just one of the guys."  How encouraging it is to receive this gentlemanly courtesy!

The last photo is of the Hamburg skyline, facing the Aussenalster Lake, which in this beautiful weather is dotted with sailboats.

It's all "sehr gut" (very good) as far as we are concerned!

Hamming It Up in Hamburg

Maybe it's the jet lag, but we've laughed a great deal since we arrived in Hamburg on Friday. Of course, we've been working the whole time but we've certainly found a lot to amuse us.

I think it started with our rental car. First, it should be noted that Germans have a keen sense of design in everything. We were duly impressed with the lighting, color scheme and overall space design of the rental car counters at the Hamburg airport. That was the first clue we weren't in Kansas anymore, so to speak. The second rude shock was the realization that none of us could speak German--quite unhelpful when you are trying to read road signs. Eventually, hard-won experience taught us the words for key concepts such as "one way" and "exit." But the first ten minutes in the rental car were the longest we've yet to experience in Germany--and we hadn't even left the rental car lot. I think my nonstop giggling made it seem even longer because we honestly couldn't communicate with anyone. It's amazing that companies will just hand you the keys to an expensive vehicle and wave bye-bye to you without even the most rudimentary explanation of traffic signs and laws. But praise God for GPS devices! I have no idea how I ever managed international travel before they were invented.

We are here in Hamburg to interview Wolfgang Wegert, senior pastor of the Arche Church, a Sovereign Grace Ministries associate church. He is a fascinating interview subject. He tells stories with such alacrity and wit. We already interviewed his son, Christian, who is a student at the Sovereign Grace Ministries Pastors College this year, and Christian's wife, Verena, before we left Gaithersburg. Wolfgang has a fascinating personal history that spans World War II, the Cold War, the fall of the Berlin Wall, and the reunification of Germany. He has been a pastor for more than 45 years. We interviewed Wolfgang on Saturday and then filmed the Sunday meeting at Arche church. Afterward, we joined Wolfgang's family for a cookout.

On Monday we will be shooting around the city. I am looking forward to seeing more of Hamburg. It blends both modern design and historical facades in its architecture. One of our favorite places so far was an organic restaurant featuring "bio food." It was like eating Whole Foods cuisine in an Apple Store designed by a Helvetica fan. (Shout out here to Matt Wahl, SGM's creative designer: This place screamed you! It's what we all thought as soon as we walked in.) My picture doesn't do it any justice, but I've never seen a restaurant with this much attention to design detail in the decor (menus, placemats, napkins, wall art, furniture). And major props to Hamburg restaurants--so far, they have all been far quieter than their D.C. counterparts!

(Top left: Silliness in a self-portrait. Top right: The film crew poses for their new CD cover--Drew Painter, Andrew Gallo, David Altrogge, and John David Maresco. Middle: Arche Church. Bottom right: Gertrude and Wolfgang Wegert. Bottom left: The bio restaurant.)

Camden, Maine

I spent a week in a writing workshop; therefore, I have no more descriptive words left. Here are some photos, instead.

Photo captions from top:
- Camden harbor.
- Peak foliage!
- As seen at crosswalks...It's still a mystery to me.
- I have no idea what kind of restaurant this is.
- The city of Camden as seen from Mt. Battie.
- On Camden's Elm Street.
- Chestnut Street Baptist Church. If memory serves, the sign said the church was organized in 1808 and the building was constructed in 1817. I visited yesterday and was delighted to discover a warm atmosphere, a Bible-based sermon, and God-honoring praise and worship songs.
- The Hartstone Inn--simply stellar!
- It doesn't feel like work with a view like this!

Noise, Distraction, and the Test of Prosperity

There was one sound we did not hear while traveling in Bolivia last month. We did not hear it for two weeks--not until we returned to the U.S. and got off the plane in Miami.

It was the sound of a petulant child, whining and crying in anger.

There was another sound we did not hear while traveling in Bolivia last month. It was the omnipresent soundtrack that accompanies the errands of our lives--pop music and canned announcements that blare from grocery stores, gas pumps, and shopping malls.

Then there was a third sound missing from the noise barrage in our lives: the irritable voice of complaint.

I've been thinking about this since we returned, but yesterday's article in The Washington Post, "Noise Pollution Takes Toll on Health and Happiness," raised a good point. This piece states that "study after study has found that community noise is interrupting our sleep, interfering with our children's learning, suppressing our immune systems and even increasing -- albeit just a little -- our chances of having a heart attack. It is also tarnishing the Golden Rule, reducing people's inclination to help one another."

Our very affluence here allows us to be noisy. We live within a din of machine noise, from leaf blowers to thumping car stereos that can be heard (and felt) three blocks away. Add to that the music and sales propaganda in retail areas--not to mention the noise we choose from our own iPods and TVs--and you've got the proverbial frog-in-boiling-water scenario. We've grown so used to it that we don't feel the warning signs.

In rural Bolivia (noisy La Paz was another story), the only music we heard was the music we made. It seemed everyone had a guitar. Singing to each other was a way of building friendships and providing entertainment. Everyone, adults and children alike, seemed a lot more patient. I was amazed by the children who amused themselves quietly in a corner for many hours while their parents were given theological instruction. They didn't demand constant attention nor did they bicker among themselves as soon as their parents looked away.

But as soon as we returned home, the tenor of life changed. Not even a day later, I was subject to a loud conversation in which a dissatisfied customer was bragging about what a bigwig he was and complaining about how he should receive better service--or else. (Of course, if you have to announce you're a player, you're probably not.) It didn't take any effort to overhear the general dissatisfaction of the people around me in any given scenario--especially if I was also part of it.

C.J. Mahaney has often spoken about the test of prosperity. The crescendo of self-centered complaining, loud noise, and retail soundtracks is the evidence that our culture is not passing this test. Our very prosperity seemingly increases the dissastisfaction ratio--and stresses our immune systems. The more we have, the more we find to complain about.

I'm not ready to assimilate again. I miss the slower, more relational pace of life in Bolivia. Instead of filling our spare time with some form of media, we talked to each other. We prayed together. We sang to each other. Though I am happy to have toilets, hot showers, and central heat once again, it seems some of these things come with a price that I had not discerned before.

(Photo: Andrew Gallo with some of the worship team from the Weenhayek church in southern Bolivia.)

Into Thin Air: La Paz

I've been told that it takes three days to acclimate to the thin air of La Paz. So just as we began to acclimate, we had to depart. After a week in the more remote, southern region of Bolivia, it was a a whirlwind three-and-a-half days in the world's highest capital city. Though La Paz sits at about 11,800 feet, the international airport is in the next town of El Alto, which is at 13,600 feet. We were dizzy and disoriented when we landed, but for the most part the effects of the high altitude passed in a few hours.

La Paz sits in a bowl, surrounded by mountains. This big city blasts a cacophony of car horns and bus drivers yelling out destinations and fares, as cars and people simultaneously navigate the chaos of the streets. (New York cannot compare.) Andean women, called cholitas, trundle along the streets in their colorful native garb carrying loads on their backs, mingling with businessmen, students, and street vendors. A few blocks from the tourist shops in the downtown area are the disturbing kiosks of the witches' market, where idols, llama fetuses, and other Andean religious items are for sale.

We spent most of our time getting footage of the city and interviewing pastors Johnny Dueri and Jorge del Castillo. I also had the privilege of speaking to the women of the La Paz church on Wednesday evening. It was my second time to be translated during a message and I think the Q&A session afterward really gave the translator a lot of work!

On our last day, we rose at 5:00 a.m. to head to El Alto to tape the sunrise over Mount Illimani and the city below. For two hours, we talked, prayed, and Andrew read Scripture to us as the cameras caught the time-lapse effect of the winter sunrise. The sacrifice of sleep was worth it to experience the fellowship. At the beginning of the trip, David had told us he hoped to be able to share the gospel during our travels—and he was faithful to do so nearly everywhere we went. So when a cholita stuck her head out of her shop window as we taped, David immediately seized the opportunity to tell her the good news of Jesus Christ.

The Lord has been very good to us on this trip and we return with renewed gratitude for all He has given us both in this experience and in the blessings of our homes and churches.

(Photos: La Paz as seen from El Alto with the 21,000-foot Mount Illimani rising above it; a cholita with her bundle on the street; Andrew reading Scripture to us as we watch the sun rise.)

Dust and Diesel: The Village Outreach

The second leg of our Bolivia journey began last Friday as we left Entre Rios and headed east to visit various churches among the remote indigenous tribes between Villamontes and the Pilcomayo River. We spent many hours on dirt roads, driving long distances between villages. We took with us two pastors who serve churches in this region--Miguel and Gito. Gito was especially helpful as he could speak several local languages and he didn't mind clinging to the outside of the Range Rover (eating dust and braving thorn bushes) whenever someone local needed to ride with us. These two men were incredible servants of the Lord and their joy was a godly provocation to us.

Along the way to Villamontes, we visited with a Guarani woman and had lunch at her home. The next morning, we had a fresh fish breakfast in the fishing town of Villamontes. We pulled up to a roadside fisherman, made our selections and watched them grill it right in front of us. I have to admit I've never eaten fish without plastic wrap and a sell-by date, so this was a novel experience for me. After breakfast, we drove to a Guarani village where we met with the local pastor and gave him a guitar. From there, the roads got narrower and far less traveled. At one point, as we stopped for a "bush break," Andrew spotted a snake, which he began to videotape. Unknowingly, he was within a few feet of one of the deadliest creatures out there, the coral snake. But God was merciful and the snake slithered away after making its camera debut.

On Saturday night, we arrived in the village of Creveaux to visit with a Weenhayek church. They were assembled in the church building, illuminated by only one propane gas torch. We videotaped their singing and speaking with our flashlights--which worked surprisingly well until the batteries died. We camped in their village and stayed for the Sunday morning meeting, during which Johnny Dueri spoke and was translated from Spanish to the Weenhayek language. Naturally, I had no idea what was going on during most of the meeting. But at the close of the meeting, they sang us a song goodbye and then each member of the congregation came up to personally greet us. It was a touching time.

Sunday afternoon, we headed to the Pilcomayo River to meet with members of the Tapiete tribe who camp on the banks of the river during the temperate winter months. We waded across most of the river and finished by canoe. Before we left for Bolivia, I had read online that the Pilcomayo was now home to piranha fish from the Amazon basin--a fact we avidly discussed as we sloshed our way through the muddy river bed. We didn't see any piranha but we did have another fresh fish meal for lunch. 

This time with the Tapiete tribe was especially poignant because the leader was a Christian who had faltered in his faith because he felt slighted by some previous missionaries who didn't support him as he expected. Pepe drew him out about this, prayed for him, and then preached the gospel to those assembled. It was a real turning point for this man, who then decided he would return to the faith and bring his tribe with him. This is not a large group of people. The estimates vary, but Pepe told us that there may be fewer than 100 people left--it is a people group on the verge of extinction. After praying, Johnny then presented him with a copy of Bible Doctrine in Spanish. I was amazed to think that there was a direct connection with my home church and this tribe--a book edited by one of my colleagues (Jeff Purswell, who distilled Wayne Grudem's Systematic Theology for this publication) and subsequently translated into Spanish would now support a small church in a remote corner of Bolivia. This Tapiete leader said he would like to build a church facility in their village, and Johnny and Jorge committed their church in La Paz to underwrite this effort.

Our visits to these churches were brief, but the pastors were effusive in their gratitude for our interest and support. As we took our leave from the Tapiete tribe, the leader begged us not to forget them and to pray for them. His countenance was completely different from when we first arrived--hope made him radiant.

The next day, we drove to Santa Cruz to catch a flight to La Paz, where we've been since Monday evening. We return home later tonight, Lord willing. Perhaps I will be able to squeeze in the final installment, our La Paz experience, before we take off. If not, look for it soon. And if you would, please pray for the gospel to go forth in these regions.

(Photos: Eating chicken soup at the home of a Guarani believer; David with our breakfast in Villamontes; David and Andrew after surviving the coral snake debut; Johnny and Jorge with the Weenhayek worship team; singing at the Pilcomayo River; Johnny presents Bible Doctrine to the Tapiete tribe; Pat and Esteban at the Pilcomayo at sunset.)

Warm Hearts, Cold Showers: Entre Rios, Bolivia

Twenty-four hours and four flights later (DC to Miami, Miami to La Paz, La Paz to Santa Cruz, Santa Cruz to Tarija), we arrived in Bolivia last Tuesday for the final leg of this year's mission video location shoots. Our luggage was daunting even by American standards, but we loaded it up on a Range Rover and headed out from Tarija to Entre Rios. Our host was Jose Luis (Pepe) Carrasco, a pastor who had been sent out from the Sovereign Grace Ministries church in La Paz to start a church in the small town of Entre Rios in the south of Bolivia.

An international red-eye flight with four connections cannot compare, however, with the jarring three-hour ride on the dirt road to Entre Rios. Since we couldn't fit all of our video gear, luggage, and bodies in the Range Rover, some of us took a cab with a driver who honked incessantly as he slid around the hairpin curves on this rocky road. Despite some of these eyebrow-raising maneuvers, we arrived safely in Entre Rios where we were hosted by Pepe and his family at the mission center he built next to his home. In addition to the video crew (Andrew Gallo, David Altrogge, and Pat Santavenere), I was also traveling with Johnny Dueri and Jorge del Castillo, two of our pastors from the La Paz church, and Jorge's son, Esteban, who was our translator. Johnny and Jorge were there to teach a seminar to the pastors of rural churches that Pepe serves in the Entre Rios region. They spent two days teaching through the book of Romans while we taped footage in Entre Rios and the surrounding areas.

Visiting this region can be challenging for comfort-loving Americans. Entre Rios at this time of year is damp and chilly. But since it is hot most of the time, the locals just bundle up when it gets colder. No one has heat or even a fireplace, and the practice of leaving the doors and windows open remains. Hot showers are a foreign luxury. But living the unplugged life has immense charms. No longer tethered by cell phones, PDAs, blackberries, or email, we relaxed by spending our evenings in song. Music is a tradition in this region and it seems nearly everyone has been blessed with strong voices and innate musical talent. On our last evening in Entre Rios, we were joined by a mission team with members from Uruguay, Chile, Argentina, and the Dominican Republic so our musicale had a solid international flavor.

I also had the opportunity to meet Bolivia's first missionary to a certain closed nation in the 10/40 window. (For her safety, I cannot mention any identifying details.) She served heroically in this nation for three years as a single woman teaching other women through an NGO organization. These women were typically married at menarche through an arrangement by their families. Many endured harsh treatments by their husbands, so the concept of God describing Himself as a husband to His people was repellent to them. Though this missionary could not mention Jesus to them, she could talk about God and could answer questions about her testimony if she was asked directly. The women there always asked this missionary why she didn’t have a husband and why she had to be there alone. It was hard for her to be single in this nation, but this missionary said that after being there, she understood the word “comfort” in a special way. Her "mission verse," so to speak, was from 2 Corinthians 1:3-7 to comfort others with the comfort she had received from God. It was fascinating to meet her and see her photos during our stay in Entre Rios.

After three days there, we loaded up the Range Rover and a borrowed Land Rover and hit the road again. More to come...

(Photos from top: David Altrogge amid all the luggage on the way to the airport; David, me, Andrew, and Pat about to board our first flight; the Range Rover donated to Pepe by Sovereign Grace a few years ago and now loaded down with our gear; Entre Rios street scene; the plaza in Entre Rios; a school boy in the region with the typical footwear and mode of transportation; the Carrascos.)