Day 2

Awake at 4:30 am for breakfast after about one hour of sleep for Jonathan, zero hours for Kelly. A cocktail of noisy neighbors, fighting dogs, airplanes, and general over-stimulation kept us both up most of the night. Coffee, awesome samosas, oranges, and we were on our way to Lake Kivu, in the dark, in a crowded bus. The plan was a ride a small boat to Iwawa, a small island in the middle of the lake where what Americans might called "at risk youth," young men specifically, are sent to learn job skills and personal development so they can be put back into Rwandan society in hopes that they won't return to crime.

After about three hours of cruising the most gorgeous mountain countryside on the planet (fact, not opinion), we arrived at the north shore of Lake Kivu.

*Jonathan's side note- I seriously considered wandering into the bush and becoming a farmer just to enjoy the view. I had moments of inner illumination that I can't describe easily, but it stuck a deep chord in me to see such profound beauty. The mountains, volcanoes, the plants, the people and their seemingly simple ways, it all just drew me in and for a minute there, I didn't want to leave at all.

We arrived at the beach where after a very interesting and adventurous women's pit stop, we would board our boat and much to our dismay, we were going to need a bigger boat. The boat was narrow, wooden, and long enough to hold about 40 people, but it was old and leaking. Speaking of leaking, many had full bladders from breakfast and the subsequent roller coaster ride through the mountains. After taking care of that ( see kelly for more details on this adventure), we boarded the boat and shoved off. About 30 passengers, 3 crew members, and one engine to travel to the center of one of the largest lakes in Africa. About 15 minutes into the journey, we heard a scrape-splash sound as one of the crew members started bailing water out of the boat. it was filling more quickly than the confines of our comfort zone, but after he began bailing for the third time, it stopped bothering us.

What did bother us was the size of the waves on the lake. The boat was old and flopped like a wet noodle on the lake surface. The reason we had to leave so early was because the boat operators know what time the waves get too choppy for the boat and apparently we got there a little too late to avoid wave rush hour. We prayed for a miracle or at least direction, the waves did not calm down and no one volunteered to be the first to walk to the island on top of the water, so we turned back after about an hour of traversing the lake.

* side note the sermon the day before was Matthew 14:22-33 where Peter walks on the water with Jesus. This is the perfect sermon for what we were about to face. We too were in scary waves and looking down on them in fear. What I hadn't realized until this sermon is Jesus doesn't immediately stop the storm. In fact Peter walks out to meet Jesus DURING the storm. Jesus mearly says Don't be afraid I am here. Also going on at the begging of this story what I always saw as a transition, i found out had more meaning. This story backs up to the feeding of the 5000. So this great miracle happens and then "²² Immediately Jesus made the disciples get into the boat and go on ahead of him to the other side, while he dismissed the crowd." and guess what Jesus doesn't go with them and they enter this scary storm. So they go from a happy place into a trial. That don't get to linger in that happy place for very long do they? So we sit in this leaking boat on Lake Kivu praying and trusting God's plan... instead of looking down on the crashing waves. Believing God has something else in store and in a sense walking with Him during this storm.

What happens next?

We were bummed that we did not make it to the island, but we landed at a different beach and met some kids that just come out of school. A girl named Diane was very intrigued with Kelly's (my wife) tattoos, so Kelly made some connections with them with that and her general warmth. We at some packed lunches and made a plan B to visit Land of a Thousand Coffees! Oddly enough, LTHC originated in Atlanta and we just visited there. I have been talking to them about working with them through their coffee initiatives and bicycles for coffee growers and our plans changed to include that without my prompting. This truly is the work of our Lord!

On the way, we found difficulty finding a bathroom. We stopped at a gas station in a small town and it became quite an event. The locals saw a group of muzungus roll in and kids appeared from all around. As we others waited in line to use the latrine (a cement outhouse with a hole in the ground), I started gathering trash from the van to throw out. We had accumulated bottles and aluminum trays from lunch so I carried them out to find a trash can. A local boy came and collected them for me. I thought he was just being helpful but then he ran back to a group of boys who started digging through the trays looking for scraps of food. Some of them began pushing each other around trying to take on another's food. My plan to responsibly dispose of the trash backfired and it put a damper on my excitement for the day.

We cut out bathroom break shortbecause the taxi motorcycle drivers started gathering around us and it started getting weird. we kept driving through the mountains and found a spot on the side of a mountain to stop and pee. I can honestly say that I stopped in the most beautiful places I have ever seen and peed there. Some african children spotted us and started gathering around these strange white people. One of our team approached one of the boys and asked him his name. "give me money" was his reply. kids learn early on that muzungus are a great source of money. we were told not to hand out cash to children because they are all supposed to be in school. getting cash is such a rare occasion for these kids that they celebrate by skipping school the next day, which of course is the worst possible thing for them.

We found the entrance to where the farmers are and started barreling down the dirt roads past the farmers' houses. I am not sure of the exact nature of the situation, but I think the whole area we explored is part of a cooperative of farmers who grow a variety of crops. We skidded down mile after mile of narrow, rutted roads with sheer forest drop-offs and switchbacks and roads that were clearly meant to be traveled by foot, motorcycle, bicycle, or four-wheel drive vehicle, not a bus with 20 people in it. Since we didn't seem calmed waves or walk on water, I suppose that not getting stuck, getting a flat, or rolling off the mountain was our daily ration of miraculous events.

LTHC facilitates selling the coffee and gets the farmers a fair price. I ate a fresh coffee cherry and we received a tour of the coffee washing facility. The drive back to a paved road was dark, bumpy, and would have been terrifying if we were not so tired. It took at least an hour to get out but I think that every farmer in the region saw us and waved at some point.