Ndruna Service for Mobilization

The Ndruna New Testament has been translated and is set to be published next year! In May, our colleague Dr. Bagamba led a service at a local church, using the Ndruna language and Scriptures, to help get people excited about receiving - and using - the New Testament. They also hope to continue with the Old Testament, which will require much support from the Ndruna people.

Veteran translator shows his true feelings for the Ndruna Scriptures, before breaking into song.

The service opened with Mr. Avuta Mboudhu, who has worked his whole life translating the New Testament and hymns into Ndruna, his mother tongue. He read a passage of the translated New Testament. You can see in the photo above how excited he was, and the congregation cheered. Then he started a Ndruna praise song, and the whole room jumped to their feet to sing along, clap and dance. (**See an update at the end.)     

Goma update - December 2014 (by Jennings)

A few highlights from my latest trip to Goma, to check Hebrews with the Tembo team.

The Nyanga delegation, including one of the original translators (far right)

When a "literal" translation is not accurate (from Jennings in Goma)

In Scripture translation, we're aiming at four goals, which are sometimes in tension. We want the translation to be: 1) accurate, 2) clear and easy to understand, 3) natural-sounding rather than stilted or "foreign" and 4) acceptable to users (especially the local church leaders).

Of these, my first responsibility as a consultant is to try to ensure accuracy. If the translation don't reflect the meaning of the original text, then it doesn't matter how clear or natural it is, it isn't a good translation. So I need to be sure that nothing has been added, omitted or changed.

But accurate is not the same as literal. Sometimes a translation can be very literal -- even word-for-word -- and yet be completely inaccurate. That's because meaning doesn't just come from the text, from the words. It comes from the text plus the context: the linguistic, cultural and historical context of the original language and how it fits -- or doesn't fit -- with the context of the target language.

Take a Picture, It'll Last Longer (by Jennings)

One of the hardest things for me to adjust to in Congo is the sense of being stared at, almost constantly, when I'm in public. I am particularly self-conscious, so I probably struggle with this more than others. But it also has to do with differences in what is culturally acceptable, and what gazing at someone communicates. So I've been thinking about this, and here are a few observations:

Sense to come in out of the rain (by Jennings)

Last Tuesday I was at the office, about a 5-minute walk from our house. I was ready to go home, but it had started raining. When I stepped out on the office veranda to check things out, Alphonse, the gardener, said, "No, it's raining hard, you can't leave." So I went back inside and waited a few minutes. Then... I got impatient. I had important things to do at home, I couldn't just hang around waiting for the weather to improve! (Harumph!)

So, when the rain let up a bit, I set out. After all, I had an umbrella with me, and I was wearing my trusty old Birks that I don't mind getting muddy. (Westerners who let their shoes get muddy... another mystery to Congolese people.) Alphonse let me leave, but he himself stayed in the shelter of the veranda.

The road back to our house is a very busy one, usually full of motorcycle taxis, pedestrians and cars. The first thing I noticed, after almost slipping in the mud right outside the office gate, was that there was practically no traffic. A few cars, but no motorcycles or pedestrians. Zero.

This is the kind of classic situation in which you as a foreigner recognize that you're doing something weird in your host culture: you're the only idiot pedestrian walking in the rain.

I passed kiosk after kiosk that was either closed up or full of people huddled inside, patiently waiting for the rain to stop. I waved and smiled, embarrassed. They smiled and waved back, looking (I thought) rather amused. Typical stubborn, "no-thanks-I-can-do-it-myself" Westerner. Doesn't even have the sense to come in out of the rain.

Lessons (by Jennings)

Three times a week, a pastor comes to give me Swahili lessons. He is a very experienced teacher and has been teaching Swahili - and sometimes French - to missionaries for many years. He will have me read through a passage of Scripture, then we'll go through it slowly, picking out new vocabulary. When we come across a grammatical structure that I'm unfamiliar with, he gives me a mini-lesson and has me practice it.
In addition to being a good teacher, Pastor is one of the best story-tellers I know. He also has great cultural sensitivity, and some of the best "learning" of our time together comes from impromptu discussions of culture.
One morning recently, I saw him coming through our front yard walking very... slowly... taking baby steps, it seemed. I rushed to the door, concerned that he was ill.

Of Ginger Tabbies (and their mistresses)

"Love anything and your heart will be wrung and possibly broken.
If you want to make sure of keeping it intact you must give it to no one, not even an animal.
Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements.
Lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness.
But in that casket, safe, dark, motionless, airless, it will change.
It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable.
To love is to be vulnerable."

  -- C.S. Lewis

Last Friday, our friend Sarah's cat went missing. She hasn't seen him for over a week now. She is grieving his absence, and fearing the worst. He is an exceptionally sweet and friendly ginger tabby (or "orange tabby" as we say in the U.S.). She got him two years ago when he was just a kitten and named him "Stilton with Ginger", or Stilton for short. Sarah's first year or two here were quite difficult -- her work load was very heavy, her living situation was not peaceful, and her health was unsteady. But by the time we arrived in Bunia in 2010, she had just moved into her own house, and she had this sweet kitten to keep her company. He has been a constant, affectionate companion ever since.

There are plenty of cats in Bunia, but the idea of a cat as a pet struck many Congolese people as odd. Life here is hard, people usually have so little money and so many family members to look out for that they can't afford to be very sentimental about animals. Cats are there to do a job -- to kill rodents. Also, cats are often associated with witchcraft. People who spend a lot of time with cats, or talk to them, or carry them around, may be assumed to be doing witchcraft with them. And then there are some groups who see cats primarily as food. (I won't explore that.)

Hospitality (Or, Walls and Umbrellas)

Last week we had a special tea time at the translation office in town. We were saying good-bye to an American volunteer (now a dear friend) who spent 3 months here helping to refurbish the office and to start some new building work.  Three translation teams use the office, plus our group.  The office will serve everyone's needs much better when it is completed.  It already looks much, much better.

The first job was to build an enclosure wall around the compound.  The office is on a busy corner, both for foot traffic and vehicles, and pedestrians often cut through the yard.  The wall keeps out potential thieves, as well as (some of) the dust and noise from the road.

During the tea time, one of the translators bemoaned the loss of "la culture africaine", as more and more people put up these enclosures. Traditionally, during a rainstorm, people would welcome in passing strangers to wait out the storm so they wouldn't get wet.  But now, with these enclosures, there is no place for people to take shelter, and the traditional hospitality is lost. A couple of months ago there was a very heavy hailstorm, and a man was knocked down and nearly blacked out just outside the office.  People inside saw him, somehow, and went to help him.  But if the wall had not been there, he could have come in and taken shelter in the building, and perhaps he would not have been so hurt.

We were struck by the hospitality of this tradition of giving shelter to passers-by.  In typical, self-sufficient American fashion, we carry our own shelter around with us, in the form of umbrellas.  It would never occur to us to ask someone to let us into their house in during a simple rain shower.  Self-sufficiency is not a high value in Congo; community is. 

Palm Sunday

Palm Sunday morning, we got up earlier than usual to go to the 7:30 French service at a church we've been attending.  Douglas went outside before breakfast and noticed that our neighbors' cat was sitting at the top of our water tower.  How cute! We like this cat a lot (except for the fact that he makes Jennings sneeze) - he is friendly and feisty, seems to be a good hunter, and gets along well with the two dogs Fiona and Simbi and the duck Ferdinand that he shares the yard with.  Unlike them, he doesn't have a name, so we just call him "Cat" or "Pousse" in local French or "Pusu" in local Swahili, or "Little Buddy" or "Fangs".

By the time we were actually ready to walk out the door, we were already running late.  The cat was still on top of the water tower, but now he was crying in distress -- he couldn't get down.

Tower for the water tank outside our kitchen door

Our "Top Ten Things We Love About Living in Bunia" List

1. The People - We have dear, close friends here, both expatriate and Congolese.  We are constantly touched and humbled by how generous people are with their time and resources.

Two of our American friends made and decorated this gorgeous cake when we arrived in July.

2. The Clothes - Congolese women and men love bright, colorful patterns. Most women here wear traditional African cloth outfits, especially to church or on a special occasion. Tailoring is truly an art form. We have a particular tailor that we like, and he has made nice outfits for both of us (below). People literally stop us in the street to say how marvelous we look. They seem to love the fact that we appreciate Congolese fashion enough to wear it ourselves.

Janvier in his shop, tailoring a skirt for Jennings



Our Christmas outfits

It's always fun to see the different styles and designs that people wear.  And spotting a burly young man with a hot pink, tasseled messenger bag or a lavender "My Little Pony" backpack... that can just make your day.

Members of a choir often have outfits of matching cloth, but with individual style

An impromptu photo calls for just a bit of "spiffing up".

3. Singing - On a Sunday morning, there can be 4 or 5 different local choirs performing at church: full-throated, exuberant singing, with choreographed movements.  Generally the songs are in Lingala or Swahili, but sometimes they are in French. Thrilling!

4. Rainstorms - We get *serious* rainstorms here - drenching, full-on downpours, complete with thunder and lightning. They come down from the Blue Mountains, pushing delicious cool breezes in front of them. Wonderful!

5. The sunsets - stunning!!! (... we have not yet seen so many sunrises)

6. Goma cheese - Surprise! We get better cheese here than we did in Nairobi! Goma cheese (from the North Kivu region) comes in one-kilo rounds and is great "as is" or melted on stuff. It can fill in for many varieties of Western cheese to make grilled cheese sandwiches, pizza, lasagna, you name it. It is one of the brightest spots in our meals here.

7. Fresh produce - Passion fruit and papaya from the market, pineapple from our friends' garden, different kinds of local greens (leafy vegetables)... we love them all! Passion fruit is great by itself, and it also makes delicious juice.

Still life with Goma cheese and passion fruit

Those aren't hats on the kids' heads; they're to help them balance baskets of corn.

8. Fresh milk - Delivered to the front gate: just boil, skim and drink! Collect the cream and whip into butter! One of the advantages of living in a cow-raising region.

9. Slow walking - When the sun is high during dry season, it can be hot out there, and dusty. You do *not* want to be trying to rush somewhere, working yourself into a sweat (and kicking up dust clouds).  Plus, the roads and paths are far from even, and you might twist your ankle if you aren't careful. So just take your time. Sloooow down. Amble. Look around you... that's how everyone walks! And they're right! Greet people, breathe, relax... now, isn't that better?

10. The "Being There" Factor - When we first arrived, Congolese would ask how long we were going to be here, assuming we were visiting.  When we answered "Nous sommes là!" ("We are here!"), we were rewarded with huge smiles and vigorous handshakes.  There is something very fundamental about sharing life together, about being in the same place, being part of their lives, experiencing (a very small part of) the struggles they experience.  It's more than physical presence, it's solidarity, empathy.  It's a high value here.   "Tuko pamoja"... "We are together".

White Christmas (by Jennings)

When I (Jennings) was growing up in Birmingham, Alabama, a local radio station had a contest to win a "White Christmas"... that is, to have fake snow dumped on your front lawn from a helicopter the morning of Dec. 25.  Little did we think that Alabama would ever have a real "white Christmas"... and yet is has come to pass.

Which has gotten me thinking about the images and cultural baggage that come with the "Christmas season".  We certainly have plenty of it in our own country, some good, some not so good... time with family and friends, charitable giving, singing on the one hand... excessive spending, excessive eating, seasonal depression on the other.  Our iconic images of Christmas come from elsewhere -- New England snow, German cooking, English carolers -- and may not reflect the way people or nature look where we live.  I have never ridden a sleigh or needed a woolly hat on December 25.  Sometimes we barely needed long sleeves.

When I moved to Nairobi, Kenya in 2004, it was even more striking to see how these images of Christmas were imported there.  Billboards of Santa Claus drinking Coke in a winter wonderland.  The mechanical Santa (made in China) outside Nakumatt supermarket who danced to such Christmas classics as "Yellow Rose of Texas".  A "Santa's Grotto"... complete with fake snow... at an upscale mall.  Christmas means snow, luxury, extravagant food and gifts.  Unlike most of Africa, there are actually Kenyans in Nairobi who can afford to "do" Christmas this (expensive, foreign) way.  But for most, it is way beyond their reach.  An article in the Daily Nation a few years ago declared that "Christmas is for the rich"... at least that is how it seems to many.

This is not to say that Kenyan Christians do not celebrate Jesus' birth - they certainly do! But the cultural, Western "Christmas" is shoved in your face everywhere, and available to very few.

So it was rather gratifying to see that Christmas is much less commercial in Bunia.  Some merchants sold plastic trees and ornaments, and churches were decorated with shiny lanterns and tinsel.  But, according to friends, the main activity surrounding Christmas (and New Year's) is going to church and getting together for a big meal with family and friends. Not shopping, not snow. When we asked one friend about Christmas when he was growing up, he remembered people traveling to be near the large churches that would have the good preaching and services.

This was our first Congolese Christmas, and admittedly, we it included a lot of traditions from our home culture.  On Christmas Eve, we went to a party for English-speakers given by a Congolese pastor, and later to a carol sing (also in English).  Christmas morning, I made sweet rolls, using Douglas' Mom's recipe - a tradition we've had for a few years now.  We played carols on the stereo and opened fun gifts sent by family, and gifts to each other (including Douglas' first Congolese shirt, below).

In the afternoon, British, American, Congolese and German friends came for Christmas dinner, featuring pot roast, pork, manioc leaves, sweet potatoes and mince pies. Later, we gathered again at our friends' house to join their Christmas night tradition -- opening gifts together, drinking tea, eating (more) mince pies and Christmas cake, and playing Uno.

No snow, but magical just the same.

Breaking Bread and Foufou Together (or Stuff Missionaries Like... to eat)

Our friend Bagali* is teaching a class to Congolese grad students on "Non-African Cultures". Bagali lived in England, with his family, for several years, and has worked with Western missionaries for over 20 years, so he has a good understanding of cultural differences and potential areas of misunderstanding. The purpose of the course is to help future translators understand the Westerners they will likely be working with (...like us). Great idea, right? Western missionaries usually get orientation to African culture, but Africans don't get any orientation to us and our strange behavior.

Last week, Bagali asked us to come speak to the class about Westerners and food... what we like to eat, what we consider a "meal", what we eat for special occasions, what we find difficult to eat, what makes us sick, etc. Many of these translators will be hosting Western consultants in the future, and we want these visits to be a blessing for everyone.

It's always hard to see your own culture clearly, so I sought input from Rebecca*, who worked as a cook for

Rebecca makes amazing whole-grain bread for us

German missionaries before the 1996 war and now cooks for the American family we are house-sitting for. Her first thought was that Westerners eat a lot of  salad (raw vegetables), and a lot of cake.  Then she expanded "cake" to say that we eat a lot of flour... bread, cookies, etc.  We also eat a lot of fruit.

So what do Congolese eat? She listed sweet potatoes, greens (several varieties), rice, meat, foufou.  Wheat is not a staple here, as it is in the West. Also, there is a big difference in how people prepare food. Westerners have indoor kitchens, and we use refrigerators, ovens and stoves. Congolese mostly cook on outdoor "jikos", charcoal stoves. Congolese like fruit (papaya, pineapple, passion fruit are locally grown) and would like to eat more, like we do, but most don't have the money for it. Buying habits are also different. Most Congolese do not have salaried jobs, so they buy food on a day-to-day basis. Today's income (if there is any) buys tonight's meal. They don't generally "stock up" or buy large quantities as do Westerners, or Congolese with salaried jobs. And most have their own gardens.

Charcoal jikos, and social time

Heading to the field, hoe in hand

Back to the class. Bagali had students from different areas write on the board some basic meals: rice and beans, foufou and meat... basically a starch and an accompaniment. Then I explained how our meals might start with a salad, then the main course would be meat, veg and a starch, and then dessert. We talked a little about obesity, diabetes, high blood pressure, and other conditions that mean eating less sugar, fat and salt. These are known in Congo, but not as prevalent.

What are the main problems Westerners have had with food they have been served in Africa? Water - it should be boiled or filtered, or we can get very sick and not be able to do what we came to do. Also, a lot of Congolese food is cooked in large quantities of oil, especially palm oil. Some Westerners are allergic to palm oil; others don't digest it well and can have stomach problems. Another concern is over-spending. In many Congolese cultures, a visitor is honored with a special meal. The host gives sacrificially to provide something fine, slaughtering an animal or paying for expensive meat, milk powder, and other luxuries. But if the guest is staying for weeks at a time (as is the case with a visiting translation consultant, for example), the cost of sustaining these kinds of meals can be very high. We asked them, please, do not feel you need to do this, we just want to eat as you do and be with you. And not get sick.

What we learned from them was that, often, when Congolese are invited to eat at the home of Westerners, they leave feeling hungry.  We tend to eat smaller meals more often (3 times a day, versus once or twice a day for many Congolese), and of course we are generally not as active.

Bagali told us about a missionary in his home area when he was growing up. People knew that, if you were invited to his house for a meal, you should eat  before you go, because he wasn't going to serve much food (by  their standards).

He recalled his first stay in England 15 years ago. For the first two weeks, he still felt hungry whenever he left the meal table. Then his system began to be trained to expect regular meals of more modest size. I think his personal story was very helpful to the class.

Meal to celebrate finishing Matthew's Gospel: rice, greens and beef stew

A related point: what counts as "celebration" food is different. At a wedding in the U.S., the most important food (at least in our home areas) is the cake. Even if you offer nothing else, you have to have a cake, that's what makes it a wedding. In Africa, you are expected to have a full feast - rice, meat, etc.  Inviting someone to a celebration and just giving them cake... that would be bizarre (and inhospitable, I'm guessing). As Bagali said, at a Congolese celebration, the foufou in the pot at the center of the table should be so high that you couldn't see the guest on the other side!

Bagali also remembers another missionary - people noted that he fed meat to his dogs, and porridge to his employees. You can imagine what they thought of him and his love for the people.

One student lamented that we should have been having this discussion many years ago, it could have avoided many misunderstandings. We were very grateful to be informants, and to be better informed.

* names changed for privacy