Thursday, November 18, 2010

Fiji #6

Find some new pictures at: http://gallery.me.com/jamesdchristian#100053

The first thing you will notice in the photos I have added for the great pig hunt is that there is no pig. I think this was a blessing, but listen to the story and decide for yourself.

I was cooped up in the parsonage for days working on lessons and stuff. I only lasted that long because of Dani’s patient company while she did patchwork sewing.

“I need to go hiking,” I said.

“So go.” She secretly wanted to spend a day in a personal retreat — which I know means God instead of me, but hey, I understand, “better is one day in your courts than a thousand with your husband.”

Remember the Lost Boys from Peter Pan? Well, we found ‘em. They all moved into the fellowship hall next to our house. Six live here, but about 25 show up each afternoon to live off the mango trees, howl in laughter, lift weights, play volleyball, harass passing girls and even yell cock-a-doodle-do much like Pan’s crowd. For entertainment, we only have to pull open a curtain and see what face is there and ask about the antics they are hatching.

I grabbed hold of four unemployed Lost Boys and said, “Come on, you are going to show me Fiji.”

They were happy to oblige. “We’ll hunt wild pigs,” they grinned.

I wanted to see how Fijians would provide so I brought no lunch, transportation, or map. First they pushed a single flower bloom behind one ear: white plumaria, red hibiscus or a blue morning. After a bus and pick-up truck ride into the hills, the Lost Boys B-lined for wild mango, guava and pawpaw (papaya) trees and collected a bag of lunch. Using a machete, they hacked a stick into a carrying tool and we started hiking.

Before long there were new varieties of mangos to sample, rivers to swim, young ladies to evangelize (go figure), more mangos and alas, steep mountains that were difficult for the old men in the group (me). I’m guessing we covered 10 miles at a rate of 7.5/MPM (that is mangos per mile) for a total of 75 mangos. Half of the boys wore no shoes and I could barely keep up with them.

There were also waterhole cliffs to jump from and a hot spring to lounge in. I got all proud and cocky when I was the first to discover fresh boar tracks. We followed them for a half-mile and I demonstrated my uncanny outdoor skills. The pigs turned out to be four goats bleating from high on a rock. They were not even wild goats.

That was the crescendo of the big pig hunt. Embarrassed as I was that I couldn’t tell a pig print from a goat print, I was, nevertheless, glad we did not find the beasts. The Lost Boys only had two machetes and a box of matches. I assume the idea was to find wood and roast a boar, but beating a pig to death with those big knives was not something I was looking forward to. I prefer my meat shrink-wrapped and frozen, thank you.

The boys surprised me when they pulled out a loaf of bread and tuna. We put them together with the wild fruit and had a great lunch. Drinking water was abundant from the outdoor faucet of a farmhouse.

The ancient volcano was quiet as we read Scripture and worshiped above the pale-blue sea. The Lost Boys asked me about matters of spiritual formation and drank up the replies, because, you see, these Lost Boys are not really lost at all, but found in a way most can never understand. They know Jesus, intimately, and they know it is he who provides so abundantly for them.

After another swim in another river, we had to wait out a torrential downpour under a tin porch. Blam! Lightening flashed with instantaneous thunder that made everyone jump. The rolling boom was returned by our own uproarious laughter. The machetes hacked open coconuts and the juice and white meat helped to pass the time. Ten silvery waterfalls formed on the jagged peaks from which we had descended.

After the worst of the storm passed, we shivered in the drizzle for hour at the side of a dirt road until a bus bumped and rattled us down to the main highway; Then another bus got us back to our side of the Island.

When I came into the parsonage sunburned, sore and soggy, Dani was in the same chair sewing, but she had a new glow on her face from her time with the Lord as did I.

Sunday, November 14, 2010

Fiji #5

Dani and I continue ministering in Lautoka, Fiji and God is doing great things. I am able to teach Scripture at a private school one day a week and yesterday was used of God to lead several students to receive Jesus. Thanks for your prayers, they have eternal results.

Our primary teaching is on discipleship. We are working through the Tree of Life Discipleship Series available for free at http://www.freechristiandiscipleship.com/FreeChristianDiscipleship.com/Free_Christian_Discipleship_Books.html. I have now added a booklet on what the Bible says about families and another with 10 stories for teens. The stories are discussion starters for topics of sex and drugs. The content may be a bit shocking, however, these are the issues Thrid-world students face. I'm guessing First-world students face the same bare-faced temptations, but they hide it. The materials are there for anyone to use.

From Jesus, through Jesus and to Jesus are all things.

J & D

Wednesday, November 10, 2010

Fiji #4

It is Dawali, the festival of lights here in Fiji. It is an Indian holiday but all Fiji celebrates just as people of all faiths celebrate Christmas in USA.

Dani and I are passing the night on our porch because there will be no sleep until the barrage of fireworks dies down. Right now, it sounds like we are in the middle of a gun range. Houses are dressed up in Christmas lights, tiny clay dishes are set out to burn oil and then there are the colorful fireworks and door-to-door passing out of sweets. It’s like Christmas, Independence Day and Halloween in one.

It has just rained and smoke from the fireworks mixes with vapor from the warm earth along with the haze of our mosquito coil. This warm, sticky funk swirls around the mango and banana trees. It is a strange and challenging environment, complete with bugs, giant fruit bats and third-world obstacles.

We are here for the people. There are lovely believers in the church we are temporarily leading and it is a privileged to help them along their journey home. As with everyplace we go, we find plenty of hurting, damaged souls. Not much has changed since the days of Jesus:

Mt 9:35 –Mt 9:36

Jesus went through all the towns and villages, teaching in their synagogues, preaching the good news of the kingdom and healing every disease and sickness.

When he saw the crowds, he had compassion on them, because they were harassed and helpless, like sheep without a shepherd.

Below is one of 10 stories Don wrote for the Fijian schools to be used in awareness training of at-risk children. We send this story because it is based on the true life of one of our new friends here on Viti Levu. The real ending is a combination of the two alternative endings provided. After years of forced prostitution, Mereani came to a safe shelter where she thrives today and serves Jesus. We hope her life touches you as it did us.

There are a few new pictures at: http://gallery.me.com/jamesdchristian#100053

Maybe next time we can tell you about the old man and the tuna, the great pig hunt, or bats for super.

Blessings and Peace,

James & Dani

Chapter 10 – Sexual Exploitation

Case Study – We Needed Money

At the van stop, Mereani’s mother said, “I can’t keep you honey. No money. No food.”

“Please, Mommy, don’t send me there. I won’t be a problem to you.”

Her mother stroked Mereani’s pretty face. “Sweetheart, after I find work on the other side of the Island I’ll send for you. I promise.”

There on the street, Mereani cried and didn’t care who saw her. She had heard a thousand promises from her mother over her 12 years and none of them had been kept.

Mother hugged Mereani, climbed into the van and was gone in a cloud of black exhaust.

Mereani walked into their now empty hut. She picked up her few belongings and headed for Auntie’s home.

“Mereani, you come. I’m sorry your mother left. Not to worry, we will take care of you,” Auntie Josevata said as she took Mereani’s bag and set it in a room prepared for her.

“You are welcome to our family,” added Uncle Filipe as he ate a banana in the corner, “but you will have to help us earn money. We are not rich you know.”

“Yes dear, you can work in the shop after school,” Auntie Josevata was cheerful.

The ‘shop’ was only a small used tyre shed by the roadway. Mereani hated sitting next to the smelly tyres and greasy dirt floor.

At least I can get my homework done while I’m here, thought Mereani.

There were not many customers. They were mostly poor men looking to keep their taxi or car rolling for cheap.

“How long will it take to fix my tyre?” asked a mean looking driver. His old Mercedes had a flat tyre.

Mereani leaned out the back window to see if Uncle Filipe was ready to work. As usual, he had snuck off. Probably down to the kava shop.

“I’m sorry sir,” she told the customer, “but our tyre technician has gone to town for parts. He’ll be back any moment. We can fill out the bill while you wait.”

Mereani did her best to delay the making of a bill so she could stall until Uncle Filipe returned.

A month later, Uncle Filipe said at dinner, “I don’t know what we will do Josevata. They won’t give me any more tyres on credit and we have only a few left in the shop.”

“I work my fingers to the bone Filipe, you know it. Can’t get more money for cleaning houses.”

Uncle Filipe moaned. “All costs and no income. House payment due next week. We gonna be kicked out sure this time.”

‘No money, no food, nothing but problems and Mereani to feed and school fees on top of everything,’ that was the topic Mereani heard most every night. And of course, this night, it ended right where it always did.

Auntie Josevata said, “Mereani, if that mother of yours doesn’t send some money soon, I don’t know what we going to do.”

A few days later, dinner was nothing but taro.

Uncle Filipe complained, “That’s the last. Sold the last tyres out today. The shop is finished.” He threw his hands up.

“But we got rent due, and nothing to eat. Oh, what are we going to do?

There was a long silence and Uncle Filipe moved his feet back and forth and watched them with interest.

Finally, Uncle Filipe whispered, “I hate to mention this, but it has come to desperate times.” He looked up to Mereani, then to Auntie Josevata. “There is a customer that has asked several times after Mereani. She’s a virgin, so he’ll pay big.”

Mereani was shocked. What was Uncle Filipe saying? That she should have sex with this stranger?

Auntie Josevata took Mereani’s hand. “It would save us out of this terrible mess, and it’s not so bad.”

“I, I can’t. No way. Who is he Uncle?”

“The man with the Mercedes,” said Uncle Filipe.

“Oh yuck. No way. I want to help, but not that.”

Night after night, the complaining over money got worse, and every night Auntie and Uncle ended by saying the only way out was for Mereani to sleep with the customer.

Finally, a night came when Uncle Filipe said, “Mereani, we just can’t keep you any more if you aren’t going to help us. You mother has abandoned you and we are all you have. So decide, sleep on the streets and sell yourself as a prostitute out there, or be nice to my customer and you can stay here.”

Mereani looked to Auntie Josevata who shook her head and said, “Sorry Mereani, but we all got to sell something and your pretty face is all you have to offer.”

Group Discussion

Mereani must make a difficult decision. If he she says ‘yes’ and has sex with the customer, she will lose her virginity and possibly get pregnant or a disease. If she says ‘no,’ Uncle Filipe and Auntie Josevata will toss her out of the house. She will have to beg on the street and perhaps starve or be raped. What would you do if you were Mereani?

The Outcome

There are two possible choices for Mereani: 1) Agree to have sex with the Mercedes man. 2) Refuse sex and try to find a new place to live. Let’s see what happens after each choice.

Mereani Lets the Mercedes Man Use Her

Uncle Filipe said, “I will make him promise to be very gentle.”

Mereani’s Uncle and Auntie stared at her and waited for an answer.

Finally, she whispered, “If I must, okay.”

Mereani was hurt by the Mercedes man. It took weeks for her to heal. By then, Uncle Filipe used the money to buy more used tyres for the shop and Mereani had to work as the sales clerk every afternoon.

One day a young man came by the shop.

“Hey little beauty, what’s your name?”

“Mereani, sir.”

He laughed, “Don’t call me sir. I’m only a little older than you. My name is Bola.” He shook her hand.

“Is your uncle around?”

“He is in back. Shall I call him?”

“No, no. I’ll just walk around and have a word with him.” He began to go, but leaned into the shop again, “Now don’t go anywhere beautiful.”

Mereani heard the men talking a while and then Uncle Filipe called her to the back window.

The handsome customer walked a few paces away and Uncle Filipe spoke softly through the window. “Mereani, I’m sorry we had to ask you to get money from the other man. He did not even take you on a proper date. Let me make it up to you. This man,” Uncle Filipe nodded towards the stranger, “he wants to take you to a nice restaurant. And if you stay the night with him, he’ll pay enough to keep this shop open. What do you say?”

Mereani looked to the young man but said nothing.

“Your Auntie and I need you Mereani. You have to do your part.”

Still, Mereani said nothing.

“This is not like before. This man is nice. I know him.”

Mereani thought, I already got money from the mean Mercedes man, at least this time it is someone handsome.”

“Okay,” said Mereani. “I’ll go.”

Before long, men stopped by the tyre shed regularly. They never looked at the tyres, but at Mereani. She was able to help Auntie Josevata and Uncle Filipe out of their financial problems.

Something happened in Mereani’s heart, however. She stopped caring about herself. She didn’t care who she had sex with, she used drugs and she walked with her face to the ground.

After gonorrhea and several illegal abortions, at the age of 17, Mereani died of AIDS.

“Filipe, did you go to Mereani’s burial today?” asked Auntie Josevata.

“No, I was too busy at the shop with the new girl. Don’t know if she’ll ever make money like dear Mereani, but gotta try.”

Mereani Refuses Sex With the Customer

Mereani’s Uncle and Auntie stared at her and waited for an answer.

Finally, she whispered, “I’m sorry, but I can’t do that.”

“Mereani, you so selfish. Can’t be all take and no give,” said Auntie Josevata.

There was another long silence while Mereani cried.

Finally, Uncle Filipe said, “Take your things out, but remember, you are always welcome back if you change your mind.”

Mereani stood and collected her one bag. Without a goodbye, she left out the door.

Mereani wandered for hours. Finally she found a cardboard box beside a supermarket and flattened it for a mat. She lay down on the sidewalk and tried to sleep. After several hours of crying, she decided to pray.

“Oh God, how I need help. Please God hear my prayer.”

She finally fell asleep.

The sound of cars woke Mereani when it was just light. She sat up, then collected her bag to go look for food.

Mereani was surprised to find other people sleeping on the streets. She sat down next to an old man who was just stirring.

“Bula,” said the old bum.

“Good morning,” Mereani answered.

“You are new. Where from?”

Mereani was afraid, but desperate to make friends with someone who knew the streets. “My family kicked me out last night.”

“Ah, sorry to hear it.” The man was friendly.

“Do you know where we can get anything to eat?”

The old man sat up straight. “You just watch how old Charlie does this. I’ll learn you proper begging.”

Charlie held his hand out to every passer by and smiled. “Bula,” he said to many.

Some seemed to know him and gave money like they were regulars.

After a couple of hours, he said, “I think we have enough for breakfast. Come on, I’m treating.”

As they munched on buns, Charlie said, “Have you tried the Sisters of Hope? They take in Girls and women.”

Charlie gave Mereani directions and Mereani found her way to the neat and tidy charitable shelter surrounded by green lawn and bushes.

“Of course we will help you,” said the admissions nun after Mereani told her story. “Twelve years old and they want you to become a prostitute. Well not on my watch. Come right this way.”

Mereani finished high school and became a beautician in town, all while living in the Sister’s of Hope Shelter.

Walking home from work one evening, Mereani prayed aloud, “Father above, you heard my desperate prayer those years ago. Praise you.”

Just then, she passed a young prostitute on the street.

Mereani turned back. “Sister, I know a place where you can get help and get out of this life.”

The girl said nothing but looked at Mereani.

“You don’t have to do this to stay alive.”

“No thanks,” was the only reply.

Mereani said, “I walk home this way every day. Stop me anytime if you change your mind.”

Mereani walked on. She was sad for the girl, but she held her chin up in joy as she realized, that might have been me.