Susan Returns to the IDP Camp: Progress, or the creation of the Haves and Have-Nots?

We just returned from visiting the IDP camp, a three-day trip to Subukia. We were there two months ago and wanted to check on the progress and work on a long-range planning strategy. Subukia is located in the Rift Valley and volcanic peaks and craters rim the valley. Northwest of Nairobi, it is a five-and-a-half hour, bone-shaking drive up narrow, zigzagging, treacherous roads.

There are sizable rocks, deep ruts and flooding. One fights for tracking in slippery red clay with the cattle, goats, sheep and occasional zebra. There are very few vehicles and no gas stations, police stations, restaurants, fire stations, farm equipment, recreation areas, hospitals, electric poles. Occasionally we would see a herd of cattle or goats being tended by either women or children.

When we passed folks walking along the side of the road, most often, they waved. We brought with us a guest, Karen, from the Maryknoll group of former sisters known as the “Full Circle.” She is in Nairobi for three months volunteering at the sisters’ section house and was very interested in the IDPs. Karen has a Ph.D. in social work and I thought her expertise would enhance the purpose of our visit. Karen also participated in preparing this blog post.

Karen from Maryknoll talking with Assistant Chief Paul

The IDP camps, internally displaced persons, were facilities set up by the government after the post election violence of 2007-2008. These 92 families have been living in tattered, filthy, once white canvas tents for five years with no running water, no electricity, and the closest primary school 5 km away. The children walk this daily.

Since our visit two months ago, the juxtaposition of abject poverty and the majestic beauty of the Rift Valley where the camp is situated, is ever greater. It is planting season in this beautiful place and as far as you can see are plots of various shades of green, the new plants at various stages of growth, contrasted with the red clay earth.

The “balloting” for 2.5 acres of plots has taken place and each family has been assigned their new land. Consequently, the process of building/planning the new community was in the infancy stage as we met. What they had done was to put all the “paper plots” into a bag and everyone picked their plot out of it. Therefore, it was the luck of the draw as to who got what plot.

As we spoke it became clear of the 92 plots, 40 are prime land, arable; 30 lots are not as prime, partly rocky, but usable; and 20 or more were deemed not arable. It was already known that families assigned to these plots would not be able to grow anything. Some of the twenty families with the prime plots had already moved their tents to their assigned area, had begun erecting houses and had planted coffee – this in a few weeks or so.

It was as Lucas, the chairman, a tall handsome man, and the Planning Committee who explained what had been done since our last visit. An assistant chief from the area, Paul, also joined us as did Francis, a member of another community who had been advising these IDPs since their arrival. Another group of 20 men were sitting on the ground in front of us and a group of 15 women, which later swelled to about 50 were sitting back about 300 feet. As the meeting progressed, they kept moving forward until by the end of the meeting, they were in alignment with the men’s group.

I asked where the young people were. Two were there as part of the council but not sitting with us – rather they were hidden in the group of adults. I urged the youth to move forward and truly become part of this group.

We asked about the disparity between plot assignments. At first Lucas advised that it was simply “bad luck” on the part of those who got the marshy, rocky land. Change/decisions should be community based, not JPIC based. I pointed out that now was the time to address the disparity between the plot assignments. If they did not do it now, it would cause major dissension in the group.

As I said this, the women moved forward and began to speak in low, but angry tones. I asked what the women were saying. With that, it was as though the lid came off. Those with the poor plots were very frustrated, raising their voice ever louder, saying they could not build on their land, neither houses nor latrines, and could not plant crops. They wanted us to all go and see what they were talking about.

Inspecting the rocky, marshy plots. The latrine pits could not be dug because of the conditions.

Karen pointed out that the children of these families would have no reason to stay in the community as they had two major resources, the land and their children. If the children moved out, their agrarian life style would be greatly compromised. She questioned who would take care of them in their old age, something critical in the African culture.

Something had to be done, and done now before all the fertile plotters left the base community and went out on their own.

We discussed that neither the council nor Lucas, as its chair, had any legal responsibility to address the problem of the plot problem, but they had a moral one. They had come from different tribes who had been fighting and killing one another. They had all lost their homes, extended families, friends, communities and were thrust together in this tented village. Did they want to perpetuate this against their fellow community with whom they have lived and suffered for five years? Did they wish for dissension again, possibly violence with the stratification now of the haves and have-nots.

Lucas responded that the solution was not an easy one. We agreed, but stated that this was a cop-out for them. They had lived five years of a very not-easy-life. They could do this. We discussed several ways of handling the situation: the community could tax the produce of the better plots, that tax money could be borrowed with no interest by the owners of the marshy, rocky plot to buy coffee hulling machines, or to pay for training in a trade. Once they were up and running, they would pay back the monies and be taxed themselves. The money then could be the start of a co-op to help young folks get training, college, or farm equipment.

The group came up another solution, that of reassigning “common land” that was to be used communally. They might be able to switch this area and give it to those who got the poor plots. These problems had to be solved by the community if it is to survive as a “community”. It was an exhausting day capped off by a trek across the fields, at the instance of some of the women who got the poor plots, who wanted us to document the situation. Yes, I saw flooded, marshy earth, with channels dug for water overage. Yes, I saw half completed pit latrines full of water and rocks. Yes, I witnessed great frustration at the “have-nots” unable to start their new lives while witnessing the “haves” moving right along. But I saw a great deal more.

I no longer ask “Where is God?” in all of the despair of the marginalized poor. Over the past decade of work in Africa and Nicaragua, I have learned that God is present in the people in their hope and certitude that tomorrow will be a better day. They want to stay on their marshy plots and it is their belief that the community will work to solve the inequality brought about by the “balloting.”

For this IDP community, who has come so far, I also firmly believe they will succeed.

-Susan

Finding God in "thin places"

"Thin places," says New York Times writer Eric Weiner, are "locales where the distance between heaven and earth collapses and we’re able to catch glimpses of the divine, or the transcendent."

These places can confuse, disorient, relax and redirect us. They can be traditionally sacred places like a church, or wild and untamed like a jungle. Sometimes we have to sweat to get there, other times we can just take a taxi.

But what makes all these places "thin" is that they jolt us out of our old ways of seeing the world and transform us— an idea that struck a chord with world traveler and FMS' executive director Kim Smolik.

In her opening address at the annual World Care Benefit and Celebration, Kim shared her own "thin places" and talked about how mission itself is a "thin" experience.



Later in the evening, Ambassador Thomas P. Melady, Anselm Moons, OFM Award recipient, talked about a "thin place" that he and wife discovered while living in Rome. They found that all of their friends - whether Christian, Jewish or not religious – loved visiting the shrine of St. Francis of Assisi. People told the couple, “There is a kindness there…I just wanted to sit and reflect. It’s so peaceful.”

So, we want to know: Where are your thin places? 

Mission and Motherhood: Growing in God

Patty Sollmann, returned missioner and mother of three

"I compare my mission experience to motherhood, and the impact that motherhood has on one's life,” says Patty Sollmann, who served in Guatemala from 1992 to 1994 as part of FMS’ second lay mission class.

"Both have stretched me and challenged me to embrace God's plan of transforming grace through love. Both have challenged me to grow in love, and in doing so, to never be left the same.

Both mission and motherhood have born the fruits of St. Francis' words, 'it is in giving that we receive.'  Both have helped me to shape me, and have helped me to sing a song of love to the Lord with my life. And both continually remind me that people matter infinitely more than things.

The main difference is that in mission you are giving birth to yourself, through God's grace. Little has had as profound an impact on the deepening and stretching of my own Christian journey than my three years serving the poor in Guatemala.

From the first moment my husband Lorenz and I arrive in Guatemala, I began to be stretched: Learning a new language, adjusting to new foods that didn't set well with my system, adapting to new and strange customs, and being challenged frequently to grow way beyond my comfort zone.

Those first nine months of mission could be compared to a gestation of sorts, with myself the one struggling for a rebirth within, struggling to 'become,' struggling to find my way and to grow and be shaped by my mission experience.

There was never a shortage of opportunities to bend, to address the uncertainty and strangeness, to confront my own cultural conditionings, and to be challenged by others and myself.

Lorenz and Patty Sollmann on mission in Guatemala, 1992-1994

Lorenz and I were self-driven, typically working 14-hour days, six days a week working on agro-ecology projects. We were part of a chicken cooperative that allowed people to raise broiler chickens to supplement their diet and income, as well as provide the village with a fresh supply of chicken.

One afternoon, we were making the rounds to check on all the cages with a mental list of many things to do when we thought we would just stop in quickly to see how the chickens were doing.

When we came to the home of Porphylia and Franesco and asked if we could check the chickens out back, Porphylia insisted we come in to visit. Both she and Francesco stopped what they were doing, pulled up a bench and dusted it off, offered us a drink and the hospitality of their undivided attention. With all the things we had to do, we didn't know how we could afford the time to sit and chat, but they insisted, and we did not wish to refuse.

To us, our visit was about getting something done. To them, it was about being with someone for a while. It was lesson for us in priorities: Learning how to slow down and make time for truly and attentively 'being' with others, that mission of presence, not just a focus on 'doing' for others. It was about learning how to gauge what was truly needed at the time, which was not our knowledge of animal husbandry, but rather our love, attention, and friendship.

I have heard it said that one spells love 'T-I-M-E.' After 17 years of being a stay-at-home mom, and 12 years of homeschooling our three wonderful children, I think that's about right. Porphylia and Francesco had it right. How this one simple moment on a warm, dusty Guatemala afternoon has stayed with me all these years!”

Patty's huband Lorenz and their children: Josef, 13; Jehanna, 11; and Lea, 17.

Patty and Lorenz, FMS' first married couple, welcomed the birth of their first daughter Lea just two months after their return to the U.S. Their family currently resides in Washington and hopes to someday go on short term mission, perhaps to Guatemala.

Mission Monday: Book signing in Zambia

Fr. Joseph Mutemena, OFM Conv., talks to Sandra Bradford's English class about his book and becoming a priest.

When missioner Sandra Bradford taught the creative writing unit to her St. Francis Secondary School's 11th grade English class in Zambia, she decided to use an example from the community. 

"The Beasts of Ghosts Town" is about a gang of young adults that is terrorizing the community of Luansha with the hero being the local police chief. The short novel written and published by newly-ordained Fr. Joseph Mutemena, OFM Conv., the assistant novice master for the local friars.

Sandra used the story in class and then encouraged her 59 students to read it.

To motivate her students further, Sandra invited Fr. Joseph to visit her class to sign books and talk to the students about how he became a writer and a priest. 

"My students were unbelievably excited -- a 'famous' person was coming to our class!" Sandra said.

"They prepared questions to ask Fr. Joseph and brushed up on the vocabulary of creative writing so 'he won't think we're dumb.' Fr. Joseph was equally excited as it was his first book signing opportunity. The whole thing was really successful and fun for all of us."

Sandra also runs the school's library and teaches 18 postulates college-level English literature and psychology at the St. Joseph Mission.

This Teacher Appreciation Week, we are grateful for all of our current and returned missioners who have served as educators abroad!

Susan in Kenya: Where is the Amber Alert?

Why is there no urgency over the fact that three children, ages 6, 8 and 12, went missing?

Their mothers, three sisters, are poor slum dwellers have been locked in court proceedings with a wealthy neighbor, Rachael, since 2009. Yes, that’s the paradox of Africa: Incredible wealth exists right next door to abject poverty.

Despite their poverty, the sisters are the title owners of Plot # 958 in the Ongata Rongai trading center section of Nairobi. They are not squatters. Rachael, however, owns the adjacent Plot # 827 and, in an all too obvious example of rank, power and privilege, encroached on the sisters plot and simply “grabbed” it.

“Land grabbing” is also an all too common occurrence here. Sure, there were a sham legal proceedings. The sisters defaulted in the eviction proceedings brought on by Rachael (if they were even notified properly). Rachel was awarded the land based on the default and made-up allegations.

The eviction took place in April 2010 under police supervision. In the middle of the night, a bulldozer was brought in and the house with the sisters and children sleeping inside was destroyed. A baby, less than a year old, was killed in the process. The mother, bereft at the loss of her child and home, permitted the child to be buried immediately. Rachael paid for the burial. There was no inquest, death certificate, or any evidence of the crime. Where is the justice for this little boy?

Br. Francis, the mothers and some of the children right after the house was destroyed and the baby killed.

In steps Br. Francis, a young Kenyan seminarian with the Franciscans. He is outraged and contacts our JPIC office. We hire a Kenyan lawyer and the proceeding drags on for two years. Rachael’s rank, power and privilege trump the judicial system over and over again. It’s really simple; look at the land maps. In Kenya, however, the corruption over title and land grabbing runs deep and pervasive. Rachael will not yield and neither will the poor women who for more than two years have had no place to call home.

In the early morning hours of April 1, 2012, the three remaining children went missing. The mothers searched everywhere. They went on a local radio show to plead for the return of the children. Just days before, Rachael had asked the names of the kids. A report was made to the local police and days went by with nothing happening. JPIC was called again.

Br. Joe and I, two wazungus (white people), accompany our Kenyan lawyer to the police station. We meet the Deputy Commander, the Commander, and the Children’s Officer. We sit in the back and let the Kenyan lawyer do the talking. We are surely given the time and entry into these offices because of our rank, power and privilege. Two white, Franciscan, American foreigners questioning authority and pleading for the children.

We are told that a taxi driver has called in response to the radio plea. He said the he drove the children to Western Kenya at the request of a nurse at a local hospital. The police tell us they have probably been trafficked into the sex trade or for organ parts. Later, we sit with their mother and grandmother who are expressionless. I am amazed that there is no ranting, crying or anger. They exhibit simple flat lined expressions.

The children are found a day later in a rescue center in Nairobi. The story is that they “ran away”. Impossible, we say. How would they have afforded the matatu fare of approximately $3 to even get on the bus?

Intimidation of the poor is just another form of rank, power and privilege. Will the women stop fighting to get their land back now that their children have been threatened? Who will answer for the dead baby boy?

Are the lives of the poor so expendable that children simply die or go missing without recourse? Do we, the privileged, even think about those people without rank and power? Or, could we use our rank, power and privilege as allies to those who have less?

National Volunteer Month Profile: Tim and Cecilia in South Africa

We conclude our series of profiles for National Volunteer Month with Tim and Cecilia Marcy, our most senior missioners. We hope that our posts from the last month have made you aware of the impact of volunteers as well as inspired you to answer your own call to service.

Click on image to enlarge

The Marcys are finishing up three years of mission at St. Francis Care Centre in Johannesburg, South Africa. This is their second mission term with FMS. From 2004 to 2006, they served at the San Pedro Parish Medical Clinic in Sacaba, Bolivia where Cecilia was a nurse and Tim was a pharmacist and worked with children. 

In South Africa, Tim works in the centre's outpatient facility. As a deacon, he also regularly helps with Mass, gives homilies and brings communion to the homebound.  

Cecilia is a nurse at the hospice for patients with HIV or AIDS. The majority of her time is spent massaging the patients' feet and legs to help deal with the pain and poor circulation that result from peripheral neuropathy of the lower extremities. Some of the AIDS strong medications can cause this too.  

"I value this opportunity to be of service in a manner that is helpful to others. I find that it is fitting my faith life at this time," Cecilia said. "I am grateful to be a part of the Franciscan Mission Service and to be working as a missioner."

Massage is useful for the patients who also have tuberculosis, especially if they have tuberculosis of spine which can paralyze them from the waist down. Some patients have problems with contractions of their leg muscles and benefit from massage as well. 


Cecilia recently shared a story about one of the patients she massages:


"A man in his twenties was admitted to the hospice. He asked for vigorous massage on his thighs because they were in such pain. After one week in the hospice, he only had the use of one leg. The doctor told him to exercise or else his leg would shrink. He did much exercise from the groin down. 

The young man persisted in trying to help himself. He had another patient try to help him with a walker, but his knees gave way and he fell, and they were both scolded by the staff. The man continued wanting massage as he was hopeful that it would help. 

Then he discovered that some of the children's climbing equipment in the playground was high enough for his hands to support him while he tried to use his legs on the ground beneath him. He didn't give up in his efforts to recover, using his arms to move himself off his high bed into a wheel chair and back into bed. He said he was due back to his job soon.

He was the most motivated patient I had known since I started at the hospice. He did have family who visited him regularly. He seemed to make friends quickly with the other male patients and the staff. He showed his fear and concern about his physical condition, but I never heard him complain."

Please support Tim and Cecilia's service in South Africa by making a donation to Franciscan Mission Service.

National Volunteer Month Profile: Bridget in DC

For those of you who have wondered who at FMS writes our blog posts, tweets, and Facebook posts, meet Bridget Higginbotham. 

Bridget is the full-time domestic volunteer from Florida who serves as our communications coordinator. In addition to our social media she handles our website, newsletter, videos, photos and design. 

When Bridget graduated from the University of Florida last year with a degree in journalism, she struggled to realize what God wanted her to do with her life. Enter the traditional media and work for a magazine or a newspaper? Or, serve her brothers and sisters in Christ - and if so, how?

"I was so excited when I found FMS on Catholic Volunteer Network," Bridget said. "It seemed like the perfect fit. I get to use the skills I've gained in storytelling and technology to indirectly help those living in poverty around the world."

And after four years as an active member of the close-knit Catholic Gator community, Bridget was happy to join a faith-based program. It was on a Catholic Gator spring break mission trips to Kentucky with the Christian Appalachian Project where she first experienced Catholic social teaching. 

"When we worked alongside the family to repair their house, we gave them dignity and love," Bridget said. "In return, we gained a greater understanding of the reality and the root of the poverty that their community faces." 

Her decision to dedicate a year as a full-time volunteer was the result of a lifelong commitment to service and faith. For 10 years, she was a part of a Christian liturgical dance ministry that used music and dance to reach out those in hospitals, nursing homes, group homes, schools, churches, and other facilities. 

In college, Bridget headed up the UF student organization that promoted organ and tissue donation by registering donors and clearing-up misconceptions that people have about the process.  She would like you to know that April is not just National Volunteer Month, but Donate Life Month and that one organ donor can save eight lives. 

In the end, Bridget attributes her 12 years in Girl Scouts as one of the greatest motivations to continue to volunteer.

"I think my experience with Girl Scouts prepared me well for working with a Franciscan organization," Bridget said. "I learned to serve God, help people, respect other cultures, and care for the earth." 

Please support Bridget's year of service by making a donation to Franciscan Mission Service.