On any given day we embark on an outreach trip that invariably begins and ends with a taxi ride. Oh, let me tell you about the taxis. Taxis here are actually fleets of minibuses that sputter along set routes. They are mostly beat-up toyota vans that have seen several decades of service elsewhere and have long since parted with their original components. On their front and rear windows are emblazoned random english phrases and names like "No gain without pain" or "new jersey nets", On 4 gnarly rows they squeeze in as much humanity as they can-- no bus leaves without at least 20 passengers crammed in. Carborateurs are definitely not en vogue, and the whole journey is spent inhaling the sooty exhaust that spews in from the floor and windows. I shudder to think how many neurons (and offspring potential) I've lost so far.... The buses are manned by a driver up front and a moneyman by the sliding door. It's the moneyman's job to be handy with the wads of francs for change, and to make sure the bus is filled to capacity. Driving is a daring dance with calamity. It's every driver's obligation to make his whereabouts known via horn to oncoming traffic. Cars with the greatest potential to inflict damage have the right of way. Every maneuver is made dynamically, every action evokes an adequate reaction at the last split second that prevents disaster. The taxi ride is our daily rite for the duration of our stay here.

***

On friday my outreach involved taking 3 minibuses to a village on the outskirts of northern Kigali. I joined a pastoral team that day, and was scheduled to speak at a church that was holding a week-long "seminar". We left right after lunch; the usual combination of rice, boiled bananas or cassava, and bean stew; and after an hours' crammed journey, we were grateful to unravel and disentangle ourselves from our seats and set foot on terra firma. The sun was bearing down on us as we made our way up the steep goatpath to the church where we were to speak. The church was set on a hill-- like most hills here, virtually a gigantic pile of pale brown mud covered with lush vegetation. The building was a nondescript mixture of mud brick and cement topped with corrugated aluminum. The pastor met us at the fork in the goatpath next to a termite mound, his broken english and teeth perfectly articulating his joy in seeing us.

Worship begins furiously, the drummer aggressively on attack with a blunt rod, producing alternating thuds and staccatos of goatskin and wood. An earnest old man dressed in a baggy suit starts hopping, leaping from one foot to the other, palms outstretched, as though trying to avoid a severe blow to the feet. The rows of benches fill up in the tiny sanctuary. Maximum capacity would have been about thirty, but everyone gets a seat in this tiny kingdom of God. The beat picks up, and in the frenzy the old man's shoes come off as tears of joy fill his face. As the choir leads the congretation in the final song, the man collapses to his knees and lifts his hands up in praise....

That evening I spoke on forgiveness-- the importance thereof, the necessity thereof. I cannot forget how costly forgiveness must be for some here. It's like being asked to rip out your heart before the killer who hacked away at your child or your mother with a machete. I cannot forget the lady who wept by the window to my side as I spoke, uncontrollable shudders of grief shaking her silhouetted figure. Who are we to talk about forgiveness? Of course, we have nothing to say but by the leading of the Holy Spirit. The message is received with what I thought was a subdued response. A few come out to receive prayer. I asked the pastor if it was ok to do one more thing. On behalf of the foreigners who came to their land bearing violence and greed, who stole from them their dignity and peace, we asked if they could extend forgiveness to us. As the interpreter translates, some burst in tears; most respond, with determination: "yego!"-- yes, we gladly forgive you ....

When I was in Haiti last year, I heard the people say, "there are mountains beyond mountains", alluding to the challenges faced in the tortuous journey of life ... or something like that. In Rwanda, at any rate, there are countless hills upon hills. At around 6:30pm, when the sun sets before you, it's still making its journey past the hills beyond, so that the receding ray of light shining through a distant valley casts an infernal halo on the clouds just above your line of sight. We were met with this view as we descended the hill, the afterglow diminshing to a smear of pinkish red. As we turned at the fork in the path I saw what I thought were bubbles that the goatboy was blowing. Instead, it was winged termites, alighting neatly in a column, one by one, from several portholes on the termite mound. The rapid fluttering of the wings created an iridescent sphere around each termite, shimmering and catching the glowing pink of the sky, A slight breeze was just barely carrying them upward and away.... Meanwhile, along the path under foot, there was a drastically different scene. What looked like a thin black hose undulating down the hill was a frenzied swarm of ants collectively forming a sinewy tangle-- the barrage of hundreds of tiny feet per second bore deep grooves on the hardened soil. Some ants, running over the backs of others, were hurtling past at extraordinary speed. Whatever destination these extraordinary beings were headed to, it was getting too dark to tell. I gingerly walked over this apparition as we headed down to the roadside for our taxi ride home....

Hi Friends,
I've been in Rwanda for a week now, and all in all I find it quite pleasant. These are the things I love about this place so far:
The lush, rolling hills that are all possible shades of green.
The beautiful skyscape above the treetops, full of massive, tumultuous clouds by day and shimmering stars by night.
The weather: on any given day you get the whole spectrum of conditions, from dazzling sunlight to torrential rain-- it keeps you on your toes!
The earth-- the kind that sticks to your soles like gum when wet, but will dry and harden in an instant.
You're surrounded by hills cluttered with shantyhouses wherever you go, so it feels like you're always in the neighborhood.
If it weren't for the suffocating pollution and sprawl, this would be an amazing place to live. Seriously, ff we had these lands in the states, it would be populated with celebrity mansions.

This past monday was Rwanda's day of mourning comemorating the genocide of 1994. The crazy thing was, a couple of us ventured into the city which was all but shut down, and happened on a hotel called hotel des mille collines--- Hotel Rwanda. I had a club sandwich by the pool. It was eerie, to say the least, to be at the epicenter of the tragedy that started 14 years to the day. There was no reminder of the massacre, but we had heard earlier testimonies from our Rwanda staff members the horrendous killings that occured. 1 million people out of seven million were killed in less than 100 days-- that's 10,000 per day. One cannot fathom the trauma of such happenings. Considering that Rwanda has the highest population density of all African countries, it's no exaggeration to say that the streets were paved with bodies. I think I'm closer to understanding how this came to be ... I'll have to flesh this out a bit.

So far I've helped do some construction at a church, ministered to streetkids, visited support meetings for ladies with HIV, prayed for a gathering of widows, worshipped with college students. I am humbled by those who in the midst of desperation shed tears of joy and gratitude for God's love. I respect the local staff members who sacrificially heed the call to ministry (like all ywam staffers, they are not paid to work here). I confess I don't know God in such ways.... I'm still figuring out how I can contribute.

Rwanda is not a big country-- it's roughly the size of Maryland. Kigali is an urban sprawl, busy with people and overused vehicles at all hours of the day. Downtown Kigali seems a lot smaller than it should be for a capital. It has the idiosyncrasies of a developing city, but I sense that in a few decades, it'll be one of the hubs in Africa. There's tangible hope here. Some parts remind me of Korea ca 25 years ago....

On Mon, Mar 31, 2008 at 2:25 PM, James Choi wrote:
> Dear friends whom I haven't seen in a while,
>
> I just wanted to give you a mass update before I leave Kona, hoping
> that I can keep in touch with you individually in the future-- please
> do keep in touch!
>
> I'm leaving for Rwanda tomorrow! I'll be part of a 25 person team
> from my Discipleship Training School at YWAM. We have a diverse group
> of people from several nations and all ages. We'll be in Rwanda for
> two months, doing various types of ministry (sports, medical/dental,
> AIDS awareness, widow/orphanage, arts, dance, church and street
> outreach). I don't quite know what to expect, but I think with the
> Rwanda diet, coupled with being in sports ministry, I'll at least stay
> quite lean! I've been wanting to go back to Africa for a while, so I
> am excited to be in what is known as the heart of Africa. Two months
> is not a long time relatively speaking, but I really want to see how
> God can bring hope to the people who need it, and get a visceral feel
> for what really brings about the desperate conditions there. And yes,
> I do want to "save souls" as well. I pray that I will remain open to
> God's promptings at all times to do whatever I should be doing while
> I'm there.
>
> DTS in Kona has been an amazing experience, and I think it came to me
> at a critical time. It was for me a process of restoring the heart,
> which on hindsight was like a lifeless limb that I couldn't even
> recognize. Heart-less, I was quite miserable living in my head in my
> past existence. For me to come to Kona, I've had to let go of some
> things I tightly held on to, like the semblance of stability (a job at
> least) which was never quite what I thought it should be-- and the
> result is more freedom. It's an ongoing process, but I hope to now
> put into practice what's been revealed during my outreach and beyond.
>
> I really don't know what I'll be doing or where I'll be after my trip,
> but I do know that it'll be good. I've realized that what matters
> most is intimacy with Jesus, and the fruits of that lifestyle is
> purpose, vision, abundance that truly lasts. I have a few ideas right
> now that I'll be praying to see how they unfurl.
>
> I just got word that we're leaving earlier than expected-- an airline
> just went bankrupt-- so I have to jet. Please do keep in touch-- I
> hope to frequent the internet cafes in Kigali.
> My physical address for now is:
> James Choi
> xxx
> Kailua-Koana, HI 96740
>
> p.s. Your support would be appreciated! I'm afraid this trip has
> depleted me financially-- if you'd like to find out more how to help,
> just email me directly, or you can send checks to the address above.
>
> James. >