Reading Through Africa: Blood River by Tim Butcher

Feb6

I’m focusing my Reading Through Africa project on south central Africa because of the mission trip that some members of my church are planning for this summer to Zambia. They will be working at Kazembe Orphanage in July, God willing, and I am trying to help them to prepare for that journey.

However, my reading has distributed itself around and about Zambia for the most part because I’m finding very little fiction or nonfiction actually set in Zambia itself. I have a list of a few titles that someone very kindly suggested to me, but so far I haven’t found too many of them available at the library. Anyway, the following book takes place in the Democratic Republic of Congo which borders Zambia, and it has given me a feel for the political situation, the culture, the peoples, and the rhythms of the entire region of south central Africa, although of course, conditions in one country cannot be generalized and made applicable to all nations in the region. Kazembe Orphanage is located just across the river from the Democratic Republic of Congo.

Blood River: A Journey to Africa’s Broken Heart by Tim Butcher. Mr. Butcher set out in 2004 to retrace the footsteps of the famous British explorer Henry Morton Stanley across the Democratic Republic of the Congo from east to west, from the eastern border town of Kalemie on the shore of Lake Tanganyika to the Congo River and downriver to the Atlantic coast. Stanley was the first outsider to map the Congo River as he traveled its length in 1874-1877, almost losing his life in the process. Tim Butcher hears repeatedly while planning his own journey that the trip is “impossible” and at the least “very dangerous.” In spite of war, terrorism, widespread corruption and lack of governmental authority, Mr. Butcher makes his way across the DRC by motorbike, steamer, and dugout canoe, and as he travels he recalls the history of the places he travels through and reports on the present-day conditions. In almost every case, the state of the towns and the people in the DRC is pitiable and far more perilous and poverty-stricken than it was back in the mid-twentieth century before and immediately after the country gained its independence from Belgium (1960). From Wikipedia:

The Second Congo War, beginning in 1998, devastated the country, involved seven foreign armies and is sometimes referred to as the “African World War”. Despite the signing of peace accords in 2003, fighting continues in the east of the country. In eastern Congo, the prevalence of rape and other sexual violence is described as the worst in the world. The war is the world’s deadliest conflict since World War II, killing 5.4 million people.
Although citizens of the DRC are among the poorest in the world, having the second lowest nominal GDP per capita, the Democratic Republic of Congo is widely considered to be the richest country in the world regarding natural resources; with untapped deposits of raw minerals estimated to be worth in excess of US$24 trillion.

The contrast between the wealth of natural resources in the country and the poverty of the people is astounding and heart-breaking as Mr. Butcher travels through one wrecked, crumbling, and lawless town after another. He concludes that the greatest need in the DRC is not money or even education, but simple stability and even justice and the rule of law. Without a framework and infrastructure of honest government the people cannot be safe enough to begin to improve their lives or to educate their children to something better. Blood River gives consequently a tragic picture of prospects for the future in the DRC, as Mr. Butcher sees little or nothing that would lead him to hope that the DRC will change or become a more law-abiding and decent place to live. Indeed, according to Wikipedia again, “In 2009 people in the Congo may still be dying at a rate of an estimated 45,000 per month, and estimates of the number who have died from the long conflict range from 900,000 to 5,400,000. The death toll is due to widespread disease and famine; reports indicate that almost half of the individuals who have died are children under the age of 5. This death rate has prevailed since efforts at rebuilding the nation began in 2004.”

Hope for The Democratic Republic of the Congo and its people:
Among Congo’s hardened rebels: 500+ baptisms (Baptist Press)
Frontline Fellowship: From Communist Chaos to Christ in the Congo.
Congo Initiative. To train and develop strong, indigenous Christian leaders to transform their communities and their nation of the Democratic Republic of Congo (DRC).
Heal Africa

Poetry Friday: Poem #38, Ode on a Grecian Urn by John Keats, 1820

Feb4

“A Poet is the most unpoetical thing in existence because he has no Identity.”~John Keats

Thou still unravish’d bride of quietness,
Thou foster-child of silence and slow time,
Sylvan historian, who canst thus express
A flowery tale more sweetly than our rhyme:
What leaf-fring’d legend haunt about thy shape
Of deities or mortals, or of both,
In Tempe or the dales of Arcady?
What men or gods are these? What maidens loth?
What mad pursuit? What struggle to escape?
What pipes and timbrels? What wild ecstasy?

Heard melodies are sweet, but those unheard
Are sweeter: therefore, ye soft pipes, play on;
Not to the sensual ear, but, more endear’d,
Pipe to the spirit ditties of no tone:
Fair youth, beneath the trees, thou canst not leave
Thy song, nor ever can those trees be bare;
Bold lover, never, never canst thou kiss,
Though winning near the goal – yet, do not grieve;
She cannot fade, though thou hast not thy bliss,
For ever wilt thou love, and she be fair!

Ah, happy, happy boughs! that cannot shed
Your leaves, nor ever bid the spring adieu;
And, happy melodist, unwearied,
For ever piping songs for ever new;
More happy love! more happy, happy love!
For ever warm and still to be enjoy’d,
For ever panting, and for ever young;
All breathing human passion far above,
That leaves a heart high-sorrowful and cloy’d,
A burning forehead, and a parching tongue.

Who are these coming to the sacrifice?
To what green altar, O mysterious priest,
Lead’st thou that heifer lowing at the skies,
And all her silken flanks with garlands drest?
What little town by river or sea shore,
Or mountain-built with peaceful citadel,
Is emptied of this folk, this pious morn?
And, little town, thy streets for evermore
Will silent be; and not a soul to tell
Why thou art desolate, can e’er return.

O Attic shape! Fair attitude! with brede
Of marble men and maidens overwrought,
With forest branches and the trodden weed;
Thou, silent form, dost tease us out of thought
As doth eternity: Cold Pastoral!
When old age shall this generation waste,
Thou shalt remain, in midst of other woe
Than ours, a friend to man, to whom thou say’st,
“Beauty is truth, truth beauty,” – that is all
Ye know on earth, and all ye need to know.

I once wrote a paper for an art history class on a Grecian urn; Keats wrote a world famous, cryptic, and oft-quoted poem. And therein lies the difference between me and poor John Keats.

Poetry Friday round-up is at the blog Dori Reads today, where Dori has a lovely poem about an ant’s epic journey there and back again. Check it out.

The Movies of January 2011

Jan31

The Voyage of the Dawn Treader. Semicolon review here.

Stone of Destiny. Recommended by HG at The Common Room. I enjoyed this movie based on a true incident in 1950 when four Scots student stole the Stone of Scone from Westminster Abbey and returned it to Scotland from whence it came back in the thirteenth century.

Bright Star. Also recommended by HG at The Common Room. Based on the life, romantic entanglements, and death of Romantic poet John Keats. This one was a little too sad and hopeless for my tastes; I think I’m developing a prejudice against all Romantic poets. They were all so emo, which I guess was the point.

Les Miserables in Concert. An old favorite that we enjoyed together as a family.

Celtic Thunder: Christmas. We didn’t get this one until after Christmas, but we watched (and swooned) and sang along anyway.

The urchins watched other things, too. They (we?) watch too many movies. I’m working on that issue.

Sunday Salon: Books Read in January, 2011

Jan30

The Sunday Salon.com

Bible:
Genesis.
Mark.
Psalm 1-15.

Children’s Fiction:
Moon Over Manifest by Clare Vanderpool. Semicolon review here.
Dragon’s Gate by Laurence Yep.

Young Adult Fiction:
After the Dancing Days by Margaret L. Rostkowski.
Heist Society by Ally Carter.
Split by Swati Avashti. Semicolon review here.
The Wager by Donna Jo Napoli. Semicolon review here.
The Life of Glass by Jillian Cantor.
Harmonic Feedback by Tara Kelly.
Amy and Roger’s Epic Detour by Morgan Matson.
Ship Breaker by Paolo Bacigalupi. Semicolon review here.

Adult Fiction:
The Forsyte Saga by John Galsworthy.
Valeria’s Cross by Kathi Macias.
The Identity Man by Andrew Klavan. Semicolon review here.
The Unbearable Lightness of Scones by Alexander McCall Smith. Semicolon review here.
Mrs. ‘arris Goes to Paris by Paul Gallico.
Little Bee by Chris Cleave. Semicolon review here.

Nonfiction
You Are What You See: Watching Movies Through a Christian Lens by Scott Nehring. Semicolon review here.
The Eye of the Elephant by Delia and Mark Owens. Semicolon review here.
The Boy Who Harnessed the Wind by William Kamkwamba and Bryan Mealer.

Favorite Nonfiction Book of the Month: The Boy Who Harnessed the Wind by William Kamkwamba and Bryan Mealer. Inspirational, Thomas Edison-type story with much tragedy and questioning mixed in. Semicolon review here.

Favorite Fiction Book of the Month: Ship Breaker by Paolo Bacigalupi.

Projects, New and Old: January 2011

Jan29

My Bible Reading Project is going pretty well. I’ve read through Genesis, on track to finish Mark this weekend, and several of the Psalms. I also read Galatians, mostly aloud to the urchins, but I can’t say I was very successful in explaining the distinction between keeping the Law for the law’s sake and keeping it out of gratitude for what Christ has done. The urchins stared at me blankly for the most part as I engaged in this lesson in theology for their benefit. Ah, well, push on.

I want to take my old Bible and do this project with it: Blank Bible Project. I can see how this would be really useful—and a way of passing down a legacy to at least one of my children. More detailed instructions on making a blank Bible.

I read Certain Women by Madeleine L’Engle for the Faith N Fiction Roundtable, and I found Ms. L’Engle’s work as satisfying and thoughtful as ever. Come here, or to one of the other participants’ blogs, in February for more discussion of the book and its implications.

Poetry Project: The poems are posting on Fridays for Poetry Friday, and I’m enjoying them, even though we are in the Romantic period right now. I think I’m becoming an anti-Romantic poetry reader.

Newbery Project: I read and reviewed the Newbery Award winner, Moon Over Manifest, this month. I liked it a lot.

Operation Clean House is going nowhere. I haven’t even attempted to put together an Exercise and Diet Project. If anyone know of a way to exercise without actual physical labor being involved, please let me know.

In February, I really want to do more posts for Texas Tuesday and Read Aloud Thursday (to link to Amy’s blog, Hope Is the Word). I also would like to continue my Africa Reading Project, which has gotten off to a good start this year with several posts in January.

Poetry Friday: Poem #37, Ozymandias by Percy Byshe Shelley

Jan28

“I’ve written some poetry I don’t understand myself.”~Carl Sandburg

Egypt: Thebesphoto © 1900 Brooklyn Museum | more info (via: Wylio)
I met a traveller from an antique land
Who said: “Two vast and trunkless legs of stone
Stand in the desert. Near them on the sand,
Half sunk, a shattered visage lies, whose frown
And wrinkled lip and sneer of cold command
Tell that its sculptor well those passions read
Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things,
The hand that mocked them and the heart that fed.
And on the pedestal these words appear:
`My name is Ozymandias, King of Kings:
Look on my works, ye mighty, and despair!’
Nothing beside remains. Round the decay
Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare,
The lone and level sands stretch far away”.

I think I’ve mentioned here before that Mr. Shelley is not my favorite person or poet. However, he managed in Ozymandias to capture the spirit of the Biblical admonition, “Remember, O man, that you are dust, and unto dust you shall return.” (Genesis 3:19)

Ash Wednesday, the beginning of the Christian season of Lent, is about a month away, on March 9 this year. We would do well to remember the arrogant and the mighty who were fallen and forgotten before we were born and come before the Lord God of the Universe in humility and repentance.

Poetry Friday is at Wild Rose Reader this week. Check it out for more poetical lessons and entertainment.

The Wager by Donna Jo Napoli

Jan25

Ms. Napoli has novelized several folk and fairy tales already, and The Wager is another good entry in that genre. It’s the story, taken from a Sicilian fairytale “Don Giovanni de la Fortuna“, of Don Giovanni who makes a wager with the devil: he can have riches unimaginable that will never run out if he will go for three years, three months, and three days without bathing, shaving, changing clothes, or combing his hair. If he loses the bet, the devil, of course, gets Don Giovanni’s soul.

The details of Don Giovanni’s three+ years of degradation are fairly graphic and horrific. If you’re not up for pustules and bodily wastes, don’t read the book. Nevertheless, although the book started out rather slowly, the tension and the theme in particular built to a compelling read that I’m still thinking about today. (I finished the book last night.) Making a bet or a deal with the devil, hazarding one’s soul in return for X, is a popular theme in folk tales and in literature. The story mirrors the first story of Adam and Eve who exchange their souls for a lie and a piece of fruit. And only the sacrifice of Christ can redeem the soul from Satan’s lies.

However, in many popular stories, like this one of Don Giovanni, the wagerer pays for his own folly, redeems himself, so to speak, by outwitting the devil. Don Giovanni emerges through great suffering to live happily ever after. The idea that suffering, in this case self-inflicted suffering, is redemptive in and of itself seems to me to be flawed. Suffering is suffering; it’s nasty, uncomfortable, and possibly meaningless—unless it can be redeemed and madeinto a growth experience by someone else, someone who transcends our suffering and gives us hope and a future. Of course, the Someone is Jesus Christ. Although, Don Giovanni professes to be a “good Catholic” in Ms. napoli’s novel, he doesn’t look either to religion or to Christ for rescue. He does find meaning in the simple kindness of strangers and fellow beggars and that of a myserious artist who sees past his appearance into his soul.

It’s true that if I can be loved in spite of, in the middle of, all my sin and humiliation, my life can become something beautiful by the power of Christ in me. It’s not true that any human love can accomplish this transformation in me; however, I suppose Don Giovanni’s story is an imperfect picture of The Great Story of God’s reclamation and cleansing of his people.

Other fairytales for young adults reimagined by Donna Jo Napoli (well worth your time if you like this sort of thing):
The Magic Circle (Hansel and Gretel)
Zel (Rapunzel) Brown Bear daughter recommends.
Beast (Beauty and the Beast)
Crazy Jack (Jack and the Beanstalk)
Spinners (Rumpelstiltskin)
Hush: An Irish Princess’s Tale (Icelandic folk tale) Brown Bear Daughter also recommends.
Breath (The Pied Piper of Hamelin)
Sirena (Greek mythology)
Bound (Chinese Cinderella)

I’ll leave you with a humorous take on making a bet with the devil, not to mention some fine fiddle playing, in this 1979 song, “The Devil Went Down to Georgia” by the Charlie Daniels Band:

In spite of the success of Johnny, the boy fiddle player, and Don Giovanni, I would suggest that you make no bets with the devil unless you’re prepared to pay the price. Satan is a deceiver, and our souls are already in hock without Jesus.

The Eye of the Elephant: An Epic Adventure in the African Wilderness by Delia and Mark Owens

Jan24

Epic is right. Mark and Delia Owens first went to Africa in 1974 to study lion behavior in the Kalahari Desert. They lived in the desert for seven years and wrote a book about their experiences, Cry of the Kalahari. The couple then returned to the U.S. to complete their graduate work and then attempted to return to their work in Botswana. However, when the government of Botswana declared them persona non grata, they were forced to look for another place to carry on their vocation in wildlife management and conservation. North Luangwa National Park in Zambia and the preservation of the endangered elephant population there became their mission.

Mission, obsession, calling—all these words are somewhat inadequate to describe the dedication with which Mark Owens in particular approaches the task of protecting the elephants from poachers who are slaughtering the elephants for the meat and for the ivory trade. Mr. Owens literally endangers his own life while trying every trick, weapon, and argument in the book to stop the poachers. He flies daily (and nightly) “missions” to find the poachers. He begs and encourages and bribes the native Zambian game guards to do their jobs and arrest the poachers, without much success. He sends letters of appeal and sends radio messages to anyone he thinks might help. And all the while, the elephants are being killed at the rate of several thousand per year.

Finally, in October 1989, seventy-six nations vote to list the African elephant as an endangered species and to forbid trade in ivory and all other elephant parts. This action along with the Owens’ work in confronting poachers and educating Zambian villagers about the value of wildlife in attracting tourism dollars is instrumental in slowing to a near-halt the poaching of elephants on a large-scale basis.

Of course, after reading an entire book about the anti-poaching efferts of Delia and Mark Owens, I had to see what the couple is doing now and what the status of the elephants in North Luangwa is now. The Owens have returned to the U.S., but their conservation and education project in North Luangwa continues under the auspices of Zambian Hammer Simwinga and the Owens Foundation for Wildlife Conservation. The Owens have most recently been working on grizzly bear conservation in North Idaho. The elephant population in North Luangwa is said to be slowly increasing.

I’m not really an animal person. While I think it is a worthwhile goal to save endangered species, such as the African elephant, it’s not a cause I feel called to give my life to. Still, I am interested in Africa, and particularly in Zambia this year, so I found the adventures of Mark and Delia Owens fascinating.

Voices for Life

Jan23

Joan at Lines in Pleasant Places: “I didn’t plan on having you at age eighteen, but God did. He knew from before I was born, that I would have you at only eighteen. He knows now if you are a boy or girl, and He has a plan for your life, as well as mine.”

Keiki Hendrix at Wonder of Days: Since Roe v. Wade in 1973, “over 46 million children have died. Let that sink in – 46 million. This hits me at home because one of those 46 million is named Elizabeth and she was mine.”

Judy at Carpe Libris: “I don’t think we realize sometimes that the issue of abortion involves real people, men and women who are struggling to do the right thing. Whether it be the question of “Do I abort or not?” or “What is my family going to think?” or “How is all of this going to affect my life?”, there are some agonizing decisions to be made.”

Marcia Morrisey at Patheos: When you are struggling, and the medical people are so forceful, the idea of abortion blips through your mind, unbidden, because you’re told it is a real option, and when you’re emotional, it’s easy to fall for fall for rhetoric.

That Mom: As the crisp melodic phrases of Mozart danced off of her fingertips, my heart swelled with pride and a sense of the awesome God who created this child, choosing her as His own before the foundations of the world, and giving her life in my womb.