Milestones

Kristen and I have reached a milestone:  March 27, 2014, marked one year since we left the states.  A lot has happened, we've grown and learned, and life and work here has slowly become "normal."

Along with the calendar-based milestone, we have also reached a significant point in our work.  Our objective while we are here is to learn about the Tanosy people, and in order to do that effectively, we have been building relationships with people in various towns and villages.  It can be a slow process, and is sometimes quite difficult, due to a variety of circumstances.  Here is a brief and recent example, though, of how it can pay off.

Sitting and talking in the village of Ebobaky

Houses in Ebobaky

These are pictures from a small village called Ebobaky (Eh-BOO-bah-key).  It is about 12 kilometers (7.5 miles) outside of Fort Dauphin, in the rural commune, or town, of Soanierana (Shoo-ah-nee-RAH-nah).  Back in September, Kristen and I made our first trip to the commune, just to see what was there as we were settling in to Fort Dauphin and looking to begin our work and research.  We were introduced to some of the people in Ebobaky, and they were immediately welcoming and happy to have us visit their village.  As time went on, we would frequently drive out to Soanierana, and would always make it a point to pass through Ebobaky and say hello.

The market along the main road through Soanierana

Now, let's fast forward to April.  Kristen and I had just returned from a month in Europe and mainland Africa, and were ready to get back to work.  I was talking to a friend, Rado, about how I was planning to travel to Soanierana soon to do some work, and he said that he was also planning to go there to teach a Bible study.  So, we decided to go there together to spend the weekend.

So on a Friday afternoon, we loaded up the truck and headed out.  Its only 12 kilometers to the town, but with how the roads are, it's about a 40 minute drive.  Our first stop was at the office of the town leader, called the president of the Fokontany.  He had already given me permission to visit and work in Soanierana whenever I want, but it had been a while since I had talked to him, and I wanted to introduce him to Rado.  I told him what our plans were for the weekend, and asked if the small sandy road to Ebobaky was in good enough condition to drive on after some recent heavy rains.  His response was, "Tena mety ny lalana," which translates to, "the roads are great."  And he was right, to some extent...

The rains had not, in fact, worn down the road.  The interesting thing about heavy rain, though, is that it also makes things grow.  In this case, every little sprout had suddenly received the proper nourishment to grow into a dense shrub, and they had grown straight up and out into the road.  But that's what brush guards are for, right?

Rado and I pushed our way through the mounds of sand and the newly grown mini-forest, and finally parked just outside of Ebobaky.  We got out and walked the rest of the way into the village to find some people to talk to.  We found one of the older men I talk to most of the times I visit, and we began to catch up after a couple of months of not seeing each other.  I told him that I would like to sit and talk at some point, because I have a lot of questions about the Tanosy people (of which he is a part), and I think he would be able to help.  "Of course!" he said.  "Come back tonight at 7, and we can talk until we go to sleep!"

Happy with that response, I said, "thank you," and Rado and I returned to Soanierana.  We spent the rest of the afternoon there, walking around town, speaking to some people we knew, and waiting for dinner.

Around six o'clock, we sat down to dinner at the "hotel" we were planning on sleeping in that night.  "Hotel" is a rather loose description, though.  I'm pretty sure the owner just happened to have a large house, so he set out some cots and charged people a couple dollars a night to sleep there.  The room where my cot was didn't even have a door separating it from the main room; I wasn't too upset, though, because it gave me a straight course out, just in case the multitude of large spiders on the ceiling decided to make their way down during the night.

Anyway, Rado and I sat down to dinner at six o'clock.  Winter is just beginning here, so it was already getting dark as our food was brought to us.  There is no electricity, of course, so we enjoyed a nice dinner of chicken and rice (lots of rice!) by candle light.  Then, just before seven, we went back to Ebobaky.

Oops, forgot to use the flash...

Much better. Now you can see the huge pot of rice. Also, Rado.

This time, as we were parking just outside of the village, they insisted we park beside their houses.  So we got back in the car, and drove down an even narrower, more overgrown path.  We stopped the car, got out, and sat down beside a tree.  At least I think we were next to a tree; we were sitting in the darkest darkness I believe I have ever seen.  Thankfully, I had a flashlight to place in the middle of the circle, and everyone was happy to be able to see each others' faces.

There we sat, with just the light of a small flashlight and the heavy hum of countless insects whirring around us, talking for hours about life, death, family, "fomba" (customs and traditions), God, spirits, religion, ancestors and history.  Months ago, it was difficult to get them to open up about simple things, and here, on this warm night, it felt like talking with old friends, despite my broken Malagasy and the need to have Rado translate some of their answers.  Perhaps they trusted me more now than when I first started visiting their village.  Maybe there's just something about sitting around at night that encourages deeper dialogue.  Whatever it was, I'm just thankful for long talks and honest conversation.

Sitting and talking at night

Finally, we took note of how late it had become.  We stood up, said our thank-yous and goodbyes, and went to leave.  Before I could turn the truck around, I was told that the path which I was already on was "tena mety," again meaning it was fine to drive on.  There was no path to be seen, and instead, I just drove my truck in the only direction it could physically make it.  Maybe I should quit believing these guys when they tell me the roads are good.  But despite the difficulty of getting the truck out of the village, Rado and I were all smiles as we reflected on how great the conversation was and how much we had learned.

Will you join me in praying for the people of Ebobaky?  They know about Jesus, but they do not yet believe in Him as the only way to the Father.  Many still trust in the "ombiasa", or witchdoctor.  Some don't trust him, but are afraid of what might happen if they don't pretend to.  There are churches in the nearby towns that they worship in, but they still do not follow Jesus.

Also, let's pray for the rest of the Tanosy people.  Overall, they are an unreached people group.  Sure, there have been missionaries, and there are churches all over, but religion has become nothing more than a "fomba" that they merge with their traditional beliefs.

Pray for the people working to take the Gospel to the Tanosy.  Kristen and I hope to have more conversations like this in the other towns we have been visiting, in order to have a deeper understanding of the Tanosy worldview.  Our partner is preparing stories and training others to teach the Bible in these villages.  And there are people like Rado, who are heart-broken for their home country, and are eager to follow God wherever he leads.

Me and Kristen with Rado (left) and Mireille (right), two of the people who teach the Bible in the villages

Thank you for all of your prayers and support.  I hope this helps you see a little better just how much your prayers and faithfulness are needed to reach the lost.