Over The River And Nowhere Near Granny's House...

Let me tell you a story. 

I think you might laugh. I hope you don't cry. But no matter what happens, I hope you are ready for the ride! By the way, I did both - laughed and cried - and sometimes I got the two confused and let them both out together. It's all good.

THURS JULY 5, 2012: Tanzanian DL officially issued; I can drive motorcycles and non-commercial cars and light trucks. YES!

 DAY 1, SAT JULY 7, 2012: (Left to right) The Three Amigos - Javen, John, and Ibrahim gear up, load up, and ride off on two 150cc motorcycles for a 320km trip over dirt roads, mountain trails, rivers, and whatever else the compass brought us to when our coordinates no longer landed on paths. Pay attention to the smiles...

About 2 hours into the ride we hit the Malagarassi River crossing at Ilagala. Do these bikes swim?

Um, you guys look like you know where you're going, do you mind chatting for a while with the lost white guys? BTW, I have an Advil if you have a headache.

Ahhhh yes, Herembe. The animated signage reminds me of Orlando... 

...I am so glad that this sign was posted on our way back from washing our faces in the lake. Makes total sense. STOP AND READ THE SIGN BEFORE GOING FURTHER.

One of the disappointing things about the trip was that the gas stations didn't have a nacho cheese spout. 

Javen makes it look so smooth. He is an easy rider.

Some guy tried to tell us this was a ferry crossing and we needed to pay to load up his boat and cross this river. Seriously, I am just kidding.

That bottle is called a LifeSaver; it is an awesome water filter. After drinking from some of the rivers we passed, the fact that we are still alive leads me to belive it worked. 

That's another way to cross a river.

DAY 1, 8 HOURS INTO RIDING: I  must say, the pictures and videos we have don't tell the full story. These trails were at times 50 degree slopes with loose shale or stones. We carried between 50 and 90 lbs of dead weight each, plus I had a rider on the back. So that scream wasn't just heat stroke.

The truth is, Ibrahim got off the bike for many reasons. 25% of the time it was because I asked him to. 25% was because the 150cc go-kart couldn't safely handle the load. 50% was plain fear that I was gonna kill him trying to ride him through some of these trails.

DAY 1, 12 HOURS AFTER DEPARTURE: We made camp at Lubilizi Village. The ride score like this:

JOHN - 2 falls, 1 lost foot pedal, 1 mangled foot brake, and 1 nasty knee scrape. JAVEN - 0 falls, 0 damage.

DAY 2, 1 HOUR INTO THE RIDE: If this is how things are gonna go today, HELP! Again, must I remind you that this video was filmed on a bending 50 degree mountain slope with loose rocks -on a 150cc bike! Stop laughing!

This river crossing means we are close - AND - that I probably should have put the camera down and helped these guys.

I can handle this, no sweat!

DAY 2, 8 HOURS AFTER DEPARTURE: We have made it to Kamabwinsofu - and this man is helping me piece the bike together.

Peter, the makeshift mechanic's son, had a large ringworm on his head. We treated him before we left and are anxious to see the results...

DAYS 3 - 4, IN THE VILLAGE: Javen and Ibrahim takin' a minute to kick it with Bato.

These kids loved our bikes. Can you believe these little toys even had spinning wheels!

This picture was from the last expedition where our team left the village with their first copies of complete Bibles! Nothing like getting into the Old Testament just before some discipleship & teaching sessions...

Now this was fun. First, get your butt kicked by a rooster (see the bloody knee). Second, apprehend the rooster and tell it all sorts of things about Genesis Chapter 1 and how God gave you dominion to rule over it. Third, exact revenge on the rooster and use what remains of him to provide a feast for the Pastor and his family. Redemption.

The utilitarian approach.

The payoff! Chicken in peanut sauce and beans in Sicilian lentil soup over rice...

And this is why we came. Teaching and Q&A about Jesus, walking with the Lord, and the Bible. We even had the women included (progress).

Praying together always rocks. The questions ranged from "what can we eat?" to "when do we repent?" to "how do I walk with Jesus and have 2 wives?" Good thing Mitt Romney wasn't with us.

There is something about worship that transcends language. And the drums are really cool.

DAY 5, 5 HOURS AFTER LEAVING THE VILLAGE: Up to this point, the picture taking was sparse; probably because of the slew of uncool and time-killing things that we encountered. First, 90 minutes into our ride, my gear pedal fell off because I forgot to tighten it before we left. Lost an hour easy there. Then, about 45 minutes later, I wrecked the bike doing about 25mph and used my face to soften the fall (another hour gone). That wasn't the best move, since it resulted in a concussion, temporary disorientation and memory loss. At least Javen got to use the skills we learned as wilderness first responders to keep the situation calm and under control. www.SOLOSCHOOLS.com if you wanna learn too...

Yep, still alive. BTW, notice the slight changes to the smile?

Good thing they made an underwater bridge out of small, uneven boulders. For a minute, we were wondering why that made any sense at all!?

We made it!

DAY 5, 10 HOURS AFTER DEPARTURE: We are camping tonight in a village we have never been before, with a family that welcomed us so warmly!

Dude made us a nice fire. I am delirious.

DAY 6, 2 HOURS AFTER DEPARTING (and only 4 hours to home!): Are you serious!? NOW! On top of a mountain! Ten minutes from the nice road!!!

Gotta say, I am gonna talk to God about the fly thing when I get to Heaven. Seriously, not on the top ten list of best creations in my book.

DAY 6, 5 HOURS INTO THE TRIP: Yeah the first genius way to patch the tire didn't actually prove too genius...At least we moved 20 minutes further before all of the air escaped again. By the time this finished, we lost 5 HOURS ON FLAT TIRES! 

It is here we end our story. With about 5 more hours of riding we cruised home in a single shot fighting leg cramps, headaches, butt chaffing, and darkness. But we made it. All for 2 days of Bible teaching and Q&A. It was a blast. 

And well worth it. Can't wait to do it again. After I update my life insurance.

To learn more about John & Nikki and TNT's ministry around the world, please visit our website:

www.TouchingNationsToday.org

If you wish to donate, please click this DONATE link and follow the giving instructions.

Always On (African) Time

     One of the things you are forced to deal with quickly in Africa is the fact that clocks and watches serve an entirely different purpose on this continent than they do in the Americas. As American children are nurtured into a life of productive citizenship, we are taught the clock, like the bank statement, has the power to administer cosmic justice in your life which can leave you out of a job, without a meal, or sleeping on the couch. If we miss the clocks's call, we are subject to a wrath directly proportionate to the time we have stolen from that cold, ever-ticking harbinger of judgment.
     Forget culture shock. In Africa you experience something more like a step into another dimension - a visit to the twilight zone where things seems like they can and should operate normally, but simply don’t. People wear watches because they’re cool and they fit around their wrists and should simply be there. Clocks hang on walls just because every office needs a clock to be an office, right? “Hours of operation” is a  loosely used figure of speech which alludes to the idea that someone works here rather than serving the logical  purpose of telling you when they will work here.
     No one is exempt from this unwritten African law.
     Unfortunately, I haven’t yet found a way to levitate over this chasm of perspectives. As best we try, our ministry gets sucked into the quagmire of whenever. Commerce has been swallowed by the beast. Government - as anyone could well imagine, never had a chance. And so we prepared to set out for our last village expedition into the Southern Mountains, with a plan to spend time with the pastor who has been standing for Christ in a village with roots deep in witchcraft and ancestral worship.
     We were looking forward to getting out to the village and walking with Pastor Moshi, talking with the men he is leading, and getting to look deeply into how the Gospel is taking root and where strength is needed. This village will be the epicenter of a move of God that burns throughout some of the most remote areas of Tanzania. And we were ready to hit the ground running, arm in arm.
     But there was one minor detail that needed to be ironed out. In recent months, the Tanzanian government has been cracking down on "work" activities by non-residents or visitors. Ministry, regardless of whether it is volunteer or for profit, has been deemed a "work related activity," and so we would have to wait on proper permitting. The good news was these permits are a one day process. The bad news was that based on the African clock, one day events can happen repeatedly  - in this case for ten days straight - and still fall reasonably within the prescribed time for the job.

     Oh, but Thank You Jesus  for being eternal, and for not being led by time. You know Romans tells us that "God works all things for good for those who love him and are called according to his purpose." Good thing we are in business for him, because the only way waiting ten days for a one day permit seems reasonable is if God was orchestrating something special in the background. You see, there is a residency permit in Tanzania that allows you to live in the country for 2 years, to take part in "work related activities," and for the most part act as quasi citizen of this fine nation. And at the end of our ten days of African clock-watching, those of us new to the team all had a form of this residency permit. Never mind that it is valid only for 3 months because we were leaving back to America in that time. Never mind that in order to apply for residency permits in Tanzania you must be outside of the nation's borders - we never stepped off Tanzanian soil and still were permitted. Never mind that approval for residency sometimes takes up to 12 months. We were approved in 10 days! And now we're in the system. Sweet deal.
     In case you don't already know, let me tell you how things go with the God I serve. He is pretty much awesome. Every time he does something it is more incredible than I expected. Every time I am ready to describe what I see him do, I am blown away by the ways he moved that I didn't see. Even in my pain and trouble, he has been closer than anyone I have ever known. And yes, even in the midst of this African time-warp bureaucracy, he was there. He was there from the immigration office in Tanzania, all the way through our 2 day, 16 hour drive to the village. He was there as we crossed makeshift bridges in the truck, with the trailer in tow. He was there as we drove over spike-like bamboo shoots. He was there as we pulled into the village and met not only the budding church, but also as the drunks and castaways came to see what all the buzz was about.
     He is always there. He is always there and always doing something awesome we don't see. In this case, by the time we left the village, nearly three weeks after we began the process of permitting and waiting, he had prepared for us and Pastor Moshi a wonderful platform to move into the next phase of our ministry. With help from Moshi and a passerby who happened to come through the village while we were there (thanks, time-warp) we identified 5 new unreached villages which we are setting out for in the coming days. The village's biggest maker of alcohol gave his life to the Lord and publicly shouted to the village that he was turning from his addiction to Christ while we baptized him. Then the former king took his place as a son of God and did the same.
     According to my Google calendar, this trip ran a little late. I'm glad God obviously doesn't sync his calendar to mine.
     What a trip.

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Video Update - May '12

John & Nikki Garrett: Missionaries To Tanzania

Welcome to our first video blog entry. We hope you enjoy the change of pace. Since this video was first made, there have been some minor adjustments to our plans. The video says we are leaving on a Thursday, but there was a delay on some of our work permit paperwork and we will actually be departing sometime between Monday and Wednesday of the last week of May.

The silver lining to this hang-up is that the errors made in the local immigration office have opened a way for us to help our Tongwe village church and pastor get their national registrations approved and validated sooner than normal. The door has also opened much sooner than usual for us to get temporary residency through this organization - a much broader permission to live and work in the country than the short-term work permits we were initially pursuing in this first year. So, once again, God has taken an inconvenience and is turning it for our benefit.

To see the video update, please click PLAY:

We thank all of you who have taken part in our work and pray the Lord will continue to lead you daily into a radical and intimate relationship with Jesus. We leave you with an excerpt from Forgotten God, by Francis Chan: "It is easy to use the phrase 'God's will for my life' as an excuse for inaction or even disobedience. It's much less demanding to think about God's will for your future than it is to ask Him what He wants you to do in the next ten minutes. It's safer to commit to following Him someday instead of this day."

To learn more about John & Nikki and TNT's ministry around the world, please visit our website:

www.TouchingNationsToday.org

If you wish to donate, please click this DONATE link and follow the giving instructions.

I Didn't Sign Up For This!..Did I?

   For those of you who love or raise goats, I am sorry. I cannot help but tell the truth - the whole truth - so help me, God...

   There is something about the smell of goat meat. The easiest comparison to draw is with lamb, but the truth is a good piece of lamb is recognized worldwide as a choice meat. Goat is, at best, the meat of no choice. It stinks, literally. Its so lean that it cooks tough almost any way you try. Its no surprise that just about the only way you'd want to eat goat is drenched in a potent curry or swimming in a 12 hour stew...and that because there just isn't anything else...

   Here's the thing - goat meat stinks because goats stink. Their body odor smells like it is derived from their waste. Or maybe its their waste that is tinged with their musk. I am not really sure which came first, the stink or the stinker, but I am sure of this: Where there are goats there is the smell, and I don't like it.

   Goats are relatively easy to raise. They eat anything. They are cheap and provide a means to milk and cheese and protein. I understand their reason for existence. But you know what, they're not nice animals. They aren't cute, they aren't affectionate, they aren't loyal, and they aren't even beasts of burden. So even though I know their purpose, I own no inkling of sentimentality or fondness for a goat. There is a reason for the term scapegoat. Someone's goat ate his crop, his flowers, and his wife's blouse and that man beat his goat (which suffered no remorse) and wondered why he kept the wretched animal. The four ounces a week of smelly milk, cheese, and meat just weren't worth it. Naturally, that goat took the blame for just about every other failure that man suffered in life. And he told his friends. You know, even after the Lamb of God was crucified we didn't convert to using "scapelamb." I'm just saying...

   So the stage is set. Its about 11 am Tuesday, the 1st of May. My 7.78 year old daughter Angelina frantically throws the door open screaming, "THE GOAT IS HAVING B-A-B-I-E-S!!!" Immediately arrested by her manic enthusiasm I jump to my bare feet and run out the door with her, never fully considering the implications that our over-sized herbivorous farm rat is creating more of the same. This was a grave mistake because as it turns out, she needed help. 

   Now, I will not address the reasons why we own goats, mostly because it is a blight on my name and because I would need others who aren't present at this time to do so. But I will say this, when choosing between explaining to my way-over-the-top excited daughter why one of the baby goats died right before her eyes or trying to save it from prematurely experiencing its destiny, I chose the latter. And it was a mess.

   Lets just say Momgoat's instincts weren't very forgiving to one of her babies. The second born, and smaller of the two kids, was less responsive than the first. Momgoat seemed to know something because she wasted little time or energy on that kid. She didn't want to clean it or let it nurse. So in I went. Armed with a damp dish towel (now retired) I wiped the baby clean. The next step was getting it fed ASAP. This was a group effort, but I was the one head-locking Momgoat, running barefoot through the matrix of dirt, poop, and birth effects, covered in the baby's old bathwater. 

   I also got to milk her first. I have had some good experience milking farm animals in the past, so clearly this is simply a survival skill that I was able to use at a critical moment. Don't be fooled into thinking any of these were acts of goat compassion. There isn't much I wouldn't do for my daughters. 

   Thankfully, most of the team was fully engaged at this point. We were a group juggling act, between Googling for help, brewing black coffee to stimulate the baby goat, and tag-teaming the precarious milking/bottle feeding operation. Soon I would see my relief.

   At this point, I would like to take this story in a different direction. The details of goat birth aren't much different than the rest of goat existence. Smelly and mostly useless, with glimmers of life and the feeling of reward quickly replaced by feelings of disgust, remorse, and even shame. After all of the hard work and Javen & Caitlin and Allyssa's 36 hour nursing efforts, the 2nd kid never made it. Inherently death is a sad thing, and I wished it turned out better for the goat. The tears my daughters shed were not easy for this daddy to feel. But I am most distraught by the fact that I really felt emotional at times in the fight for this "farm rat's" life. 

   Thankfully, there was a survivor in all of this, and my children were able to take many things from this experience. Not only was their Mennonite home school curriculum perfectly augmented by a day on the farm, but we had some meaningful conversations about life and death, and they got to journal about their feelings. I even got to touch a few of mine. Not that I like goats now or anything, but I have a vested interest in giving "Junior" his shot at eating one of our flower beds.

   So RIP, baby goat. It should have never been this way. I never signed up for this. But wait - I am a third world missionary - maybe I did.

The High Life

   12 people. 51 total bags. 7 flights and 8 airports. Approximately 301 flight hours combined…Jet lag, 3 children, a pregnant mother, a plane crash, 1 flea-infested hotel bed, a leach ridden bathroom, and a little “hakuna matata”, the whole way through.

   Welcome back to Africa.

   Things are a bit different for us this time. If our first trip into the Dark Continent was a family honeymoon of sorts - bathed in bliss and excitement despite the trials and extremes - this year has come with the large dose of reality that stems from crossing certain mental and emotional thresholds.

   The toilets have crank arms. The kitchen doesn’t get hot water, and the water needs to be filtered (Brita doesn’t qualify). The stove has two working burners and one shocks you if you grab a pot without wearing shoes - no kidding. A hole in the screen means potential invasion from a flying hypodermic needle armed with any of a host of infectious diseases.  

   But you know what? As good a story as this might make, when we dropped our heads last night and tucked into our fresh sheets under the mosquito tents, we laughed about how we really get to live the missionary High Life.

   In recently reading about Dr. David Livingstone, I have been captivated by the accounts of his travels and the work he did. But what is really amazing was the way he did it with so much less than we have today, and under circumstances so much more unpredictable than ours. I mean, we are talking about a man who traveled by foot (or buffalo on good days, and sick bed on bad ones) across a continent that had never been mapped, and with none of the technology, tools, or pioneers to lean on.

   The truth is, when we go into the bush for ministry, much of what we experience might be very much like what Livingstone did. But we have so many to look to who have done it before. Some of them are on our team. Plus, the pay is great; we get the eternal satisfaction of people being rescued from Hell and delivered into everlasting life. However, when we "suffer" the inconveniences of life here in Kigoma - slower pace and less amenities and the sacrifice of some of the luxuries we think we deserve - it is not so far removed from living on a rural farm in many parts of the States. 
 In the face of those short times that we humble ourselves and simply experience with other people the lives they live daily - be it in a bush village or the squalor of a leper camp - and seeing things in the light of how others before us have done what we do with so much more pressure and less relief, it is great to be able to say that we are truly living the missionary High Life!

  

Digging Ditches, Drying Tears

Tonight in a house in Central Florida, there is a family - a team - crying out to God for the souls of men in a dark corner of East Africa. From a backwards cracker town God has ignited a spark that is smoldering in hidden mountain villages long chained to ancient pillars. The souls of men are not constrained by cultural  delineations. The Spirit of God is not contained by any earthly boundary.


And so we cry. We shout. We pray. We hope and we wait for our chance to return. We dig ditches and we plant seeds in anticipation of the move of God which will ultimately bring the increase. At times this labor is tedious. When you have had your hands on the plow in a place your heart runs wild, it is hard to step back into the mundane tasks and routines that you know are necessary, but that try your patience, test your mettle, and gnaw at your flesh. 


Tonight on an African mountain top unmarked by anyone in particular, there is a village - a people - crying out for the Light Of Men to keep their fires burning and warm them through the night's rains. But this isn't their loudest cry. They have encountered the living God. They have met their Lord. Jesus has walked among them. We've heard them cry out for more. We've seen the needs of their fleshly bodies and hungered with them for so much more than a meal or shelter or wealth.

So dig ditches, we will. Dig until our hands bleed and our backs ache and our flesh screams to be pampered and fed and to - even for a moment - dignify itself first. And then we will dig deeper so that the Lord might have every bit of all we have and the foundation can be laid for The Kingdom being established on an African mountaintop. And we will cry out. Together we will cry out and glorify the Lord.

“The God who made the world and all things in it, since He is Lord of heaven and earth, does not dwell in temples made with hands, nor is He served by human hands, as though He needed anything, since He Himself gives to all people life and breath and all things and He made from one man every nation of mankind to live on all the face of the earth, having determined their appointed times and the boundaries of their habitation, that they would seek God, if perhaps they might grope for Him and find Him, though He is not far from each one of us; for in Him we live and move and exist, as even some of your own poets have said, ‘For we also are His children.’       Acts 17:24-28 NASB

-John Garrett & Family




TO DONATE (Checks or money orders; PayPal coming soon!):


TEAM
Touching Nations Today, Inc.
19387 Hidden Oaks Dr.
Brooksville, FL 34604
"200 Team" in memo


Garrett Family
Touching Nations Today, Inc.
19387 Hidden Oaks Dr.
Brooksville, FL 34604
"3068 Garrett" in memo
@Africanjohnny on twitter
YouTube: "VisionTANZANIA.avi"
facebook: John Nikki Gaudiosi-Garrett
facebook: Touching Nations Today

ADMINISTRATIVE CHANGES

ATTENTION ALL READERS!

Our contact and giving information has changed. Please see the update below if you would like to contact us personally, forward our information, or consider partnering with our ministry.
In moving forward, there will be some KEY CHANGES we want you to know of:

1. Our email address will be changing to AfricanFive@gmail.com and soon also AfricanFive@touchingnationstoday.org. You will receive a bunch of things from that new address shortly after this email.

2. Our administrative covering will be shifting from Overland Missions to Touching Nations Today. Our time under Overland was one of great growth and we look forward to still working together closely in Tanzania. Touching Nations Today (TNT) has covered the Mirabellas (our team) for some time and for reasons of ease and continuity we will move forward under TNT for now. A special thanks to Phil and Sharon Smethurst and to the entire overland Team for all they have poured out for us in the past year. 

3. With the change to TNT, some of our giving information has changed, including check writing instructions and contact info. See the end of this email and the giving forms attached to the email we send from AFRICANFIVE@gmail.com.

4. We will be beginning to host most of our stories and testimonies exclusively online in various places, from Facebook to Blogspot.com and others. You can expect a monthly newsletter, as well as occasional reminders and reports, but the majority of our stories will be linked to one of the other sites and all you will have to do is click on them from our email to see them.

5. Visit the Touching Nations Today page on Facebook!

We love you all! If you have questions or need to contact us, or even if you just wanna say hi while we are Stateside, give us a call! 813.486.7632

--
The Garrett Family
813.486.7632
@Africanjohnny on twitter
YouTube: "VisionTANZANIA.avi"
facebook: John Nikki Gaudiosi-Garrett
http://kigomatanzania.blogspot.com

Touching Nations Today, Inc.

19387 Hidden Oaks Drive

Brooksville FL 34604

For giving:

Garrett #3068 in the memo of your check. Direct debit and credit card giving options are available. Call or email for details.