In letter
25 I told you about the surprising turnaround in the school’s
food supply. We have delivered two more truck-loads of cabbage
to the hospital and the prison, and the school council decided
to waive 30 percent of the boarding fee for the final term this
year, thus passing on to working families the cyclone relief from
China.
I also mentioned the current political situation in my last letter.
There was a motion of no confidence filed against the new prime
minister, but he turned around and offered the position of deputy
prime minister to the leader of the opposition, who then dropped
the no confidence motion and joined the government. He brought
more members of parliament with him than the original deputy prime
minister, upset at the withdrawal of the position, took away when
he defected to the opposition, so it now looks as though we have
a government that might actually last more than a couple of months.
The prime minister has ordered the national radio station to get
government approval before reporting any news about politics.
In the meantime, in reaction to the prime minister’s statement
against expatriates a few weeks ago, there are now small shops
in Vila selling T-shirts that read “Stupid White Man.”
I was expected to travel to the island of Malekula for the church
annual meeting, but it didn’t feel good to leave Lora and
the girls alone here on the campus, which was virtually deserted
for a two-week school break, in this uncertain political climate.
With a government that is vocally anti-Presbyterian and anti-expatriate,
and violence against expatriates on the rise both in Vila and
in rural areas, I decided to stay here. I made sure that the neighboring
villages knew that I had cancelled the trip, and we have had no
problems. This is the first time that we have ever felt unsafe
in Vanuatu, not counting such things as cyclones and mosquitoes
that just go with the territory, and it’s unsettling. It
strikes me that many women around the world feel vulnerable like
this all the time, limited in where they go and what they do by
the fear that surrounds them. For us, then, this unusual period
of uncertainty is a good lesson about how a lot of the world feels
most of the time.
This letter has traced a strange path, from generosity and unexpected
peace to unrest and unexpected fear. I think that we can learn
from both. I encourage each of you to think about your own community
this month. Who feels protected, and who does not? How do we extend
our generosity, maybe by reaching out to those we don’t
normally talk to, and help curtail the fear that keeps many captive
in their own homes? How can we help the intimidated laugh at the
powerful and claim their rightful inheritance, the free pursuit
of happiness, unhampered by vague (or not so vague) threats?
My daughter, Bridget, has been active in supporting a campaign
for safety, particularly for women, in Missoula, Montana. It’s
called “Take Back the Night.” That’s a nice
slogan, because it defines the feeling of vulnerability accurately,
as though something has been stolen from our communities. There
are some of us who have never experienced the sweet taste of safety.
It’s been stolen from our lives. Let’s take it back.
Love and peace,
Bruce
The 2004 Mission Yearbook for Prayer & Study, p.
101
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