Peter Brubaker, Franconia
I met a friend named Samuel Loupe in Asuncion, Paraguay. The funny thing is that he is not from Asuncion, or from Paraguay, or even from South America. He does not speak conversational English, and he does not speak Spanish…so verbal communication between us was not very successful. He and I did not have any mutual friends, and had no particular reason to meet each other except for the fact that God put us in the same dormitory building during the week of “Congreso Mundial Menonita (Mennonite World Conference) 2009 en Asuncion, Paraguay.”
This is how I met him…
Each morning, everyone from the dormitory (called Comite Olimpico, it was normally used as a facility for various sports teams) would meander down to the dining hall for breakfast. It was most natural to sit with my group of American youth and young adult friends that I was traveling with, but I was there at the conference to meet new people. When this smiling African man pointed to the chair beside me and said something or another, I made sure to welcome him to the table, speaking in English or Spanish, and passing him some bread and jam. We spent a bit of time introducing ourselves and trying to figure out which language worked the best between us. This mostly consisted of showing each other our name tags, which had our country of origin and primary language, Samuel Loupe was from Congo-Brazzaville and spoke French.
Of course, it was about this time that I was starting to realize the full extent of my limited ability to communicate at this world conference, even though I am somewhat fluent in the Spanish language. I was thankful for an English-speaking Canadian that was able to fill me in on some of the history of the two Congo nations (The Republic of Congo and the Democratic Republic of Congo), since he had been a missionary there for several years.
Samuel and I went through the week being friends on a mostly non-verbal basis, and I politely wrote down my email address in his little contact book even though, I hate to admit, I didn’t think we would ever write to each other. At the end of the week, as folks who stayed in El Comite Olimpico were saying goodbye, Samuel gave me a gift. I smiled and thanked him very much for the gift, saying that I was sorry I didn’t have anything to give him in return.
But as I came to full realization of what he had given me, I was left wondering what exactly it was, and, unfortunately, feeling slightly annoyed that I would have to carry this thing around in my baggage through all of the six remaining flights on my trip. I showed my friends, and nobody could figure out exactly what this wicker-basket-like-vase-thing-with-a-round-bottom was supposed to be used for. I started calling it my “useless vase.” I had even joked that I was going to leave it somewhere in Peru.
However, the closer and closer I got to home with it, and the more times I told people about my “useless vase” (since I often carried it in my hand rather than putting it in my luggage, where it might get crushed), the more I came to realize how much purpose this gift had really been given. This gift symbolized a connection that we have with our brothers and sisters in Christ that are scattered all over the world, with different skin color, different cultures, and different languages. Just because I can’t understand somebody does not mean that God does not speak to them, and it does not mean that we cannot be literal friends.
After being home in Pennsylvania for a few weeks, I was surprised to receive an email from Samuel! I am not exactly sure how, but we have been able to exchange a few emails in English since then, and I would like to pass on his prayer requests for his church in their fight against sexual violence, as well as their plans to build a new chapel.
“…I do the course of english and if God let, the day where we will be togather again, we will speak a lot in the lively voice..” – Samuel Loupe, in an email written to me.
May God continue to use the useless vase!
The opinions expressed in articles posted on Mosaic’s website are those of the author and may not reflect the official policy of Mosaic Conference. Mosaic is a large conference, crossing ethnicities, geographies, generations, theologies, and politics. Each person can only speak for themselves; no one can represent “the conference.” May God give us the grace to hear what the Spirit is speaking to us through people with whom we disagree and the humility and courage to love one another even when those disagreements can’t be bridged.
Peter! My mom forwarded this article to me because she remembered us talking about the “useless vase”. This was a great article that truly articulated the cultural and language differences that we experienced in South America. Thank you so much for sharing and I’m glad I still have some ties to Franconia Conference so I was able to see this article.
Renee (and Jason)