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Closer to God
John Moehl
Closer to God
Copyright © 2018 John Moehl. All rights reserved. Except for brief quotations in critical publications or reviews, no part of this book may be reproduced in any manner without prior written permission from the publisher. Write: Permissions, Wipf and Stock Publishers, 199 W. 8th Ave., Suite 3, Eugene, OR 97401.
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199 W. 8th Ave., Suite 3
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paperback isbn: 978-1-5326-1987-8
hardcover isbn: 978-1-5326-1989-2
ebook isbn: 978-1-5326-1988-5
Manufactured in the U.S.A.
Foreword
In my first effort to confront my binary life (Phobos & Deimos: Two Moons, Two Worlds, 2016), I was blazing my trail—clearing the brush, trying to find the way to describe a lifetime divided between two continents. Through this inaugural book, my first endeavor to compose fiction for wider public consumption, I attempted, as an outsider, to look through the eyes of a variety of insiders—people into whose lives I had plummeted, people with different cultures and norms, but a common humanity. I was trying to look closely at the day-to-day activities of others to try and understand better how they themselves adjusted to the unknowns we all find in our paths.
The present text is still very much a part of my double life; this time, attempting to look through the eyes of another foreigner who, like myself, is an incomer, but whose mission and expectations are very different from mine. This work is fictitious, albeit some of the geographic features are those of Central Africa. The individuals, institutions, and settings of the characters, as well as their actions, are all fictitious—an amalgam of my time working in this region in the 1980s—and any seeming relationships with or references to persons living or dead, or institutions, past or present, is purely coincidental.
For both of these writings, and for all aspects of my life, I have relied heavily on the guidance and insight of my wife of four-plus decades. She has helped me see life through a unique and highly sensitive lens, understanding others’ joys and sorrows, and respecting others’ individuality. She has cautioned me to watch where I stepped, as I have sometimes catapulted along life’s path, having far too often dragged her through the brambles. In the face of many sacrifices, she has always been my touchstone and it is with love and profound gratitude that I dedicate this, and all that I do, to Elisabeth.
Acknowledgments
With Elisabeth at the heart of my efforts, there are many who should be acknowledged for their contribution to this work. The people of Central Africa, the Land of Eternal Spring, have left an indelible imprint on my life—a mosaic built layer by layer during the five years we lived and worked in this beautiful and troubled piece of a beautiful and troubled world. The farmer, the fisher, the shopkeeper, the barman, the taxi driver, the student, the teacher, the priest, and so many others lived, and often shared their lives with me in ways that were at once unique to the Afromontane Region and common to global civilization. Through them and their generosity, I have learned so much and can only hope that my presence may have, in some small way, made a tiny down payment on all the knowledge and hoped-for wisdom I have gained. I would also like to offer special thanks to Marie for her help with this text—she so unselfishly offered assistance and ended up providing much more in terms of guidance and a common sense approach to the challenges of getting words down on paper. My thanks are also extended to Nancy who worked hard to polish an imperfect product.
From the hilltop
The scent of eucalyptus and cypress mix with wood smoke to perfume the morning air.
Long-handled hoes slung lightly over sinewy shoulders, men and women deftly head for steep, rocky fields.
The lilting song of school children echoes off the hills—carried on the breeze with the harsh caw of a peevish pied crow.
Down the palisade’s path, four stout youth, carrying an ailing veteran on a papyrus stretcher, add their chants to the morning melody to lighten their load.
The fertile valleys, crops of cabbage and beans peering from the rich soil, are still cloaked in the mist, seemingly rising from the morning dew.
Long-horned cattle, with their sheep stewards, head down pitched trails, leaving their corrals for morning pasture under the watchful eye of a family son.
The fresh air seems to vibrate, as if in anticipation of a momentous event—in the mountains, valleys, and perpetual spring, the day begins.
Author’s Note
Central Africa is the setting for this tale. This should not be confused with the Central African Republic—at one time, the Central African Empire. The Central African area described in the following writings is a high-elevation undulating terrain, alternating between populated hills (collines) and cultivated marshy valleys (marais). This terrain, just south of the equator (1° to 5° south latitude), some of the most heavily populated in Africa, is the source for the great Congo and Nile Rivers. This land is also the home of Lakes Kivu and Tanganyika; hence, at times referred to as the Great Lakes Region. Casting a wide net, this area encompasses present-day Congo (Zaïre), Burundi, Rwanda, Tanzania, and Zambia; historically, these countries have had Belgian, English, and/or German colonial rule. The epicenter, the focus of this text, is the former German Colony of Ruanda-Rundi; foreign control of these lands was assumed by Belgium in 1916, and lasted until 1962 when the independent countries of Burundi and Rwanda were established—each circumscribing kingdoms dating back to at least the 15th century.
Our protagonist, Michel van Leuven, a son of Flanders, Belgium, came to this region as a young man after Independence. At the time, 250 km to the east, Bob Denard and Jean Schramme, accompanied by other mercenaries and Katanga separatists, were engulfed in a bloody battle in Bukavu (Democratic Republic of Congo) with Mobutu Sese Seko Kuku Ngbendu (born Joseph-Désiré Mobutu). Mobutu had taken power two years earlier and would remain as head of state for another three decades of what had been the Belgian Congo. However, the affairs of what was once King Leopold’s private domain are another story. At this juncture, our target is a now more mature and worldly Michel van Leuven who has traded the industries along with the barley and beet fields of Belgium for the hills and valleys of Central Africa.
Prologue
Rift Valley Gazette, Nairobi, 9 November 1994
Great lakes region. A Belgian monk, transporting potatoes for his religious community in the south of the country, is reported to have saved the lives of eleven women and children. First-hand accounts indicate the monk, when stopped at a militia checkpoint 26 km from the Nyabugogo River, saw a mob violently attack the villagers, assailing them with ethnic slurs. He drove his pickup into the midst of the aggressors, offering them the load of potatoes in exchange for the safe passage of the women and children. The hungry throng agreed, and
