A Week in the Life of an Umuzungu



My desk... yes, I have a chair too.

Monday: walk to work, work from 8am to 12:30pm, eat lunch at a nearby buffet of traditional African cuisine, work from 1:30 to 5pm, walk home from work, rest until 7:15, Quiz Night at a local pizzeria, read, and go to bed.

Tuesday: walk to work, work from 8am to 12:30pm, eat lunch at the same cheap and convenient buffet, work from 1:30 to 5pm, walk home from work, rest until sundown, workout, eat dinner, read, and go to bed.

Wednesday: early morning men's Bible study, get a ride to work from my boss, work until lunch, ask around to see if anybody is getting lunch somewhere other than the buffet, work until 5pm, walk home, play volleyball with some locals, eat dinner, read, and go to bed.

The buffet you hate to love

Thursday: walk to work, work until lunch, pray for anything else other than the buffet, work until I have to walk home, work out, eat dinner, rest, happy hour at the Milles Collines Hotel, keep hanging out with people from the happy hour, back home to sleep.




Friday: take the walk, work, hoping I can catch the buffet next door just to make sure I'm sick of it, keep working, play volleyball with the same locals as on Wednesday, shower (apparently the first one all week), eat dinner, watch a movie, and go to bed.


Saturday: eat my standard three donuts at the local bagel shop, go for a run to work off said donuts, wait around until something crazy comes up


Sunday: walk to a local coffee shop for journaling/devotions while sipping on an iced mocha (don't worry, I'm still not a coffee drinker), catch up on emails, write a blog entry, brunch buffet and swimming at the Milles Collines OR ultimate frisbee with the Brits OR volleyball with the Germans, shower, watch a movie, and do it all over again.


I should mention that my weekend plans are only by default in case an opportunity for an adventure does not present itself; however, it's got to be a darn good adventure to make me miss out on donuts.

Battles Won in God's Army

Another busy week behind.  Another busy week ahead.  I'm still only scratching the surface.

The day's end as viewed from my bedroom window



Although my work has yet to produce much fruit, and it may not while I'm here, it has been a very fruitful week for IJM-Rwanda.  Two cases were brought to trial, both of which the defendant plead guilty. The two girls, currently young mothers as a result of the rapes, can now make great strides in the healing and rehabilitation process.  In the face of such evil, there is Justice.  Amidst such despair, there is Hope. Despite overwhelming callousness, there is Love. There is a God, one God, who fights for the poor and oppressed, and He uses us as His warriors. Praise God for such a tangible victory!

Another miracle witnessed this last week was the signing of a Memorandum of Understanding between IJM and the NPPA (National Public Prosecution Authority).  I claim such an event as a miracle because of the odds that stood against IJM in this process.  Although I can not go into details, know that God truly revealed His power in this signing process.  This MOU gives IJM official credibility bestowed by the government, it will allow IJM to work more efficiently in investigating cases of child sexual abuse, and there will be a stronger partnership with the government now than in years past.  Praise God for such a tangible victory!

Amidst the excitement, I remain busy behind my humble desk.  I'm currently working on two projects while offering my advice in a third and juggling daily meetings. My first project is a report writing training for all staff who are involved in report writing.  As I brought up the suggestion for a training as a result of my observance of some areas of improvement, I was tasked with the organization, presentation, and implementation of such training.  Although daunting, I'm excited to have a positive impact on something as important, but often overlooked, as the investigative reports.  My second project is a high profile case involving child sexual abuse.  Unfortunately, that is all I am able to disclose due to the nature of the case and that it is still under investigation.  Please pray for guidance, wisdom, and humility as I pursue both of these projects.

Other than that, and a cameo on the Rwandan National News channel, all is quiet on the African front.  Yes, that's right: I was on TV in Rwanda.  As I was sitting in a crowded court room, waiting for IJM's case to be heard, another high profile case was taking place.  I happen to be in the audience as the news camera swept the room.  I'm not sure what was said, but they must have thought I was there representing the Italian businessmen the case was against... a large amount of money being withheld from a large amount of people.  Typical Italians.  On the positive side, my celebrity status doesn't leave much room for competition since I was the only white person there.

Solitude and Silence

Getting out of LA was the goal.  I often tell of how there's too much concrete, too much traffic, not enough trees, and no easy escapes to the outdoors.  That's all true, but there's more.  There's more to why I know I needed to leave.  I was comfortable and stuck.  I knew that I had built up so many comfortable distractions that I could not draw close to God.  I was good at my job.  I had a steady paycheck.  I had my own apartment.  I had a nice motorcycle and a goofy car.  I had a big TV, a blue-ray player, and a Wii.  I had money to save.  I had money to spend.  No challenges.  No commitments.  I had surrounded myself with innocent, even good, things.  However, they filled my life leaving no room, rather, no desire to make room, for God or His work.  I was fully aware of the world I created.  I was even fully aware of the eventual destruction.  Radical life change was not the only answer, but I believe it was the best answer.


As I searched for opportunities, God provided the best one:  total abandonment of what I had created.  I kept praying, "Here I am Lord, send me,"  and He did, to a world unlike my own, to a continent I have never desired to go to (in fact, avoided), to a life dependent on Him.  I quit my job.  I left my apartment. I spent my savings.  I even gave up, although temporarily, that nice motorcycle and goofy car.  I tell you this not to give you reason to sign up for the Anthony Angelo Fan Club, but to provide context of the journey I needed, even longed for.  The journey that I am now realizing has much more in store for me than I ever imagined.


Lesson of the Week:  solitude and silence.  The first full week of work has been quite challenging and fruitful.  Every day, it is IJM's SOP (standard operating procedure) to provide the first thirty minutes of the work day in "stillness" - a time set apart to quite our hearts, and let God takes the reigns.  No talking.  No journaling.  No reading.  Not even praying.  A time to listen to the whispers of the Almighty.  A time to recognize Who is at work.  A time to understand the necessity of letting go.  How challenging this has been!  Although I am a relatively quite individual, I've never been the one to sit still very long.  But I'm here, and this is part of why I'm here, so buckle-up.  Sitting still is one challenge, clearing my mind is another, lasting the whole thirty minuets without looking at a clock is yet another.  I still have plenty of room for improvement in all of these areas, but just one week of beginning each day with solitude and silence has increased my desire for God and decreased my desire for myself.  

Villagers take the long, tiring, daily journey to get water

There is a long journey ahead of me, both in seeking justice for the poor and oppressed in Rwanda and reclaiming my heart to God.  It's not an easy road.  It's not a short road.  But it's a necessary road...  a road full of fear, challenges, and tears... a road that leads to life and life abundantly.

First Week

Coming to the end of my first week, it has been a whirlwind to say the least.  It’s like I was thrown into the deep end of the pool, expecting to know how to swim.  Okay, it’s not that bad; I can at least touch the bottom while standing on my tip-toes.

It definitely feels worse than it is.  This is my first experience living overseas, and there’s a huge difference between this and just touring/visiting on a short-term bases.  I feel as if I’ve moved here permanently, leaving everything I know and love behind.

The view over the valley while ascending Mount Kabuye

My first week: finding (still looking) a house to live in, figuring out how to navigate through a city with no street signs or names, budgeting my money in a foreign currency, eating local cuisine, eating non-local cuisine done in a local way, meeting Rwandans, meeting Americans, meeting Germans, hiking Mount Kabuye, being followed by a group of little kids who kept asking for money while hiking Mount Kabuye, talking with my boss about what my role is, talking with my boss’ son about legos, blowing the fuse in my converter, frying my surge protector... figuring out new life in a strange land.

It is a lot harder than I thought it would be.  Reflecting on this past week, I’ve been shown more areas in my life where God is at work.  It’s as if He is telling me, “This is not just another one of your adventures.  It will be hard.  This is not a vacation.  I have you here for a divine reason.  I am using you to help accomplish My goals.  There are real, evil powers at work against you so that you don’t accomplish the work I have for you.  You will feel as if there is no hope.  You will feel as if it will never end.  But, do not fear, your hope is in Me.”

A wise woman told me a quote by John A. Shedd: “A ship is safer in the harbor, but that’s not what ships are built for.”  God’s work is dangerous.  It’s a danger I never truly respected, and, therefore, for which I never truly prepared.  Yet, here I am, in the midst of not necessarily physical danger, well, not any more than the streets of Los Angeles, but of spiritual danger.  A danger that is just as real, just as pervasive, but vastly more crippling.  Here I am, a ship without a harbor in sight.

Enroute to God Knows What

In a matter of days I'll be leaving for Rwanda.  Hopefully, as my days increase there, I'll be able to finally answer all those pertinent questions (if you've had any conversation with me about what I'm doing, you understand).

Where will you live?

Who will you be working with?

How will you get around?

Will you have internet?

Is it safe?

What will you be doing?

Are you going to raise enough money?

Are you going to be eaten by a gorilla?
Why is the sky blue?

When can I come and visit you?

It's almost comical as I attempt to answer questions, often repeating the phrase, "I don't know."  Yet, as I have prepared for this journey, I've settled on the idea, rather fact, that I am on a need-to-know basis with God.  It is true that I do not know a lot of what is considered common knowledge before any trip.  However, here is what I do know:  I know where I am going,  I know Who is sending me, and I know I am not alone.


Do not let this create some kind of image of me that involves unshakeable faith and immovable courage. As my departure date draws close, I am growing more and more nervous.  However, it's not the unanswered questions that give root to my anxiety.  Rather, it is the answered ones.  I am going on a mission set out by a God I do not see, to a land I do not know, with money I do not have.


There is ample room for fear and doubt.  The temptation to fill the void with common reactions to the unknown is strong, and I do not think anyone would blink an eye if those temptations gave way to action, but that same amount of room is also available to faith and surrender.  There is opportunity before me to not only help bring justice to Rwanda, but also to allow God to strengthen my faith - faith that He will provide.  This is not an easy lesson learned, at least not by me, as God has been teaching me this lesson since I have been aware of His existence.  So here I am again: me, the worried student and Christ, the perfect teacher.

What is a Life Worth?

Imagine a 4-year old girl playing outside when a neighbor grabs her, kidnaps her, and rapes her.  Devastating.  Now imagine an arrest is made, but some of the rapist's allies threaten to kill the girl's father if the charges are not dropped.  They even pressure the police to release the rapist, resulting in freedom for a dangerous man who committed a heinous crime.  Imagine the despair - a despair that is paralyzing.

This is exactly what I'll be up against in Rwanda.  There's a need for someone to answer to the cries of help of countless little girls who are experiencing injustice, and I have the opportunity to meet it.  In fact, you have the opportunity to meet it.  IJM and I need your help, and we need your help in two critical ways:

Prayer - God hates injustice, and God's people is His plan to stop it.  Without Him, there is 

              no hope.

Donations - There are victims to rescue, I am willing to go and have the skill set to be 

                    successful, but I need the finances to get there.

What do you think she was crying out for when she was being raped?  Food?  Shelter?  What about when she later saw the rapist walking the streets as a free man while her father's life rests in the perp's hands?  Did she want clothes or clean water?  Not likely.  She wanted someone to rescue her, someone to stop the violence and pain, someone to bring justice and freedom.  If you're not safe, nothing else matters.

What is it worth to you save this girl's life?  What about any other girl, or what about the 4-year old that you know?  What is it worth to you to save THAT girl?

1 minute of prayer or 1 hour of prayer?

1 day of your life or 1 year of your life?

$100 donation or $1,000 donation?

This past week in DC for training has only increased my passion and excitement to help bring justice to the poor and oppressed in Rwanda.  There are a lot of fears and anxieties that come with this endeavor.  However, I know God is going with me, and you can be apart of it.  Please prayerfully consider your involvement.  Then act.  That's it.  Just do something.  That is all God wants from you.  There's no minimum limit of what you have to do.  Just doing something, one simple act against injustice, is an act that helps eliminate injustice.  Check out IJM's website or post to this blog to learn more.

God's Wrecking Ball

First phase of my journey: moving out of LA.

I took a road-trip over a thousand miles and four days in a Uhaul, pulling a trailer, with my girlfriend riding shotgun as a sort of "commencement ceremony" to this next year of life.  Besides being costly and time-consuming, it could not have been better.  Making several stops to visit dear friends along the way, we finally made it to the Couve.  Over the next several weeks, I'll be visiting family and friends and doing a little bit of traveling in between.  Although hectic, I look forward to what each new week will bring.

God has not wasted time in preparing me for this next year.  Already, He is at work with His wrecking ball.  Five years in LA meant five years of financial security, five years of every insurance you could think of, five years of a fully stocked cereal shelf, and five years of building up walls of comfort.  I greatly underestimated the affect that not having these comforts would have on me.  To be completely honest, it has taken up a lot of mental real estate, and it shouldn't.


I've been talking the talk of "discomfort" for a while.  I know God does not call me, nor anyone, to a life of comfort.  It's not something for which we should strive.  It's not something for which we should pray. Rather, we should strive for the mission.  We should pray for the mission.  We are all called to a mission, and whether we accept it or not is the difference between warriors and peasants.  It could be a mission of evangelism.  It could be a mission of pastoring.  It could be a mission of parenting.  It could be a mission of learning.  It could be a mission of laboring.  Either way, it's a mission, with a call, waiting for an answer.


My mission this next year is one of justice: to pursue it, deliver it, and promote it.  It's one of leaving my family and friends.  It's one of abandoning a lifestyle.  It's one of entering a world unknown to me.  It's one of discomfort.


It's also one not to be taken alone.  Not one mission is meant as a solo endeavor.  Although there's only one seat being filled on that airplane at the end of June, there's an army of warriors staying on the ground praying, supporting, donating.  That's exactly your role.  That's exactly what I need.  Please join me in this mission through prayer, support, and donations.