we are not professional designers and concepts like Corporate Design do not go all that well with a personal ... Seasona
EnRoute No 16
February 2008
A New Year – A New Layout With the new year came the resolutions: 126.7; Cessna 172; GIFN; over the town things ought to be done better than beof Three Hills; six thousand feet; VFR; ENROUTE to Red Deer; GIFN" This newsfore. That's why we sat down and reconletter should serve a similar purpose: it sidered the concept of our newsletter. should give our current position, how The result is now in front of you. Granted, we are doing and the next steps on our we are not professional designers and flight into the future. concepts like Corporate Design do not Next we made some changes to the go all that well with a personal newslayout. We letter. Nevaimed for ertheless, a clearer there were structure some asthat sepapects that rates difseemed ferent arimportant ticles and to us. makes it The new timore obtle is probvious who ably the w r o t e first thing them. you'll noFinally, we tice. It will will ennot be rich the long and contents "Canada Seasonal Greetings from Saint Niklas with a News" is new column. Our being in Canada for not appropriate any more. By the end three years makes people forget why of 2009 we will return to Switzerland just we came here in the first place. We to leave for our assigned destination in think it is important that you get a good 2010. Therefore, we were looking for a picture of the work we are training for. title that can remain the same as we Since we are not able to write about move on. In aviation "enroute" is the the daily life of a missionary pilot yet, portion of the flight between take-off we will borrow the voice of one gone and landing. To avoid conflicts with before us. His contributions will be printother planes periodic position reports ed in the form of a sequel. mar are broadcasted: "Traffic advisory on
Family Traditions and Christmas Turkey My mother used to buy the first Chinese mandarines of the year on St. Nicholas Day (December 6), for Good Friday we used to have fish, and for Ascension Day we were looking forward to having braided Swiss bread (Zopf) with butter and honey. These were only some of the (culinary) traditions of my family and as a child I could hardly wait for those events. Thus, I decided to introduce some traditions into our new family as well, and started, fittingly, on St. Nicholas Day. With the three other Swiss students who are currently enrolled at the college, we enjoyed a brunch with Grittibänz (Swiss bread), non-salted butter (as we would have it back home), real Swiss honey (imported by my mother) and Greyerzer cheese, which is one of the few Swiss cheeses one can get here in Canada. A couple of days later, I started to bake Christmas cookies. This year it took my little helper and me double the time to
make half the cookies I used to bake in previous years – without his help. Niklas got a chair and placed it next to me at the kitchen counter. After he had observed my every move for a while, he bravely took over cookie cutter and palette-knife and started to do the task himself – with the effect that I had to start all over again. For Christmas Eve, armed with my relatives' traditional Christmas Dinner recipe, I prepared a honey-glazed ham, braided Swiss bread and a variety of salads for us and our Swiss guests. It resembled the way we had celebrated many Christmases back home. Finally, we concluded the day together with our neighbors by singing Christmas chorals and eating Christmas cookies in front of our real! Christmas tree. Christmas Day we celebrated the Canadian way with a lot! of turkey. After a traditional turkey luncheon at our friends house and a sociable afternoon
But God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us. (Romans 5:8) ≥ What happened in Kenya during the last months got me thinking. In the past, this country exemplified that the African continent can advance and prosper. The newly erupted violence, however, reminded me that man is – and will remain – corrupted. Certainly, election fraud is serious business and should not be tolerated by any people, but hunting each other down with machetes is not really a solution. The killing in Kenya reveals that when wronged man is prone to uncaringly inflict pain to others. Mind you, this is also true for citizens of "civilised" countries as shown in the prison scandals of the American military in Afghanistan, Iraq, and Guantanamo. Man is corrupted. Love renders acts like those done in Kenya impossible. Love can not massacre other people. On the contrary: caring people help the victims of violence and injustice and bring the culprit to justice. Love cares for the wellbeing of the other, love is public spirited. Love offers a way out of corruption. The Christian values of the Western countries give love a special significance. But is this a reason to be proud? I realised that my love for others is often tied to conditions and is rarely unselfish. I use it to show others that I am better; I seek appreciation and admiration for what I do; I require thankfulness and humility from the beneficiaries. Man remains corrupted. True love, however, is unconditional. It does not ask if anybody sees my good deeds. It helps even if no thankfulness is received. It gives against all odds. It loves even if it is hated in return. Only unconditional love – God's love – can heal man's corruption. mar with "the settlers of catan", my neighbor and her family invited us to join them for a turkey supper. Well, all good things come in threes: Boxing Day we were invited for turkey curry – in the meantime, our own two turkeys are still waiting in the freezer. The End of the Year we celebrated by watching the fireworks in Trochu, our neighboring village, and went to bed shortly after midnight, well aware that our babbling alarm clock would wake us up very reliably between 6:30 and 7:00 am. mad
No 16
February 2008
What is Missionary Aviation? It’s hot, it’s tiring, it’s a foreign landscape unfolding before you at a hundred and fifty miles per hour. It’s noise and vibration, a heavy load and an aching back from loading it. It’s dusty and turbulent. It’s wrinkled maps and a bag lunch under the seat, a missionary family asleep in the back, exhausted but tranquilized by the cool air at ten thousand feet. It’s realizing that you carry these precious servants of God in your airplane, that you are a lifeline to them, spanning the void between their place of calling and the rest of civilization. It’s a tiny airstrip carved out of the open Savannah, Zebra grazing nonchalantly on your runway, a Land Rover in the distance making it’s way to this place where the sky touches earth, the missionaries anticipating your landing, waiting and waving as you taxi in. It’s being expected and appreciated. It’s being the answer to a prayer, the bearer of mail and good news, or the bringer of a life saving drug or a needed load of supplies. It’s witnessing a tearful reunion of parents with their kids who reside at a boarding school some 400 miles away. It’s a tearful good-bye, a worried prayer over a sick and delusional African friend needing a hospital and this ambulance with wings. It’s about being a professional in the pilot’s seat, imposing Western standards of time and safety on another culture. It’s about being a servant to the “least of these,” discarding the cultural stereotype of machoism often associated with flying. It’s pulling the gold bars off your shoulders and spending some time on your knees, under a truck, in a ditch, or at the side of a filthy child. It’s about flying and fixing airplanes, mastering them and making them useful tools. And it’s about opening your heart to things beyond your control - being, at times, afraid or discouraged. It is tedious work, sharing in the hardships of the missionaries who make your job look easy. It’s realizing that you have a part in their triumphs too, seeing the glory of God where you might least expect it. It’s all the adventure of Africa, all the thrills of flying, all the frustration of the third world, all the camaraderie of a military platoon, all the grace of the Church, and all the joy of serving. It’s about being a missionary… who happens to be a pilot or mechanic. It’s about being a servant to other servants. It’s a great job. Mike Delorenzo works as a missionary pilot with AIM Air (Africa Inland Mission) in Nairobi, Kenya. His writings, read to us at the airport by an instructor who had worked with him for several years, struck a special cord. Mike writes about his experience, impression, and insight as a pilot working in a country we could very well be sent to. The texts are taken from his personal website at www.delorenzoflyer.com
EnRoute
Canadian Winter At the beginning of January, winter hit with of Markus' co-workers, mutreal coldness. With temperatures at 49˚C betered that according to low zero we were reminded to stay inside in airport policy they would order to protect ourselves from frostbite. When cancel flying at -25˚C. temperatures hit -30˚C the rule is that school However, because it is a buses do not run anymore. The danger of dry cold we battle, it does children being harmed if the bus broke down not feel as cold as it may or had an accident is just too great. For the "town kids" who live close to the school, nothing changes as they have to go to school anyway. The "country kids", however, stay home. This is not unusual and happened several times during previous winters. What was new Christmas at Bischoff's this past January was that the school was closed completely sound. With several layers for two days because of the extreme cold. of clothing, a headband, In light of those measures, my running partner toque, and a face masque and I were forced to decide on our own temit felt comfortably warm, perature limit. We finally agreed that, like the though I could hardly see school buses, we should not be running at because my breathing 30˚C anymore. One night it is was quite close caused my eyelashes to to our set limit with -28˚C. So, when I went to freeze. mad pick up my running partner, her husband, one
What happened in the meantime At this place, we would like to apologize for not having translated our last newsletter – time was just flying by. Let me recapitulate what happened since our last letter in August. We spent an exciting but fully packed holiday in Switzerland. On August 1st we celebrated the Swiss National Day with traditional barbecue, lampions and fireworks, and two days later, on August 3rd, it was Niklas’ birthday. Additionally, we had a dedication service for Niklas, and were pampered with beautiful summer weather to celebrate my mother-inlaw’s 60th birthday. In the remaining time we tried to meet as many of our friends as possible, but of course our list was longer than the days we stayed. After returning to Canada on September 2nd, Markus started his job as a flight instructor at Prairie and I myself was busy completing my correspondence course in Communicating Christ Cross-Culturally. I was thankful to having received an extension until the end of October because time was literally flying by: the reading and writing was too extensive to be done in the short time while Niklas was napping. To make matters worse, our moving to a bigger apartment fell exactly into that time. Unfortunately, the new place was so dirty that we first had to clean it before we were Page 2
able to move our stuff. Consequently, I ended up having to clean two apartments and trying to get my course done. Thus, it did not seem peculiar to feel totally exhausted but when morning sickness – lasting all day – hit me, there was no doubt anymore – our family is growing and by mid May, there will be four of us. mad
Our Current Address: Madeleine & Markus Bischoff PO Box 1382 Three Hills, AB T0M 2A0, Canada Contact in Switzerland: Karin & Daniel Wolf Bantigerweg 8 CH-3033 Jegenstorf Financial Support: Schweizerische Missions-Gemeinschaft CH-8700 Küsnacht Post Account 80-42881-3 Note «For Bischoff»
