Our Friend Frank

When we got home from Nkhata Bay on Sunday, we found our back yard was transformed.
(The picture to the left shows Ryan Dugan, Matt Meyers, and Frank Kassandah digging out stumps from the 15-some Blue Gum trees we chopped down to make way for our garden. Blue Gum trees drink an excessive amount of water out of the soil and increases the acidity of the soil. We were extremely happy to knock them down.)



Last week, Matt, Molly, and Frank (one of our student workers) picked up a whole truck-load of rice-stalks to provide ground cover for our garden. Before we left for our weekend in Nkhata Bay, the rice-stalks were still in several massive piles outside our bedroom doors. However, when we returned home, the rice-stalks were neatly spread throughout our yard, with small sticks indicating the locations of the holes we had dug for tree-planting, and with the paths, which had been only previously drawn in the sand, now fully realized. When we asked Alick what had happened, he said in a very straightforward way, “Frank did it.”

Apparently Frank spent several hours on Saturday filling in the holes with manure, leveling the ground, spreading the rice-stalks, and making the paths—an incredible gift to us. This was something we had not asked him to do, and this was something he had no need to do; Frank amazes me.

Today, my appreciation of Frank continues to grow.

Matt and I accompanied Frank back to his house for the afternoon. He walked us through Chaminade’s campus, out into the village, and then down roads I had never gone. After about twenty minutes of walking, we veered of the road to find his modest yet beautiful clay house. After Frank changed, leaving us some time to play with his dog Spider, we walked down a winding path through his family’s property. Their land is a beautiful land owned by Frank’s uncle. Frank’s uncle allows Frank and his mom to farm the land, and you can tell they do a good job. We soon met the Lukula River, which cuts right along the edge of their property. Frank watered some of the plants in the garden that rests feet from the river. His mom soon arrived and greeted us in the local language. We could only share a few words, and we all laughed gently at the fact that our genuine efforts to communicate were far too limited. Frank then hacked down several stalks of sugar-cane, and the three of us enjoyed fresh sugar-cane while chatting with one another. The afternoon was a delight, but only mildly so compared to the delight it is to know Frank. Though the afternoon was simple, it was more than I could ask for: a simple sharing of time and friendship.

Matt and Frank have already begun to develop a beautiful friendship, and I hope that I can get to know Frank more. I cannot currently describe Frank in an adequate way, but I can say that he is one of the most modest, humble, hard-working, generous, kind-hearted, and friendly young men I have ever met. Frank is the same age as Matt and I, born just a few months after us. He is still in his third year of secondary school, but I feel that he carries more wisdom and understanding than Matt and I carry together.
This is just a taste of our friend Frank. I think he’s great, and I hope to share more about him in the months and years to come.