My Journey with First Peoples of North America

I thought before I talk about all that is going to happen in Africa, I should tell you how I began working with the ministry that is taking me there.

In the summer of 2003 in Homer, Alaska I was videotaping a First Nations or (North American Indian) ministry called 120 Drums of Thunder. I had been introduced to this ministry by my Uncle. In that first summer, I arrived thinking I was coming to Homer to video tape a drum festival that my uncle wanted me to document. In Homer there is a small strip of land they call The Spit, which extends out into the bay where in days of old traditional activities uses to take place. It was there that the 120 Drums held a gathering of all the First Nation People of the area.

What I was about to witness was an event that would change my life. I saw native people in their traditional regalia praising the Creator God with dances, songs and many stories and testimonies. All honour was given to Jesus Christ, God’s Son, throughout the entire gathering. I first witnessed the acts of protocol in which a long process of honouring and giving gifts melted many hard hearts. I saw many people with much anger towards the white people for past wrongs that had been done to the native people in the present as well as many generations ago. As I witnessed the restitution ceremonies I saw white people asking for forgiveness for the racism in their own heart as well as asking for forgiveness for sins committed long ago by past generations. This gripped my heart and as I was videotaping all of it I found myself weeping as I praised God for what was happening.

Many of these wrongs that had been committed I didn’t understand or had never heard of. But watching the native people react to the local pastors and communities asking forgiveness it became very apparent that the Holy Spirit was working mightily in this gathering. I saw very stoic elders and chiefs break down and cry as if released from some sort of bondage. Then after forgiveness was asked gifts were exchanged between all groups and a spirit of freeing was released. That is when the drums were released. 120 drums were given to anyone who could hold one and everyone joined in and praised God together. It was something to see, every color, creed and nation was drumming as the many native people danced in beautiful regalia around a huge Abba drum in the center. After a bit of singing and dancing a huge feast of Alaskan deliciousness like salmon and moose were served.

That is also when I witnessed an amazing tradition of elder honouring. Many native elders had made the journey to come and see this event. The elders were sat down in chairs first and served by both the native youth and the white people whom had just asked for forgiveness. It was an amazing act of servant hood and the elders were very blessed by this and commented frequently that this is how it always should have been. It was a community of believers worshiping and eating together, as one people, whom all believed in a Creator God. To say the least I was completely blown away by all that I had witnessed. I could not stop videotaping everything that I was seeing. I made a short documentary about this first weekend and it has been sent all over the country as an example of what can happen when humility and forgiveness are taken seriously. 

I grew up in a church that had sent some of the very first missionaries to interior Alaska and many of these missionaries were my Sunday school teachers. So I had been told many stories of harrowing experiences by these missionary pioneers in the early days of their ministries. It always grabbed my attention throughout my childhood listening to these stories. And I believe that God planted a seed in my heart for not only the native people of North America but the world in those Sunday school classes.

In 2004 a group of Cree First Nations from Canada traveled to Homer for a second gathering on the Homer Spit. But this gathering was much shorter because this year was the year the entire group went across the bay and visited a village called Port Graham. The year before the Chief from Port Graham had forgiven those asking for forgiveness and also asked for forgiveness himself for his hatred of the white people. So as everyone gathered on the docks of port graham harbour we were greeted by the chief. He welcomed us and gave us permission to come into his village and gather with his people. This set off another great celebration of dancing, singing, ministry and more hours of gift giving.  The time ended in Port Graham and it was time to head back to Homer. So many fishing boats were loaded with all the people, drums and gear that had been brought over. I was driving a little uncovered 10ft skiff that my uncle owned and after loading my own camera gear I asked if anyone would like to ride with me. I looked at the young men and said, “Come on don’t be chicken it’s not that small!” I had no one who would jump in the boat with me. That is until a guy by the name of Joel Molin said, “I’ll go!” He was a leader with the Canadian group and I didn’t expect any of the leaders to want to go with me because of the open boat situation. But he climbed in wearing a big Cowboy hat that I told him to hang onto because it was going to be a bit windy on our hour trip back to Homer. As the caravan motored out of Port Graham harbour I was at the tail end so I could follow and not hit any hidden reefs looming outside the bay. As we got underway about 30 minutes into the trip I saw something off into the distance splashing and jumping. Whales are seen all over this area so I thought that this would be a treat for my new Canadian friend riding in the boat with me. I cut away from the group and raced over to the commotion in the water, to my amazement, and saw a fish that I had desired to witness all my life. It was a group of about 4 Salmon Sharks herding a group of Silver Salmon and darting in and out of the school. The sharks would surface at high speeds and I could see the tops of their bodies. I put the boat in the middle of the commotion and cut the motor until I could see the group moving to another area. I must have started and stopped that little boat in the middle of the commotion at least 3-4 times. After losing the sharks and realizing that the caravan was out of sight we raced as fast as we could toward the Homer harbour before darkness set in. I think Joel may have wondered why he had jumped in the boat with this guy who chased six foot sharks in the open ocean. But we made it back to the entrance of the harbour just as darkness was setting in.

The instant we crossed the no wake zone, which is the area were its calm water and safe from the open ocean, we ran out of gas. All the running around chasing sharks had drained the extra fuel I needed to make it to the dock. I looked at Joel and handed him a paddle and said, “Well it looks like we have to row.” It took 45 minutes to row across the harbour, but in that 45 minutes Joel asked me, “So, why are you here doing this videotaping?” I told him about my experience from the year before and gave my testimony. He also told me his story and was excited about the fact we had run out of gas. We both realized that this was a God thing and without us running out of gas we would have never taken the time to talk as we did. Joel invited me to a gathering that was coming in January, in Northern Manitoba, to video tape. I interviewed many people and had them tell me there testimonies. This was a time in which I realized that a documentary needed to be made about this movement of God that was happening throughout North America. God had uniquely put me in places where I could witness His handy work.

Since that January I continued to follow the 120 Drums around on different trips including Alaska and Costa Rica. And I also continued to travel to Northern Canada and visit the Cree people that Joel was a part of. On one of those trips Joel, me and a group of others decided to start a production company called Hidden North Productions. Joel had already started a non-profit company called Northern Connections and Joel and his wife have traveled all over the world serving God and proclaiming Jesus through a ministry of restitution and indigenous ministry. You can visit them on the web and learn of all that is happening in this ministry at www.northernconnections.net Please take a look at this website and see all that has happened since those first days in Alaska.

Now that you understand how and why I became involved with various First Nations Ministries, Northern Connection and Hidden North productions. I can tell you all about a trip to Africa that I had journeyed on with Northern Connections, trips they call Spirit Journeys for good reasons.

My Spirit Journey to Africa

When I left North America, for Africa, I had so many ideas of what Africa was going to be like. So many war-torn news stories and National Geographic documentaries were running through my head. As I landed in Kigali, Rwanda, not knowing what to expect, I was greeted by the thick, warm African air and the smell of flowers. Bats zipped by the lights as we walked from the plane to the passport check point. It was night and only the lights of the city were visible but I knew that behind the veil of darkness and distant city lights was a world that I could not wait to experience.

The next day was Sunday so we had the privilege to visit a little church in Kigali. I had heard so many amazing things about the growing church in Africa and was very eager to experience it for myself. I was not disappointed at all as the worship started and the harmonies of the choir filled the room. I sat there amazed at the unique sound God had placed in these people. I knew that soon it would be my turn to get up and say something as one of three guests in the church. But I could not really think of any profound things to say. I was just basking in the sweet sound of the people worshiping their Creator. After the time of worship it was time for us to get up and say a few words to the congregation.

 As soon as the three of us spoke and Pastor Rugari finished his sermon we went back to “The Dream Inn” where we were staying to plan out our time in Rwanda. The plan was to spend a few days in Rwanda and then go into the Congo to meet with some businessmen to work on some ideas for micro economic development. But because of a recent visa price increase from $30 to $300 dollars it was decided to stay in Rwanda for an extra 4-5 days. I was a bit disappointed; I was looking forward to seeing the Congo and learn about all that goes into micro economic development. But my disappointment soon turned into excitement as I learned what God had in store for us.

It turned out that our team of three split up; sending Joel and Demetrius to meet with business officials to deal with the very same microeconomic issues they wanted to deal with in the Congo. But as it turned out they were able to do all they needed to do right there in Rwanda, and with much better results.

I was sent off to finish a music video that Joel had started on previous trips with a choir of Rwandan young adults. In those previous trips Joel had recorded the entire choir and my job was to shoot close-ups of the three soloists in various locations to complete the footage needed to for the project. I was taken to different locations on the outskirts of Kigali and had beautiful vistas in which to complete the project. Rwanda is called “The Land of a Thousand Hills” so I hopped into a taxi with the 3 choir members Neamoni, Clea, Savone and a translator named Louise. I soon saw why Rwanda had been given this name. We drove about 5-6 miles out of town to a valley with steep walls and at the bottom of the valley a stream ran through it feeding patch after patch of banana trees, rice, sugarcane, and anything else that would grow. I really enjoyed my time spent with the choir. What an amazing group of people with a really amazing sound. I tried my best to capture the meaning of the different songs that were on the shot list but without my translator it would have been a lost cause. After getting rained out a couple of times and getting pretty sun burned I think that everything came out on screen the way it was suppose to.

During one of the days it rained they took me to the Genocide Museum. Holy Moses was that intense! As we walked in I asked everyone if they had been there before, they said, “No,” so the experience was new to everyone. We walked through hallways with exhibits playing different video clips explaining the history and how the genocide began. If you think back to the news stories coming out of Rwanda during the 1990’s the Hutus and Tutsis were killing each other with numbers reaching into the millions.  I learned that before colonization by the Germans, in 1880’s, the tribes of Rwanda lived together, inter married and had a relatively peaceful coexistence. But once the Germans came, that all came to a screeching halt. The name Hutu or Tutsi was given to the people according to how rich in cattle they were and physical facial characteristics. Before that they were separated only by the tribes that had identified them since the beginning. As the nineteenth century came the divide between the groups widened and violence was sparked because of oppression on either side. The colonial powers favoured Tutsi’s over the other and placed them into positions of power because of being a smaller group, more affluent and more controllable. As World War 1 ended the Germans were kicked out and the Belgians picked up right where they left off continuing the propping up of the more easily controlled group. As I progressed through the museum I learned more and more about the people groups and the history of Rwanda. It became clear that so much had been done to these people and the effects were still very raw. We came to a room that had nothing but skulls and bones in glass cases and it was there that I learned about my new Rwandan friends and their own pain. I was having a difficult time keeping my composure during the early part of the tour but when I looked over and saw one of the choir members crying it hit me. It was a chain reaction we stood together with our arms around each other with tears coming down all our faces reading the inscriptions on the wall telling of the killings and how many people had died. We went into another room filled with pictures; these were pictures of people that families had left of family members that were never found. I looked over in the corner and saw my translator Louise sitting with her head in her hands crying. She told me that both of her parents had been killed during this time and she had been taken to Burundi to stay with her grandmother until things subsided. It was a very overwhelming experience standing there with my new friends sharing in their very real and very recent pain. I thought of how so many African counties had been colonized by European powers and had similar results to the one in Rwanda.  I know that you can’t change history but we just have to make sure that we don’t repeat it. Walking out of the museum the group was closer; even with the language barrier. We walked out in total silence as the rain poured down. It was an experience I will never, ever forget.

With two more days left in Rwanda I needed to finish the last 3 songs on the list. So we met in morning and prayed that the skies would open up so we could finish before I left for the next leg of our journey. The skies opened and we shot video next to a water fall which had swollen because of the recent rains. We finished on time and went back to the hotel to view all that we had shot. I really felt a bond with this group and I believe that they felt the same. When it was time to go, there were big hugs all around and an exchange of emails. I hope to go back to Rwanda, with the finished product very soon and help promote this group of very talented singers.

The next leg of the journey was Kenya.  So we boarded Rwandan Airlines and flew to Nairobi. As we dropped our elevation I could see giraffe and herds of what I thought were gazelle just outside of the city. But with that I also saw a thick layer if smog covering the entire area. Kenya was much hotter than Rwanda and it was very evident as soon as we stepped off the plane. Our purpose in Kenya was to travel to a town in the southern end of the country bordering Uganda called Busia. There land had been given to Northern Connections, the ministry I was traveling with, for the purpose of building the micro economies as well as an orphanage and anything else that could be built on the land. We traveled with the family that owned the land as they handed the deed over to Northern Connections. The land was broke up into 2 parts. One was an 8 acre partial which sat right on the border of Uganda which was full of crops. I stepped onto Uganda by crossing irrigation ditch and then quickly ran back to catch up with the rest of the group video while taping all the way.  The other was a 21 acre piece, wide open, with cattle grazing on it. Water was only 4 feet down and there had been a fish farm on it in the recent past, so the land was very fertile.

The trip to Busia was done in a day and on the way we traveled through the Great Rift Valley. On the side of the road there was an old church built by an Italian POW during World War 2. It was really beautiful perched next to a rock wall on one side and the Rift Valley on the other. The wide open valley was breathtaking with small herds of zebra and antelope scattered throughout. We saw a baboon next to the road and because this was my first time to Africa the van stopped so I could take pictures. Now I know what all the Alaskan tourists are thinking when they line up on the side of the road to take pictures of moose and bear. I’m sure that the locals driving by were muttering under their breath, “crazy mzungu”, as they drove around us. Mzungu is Swahili for “white man” if you didn’t already know. My experience in Africa was very fulfilling! I believe that I left much wiser but also with more of a realization that no matter how much man tries to screw it all up - God is in total control!

Colby Hall - Alaska