The following is a proposal and outline on a new book entitled Eliza's Journey.
I'd appreciate your input on the book title, the plot's twists and turns, as well as the name "Frederick." (see below. I believe there's got to be a better name.)

Let me hear from you.

Curt


Author’s notes: Tentatively Eliza’s Journey is planned as an 80,000 word novel. I am traveling to Congo and neighboring Rwanda this month (April 2009) on a mission trip. While there, I plan to gather more resources, observe the culture, and solidify the plot.

Eliza (Iles) and Leroy Harris were a real couple. They were my great great uncle and aunt. The outline of this story is factual and pieced together through journals, letters, as well as newspaper accounts.

Among the research and reading I’m presently completing are Barbara Kingsolver’s The Poisonwood Bible, The Fate of Africa by Martin Meredith, Heart of Darkness by Joseph Conrad, and the writings of explorers David Livingstone and Edward Stanley.

Eliza’s Journey

Premise: Can a love be strong enough to reach all around the world?
Love of freedom, love, romantic, adventure


Eliza Moore shocks her family, boyfriend, and friends when she announces her plan to go to Africa’s Belgian Congo in 1920. In spite of opposition from everyone in her rural Louisiana community, she forges ahead on what she stubbornly insists is “God’s will.”

Her sense of adventure, coupled with her to what she senses is God’s calling, trump all other factors and send her on her way to the remote area of Africa known as “the white man’s grave.”

In an Africa where departing missionaries often carried their belongings in a casket, Eliza sticks to her plans. This is in spite of the misgivings of even her closest family and friends.

Most dismayed by her decision is her boyfriend Leroy Harris. Sure of his love for Eliza, he sinks into bitterness toward both her and God.

One factor she must overcome and come to peace with is the deep racial prejudice of her hometown. Ironically, she is being sent to Africa by a church that would never welcome a Negro into its sanctuary.

This leads to great conflict among Eliza, her family, and friends. She deals with it alternately with humor and anger.

The first part of the story takes place in Louisiana during the time of the giant sawmills and demise of the longleaf pine forests. In fact, this sadness over the disappearing woods fuels Eliza’s decision to go where the “ax hasn’t been swung.”

Eliza’s journey from New York to Africa takes over three months. Readers will travel with her by ocean liner, train, boats up the Congo River, and finally overland as she travels to the mission at Wiembo, Niambo in eastern Congo.

However, her journey is about much more than miles. It’s also a spiritual and emotional journey for a young woman who has never been more than a hundred miles from home.

Her arrival in the Congo, then the personal province of Belgium’s King Leopold, finds the sad plight of the natives and the callousness of many white Europeans who are becoming rich at the expense of the Africans.

She realizes that not only do the souls of Africans need the gospel, but also need freedom from many of the whites who’ve come for the wrong reasons. This is a source of great divisiveness at the mission station—whether to tend to their own business of spiritual things or to become involved in stopping the oppression.

Alternating with Eliza’s growth is the parallel journey of Leroy Harris. Back in Lake Charles, Louisiana, he makes a decision as momentous as Eliza’s: to follow her to Africa, risking his life as well as his reputation in the process. Unsure of how his reception will be—not even sure if she’s received his letters—he follows her difficult route to Africa.

Leroy’s arrival catches Eliza and the entire mission by surprise. She is beginning a relationship with Frederick, one of the single missionary men, and therefore has mixed emotions about Leroy’s arrival. When he springs a proposal of marriage on her, the fun and fireworks begin.

Leroy is also dealing with conflicting emotions. His plan is to “rescue” Eliza from the Dark Continent and return with her in tow to America. However, he falls in love with Africa as well as the people of Wiembo.

His spiritual journey reveals a calling that grows as strong as Eliza’s.

However, Eliza holds the cards on their future. It seems she must choose between two men as well as two places.
Frederick or Leroy?
Africa or America?

In the climax of the book, Eliza makes her choice. She chooses Leroy and accepts his proposal of marriage.

In the sequel (tentatively entitled The River’s Flow) Eliza and Leroy fall deeper in love with Africa and each other. However, after Eliza nearly dies of appendicitis, the couple must make difficult decisions.
Finally, Leroy and Eliza return to America, taking home a portion of Africa in their hearts, determined later to return.

"A Hand up… not a Handout"

From the book, Hearts Across The Water by Curt Iles

Background: After the devastating Indian Ocean tsunami of Dec. 26, 2004, I traveled there with a medical group. In a small village called Garut, I listened in on the conversation told in this story.

One of the Displaced Person's Centers along Sumatra's (Indonesian) Northern Coast is named Garut. It is one of many nondescript assortments of crude buildings, tents, and amassed people you find all along the coast. Before the tsunami it was a cattle pasture. Now it houses about 300 families. The village leader explained that the residents all come from coastal villages wiped out by the wave. They have come together here on higher ground to build a new life and a new village together.

This conversation took place under a large United Nations tent that serves as the village school, hospital, and meeting area. I was simply an eavesdropper on what happened.
The village leader sat down with Jim. Jim is from an American aid group and has the wonderful but daunting task of allocating $16 million worth of tsunami aid throughout the affected areas of Southern Asia.

Beside Jim sat “C”, an American who has spent his entire life among the Indonesian people. C's job was to interpret this important conversation.

I was sitting ten feet away playing dominoes with a group of children. However, I didn’t miss one word of the conversation going on behind me.

After some visiting and pleasantries, Jim asked the village leader what they needed most. There was a long silence as if the leader was going over a mental shopping list in his mind. Then he replied in Indonesian. C seemed puzzled and asked a question. The village leader repeated his words.

C smiled as he told Jim, "He said most of all they needs goats."

"Did you say goats?" Jim asked.

"Yes, he says if every family in Garut has 5-7 goats, they could make it. This would allow them to have milk, food, and build large flocks."

Everyone sat in silence for a few seconds. I don't know what the others were thinking but here was my thought:

Here was a man and a village not looking for a handout.
They were looking for a "hand up."

But the village leader wasn't through….There was another lengthy exchange between C and the Garut leader.

C then turned to Jim, "They would also like boats if possible. The men here were mostly fishermen. They lost all of their wooden boats in the tsunami."

C pointed toward the sea which was about one kilometer away across the low land wiped out by the wave. "Right now they are still too scared of the ocean to go back out on it, but they know they must, and will, go back to fishing. You can't fish without boats. They need boats."

Once again: A hand up… not a handout.

The third conversation between the Indonesian and C was long and full of many gestures. I don't know about Jim but I was nearly leaning in awaiting the next interpretation.
C smiled as he related to Jim, "He says they would love to also have cutting tools. They do not have any tools to properly cut wood. Saws and axes would allow them to cut firewood for use and sale."

I could see in my mind these "industrious Indonesians" cutting and sawing up the fallen timber that was everywhere on the tsunami devastated areas.

That was the extent of this conversation. At this point it began to rain. I'd already noticed that the area under the tent and around it had earlier been a barnyard. I knew this because the soil was rich with dried "barnyard fertilizer." Outside the tent the ground became wet, sticky, and smelly. But that didn't take away my strong belief that this village of Garut was going to be an oasis of peace, growth, and prosperity.

It was lunchtime. A nearby tent was dispensing sealed bowls of Japanese rice. A village woman checked off the name of each family as they received their allotment. Everywhere in Garut there was a feeling of looking forward, organization, and teamwork.

Right about then is when something started burning a hole in my pocket. That burning sensation came from a large gift of over $1000 sent by the children of Fairview High School in Grant, Louisiana. They had instructed me to use it where it would help most. All of a sudden I had a pretty good idea that those Fairview students were going to be in the goat, boat, and saw business. It looked like a good investment to me.

When we returned to Jakarta I went to our Aid office and deposited this money. I told the staff accountant to use it to buy "goats, boats, and saws" for the northern coast village of Garut. It was my privilege to be the middleman in linking the two villages of Grant, Louisiana, U.S., with Garut, Sumatra, Indonesia.

People often ask me, "Will you return to Indonesia?" I don't know the answer to that question. I hope so. But I know there are so many other places to go and see also. But if I do, I know one place I'll go…

It’s called Garut.

And if you should ever go to the northernmost island of Indonesia- the large island called Sumatra, go to this village. From the capital city of Banda Aceh head north in your vehicle toward the coastal mountains. You'll cross a large river and then a canal. As you travel along the one highway leading out of the city, you'll have the beautiful Indian Ocean on your left and the foothills of the mountains on your right. About twenty kilometers or so, just right past the curve in the road where you normally have to slow down for monkeys on the road, you'll see a sign for a village called Garut.

I believe you will find a warm welcome there.
They'll remember other Americans who have come before you.
You’ll also find a hard-working village that only wanted a hand up, not a hand out.

And while you are in Garut, Sumatra Indonesia, do something just for me.
Visit their goat herds and pet one of them on the head just for me
and especially for the students at Fairview High School
Grant, Louisiana
United States of America.

Copyright 2005 Creekbank Stories
Originally titled, "Boats, Goats, and Saws" from the book, Hearts Across The Water.