Hanging with the Homeboys

Today I would like to relate the course of last Saturday afternoon spent primarily with Johanese and Mohamed W. (not to be confused with "Blango" - the other Mohamed). The afternoon began at 2 whereupon I made my way over to the CRC for book club. Saturday we discuss The Giver which my little group of 5 (with a couple "sometimes show") are pretty into. In fact, Blango insisted upon reading the dream sequence where Jonas experiences "Stirrings." Nice to know teens are teens the world over... ANYWAY, after book discussion is supposed to be extra help for the WASSCE exam (which I owe a blog about...). Nobody showed up for the scheduled review session on Lord of the Flies, so Johanese and Mohamed and I just hung out and chatted for the next couple of hours while the girls were across the way braiding hair.

Speaking of braiding hair, the boys and I talked about it! I learned that part of the hair-braiding frenzy is that if the girls don't have their hair braided, they're liable to get flogged in school. It signifies that they are not "taking care" and might come from a bad family. Similarly, the boys have to have next to no hair. Interesting! They found it amazing that 1. teachers can't flog their students in the U.S. and 2. students can have long hair. I informed them that sometimes private schools work differently and can set different rules than in public schools (boys might have to have shorter hair). In Salone they are able to report a teacher who "touches the buttocks" rather than just caning the buttocks. The teachers are also not supposed to do more than 3 whacks. The boys resist by 1. refusing to cry or 2. outright physical resistance; the latter case is risky, however, as it might result in a suspension or expulsion. The teacher can also take them to administration or to another bunch of teachers who will then oversee the procedure. I asked what the students might have done who were lining up to be caned on the palm the other day; they said they might have been late for school or been talking Krio in the classroom - relatively minor infractions. I did confess that there have been times I would have liked to whack a student, but, alas, there are other methods of discipline in the U.S. classroom.

Speaking of "abuse", there was something on the radio this morning about a girl who is reporting that a pastor raped her. All sorts of people were calling in offering their two leones on the matter; there is movement to clean up the justice system a bit and give people a voice - especially women and children. Apparently, there is legislation being considered in the areas of children's rights and there is hope that women will have more recourse against deadbeat husbands or abusers. At the moment, it seems that police are very open to bribes and men sort of walk into jail and walk right back out. ALTHOUGH, Sunday's discussion group (Miracle's Boys) which just consisted of girls this time informed me that the death penalty is in effect here in SL and that they decapitate. Note to self: doublecheck to make sure something wasn't lost in translation...

I believe that from the conversation on flogging and abuse we segued to remarking on groups of people who magically disappear. This seems to happen a lot in Salone. The story was related of the Kamajohs who were soldiers in the war who had magical powers. Bullets couldn't penetrate them and they could spin around 3 times and vanish like vapor. This is widely believed and given more credence (at least by these boys) because they heard the eye-witness account from a pastor. It is quite fascinating the way superstition and voodoo/witchcraft intertwines with really strong faith in Jesus. I have yet to work out the thinking on that one...I'm all for the possibility that maybe some of those guys were angels, but really?! Invisible curse guns and the like? No and no and no and no and no (as my nephew would say).

Next up: the nature of blood. It started out with Mohamed informing me that he had studied animals quite extensively and he wondered if I knew that spiders live on blood? In addition, the common house fly has green blood in it head and red blood in the rest of its body. Even more interesting, a doctor had told him that blood in the human body has no color and only turns red when exposed to air. I took it upon myself to deliver the truth on that one - actually knowing something about that subject! You never know when random trivia will come in handy... From blood we went to brain transfusion; Mohamed expressed interest in getting one and I told him I'd contact my doctor friend (that's you, Lee!) to see about it. He wondered where she would get them after I told him she doesn't work in the morgue; I told him she has enough authority to ask someone to go to the morgue and get a brain and that she could keep them in jars in her office if she wanted to. I wonder if I'm ruining these kids for life?!

At this moment in time, Lion started barking and ran by. Lion lives here with Puppy, his "wife". We talked about the difference between a dog's life here and in the U.S. Dogs hunt for their food here and I guess Lion often deposits something at the security gate. Sometimes the food that dogs bring back gets eaten. Again, really?! I made the comparison to retrievers and other "working" dogs in the U.S. but given that we actually feed our pets and don't necessarily eat what they retrieve (a memory of Prince dragging home a rotting deer part from the dump comes to mind), it's a bit different. Lion's schedule seems to be to leave the compound relatively early in the day, check back in at some point and maybe come in at night - but maybe not. I tend to think that he frequently joins the large group that carries on seemingly right outside my window. They do have a good time! We talked about the dogs in my past and then I brought up Mac (my cat for those of you who don't know him). I'm worried about him as he is staying with my mom and doing the male cat territorial thing b/c they have a cat now, too. Very bad. They asked if he had a wife. No.

I'm not sure how we got to cars, but we did. They asked how much I had paid for my car and then suggested I sell it and give the money to the poor. I told them that then I would have no way to get to work because there is no public transportation where I live. Maybe I could jog was one idea. I said it was too far. Mohamed offered to come with me to America and carry me. Now THAT sounds like a decent idea! We talked about various ways of getting around depending on where one lives. I explained that in some parts of the country, one needed a car. In other parts, not so much. They agreed that if they were in NYC, they'd ride bikes. Prices of things was sort of the foundation of this conversation so we discussed how prices are relative depending on demand and ability of the consumer to pay. I pointed out that I could buy rice less expensively here than in the U.S. but that potatoes were actually more expensive here than in the U.S. (that fact garnered from Fudia who recently made french fries). We mused over that weirdness for a while - especially when it was brought up that my lantern which cost about $15 at Dick's Sporting Goods costs about $1.50 in Bo. When I expressed incredulity over that notion, they double-checked with the security guards who all insisted that it was CRAZY to spend as much as I had. Not much I can do about it now!

We talked a bit about church and I told them about the great (apparently) sermon which was preached in Krio at Leader that morning. They go to a different church so I gave them the gist. I definitely missed a few punch lines (seeing as in Krio it's a pidgin English so I get about every 3 words - enough to get the concept but not the exact details) but I know the congregation was seriously engaged and Rev. Gbenday (the spiritual education coordinator at the CRC and part-time pastor at Leader Church) told me afterward that the pastors switch it up a bit (although he didn't put it that way exactly) so that the congregation remains alert. The boys and I talked about Krio and I learned that there's a sort of proper Krio which is spoken more around Freetown and there's the other kind of Krio which they speak; someone in Freetown would know it wasn't proper Krio. We compared it to speaking British vs. American English but I pointed out that it's really a matter of education. Mr. Lamboi (the director of the CRC), for example, would understand everything I say because he got his degrees in the U.K. and is very well educated. He probably understands more than many Americans simply because of his education and even an American might not understand a Brit unless they had lived there or had British friends so they knew the slang and some of the idioms. I think they grasped that concept but since there are 17 languages here, it's really a different kettle of fish (to speak idiomatically :)). I don't know how many of those are written languages.

While a lovely time was had by all, it was eventually time to go - me, back to the MTC for dinner and them, off to showers and dinner. I was left with the assignment to try and figure out what a "temelon" is (the only information given is that it grows in northern African muslim countries and is brown) and to figure out what the English word is for "kpoyeh" (which is Mende). After doing my homework, I have figured out that "temelon" is a location in Guinea and that the internet does not really care to give me a definition of "kpoyeh". Fudia, who speaks Mende, has no idea what the word is and says she needs to hear them pronounce it.

So there you have it! LOVE those boys and especially just enjoy BEING with them (or whomever else). The culture of "being" and of being in the moment is a foreign one for most westerners. I think we always have an agenda or someplace to be or something to be doing. While getting out of northern VA has certainly helped with this, I want to cultivate even more an attitude of being open to what comes along. It's in relationship and encounters and time spent that ministry happens. For continuing reflection...

Preparing papaya and other concerns in Sierra Leonian cuisine...

 
 
 
 

So, today's brief blog is about food. It seems I am constantly thinking about it here; on second thought, I'm probably constantly thinking about it no matter where in the world I might be because, simply put, I love food. But here, in Sierra Leone, in Fudia's kitchen, it is a source of constant conversation because one has to plan assuming that there will be no power. This means making things that can be consumed in 1 or 1 1/2 days without spoiling. If there's power, great; in the little fridge/freezer, after 5 hours of power, items start to freeze, so all is fine except for one's salad (consisting of lettuce, tomatoes, cucumbers and onions). This must be carefully monitored as frozen thawed lettuce is especially unpleasant. The slimy consistency does not please me.

BUT, here's how the eating schedule seems to be shaking out. There is usually fresh bread which Tommy has gotten early in the morning. These are sort of like baguettes but they're softer. Delish. I have one of those and make a little sandwich. Stuffings consist of one of the alternating following: fried spicy egg/onion/pepper/tomato thing; peanut butter and banana; hard boiled eggs and Laughing Cow cheese. Usually there is fruit, too. Options at the moment are banana (mentioned above) or pineapple (quite great especially when it's been frozen), pineapple, or more pineapple. Don't get me wrong: I'm not complaining; fresh pineapple is a real treat especially when it's been plucked off of someone's head basket. Fudia says oranges aren't great at the moment. The coolest thing is that papaya just got added to the list and, even cooler is the fact that it's our own private papaya tree! One of the security guards, Monseray (completely incorrect spelling of his name I believe), has a very long wooden pole with which he recently attacked the pictured tree. Down came papaya. Out came Fudia's knife and out came Mary's fork. FYI, frozen papaya is as nice as fresh. Breakfast beverages consist of swapping out the now warm over-the-night water for some that is colder (hopefully some frozen if there was any power the afternoon/night preceding) and a cup of coffee. I alternate between making some in the French press or making a quick cup of instant Nescafe. Powdered milk and sugar cubes complete the preparation. Yes, coffee snobbery has to go...

Let's move on to lunch. Lunch is often bites of leftovers from dinner. The other alternative is the other piece of bread with peanut butter and banana or with tuna and some left over salad (hard to beat a good tunafish sandwich). I have gone over to the CRC and eaten lunch there as well but I find that I feel better if I have something lighter or less "saucy" (lunch there is always rice and groundnut stew or cassava with fish or some such dish). At this time of the day there is sometimes a cold Diet Coke to be had (this is also an item to be monitored as after about 8 hours of power it will explode in the fridge/freezer) or my tea has gotten super cold and is now iced. FABULOUS. So, I am fortified by some swallows of a cold caffeinated beverage. Amazing what a difference in one's outlook this can make; it's really the small things in life...

Dinner happens anywhere from 6 to 9 depending on the evening activities. I tend to like to eat later as a general rule and dining in the dark has taken on a whole new meaning - speaking of which, I must adjust my light because I'm not able to see the left side of my keyboard. Hold, please. Right. I'm back. We were discussing dinner...So here is where the conversation with Fudia comes into play because earlier in the day we have discussed this meal. She goes to the market most every day in the late morning or early afternoon. Hold again. Need to change batteries in fan...the dribble of breeze is not working for me... LOVELY! Mission accomplished. Where was I? Ah, dinner. So, I seem to be falling into the rut of chicken, some sort of starch, and salad. It's not really a rut, though, in that I'm not sick of it yet. Fudia fries up 3 or 4 chicken leg/breast combos and I eat them for 2 or 3 meals. She also makes a huge bowl of couscous or pasta which is also good cold and will keep. This is always delightfully spicy with vegetables in it (I think she uses a bag of frozen peas/carrots, etc.) and then adds onions and peppers herself. She also prepares a large plate of salad (described above). She lays it out for me covered in saran wrap and I eat it for consecutive meals until it's done or we determine there hasn't been enough power to keep things well and we throw it out. The chicken does occasionally alternate with groundnut stew or cassava or something similar. These dishes are always served with rice. Fudia is big on not mixing her starches. I don't see why cassava can't go over couscous, but apparently it cannot. Okay. We also have to plan based on expense and what she can find that's fresh and looks good to her. In addition, although she always asks me what I want, sometimes when I ask for something she'll say no. For example, I wanted her to make a dish that contains yams, plantains, potatoes and something else which I can't remember at the moment. She thinks it won't keep well - it works better for a group so they can eat it all up in one sitting. So I think I'm out of luck on that one.

Fudia also likes making french fries and fried plantains and in her mind these two things go together, so, for example, the other night she made me a huge platter of fried chicken, french fries, and fried plantains (and salad). I'm not sure how many gallons of palm oil were ingested over the next few days...Her french fries and fried plantains are to die for. I'm working on the popcorn (also delicious; I'm telling you, it's all about the oil which I would bet is not on the "healthy fats" list). Regarding treats, I have some Digestives (which I hoard in my own freezer in the USA b/c they're hard to find seeing as they're a British product) and there's always ice cream in town as a blow your mind treat(okay, it's not THAT great but all is relative...). I'm also currently sucking on a lollipop of which I have a small stash. They're really cheap and available on the side of the road (yup - it's a bit random, I agree). I think tomorrow night there will be rice to go with some leftover groundnut & fish stew (if it's still good which I think it might be because it has spent some of its last few days frozen) but tomorrow's day-time will consist of finishing up couscous, eating bread and eating my last piece of chicken. Monday we will plan for something new and Wednesday hopefully I'll be going out for dinner, so that will be a nice change as well. At some point, too, I need to check out some take-out (or eat-in for that matter) options at a restaurant that serves up Lebanese food - might be time for some hummous!

So there you have it! I had the vague notion that I might lose the 10 pounds I gained this fall due to an overindulgence in Fritos and Cheetos; perhaps that is happening although the diet here is heavy on starches (and there's the afore-mentioned oil issue). I'm working out maybe twice or three times a week (when the fan is overhead - can't do it otherwise) to Denise Austin which is quite trippy and weird. Who does Denise Austin in Sierra Leone?! I'm trying to work up the gumption to do some PX90 workouts which are on my computer but the heat factor might be a bit much...My brother Peter would just knock it out and be into the miserableness of the experience, but pouring buckets of sweat is not something that I ever voluntarily jump at the chance to do.

Speaking of sweating, it's about time to see if I can find some colder water, so, goodbye! I hope your next meal is highly enjoyable; bon appetit!

Wake Up, Dry Bones! Learning to Listen...

"Good morning, world! How was your night?"
"Praise God! How is your body?"
"Fine, by the grace of God. Praise God!"

or, "Oh - I have a slight cold - the weather, it is dusty and cold, yeh, yeh, yeh - but praise God, eh?"

The above, slightly paraphrased, is a typical morning exchange. Essentially, every greeting has something to do with praising God and I think to myself, really Mary, what's your problem? God's name is not always the first thing on my mind and I do not always thank Him for bringing me safely to another day. I think part of the difference is that Africans live in the present as they really don't have much of another choice; planning is difficult as there are often unforeseen things that come up and not much is too reliable.

The past couple of days has brought encounters with a bunch of people and I'm been so humbled by their stories. Monday night a bunch of Methodists from PA showed up. They've been driving all over the country for the past week visiting the sister churches here in SL that their churches back in PA support. Their job is to try to get a feel for the people, culture, and conditions here in SL, report back to their home churches and try to garner more support for the work being done here.

Okay - just got a serious whiff of what smells like pot...look out for my writing to stop making any sense....hopefully it's something else burning...

Back to it. Even though they were only at the MTC for one night, I really enjoyed talking to these PA folks. It has been so encouraging and heart-warming to hear about how much foreign aid is all over SL. Not just $ being invested, but a real effort to work at a local level WITH the Sierra Leonians so that they have ownership and the work will sustain itself. The infrastructure here was devastated by the war (I don't know how great it was before that time...) and while there is progress being made, it's slow. A number of people here have told me they see "light at the end of the tunnel." They are pleased with the president and say he has made massive strides over the past three years. There is, for example, great amounts of construction happening here in Bo - mainly to the roads. They are leveling, paving and fixing places for run-off during the rainy season (which I wish would arrive for at least a few days...). There is also a real heart among a lot of people here to help their fellow countrypersons - even when they, themselves, have little to give. They seem, to me, living examples of one's inability to outgive God - something I would like to have the faith to practice on a deeper level. Perhaps the more one has, the harder it is to actually give it up! Or to trust that God will "out-bless" me when I bless others. This bears more thought....All to say, I was blessed by the example of some Saloners (this is my new term for "Sierra Leonians") who were giving of their time and taking time from their jobs to accompany these white folks from America and work alongside them. I'll talk more about some of their work in a moment....

BUT - back to this group from PA. In their travels, they have visited a number of churches (the sister churches) and a number of schools that are connected with these churches. They have also visited hospitals and driven through numerous villages as they've driven from one place to another (most often on horribly rutted, dusty roads - a couple of times all 4 wheels were off the ground and, in fact, the drivers were having to use the emergency brake to try to make it safely around/over/up? the ruts). On one of their vehicles, the brakes broke so the driver fashioned a brake pad from stuff he found on the side of the road and they were able to get it to a shop to be fixed. Crazy. Anyway, outside one village they encountered a group of girls and women who were painted white. They were heading out to the bush for initiation. A number of these girls will not return as they will bleed to death and/or get terrible infections from which they will die. Yes, you may have guessed it. Their parents have often paid lots of leones for this initiation which is a euphemism for genital mutilation. In one source I read that 85-98% of Saloner women have been excised. Apparently the incidence of this rite in SL is among the highest in west Africa and a lot of its power is due to secret societies; there is social exclusion if one is not a part and it's believed that the ceremony is central in the rite of passage to adulthood with all that is entailed in being a "woman" in SL (which, in all honesty, has plenty of drawbacks!). The amazing thing about the group's encounter with these girls is that they were able to take loads of "snaps" so I asked for copies and if they arrive in a timely fashion (once the team returns to the States) I will share them with you. I can hardly wrap my mind around it - although I get it intellectually and can understand the pressure involved and the notion of "this is always the way it's been". But to what degree is that bondage? And how does God feel about it? There's a rule for the girls at CRC that this WILL NOT happen, but once they are "reunified" (at 17) they have freedom to make their own choices. The staff here (and in the States) need much wisdom to figure out how to deal with this issue from spiritual, cultural and medical perspectives - especially because if the statistics are accurate, the female staff here are experienced in this rite. One can hardly turn to the men for help as I imagine most of them don't know any other way either. An area for prayer!

A couple of other things in our dinner conversation got me really thinking. The first was that I heard Brima's story. He was one of the drivers for the group. During the worst of the war (when it hit Freetown in 1996 or so) he was about 16 and was working at a home for disabled children north of Freetown. The area is surrounded by water on three sides and the rebels arrived. A rocket and a bomb were thrown into the compound and staff at the home were understandably worried about their safety and the safety of the children. They decided to escape; the only way was through the water, however, so they waited for a low tide and then literally carried the handicapped and disabled children for a number of days until they were able to reach Freetown. Not only did none of them know how to swim, but they were CARRYING up to 3 children on their backs. They made it safely to Freetown. The rebels bombed the home (which apparently had been state of the art and really a fine place). Brima lost all of his belongings but escaped with his life. One of the children he carried is now a pastor and has quite a large and thriving church. By all reports, he is a great preacher and evangelist. Amazing. Brima is not bitter; in fact he thanks God for what he has now and the opportunities in his life. He is married and says he has all he needs. Can I make a potion of this guy, put it in a bottle and take doses every day?!

Hearing these stories makes my heart hurt. I truly can't imagine the depths of pain and am overwhelmingly grateful that God decided to make me who I am. Although I know He gives sufficient grace for every circumstance, I am in awe of the level of forgiveness and grace offered by these people who have suffered so much. Am I capable of extending such forgiveness and grace? In my own power, certainly not! There is no-one who was not affected by the war in one way or another and now, the rebels live among the civilians. Brima told us that just as it was hard to tell who was a rebel during the war (they would often wear civilian clothes and just mingle with the common people; sometimes one could tell a rebel only when the machete or gun came out and they were after you) now they are reintegrated into the population. In fact, one of the Saloner guys who is here now (more about this group in a minute) has two rebels working for him. CAN YOU IMAGINE?! I suppose one way to go about making sense of it is to think about the depths of pain and frustration in the hearts of those that would then cause them to wreak such havoc on others. The truth is, we are all capable of such action and it is only God's grace and the power of the Holy Spirit in one's life that causes one to act in any kind of Christ-like way. And while I may not go about cutting off people's hands or ears, or just plain old shooting them, I am fully capable of murder and mutilation in my heart - by my thoughts and words toward others. And, really, doesn't God judge the heart?! People are people are people and I'm thinking that we in the West really have no leg to stand on in our judgment of and interpretation of what we see or think we see in other parts of the world. Sobering. And, again, another prayer target: for wisdom and for God's heart and eyes to feel and see what He does - for right interpretation that we might bring the redemptive power of Jesus to the situations in which we find ourselves, wherever that might be.

Speaking of redemption, the devotion offered by Jeff, the PA group's team leader, just "happened" to be from Ezekiel 37. In this chapter, Ezekiel sees in a vision a valley of dry bones and he prophecies to the bones to rise up. They do, but there is still no life in them. God then tells Ezekiel to prophecy to breath and spirit; he does and breath and spirit then comes over the bones and they lived. The bones had said their hope was lost - but now, with the miracle of breath and spirit, God notes that they will now know that He is Lord; they shall live because of His Spirit.

It strikes me that all over SL, that which has been dead and without hope is coming to life. It also strikes me that it is the miracle of power and "life" that points to Jesus. His work is always accompanied by new life. I have wondered about accomplishing tasks here and felt selfish b/c I think God is doing more in me than I am doing for anybody else - but as I've reflected on these conversations, read emails from dear and wise friends, had little comments from people who had no idea they were speaking directly into my life, etc. - I am coming to see that as God increases His breath and spirit in me, I breathe out more and more of Him and THAT is what makes a difference to the people with whom I come in contact. It is HIM that is life, not how wonderfully I might arrange the library or to what degree I can help Mamie understand "hyperbole" or how much shampoo I leave with Fudia when I depart - it is His life in me that I offer to others. And that is not always measured in tangible ways. I'm learning to be okay with that.

BUT, dry bones coming to life is certainly happening in practical ways, too. The group that is here now will be here until Thursday. John (who comes to SL twice a year and has been doing so for maybe 10 years or so?) is here with three Saloners. He is an expert in electrical systems and installing solar panels - so he works at hospitals and schools. He is offering some solutions to some very dark and dangerous steps here at the MTC (I am strongly suggesting that he strongly suggest to the powers that be - some of whom might be reading! - that it would be GREAT to have solar in place here for fan and electric service on a regular basis! :)) but his real work in this area will be training of locals who want to learn about these systems. He and his guys are out at a school today I believe. While my eyes did glaze over as he was explaining circuits and parts and shipping and adapters and local shops and procedures,etc. etc. etc. I was again struck by the level of commitment and aid being offered - and, again, by the enthusiasm of these Saloners who have taken time off from their own jobs to better the situations of their fellow Saloners. John said that he has asked if sites would just prefer the $ and apparently all have said, "NO!" They really value the relationships that are built and they want to work together. So John and his wife continue to eat into their retirement money as they bring teams over; she is with another team at a hospital in Freetown where they're working on training staff with ultrasound equipment and doing outreach clinic work. By the way, he and his wife are part of the team that I met on the ferry when I first arrived 2 weeks ago. Part of that original team has gone home and a new one has arrived (that are in Freetown with the wife). John, Josie, Abu and Joseph will be back for dinner tonight so I will hear about their work today.

The most recent bit of dry bones experience took place this morning. I met up with Rev. Koroma who is a tutor here (he works with 7th, 8th and 9th graders on Language Arts in the afternoons and he and I have been working together). He had invited me to see his work. He lives just across the street in a parsonage attached to his church. He is a Baptist pastor who comes out of an Islamic background and because he is a Christian, his family has renounced him. He has 42 siblings! One of them is a paramount chief and got this position (according to Rev. Koroma) because they prayed to Jesus for him to get this position rather than engaging in voodoo and witchcraft which the other candidates were doing. As a result of his victory, the brother has given Reverend his "staff of authority" and the staff is in Rev. Koroma's house. It seems that this brother is on the verge of becoming a Christian if he isn't one already; that wasn't quite clear to me. In other good news, Rev. Koroma told me that his dying father actually asked him to pray for him. He said it's like the thief on the cross at the Crucifixion; his father can barely speak so Rev. Koroma told him to just say "Amen" at the end if he agreed and wanted to be with Jesus. He did! Talk about dry bones getting new life! God is good. But there are family members who are openly hostile to him because of his Christianity and because of this experience, he wanted to talk about President Obama and the plans for a community center near the site of 9/11. He says his "eyes narrow" and he is "not liking the direction" of what seems to be Obama's approval of the center. I reassured him that the President doesn't have the ultimate say and then we talked about media bias and an article I had read on the intention of the center according to the man whose plan it is (whose name I can't remember). I think he felt a lot better after our conversation and was reassured that the opening of a center would not necessarily mean that the President is a Muslim or that Muslims who might use the center are being provocative and showing approval for the actions of the terrorists. I reassured him that not all Muslims are out to kill Americans (even though he said there were those here in Bo who were quite pleased on 9/11) and that God might use all of this controversy to His glory.

But back to his work...
So this morning we walked to his church and he showed me the nursery school/kindergarten he is building. He hopes it will be done within a year. Each class will have 10-14 children and there will be around 40 students all together. He is raising some money locally. The push for early childhood education is quite new in SL and the government is not currently financing it. For now, the children meet in his church. There are 4 teachers who are all volunteer; one is his wife. Since the government is not involved, there is no money to pay the teachers and they're not really qualified; he hopes to send them for some distance learning this summer. The little children wear school uniforms and money from Sunday offerings pays their transportation to school.

He, himself, in addition to being a tutor (which brings in some money) is paid $100/month (yes - that is correct) for his teaching job in a large public junior/secondary school. He says it should be more because more money comes in but it gets pocketed by administration and since they doctor the books, staff don't see any of it and it's not spent on the resources for which the money is allocated. Xerox machine? Non-existent. Teacher's lounge? A concrete room with some benches. Period. Tests? Except for 3rd quarter exams, they are handwritten on the board and students write down all questions and then answer them.

He teaches religious/moral education which is a compulsory course. There are 1700 kids that come from 8 - 12:45 and then in the afternoon come an equal number of secondary students. This is only one of a number of schools right here - MANY MANY YOUNG PEOPLE! I'll write more about school stuff later but for now, suffice it to say that I love talking with him about education and while there are obviously incredible differences between education here and in the U.S. there are certain underlying issues that are common and some of the frustrations are exactly the same. While we don't cane our students (on the way to his school there were about 6 students lined up with their hands out receiving switches from a cane for some infraction) there have been plenty of times I've wished I could! (before everyone freaks out, those of you who are teachers know what I mean...). And I think I'm a proponent of suggesting all students in the U.S. should stand when a teacher walks in the room - probably the only time in my life groups will stand for me - LOVE IT! Can you imagine trying to implement this in the U.S.?! Revolt, revolution and uproar would ensue.

I got some good pictures of all the school sites but since I neglected to bring anything to connect my camera to my computer (and these pictures were taken on my camera rather than my phone) you will not be seeing any of them. Sorry.

Alright, I'm aware of the very non-linear progression of this particular piece of writing and while I can't blame it on marijuana (the smell is gone) I think I can blame it on the fact that I'm hungry. Chicken & couscous for lunch - with some lettuce that froze last night which Fudia seems to think is salvageable - I'm not convinced but I need to go check it out. I also have a very cold Diet Coke which I CANNOT WAIT to drink - so off I go. I leave you with the Krio phrase of the day: we go si bak (see you later!).

Fudia's Latest Hairdo...

 

The orange stick stuck in the top of her head is useful for scratching down through the layers of hair and braids to which the hair is sewn. Pretty nifty!

Whiling away the Weekend...

 
 
 
 

So it is now Monday morning and I will relate the passing of the weekend. It started with an invitation to go out & hear some music, but I'm glad I didn't make that foray because a terribly mighty monsoon kicked up around 8 p.m. Friday night. I sat out in it until the rain started driving sideways and then just admired through the windows. A glimpse of God's mighty power! That cleared the air a bit and a nice breeze came up so Saturday morning started out fresh. Saturdays and Sundays my only official tasks are book club and WASSCE (West African Secondary School Certification Exams) tutoring, so there is time to enjoy the day like a Sierra Leonian. Much of both of these days consists of just lounging about. Favorite activities include doing absolutely nothing, talking with people, sleeping (a favorite of the pickins (children)) and plaiting hair.

SO....I'm about ready to open a hairdressing shop. Here's the procedure: The girls basically spend countless hours braiding their hair. They take turns having it done (there are a whole bunch of girls who are quite good at braiding) and since it takes HOURS, if they get up and leave, they often leave a gigantic comb stuck in their hair to mark the spot. The braid design possibilities are endless. Overwhelming really. It changes once a week.
Even Mother Appia gets her hair done! (while catching up on sleep at the same time!)
See the first two pictures...

A lot of the older women do extensions. This consists of braiding all the hair to the scalp (no cute ends can be sticking up or out anywhere). Then a gigantic needle is threaded with black thread and the extensions are sewn to the braids giving the look of long hair (or curls, or colored dreds, or whatever the wearer wants sewn on). With Fudia, for example, Aunty Martha does her hair. She has about 10 extensions sewn onto her braids. Martha started near Fudia's neck and sewed that bit first. Then she gradually moved up Fudia's head - sewing the pieces from right to left in layers. See last picture for finished product.

The other highly amusing thing (although I shouldn't laugh probably) is watching the kids get in trouble. Okay - let me rephrase. The other two pictures show a few boys doing their punishment. I don't know what they did but the punishment was to do endless repetitions of quad thrusts. They have to cross their arms over their chests and hold their ears; I think this makes it harder. The boy in the yellow shirt started laughing so he had to do them for a really long time; in fact, he came over to where we were sitting and a bunch of us get involved in a pretty funny conversation and forgot about him. Poor kid! He was sweaty and miserable when he was finally released. I had to laugh at the creativity of the punishment. Way to get exercise in there, too! Other typical punishments involve digging weeds or cleaning.

Sunday afternoon Fudia and I walked into town for ice cream (well, I had ice cream and Fudia had a Fanta). The place is air-conditioned so it was a lovely little break! After that, I went over for Bible Study; every Sunday night at 7, Rev. Gbenday (spiritual life coordinator) leads a study for children and staff. The evening opened with some singing and then a reminder about last week's lesson on Ananias and Sephira (whose names I'm completely misspelling) who were struck dead after they lied. Apparently, yesterday afternoon's scandal involved a boy who lied to Rev. Gbenday. Although his name was not mentioned, he got called out on it and everyone recalled how much God dislikes lying. They're still thinking up some punishment for him. The degree of "vice" was very very bad! The teaching went on and segued into the importance of obedience. So we examined Jonah, who was disobedient (and all agreed that we don't want to end up swallowed up by a big fish) and we also looked at God's promises in Deuteronomy to bless those who do "good and right" things. We then looked in John and Hebrews for more directions on being obedient. A reminder was given that honoring your father and mother (or those who are in those places of authority here at CRC) is like honoring and respecting God who wants our obedience. Well put. Hopefully lesson will take and "vile behaviors" and "malice" will cease.

So, in all, a lovely weekend was had. It's great to be able to spend time and have no agenda...it's all about relationship here and I think we in the West could stand to learn a lot.

Bye for now!

Groping for Grouper or Fudia and Mary Go to Market

 
 
 
 

Having tasted today the results of yesterday's grouper groping, I think I will detail my excursion. Fudia and I headed out around 2 p.m., on foot. We wandered through people's "yards" (which really aren't b/c they're just sort of rocks and dirt) and picked up her assistant. Fudia was tasked with feeding 20 people for lunch so she wanted some help. She gets annoyed at this girl because the girl doesn't want to spend money on her phone so Fudia has to go to her house to fetch her or communicate with her. Anyway, with said assistant trailing dutifully behind, we made our way into town. Along the road are little stands with things for sale - everything from top-up minutes for one's cell phone (most Sierra Leonians have at least two so they can communicate w/friends that use different carriers - yeah, I don't really get how that works either) to squares of some substance that looks like peanut butter; I couldn't really get a straight answer on what it is. Suddenly we veered off and from that point I was lost. Fudia has her favorite vendors and so we were just on a hunt for what she wanted. She sent assistant girl (it would be nice if I could remember her name - she'll be AG from now on) on various errands but then kept getting annoyed with her. She thinks AG is a "fool."

First stop, pineapple off someone's head basket. (very delicious - had for dinner last night, breakfast & lunch today, some left for dessert tonight...). Next, we looked at textiles and I bought a length of fabric for pants for my brother David. We zipped around back somewhere to Joseph, the tailor, who had me pay about $5 and told me to come back "tomorrow evening." Okay.

With my only personal errand done, we were on the lookout for Fudia's ingredients. Her plan was to make potato leaf soup for the group. I requested spaghetti, chicken and salad. Our habit is for Fudia to make enough for 2 days or so (3 if we think there will be power or I pay for the generator which I've only done once but which I am seriously considering right now) and I have some things like granola bars and peanut butter if I want to supplement or I get bored. I can also go over to the CRC for lunch (which I did yesterday) but, frankly, Fudia's food tastes better and I got a bit light-headed from the heady mixture of smoke, fishy smell, palm oil fumes, slightly chewy unknown fish in relatively oily cassava leaf sauce, 91 degree weather and the slinky skinny kitties who were messing about with the fish bones scattered around my feet. HOWEVER, I enjoyed hanging out with staff - we were all out back in the kitchen which is just a covered concrete hut-like structure with open fires in the middle and a couple of store rooms off to the side. Although I'm all for the open fire/serve in gigantic pots thing, I think I'll stick with using a fork (I haven't seen kids or staff eating with forks - it's the right hand - although, oddly enough, the Sierra Leonians whom Fudia has fed have all used forks. Maybe it's more of a formal thing? i.e. these folks were being served as part of a conference/meeting they were attending. I'll have to ask her about that).

Glory be. The power just came on. My day is complete and I am lifting my hands in joyful thanksgiving. Done. Psyched for cold water in a few hours! And this also means that my leftovers can be leftover. I have to say my mother would be all about "expiration dates" at this point.

Okay. Back. Took a quick break for dinner during which time some guy delivered David's pants. Outstanding! They even have pockets! I'm definitely having a pair made for myself. I also asked about the fork thing. My hypothesis as stated above is, indeed, correct.

I digress. Back to potato leaf soup....so, we first needed to find the fish. Dried grouper (see picture) is 1. gigantic 2. smelly 3. very dried 4. a favorite of flies. Do not let any of that deter you - instead, pick the best of the lot and stuff it into your shopping bag. Next: potato leaf. Again, go to your favorite sellers of such veggies and purchase a bunch of bunches. At the same time, pick up some lettuce for Miss Mary and some good looking (but small) tomatoes (quite expensive here). Next is the favorite "cow meat seller". He wields a wicked looking machete and simply removes cow from a hook, chops it up and stuffs it in a bag. Now that I think of it, I don't know where that ended up; maybe Fudia ate it. I think we hit the spice area next. People walk around with little bags of spices on their heads, or you can just go to any one of a number of tables where there is garlic, onions, oils, peppers (which is the "hot" that characterizes this food), bouillon cubes, etc. etc. Again, Fudia has her favorite haunts - she pointed out to me that she doesn't purchase from one particular woman because her goods have been "exposed." Since every good is being "exposed" I fail to see any distinction, but after wandering around with her, let me say it's a miracle anyone she feeds isn't dying of some horrific food-borne illness. But, back to spices. She got a bunch of little bags of things and ordered up a lot of vegetable oil which got poured into plastic bags. AG was sent to fetch it and watch over the process. Fudia can be quite bossy and commanding! She really doesn't put up with any nonsense.

After a lengthy stay in the spice area, where I watched people and tried to figure out what, exactly, people were selling or what they were doing (some people were sleeping under tables, for example) we meandered through the shoe section, jewelry section, underwear section and finally out to the street. Ah! Fresh air! (granted, it's all relative). Next: Bo Supermarket - LOVE this place. It's my 3rd time there and I love it b/c there's a giant air conditioner. There is where I get Diet Cokes and Digestives. This is where Fudia gets chicken, pasta and Laughing Cow cheese. She also purchases little treats for herself if she's so inclined...After we had been in there for about 5 minutes, she declared that she was getting cold (seriously?!) and went outside. How crazy is that? I, on the other hand, was thinking about asking the owner if I could rent out some space in one of the aisles and just hang out. Alas, before the question could be posed, Tommy (caretaker at the MTC)arrived with the van (since we had too much to carry on a motorbike taxi) and we returned home.

As a follow up, you have to know that the potato leaf/grouper stew thing on rice was superbly tasty (had a bit today at lunch time). Here's how the transformation took place: yesterday afternoon, the grouper came out of the bag, was ripped up into chunks, was rinsed and swished around about 3 times and was then put in a pot to boil. A few eggs went in with it (I'm not sure if those eggs made it into the stew or became my fried/scrambled egg/onion/pepper breakfast sandwich of this morning). In any case see picture for how big, flat, smelly, hard fish turned into very tender potato leaf stew (granted, it took all night). Fudia likes it made with the dried fish because she says the flavor is more piquant (okay, she didn't really use that word, but that's most definitely the point she was making).

And for my end, I have enjoyed 3 meals in a row of chicken, spicy pasta/tomato dish, pineapple and salad (consisting of lettuce, tomatoes, cucumbers and onion).
Even as I type, the refrigerator freezer is chilling, the fan is on overhead, and I'm hoping to do some reading without a flashlight. Life is good! Welbodi (or good health) to all!

Checking in at Church or "God's Word is Powah"

 

So I'm starting to settle into a bit of a routine. It's very different being here alone rather than as part of a team. With my team in March there was such a sense of "mission" and it was non-stop from first thing in the morning until well into the evening. No time for napping! Now, lest you think I'm napping non-stop, this is not the case. First of all, it's too hot for naps. There's not a "second." All to say, I find myself feeling a bit unproductive because I can't simply check tasks off the list. The work I'm doing is on-going and happening over a period of weeks. For example, today I met with 10 staff members, passed out the Bible study workbooks and watched our first video. There were some loud "uh huh"s as we watched and some finishing of Bible verses and a few were taking notes. Also, at the end of the video as Jennifer Kennedy Dean asked the questions "What can wash away my sin?" "What can make me whole again?", one woman started singing "Nothing but the Blood" so that's how we ended - with all of us joining in; it was awesome! Which brings me to the issue of church and music.

It is exceedingly humbling for a girl who considers herself musical with a good sense of rhythm to go to church and be the only white girl. In comparison to the rest of the congregants, I have no musical talent whatsoever and no rhythm either. In this Methodist church, approximately 250 people, accompanied by percussion and led by one or two choir members, rock out to familiar hymns and choruses in amazing harmonies and syncopated rhythms. Where's the pipe organ and the 4/4 beat?! Or even the praise & worship band who thumps out the clearly articulated down beat? This pumoi (white person) doesn't stand a chance. But I think God just enjoys the attempt and the attitude of the heart, so I did my best! I need to practice being on the beat and off it at the same time - quite difficult really.

Only 3 offerings were taken this service (there could have been many more!) so that was good seeing as I had only 2 coins along with me; I forgot to break some larger bills. The service was also short - only 2 hours! After the reading of the Word (which is "powah"!), the minister preached on the wedding feast at Cana and turned it into a commentary on the state of some social ills affecting the country: some people drink too much wine and this lures people into prostitution. Human trafficking made its way in there, too. I think the point he was ultimately trying to make is that we need to let Jesus be our "wine" (He who gives joy to the hearts of people as the Psalmist says). It was actually a new angle on that story for me. I'm going to give it some more thought.

Next time I need to sit with the kids. The CRC kids go to two churches. We can walk to Leader while the other is farther away. I ended up sitting behind the CRC children but since open curiosity is a given in this culture, they all turned around and stared and waved (as did everyone else in church - minus the waving). Most of the kids were wearing their good Sunday clothes which means fitted tops and long skirts for the girls and African tunic-type tops for the boys over slacks. Most of the older women wear matching head scarfs. The clothes are SO beautiful - colorful and custom-made. In this church with its aqua walls, colorful murals of Bible stories and flags/banners, it's a sight for the eyes! Amazing. You get to really take it in during offerings because everyone processes forward and since we're singing, everyone is actually dancing. I just wanted to sit in the middle of it and take it all in or else take loads of pictures, but it may be that pictures from my trip in March will have to suffice. It is somehow easier to be "touristic" when others are doing it too. Plus it's a bit rude here - best to ask first (although I did manage to snap one shot while everyone was bent over during prayers - except me and the one woman you can see in the photo who is looking around!)

Oh - the other piece of dressing up for church involves making sure one's clothes are really ironed (this is important for school uniforms as well). Saturday afternoon when I went over to the CRC some of the girls were doing their ironing. The irons are actually iron (the kind one collects as antiques) which they heat over coals (I assume). One of the younger girls had apparently ironed over a composition book so it was quietly smoldering in the middle of the common lounge floor (upon which she was also doing her ironing). I guess she carried this blazing hot thing from the fire outside into the dorm? But back to the burning book: No one seemed too concerned. In fact, a few other girls picked it up and started blowing on it to make it burn faster. I pity the poor child whose school notes were contained therein. I suggested they go put water on it but whether or not that happened is unclear. They took it somewhere. And all looked very presentable on Sunday morning.

I'm hungry and Fudia has made french fries for dinner, so I'll sign off now. I went for a long walk a couple of days ago all around Bo and will take a later posting to try to describe the various sights. Until then, good night and Happy Martin Luther King, Jr. day!

The Past Few Days

It's Saturday morning and I'm getting ready to establish a couple of book clubs with JSS (Junior Secondary School) and SSS (Senior Secondary School) students. They will have their choice of The Giver or Miracle's Boys. These are both high interest books so I hope they'll really get into them and want to read. We'll meet once a week to discuss issues that they identify or questions they have. In school, they don't have discussions like this - it's lecture based - so I hope this will be fun and feel "non-academic" in light of all the other work they do. The pressure to do well on two big national exams (at the end of Junior school and at the end of Secondary school) is overwhelming and the kids do work in preparation for these exams non-stop. I'll be helping with extra tutoring sessions for the WASSCE exams (the university entrance exams) for which they have to earn a certain number of credits to be able to pursue the field of their choice. Those will be Saturday afternoons after their Saturday morning extra school sessions.

I also spent some time sitting in on Language Arts tutoring sessions this week. These begin right after students get home from school. The goal is to help them understand their own notes because they just write down what the teacher writes on the board. There is little explanation and the students often copy incorrectly so then it makes even less sense. I jumped in at one point to help them understand the difference between metaphor & simile and had them identify my examples and then create examples of their own. This was apparently a novel teaching concept. In positives, the tutor was pleased to sit down and let me take over; he then gave me a poorly written "cliffs notes" of a novel the children had to know for the exam and suggested we "co-teach" next week. I think the most important thing to do is teach study skills, put highlighters in the hands of the kids, and do some teacher training on using graphic organizers, outlining, annotating of texts, etc. to assist the kids in making sense of the material. It seems the teachers are eager for resources and eager to talk about ideas, so I'm hoping they might be receptive to this in a few weeks. It's hard to watch these kids struggle when some different techniques could solve the problem!

Yesterday afternoon I headed over to hang out with the kids for "reading time" which is supposed to happen every day at 4 p.m. I found the majority of them sleeping (they get up around 5 a.m. and don't go to sleep until around 10). When I said, "Let's read!" and pulled my book out, a bunch of the little ones found their books but they wanted to be read to, so we piled on a couch and read a Clifford book, a book on cats, a book about a pig who can only say "moo" and a cow who can only say "oink" (we got to imitate all the other farm animals who make fun of them by saying things like "baaa - ha"), and a sleeping beauty story. All the while, my hair was being braided and my very white skin was being stroked. A fun time was had by all. The day ended nicely with Vespers at 7 p.m. (with a drum-assisted version of "All Hail the Power of Jesus' Name" in an unfamiliar tune) and some help I gave to some study hall kids who needed to understand literary terms like "oxymoron" and "soliloquy". Mohamed asked me to make him a really hard practice test because he has a test on them next Friday. Okay - when was the last time a student asked me to do such a thing?! Crazy. Maybe there's a way to bottle the motivation and carry it back home!

In personal concerns, I need to get out and about; I'm feeling a bit stir-crazy, but Edison has my in-country phone and I'm not keen to walk around town without a way to call up and say "I'm lost!" so hopefully he'll show up at some point today. He was supposed to arrange a way to get the phone from Freetown to Bo by now. Grrr. I feel like I'm in isolation on some compound - which I suppose I am! Maybe I'll see if any of the kids want to go for a walk this afternoon.

Gemutlichkeit (loosely defined as an attitude of "acceptance, conviviality, and enjoyment of what you are doing and those you are with")

     Greetings from Bo, Salone (Sierra Leone for short). Currently, my computer has been reconfigured, the overhead fan is on (there's power!) and I am full of Fudia's fish/beef/onion/palm oil stew thing which was served with loads of spicy rice (with some plain rice thrown in to tone it down a bit). I'm drinking relatively cold water (again, thanks to the power having been on for the last few hours) and have had initial conversations with both the director of the CRC (Mr. Lamboi) and Mabel ("Field Supervisor" - basically in charge of education issues and scheduling as concerns tutoring, reading programs, etc.). The initial challenge is finding room in the schedule for free reading time. Currently, the kids are doing school until mid-afternoon, having a snack, then being tutored in all their subjects until about 10 p.m. with a dinner break and vespers at 7 p.m.  There might be some free time late Friday afternoon (after kids do their laundry) and there seems to be a bit Sunday afternoon. Going to have a brainstorm session with U.S. contact people and see what can be done.
     So, I shall now back up a bit and discourse on the topic of getting to Bo.
     After an initial delay getting out of Detroit, I made it fine to Chicago and proceeded to join a multitude of people who jammed themselves onto a United flight to Brussels. The first few moments proved amusing as I watched a flight attendant attempt to persuade a nearby passenger that she really needed to fetch her two white yappy dogs who were running up and down the aisles, stuff them in their boxes, and stow them under the seats in front of her. Why the woman would think there could be another possibility is beyond me. I then found out that I was fortunate (?) enough to be seated in front of a child who wailed loudly every second that she was awake (which was probably 5 of the 8 hours or so). Unfortunately, only Social Network and Wall Street II were playing for our viewing pleasure, and seeing as I'd already seen Wall Street II (and found that viewing Social Network once was sufficient) there was not much to distract me from listening to said child. I thought about joining her in the wailing.  Enough said. By the way, making it through past issues of The New Yorker is much harder to do when one's powers of concentration are lacking. In any case, I lightened the load of reading material a bit (I have inherited one of my father's habits of having a compulsion to read most every page of every magazine to which I subscribe even if  I'm stuck back in November...); Brussels appeared just in the nick of time.
     Being the confident traveler that I am, I proceeded (without checking the departure board) to my next gate which happened to be approximately 3 miles away. At this point, I was cursing the dang New Yorkers. (Coming once a week, they stack up in a hurry and they were by no means my only reading possibility!) Having arrived at my gate in due time, I proceeded to check the departure time and confirm with my boarding pass only to find out that the boarding pass didn't match my original itinerary and, in fact, that the original itinerary flight wasn't even listed! So, back I marched. By this point three different security lines had seen me and all my belongings. SO, after standing in an incredibly long line for an incredibly long time (not even managing to multi-task by reading another magazine) I was able to confirm that the original flight had been canceled, I was on a later flight, and the departure gate was really really far away. Surprise. Surprise. Since this is quickly becoming a really long and boring travel story, suffice it to say that I managed to let someone in the U.S. know what had happened before my phone went completely dead, like not even turn on anymore dead, and sent up a prayer that she would be able to contact someone in SL to let them know.  Uneventful 6 1/2 hr. plane ride to Freetown - arrival at 7:35 p.m. Monday night.
     I have to say that stepping off the plane in Africa is quite glorious. First of all, the air smells uniquely African. Great description. I'm not sure what it's a mix of - tropical air? wood smoke? breaths of flowering plant life? And it's dark. SO dark. Africa dark. Speaking of smells, one article in some New Yorker was about a woman who smells for a living. She's hired by companies like Cartier, Goldman Sachs, Pizza Hut, etc. to smell. She goes to places and isolates the smells that make up an overall smell. She even breaks down cities by neighborhood. Among her favorite places are Mexico City and Cuba. I'd like to know her breakdown of the "outside Freetown airport" air. Oh - she somehow bottles these smells and takes them back to her lab. I'm unclear on what exactly she does from there. Somehow I don't think Cartier wants her to recreate San Francisco's fisherman's wharf...
     The "N" on my keyboard is suddenly a bit sticky and I'm developing a slight pain in my forefinger from having to sort of punch it. Irritating.
     Okay- Made it through everything at the airport no problem - met up with Edison and then found out he was also needing to meet a group of Methodist volunteers from IN who are spending the next 2 weeks working in hospitals in Freetown and some outlying towns. I had noticed them on the flight as they were all wearing matching t-shirts. Yikes. Anyway, it took FOREVER for them to get their luggage, etc. In the meantime I changed money and made friends with a multitude of security guys, luggage guys, hanger on guys, etc. etc. etc. Many many friends. All the white people (and a few others) then waited for a bus which made its way to a water taxi to take us across the harbor to the city. Another interesting thing about Africa is the sort of randomness of some of the sights. Every so often, we would pass an individual or two just sitting by the side of the road. There was no house in sight, no bus stop, no lights.....Just a person or two hanging out watching the world go by - except not much is really going by. Odd. I suppose it's good to get out and contemplate things occasionally. Anyway, once we reached to embarkation point and got on the water taxi, I wisely decided to stay outside and keep focused on the horizon and thus made more friends - this time with all the guys working on the taxi. I also had an interesting conversation with one missionary who came outside to chat. Once I explained that it wasn't that I was being rude by never looking at her but that I was just trying to avoid puking in public and thus had to keep watching the shoreline, we talked about the effectiveness of short term mission trips. This is an issue that I've been thinking about ever since my mom raised it, actually. Thus far, I have been pretty impressed with what I see as this group's (United Methodists Volunteer in Mission or something very similar) desire to achieve sustainability - not to provide a bandaid for problems, but to effect systemic change by working with and helping to coordinate local efforts. Yes, resources and expertise are provided, but it's always with the goal of having it continue once a team has gone. This particular woman was making something like her 10th trip and each time, progress was made and more and more was enabled. What started as a one-man volunteer physical therapy practice with cardboard and pulleys has developed into a paid position with real equipment and 5 staff members whom he has trained. Next steps are to take his team out to smaller hospitals, clinics and villages. That kind of thing is worthwhile. I think the same principles are in place here at the Child Rescue Centre. Anything I do needs to continue and have lasting impact - and be part of what is needed and wanted by the children and the people who work with them full time. So, I pray for wisdom, good communication, and God's agenda, not my own. Hold, please.
     Just got back from Devotions. This happens every Wednesday at 4 p.m. for resident children and staff. The "n" key is driving me up the wall.  The message was from verses in Proverbs that speak to using one's tongue to bless and not curse - and how that is a gift we can give others. We also heard prayers led by 4 different children which were actually pretty heartfelt but I didn't catch half of them as they were spoken quite softly and quickly and given that a number of vowels are pronounced in their own Sierra Leonian way, I stopped trying to figure it out and just added my "amen" at the end. The time ended with a rather dirge-like singing of "Oh, Jesus, I Have Promised" during which the boys playing the drums got in trouble for providing too strong a beat.
    In other news, my fan doesn't work. I discovered this at 3 a.m. when the power went off in Hotel 5:10 in Freetown (where I spent the first night). My room's air conditioner conked out and things very quickly heated up (it's Sierra Leona's "winter" so it's only about 85 right now - only). I messed around with loading batteries and trying to problem solve with my flashlight, but had to give up. Rather than use the time to pray, journal, be introspective, otherwise commune with God (or even read more magazines!), the next few hours, instead, consisted of wondering if I am capable of rewiring a fan (and determining that, unfortunately, the answer is probably no), having conversations in my head with loads of friends, acquaintances and strangers yet to meet, and listening to a loudly broadcast, very tuneless and lengthy (45 minutes?) call to prayer. It began around 5 a.m. which I find a bit early.

     Power came back on around 6, so I had a few hours of rest and then prepared for the car ride to Bo. I made friends in the hotel lobby with Jesse, who works with war amputees and war widows in Freetown and surrounding areas. He also works at the hotel. He was studying for a degree in community development during the war and began volunteering as the refugees started flooding the city. He works at teaching the widows (who have next to no chance of ever getting re-married) skills so that they can sustain themselves and their children. The issue of sustainability again came up and it was interesting to get his take on the issue as one who lived through the war and has seen the results of the horrific atrocities committed - mainly against civilians. The war has been over for only 8 or 9 years so I think that, overall, perhaps decent progress is being made. He was the first Sierra Leonian that has mentioned the war. I hope it will come up during my time here at CRC. I'd like to know how people's faith played a part in it all. I found myself really grateful last night that God has thus far spared me the horrible evil of which people are capable. He knows exactly what each of us can bear and how our experiences will shape us. Best not to compare to those who seem to have it better or those who seem to have it worse, but just to rest and trust that He knows what He's doing. I can trust the paths He has laid out specifically for me and seek to be faithful in what He puts before me.

Guide to pictures:
1. Bo
2. Fudia makes spicy rice
3. Hotel bathroom
4. Hotel bedroom
5. My bathroom at CRC
6. ditto
7. My bedroom
8. View from hotel
9. Everyone needs one of these!

A Serious Dilemma...

Happy 2011! It's only 6 days until I leave for Sierra Leone and a most pressing issue is on my mind today: footwear. Perhaps I should be thinking about travel delays, heat, what to do about the lack of ice for my water, or any other REALLY important issue, but the truth is that footwear in Africa bears thinking about.


To have foot sweat or not to have foot sweat: this is the question. And since I do not desire to parody a famous monologue, I will now just describe the problem. I'm pondering dirt vs. comfort vs. cuteness. You see, I have great looking flip-floppy shoes that are super cute and match cute outfits. However, I won't be wearing cute outfits in Sierra Leone and I risk super cute shoes getting super dusty and cruddy. This then means that I need to purchase rather utilitarian flip-flops which are not fun but will get the job done. I found some Croc flip-flops at Nordstrom Rack which are sort of spiky on the soles and will fool me that I'm getting a foot massage when I walk with them. But I, being me, feel the need to comparison shop at Target and Walmart.  Perhaps they won't have any flip-flops and the problem will be solved; the Crocs will be keepers.  Now I find myself annoyed that I brought some fun flip-flops from NY that will now remain in MI and I will then just lug them home again in March.  What was I thinking?
    
I know you're wondering when the foot sweat issue is to come up. With flip-flops this is not a problem. However, if one wishes to hike or wander dusty streets, it might be best to have a more substantial shoe. One has to weigh practicality (like wearing an appropriate shoe) with comfort (not having foot sweat) vs. shoe care (how dusty does one want one's shoes to get?). Since I don't own a pair of real Crocs and don't intend to, I'm left with rather cute sneaker things with petite white socklets (which quickly acquire a ring of dust around the top).  I think I need to take these just to pretend I'm being practical (or in the case that I will really need to be so - for example I'd like to go to Tiwai Island Wildlife Sanctuary and when trekking after monkeys it's probably best to wear a practical shoe). Okay, that dilemma is solved. One pair of cute sneaker/somewhat practical shoes. Check. Multiple pairs of socklets. Check.  MAYBE a cute pair or flip-flops just in case I get the chance to look cute. And one (maybe 2?) pairs of utilitarian flip-flops.

Time to go shopping...