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!