Dalaba Vacation

December 28, 2012

     You know you’ve adjusted to missionary life when foreign, exotic experiences seem normal and no longer strange.  I realized this was the case when driving down a long, dirt road in the mountains of Guinea, headed towards another remote waterfall, we saw monkeys cross the path.  As fun and exciting as the experience was, somehow it felt normal.  I realized in the moment that the past nine years have been anything but normal.  Jen and I moved to Panama, a completely unknown environment, newly married and recently graduated from college.  We’ve had the privilege of hiking through jungles in Panama, wading through rivers in Costa Rica, and trekking up mountains in Ecuador.  Furthermore I’ve been blessed with the opportunity to travel to Thailand, Senegal, Peru, and Nepal.  And now we’re living in Guinea.

      I realize this is also due to the company we have kept.  For the past nine years we’ve been surrounded by people who regularly travel and live in extreme places, surrounded by foreign cultures, experiencing exotic things all the time.  So when you get together, swapping stories about recent trips and interesting occurrences, these adventures begin to seem like this is everyday life, nothing out of the ordinary, no big deal.  But then I remember what it’s like to be back home, to get the weird, nonsensical questions, to meet people who have lived their whole lives in the same country, or worse yet, in the same state.  Now that’s strange! 

     So when I find myself diving off cliffs and scrambling up waterfalls in the middle of the African Savanna, somehow it feels normal, even natural.  My only real question (other than whether or not there are any snakes nearby) is whether or not I’ll ever be able to adapt back in the U.S., to settle down and live amongst “normal” people.  That’s the question we’re pondering for next year, weighing what God has for us and seeking His will for the future.  It’s almost been nine years since we left the U.S.  We’re considering going back, but are unsure if we’re fit for that kind of life.  It’s strange that I would feel more fearful about living in my “home” country than moving to Africa, but I guess that’s what we’ve been talking about all along:   “Strange” is strictly a subjective point view.  Of course there are also the options of going back to Panama or staying in Guinea.  God has been so good to us wherever we go, it’s hard to discern and decide.

     Other than these ponderings, we’ve had a busy and fun Christmas.  Our gift giving went well.  The neighbors were very surprised and showed their gratitude through great, big smiles, telling us we were “welcome any time.”  Following this we traveled about 12 hours to Dalaba, stopping in Conakry midway.  Dalaba is a mountain town in central Guinea.  The region is the main producer of potatoes and produce for the country.  Similar to Panama’s Chiriqui, it is very prolific in oranges, avocadoes, tomatoes, and even some coffee beans.  But mostly potatoes.  Most of the vegetables get trucked out to Conakry, but they’re also sold at the Sunday market, which we made sure to visit.  We also visited several waterfalls, diving and swimming in them whenever possible.  I’ll spare you the details and try to include pictures, though I’m sure they won’t do justice to the incredible beauty and variety God has placed in these extremely remote, and difficult to access places. 

     In going to Dalaba we were hoping for cold weather.  The Galvez had visited this area in July and were forced to wear jackets and sweaters to keep warm.  They had been told December is even colder.  Unfortunately, this was not the case.  The climate was fresher and dryer than Boke, but not necessarily cold.  It cooled off enough in the evenings to warrant a fire in the fire place, but mostly this was just to pretend like it was cold.  Still, it was a really nice Christmas.  We were able to hang our stockings with care, we were able to see pine trees (as opposed to our fake Christmas tree at home), and we were able to celebrate Christ’s birth with loved ones and friends—speaking of strange, I lauged as we spent Christmas eve eating Mexican food with a Columbian family in the heart of Africa.  I’m sure it will prove to be a memorable experience.  On Christmas day I told Nico and Isabella, as we hiking to yet another diving spot, “next year you’ll be sitting at home, trying to remember what you did last Christmas and you’ll remember this experience and smile.”   Yes, a truly memorable experience.

    To top it all off, on the way home our car tire blew out.  There’s a certain sinking feeling you feel in the pit of your stomach when you’re stuck in the middle of nowhere, in a country without tow trucks, wondering how on earth you’re going to get a replacement because the spare tire also has a hole in it.  Thankfully the Lord gave us peace, he provided help, and we were able to buy a spare tire at a little town down the road.  It was a great reminder that God is with us wherever we go.  Whether the road seems strange or normal, He is always there!

  Thank you, Lord for a pleasant vacation.  Thanks for the amazing world you’ve created, full of wonder and amazing things to experience.  I stand in awe at your glory, all that you are and all that you’ve created.  Thanks for allowing us the honor of experiencing your presence in these exotic places.  Please continue to guide and lead us wherever you would have us go.  Help us to follow you and serve you the best we can.  May you reveal yourself to us and be glorified us in wherever that may be.  Amen!  

December 15, 2012

     We survived our first bout with malaria.  This was my biggest fear, and it turned out to be nothing at all.  Actually, the missionaries here treat malaria a little like the flu.  It can be quite dangerous and even deadly, but if you catch the symptoms early and start treatment right away it’s not usually a big deal.  On Sunday night Nathanael mentioned he had a slight headache.  The next morning the headache had grown worse.  Excruciating headaches are one of the symptoms of malaria, along with a fever and other unpleasant elements.  Nathanael isn’t accustomed to having headaches so we rushed him to the clinic right away.  The clinic administered a blood test and confirmed that he did in fact have a small case of malaria along with some kind of infection.  “This is Africa,” they said with a smile, as if everyone who comes to Africa is bound to catch something.  They then gave us a prescription for a few meds.   

       That night Nathanael progressively grew worse, with a strong fever and strong headaches.  Thankfully he fell asleep early and slept the whole night.  The next morning he was still a little weak and suffered some small vomiting due to the medicine, but by lunch time he was right as rain.  On the third day we finished the treatment and sent him back to school.  As I said, most missionaries here treat this as if it were the flu.  There’s not much you can do to avoid getting it (there are medicines you can take, but they are often accompanied by strong side effects like depression, strange dreams, etc… and are not recommended for long term use) and if you treat it early it goes away pretty fast.  We were very thankful to have caught this right at the beginning and that it was truly a mild case.  Once again the Lord has been good to us, protecting us and pouring out his favor upon us.  Praise the Lord!

     This past week was also spirit week at school.  The kids wanted to do a fun dress up week, so we picked the before-last week of school (often the hardest to get through).  Each day the kids had something to look forward to as we followed CCA inspired themes.  Monday was Mismatch Day; Tuesday, Twin Day; World Wednesday (international outfits); Superhero Thursday; and Funny Friday.  There were some pretty interesting outfits especially on Thursday and Friday, and I’m sure our neighbors thought we had gone nuts.  But it helped us get through the week, and our kids had a blast.

     This Friday I also went out to the market and finished my Christmas shopping.  This time my shopping list was for our neighbors and house helpers.  I was truly experiencing the biblical principle “it is more blessed to give than to receive,” as I planned and bought and anticipated the reactions of the recipients about to receive these gifts.  It’s even more fun because I know they don’t expect them at all.  Since this isn’t a normal holiday for them, and since gift giving isn’t part of their traditions, I know the gifts will come as a total surprise.  We hope and pray it will communicate the love of Jesus and will give us an opportunity to share about Jesus with them.  Whatever the results, I am excited to be able to give them.

     Today Andres and I did our second training of children’s ministry leaders.  This one was for the church in Kamsar.  Though I have only visited this church once before, I was truly impressed by this little congregation.  They are a small group of believers, maybe 50 in attendance, that meet in a local school classroom (think wooden benches and an old school blackboard).  The joy in their singing and worship is absolutely infectious. The pastor and his wife are a young couple, who were both raised in “pagan families,” as they expressed it.  Yet they both came to the Lord and felt the call to serve Him in ministry.  They now live in a very humble neighborhood surrounded by small, family-owned crops, and raw sewage running through their backyard.  Pastor Joseph is an incredibly sharp man with an absolute passion to help his congregation grow spiritually.  I believe he and his wife have two children, but the neighborhood kids are constantly surrounding their house so it’s hard to tell. 

     Last time we visited, they invited us into their home and fed us lunch.  This time we were also in their home as the room they usually use for church was being occupied by the school.  Six members were in attendance, including the pastor and his wife.  Though the group was small, my impression from the pastor was that he was soaking up everything he could receive, and was ready to pass it on to others.  He told us he feels strongly that he and the elders need to be part of each “movement” (youth, kids, women, choir, etc…) to support, encourage, supervise, and pray for them so they can be as effective as possible.  He’s making it a point to do everything he can to motivate and train up leaders in the church to take on the ministry, to reach more people.  I felt blessed to be able to support him in his vision and calling. 

     And now we’re just a few days away from the end of the first semester.  On Wednesday we’ll have a special Christmas presentation with the kids and parents of our little school.  Afterwards we’ll do a simple gift exchange and lunch.  Then on Thursday we head off to the Guinean mountains for some R&R, and assuredly some fresh, cool, mountain air. 

     We wish all of our friends and family members a Merry Christmas.  We miss you and look forward to seeing you in 2013.

Merry Christmas!  And Happy New Year!

Jen's bday

     Yesterday was Jen’s birthday.  To celebrate the occasion, we dropped the kids off at the Galvez’ and took off for Kamsar.  Our date included eating out for lunch, spending time at the pool, and Christmas shopping.  There aren’t a lot of options for shopping here so we’re having to be creative.  The nice thing is that I will successfully complete all my shopping without having to set even one foot in the mall.  Yippee!

       It’s strange being in a country where we’re the only ones celebrating Christmas.  The grocery store owner is a Catholic Lebanese, so he had some decorations up, but there isn’t a sign of Christmas anywhere else.  One of my favorite traditions at Christmas is to drive around to see Christmas lights.  When we moved to Panama, Jen and I were hard pressed to find many lights.  We did find one good street in Clayton that really decorates, but other than that it was pretty sparse.  Well, I’m pretty sure Guinea will take the cake in terms of no lighting.  The nice thing is we do have a tree, and Diana gave us some lights to hang up.  So between 6:30 and 7 p.m. (when the sun is still out but it’s dark enough to see the lights inside) we turn on the lights and sit there, basking in the soft, warm glow, trying to ignore the warmth of the evening air.  All that to say that even though it’s not Christmas in Guinea, Christmas still lives in our hearts.  It’s all part of the adventure, I guess.

     Following our shopping, we returned to the Galvez where we had a pizza party in Jen’s honor.  Diana and Corrine did an amazing job of cooking up a buffet of pizzas, followed by cake and homemade ice cream.  Pizza is Jen’s favorite comfort food right now, and ice cream is an amazing treat as it’s super expensive in the grocery store and you can’t get it anywhere else. 

    So my wife is now a year older, though still just as beautiful and young in spirit as before.  Jen’s comment on the day was, “it was different, but good.”  I guess there’s not much else to say when you’re celebrating life on a continent thousands of miles from your birth country.  Then again, that’s why I’m the one writing the really long blog posts while Jen sticks to facebook, haha!

Happy Birthday Jen!  I love you!

December 1^st, 2012

     The weather has finally changed.  For the past month Andres has been falsely predicting the last rain storm and the coming of the dry season.  He’s also been telling us it’s supposed to get cooler.  If we had been living in Old Testament times, we would have stoned him by now.  Fortunately for him, it seems the rains have finally stopped.  I was surprised how everyone seems excited for this.  From what I’ve heard it gets really dry here, all the grass dies out, and everything turns red and dusty—not something I think would be worth looking forward to.  However, for the farmers the dry season is good news, because it means they can harvest the peanuts.  This year already they’ve seen the peanuts begin to sprout new shoots.  This means they’re unusable.  So people are worried there will be a shortage of peanuts to sell, and fewer peanuts to replant next year.  Less crops means less income. 

     For Nicolas and Pablo, the dry season means more soccer.  So far for me it just means fewer puddles on the road, and less breeze in the air.  Up till now the weather has been warm all through the day, but the rains have brought in a nice, cool wind.  Without the rains we haven’t had that nice breeze to cool things down.  The air in our house seems to just sit there.  The heat seems pretty comparable to Panama’s, maybe not as humid, but then again we don’t have the comfort of retreating into our air conditioned home.  Instead we seem to just sweat.  It reminds of going to camp.  Camp was always sweaty, but even Chame had ceiling fans.  Our home here has ceiling fans, but they aren’t hooked up yet.  We’ve been bugging Cees to hook them up.  So far he’s been too busy to get around to it, or perhaps he’s dreading the fact that it’s such a big job.  Either way the fans continue to mock us, and we continue to sweat. 

     I do have to say, though, that the weather has been cooling down a little in the late evenings and early in the mornings.  It takes a while for the air in our home to feel this effect, but by about 2 a.m. we’re able to pull up the quilted blanket and feel nice and snug.  Of course this is all temporary.  We’re told that March ushers in the hot season.  By May the heat is supposed to be unbearable.  I don’t think it’s the sweltering, humid air of the tropics, but more of the dry, oppressive heat of the desert.  We’re told it gets so hot that people here sleep outside.  They just plop their mattresses in the front yard and do the best they can to stay cool.  Of course, the missionaries (ourselves included) all have water beds.  It’s true having the water under you does help a lot.  It’s strange though feeling cold underneath and warm above.  Usually it’s the opposite.  So, I guess we need to soak up this slightly cooler weather while it lasts, and hope that our family survives the heat later on.  School will be most interesting then.  Thankfully Cees did install the fans there, if only the power would stop turning off…  Never a dull moment in Guinea!

  Now for something a little more heavy than the weather.  A couple weeks ago I mentioned a young lady that had gotten rid of all her amulets in hopes of finding healing for a sickness.  The young lady's name is Dalouba.  Specifically the sickness is something that resembles epilepsy, though we believe her "spells" are spirit-based.  She has shared with Corinne that she is regularly plagued by dreams of demons visiting her.  Apparently in one of these dreams, a demon proposed to her and gave her a wedding ring.  The girl relates that she can vividly see this ring in the visions, though you can't see it in real life.  It's usually the day after she has one of these dreams that Dalouba will suddenly pass out and fall on the ground.
      Corinne has shared the gospel with her very clearly, and the girl has indicated that she believes in Jesus and has accepted Him into her heart.  For a while the spells went away, but now they're back.  We're pretty sure Satan is trying one last time to maintain his grip on this girl's life, and is unwilling to let her go.  Furthermore, many of her family members are closely watching this situation, waiting to see who is more powerful.  We also have suspicions of possible witchcraft being exerted against this girl because of the newfound faith she is professing.
      Today Dalouba was in church and the believers there all prayed for her.  Please pray for her also, that God would bind up the evil that is operating in her life, that He would set Dalouba free from this oppression, and that He would be glorified in such a way that more Jahangos would put their faith in Him.  Hallelujah!

November 27, 2012

     This past weekend was busy.  On Thursday we celebrated Thanksgiving as a team.  It was Jen and I’s first time hosting a Thanksgiving.  We had lots of fun rearranging the furniture, setting the table, and putting up decorations.  The meal itself was really tasty, and made me quite happy.  It was a little strange celebrating with a crowd that normally do not have Thanksgiving, and it was definitely strange that no one else in Guinea was celebrating along with us, but all in all we had a great time. 

     This year I am especially thankful for having the opportunity to be here in Guinea.  It was just about a year ago that we received the invitation to come here.  This year has been a welcome change of pace and scenery. We are also particularly grateful for the opportunity to support an “unreached peoples” project, watching God work to bring all nations into His Kingdom.  Since we have gotten here we’ve also been extremely grateful for the way God has answered so many of our prayers.  Protection, health, transition, a comfortable home, space and freedom from demanding neighbors, new ministry opportunities, all are things we’re so thankful to have.

   The day after Thanksgiving, as per our tradition, we redecorated our house with a Christmas theme.  Last year we had sent some of our Christmas stuff ahead with Andres’ parents.  The Galvez were also very thoughtful in buying some decorations from departing missionaries, including a fake Christmas tree and ornaments.  As we were decorating the house, the neighbor girls happened to show up for a lesson.  Instead, we invited them in, and they helped us decorate.  I then sat down with them and went through the Christmas story, explaining some of our themes like the stars and angel, the nativity scene, etc…  I don’t know if they understood it all, but they sure had fun.  Nathanael and Abi also enjoyed themselves, and are finally old enough to begin anticipating the big day.  Nat kept asking when we were going to fill his stocking. 

    Saturday, I taught a conference for the Sangaredi church.  We were expecting between 6 to 10 people, and ended up with 20.  The people seemed very appreciative, and the youth pastor held a small meeting afterwards to get people to commit to teaching the kids.  Up till now children’s ministry has mainly been babysitting the small kids while the adults sit in the service.  The pastor was excited that the kids would now be able to receive real teachings. 

     On Sunday we returned to Sangaredi for a marathon service (about 2 ½ hours).  One of the reasons it went so long was because they had a young man give a special bible study at the beginning of the service.  I think it was supposed to be like a Sunday School class, but instead of being separate from the service, they just added it as part of the program.  So, we were blessed to get two sermons for the price of one. 

     Following the service we then went on a tour of the BCG mine.  This is something we had hoped to do as a field trip for the kids, but the mine would only let us do it on a Sunday when there is less heavy machinery operating.  Mining bauxite and other minerals is one of Guinea’s greatest natural resources.  It’s so abundant, they don’t even go underground.  Instead, big tractors and trucks just dig it right out of the mountainside, leveling whole plateaus.  They then send it via a train to Kamsar, before shipping it off to Europe and the States.  They use this bauxite to produce aluminum, and it’s the sole reason for the more advanced community in Kamsar, the shopping center, the internet, and the pool.  Sangaredi also is more modern, with many neighborhoods looking almost like a suburban community in the U.S.  Of course, these homes are mostly for the foreign workers, not the nationals.  This is the same company that gives the mission free shipping and pool passes.  So of course after the tour of the mine, we had to go swimming.

     Back at school, we are now three and a half weeks away from Christmas break.  Each weekend before then will be equally packed with shopping trips, a missionary homeschool meeting, Jen’s birthday, and another seminar.  It seems like a lot, but I know time will fly.  Over Christmas we are planning to go to the mountains with the Galvez.  They promise us cooler weather and lots of good hiking.  I don’t think it will snow, but it’s the closest we’ll be able to get to a White Christmas.   We’re looking forward to the cold and the rest.

“Thank you, Lord, for your many blessings.  Thank you for hearing and answering our prayers.  Continue to manifest your power and love on our behalf. And please pour out your grace and forgiveness on our neighbors and the Jahango people.  Reveal yourself to them, soften their hearts, and send forth your Word with power.  Amen!”

November 18th, 2012

     “There’s a robber coming to rob our car!” exclaimed Nathanael from the back of the car.  We were on our way back from the beach a few weeks ago, when I decided to stop at a little town to get some bread and a few sodas.  As I got out, Jen stayed in the car with the kids.  The town was at the crossroads of two major roads, with all kinds of little stands and lots of people walking back and forth.  Jennifer quickly turned around to see what Nathanael was talking about.  Walking towards the car was a woman in a long black robe, covering her whole body, head to toe, with only a small slit for her eyes.  “That’s a lady in a burka,” Jen tried to explain.  Not really knowing what a burka is, Nat responded, “Is she a ninja?”

    These kinds of situations make me thankful for the opportunity to be here in Guinea.  There aren’t many women that wear burkas, but I’m happy that our children are being exposed to these cultural differences, able to experience and see things that some of their peers back home will never have the opportunity to see.

     Speaking of seeing, this past Friday Nat and I, accompanied by Andres, took a trip to Conakry to see an eye doctor.  There’s a Christian eye clinic there which was started by a swiss ophthalmologist.  The center is called Centre Bartime, named after blind Bartameus from the new testament.  Paintings of the event hang on the walls at the clinic, quoting verses from the Bible declaring that the man was healed because of his faith.    

     After driving 3 ½ hours to get to the capital, we were quickly ushered into a large waiting room full of people seeking help.  Not too long after, one of our contacts came to greet us and led us to the next room.  The attendant quickly tested Nathanael’s eyes using an eye chart with pictures of animals instead of letters.   During the first eye test, Nat answered in English and I translated.  During the test for the second eye, Nat impressed us all by using the French words for each picture.  We then proceeded to the Doctor’s office.  The office was a small room with three rows of chairs and three cubicles.  Behind each cubicle sat a different Doctor receiving patient after patient.  The doctors were very friendly and took good care of Nathanael.  Over the course of our discussion, the doctor confirmed the redness as some form of conjunctivitis.  He prescribed different drops to get rid of the infection.  He also confirmed what we already knew about the inward turning eyes and recommended a different treatment for that, indicating that surgery would only be necessary if the eyes hadn’t straightened out by the time Nathanael is eight years old.

     All in all, the visit didn’t give us much new information, but it did help give us peace that nothing major needs to be done at this time.  We’ll continue with the treatments we have been given, and continue to pray that Nathanael’s eyes straighten out over time.  We appreciate everyone’s prayers and support too, as many people have emailed and sent messages to encourage us and help us in this struggle.  We’re grateful that the Lord provided us with the opportunity to go to Conakry and have this visit.  It’s hard to tell if a drive that long was worth it, but we feel much more at ease now.  And by the way, the woman in the burka did not rob our car. 

p.s.  Last weekend I preached at our church in Boke on the importance of children in the kingdom of God.  This next weekend I will be doing a small training for children’s leaders in Sangaredi.  Praying that God will do big things in these areas, inviting more and more children into relationship with Him.  

Nat's eyes

     About three months before we departed for Guinea, Nathanael’s right eye suddenly turned drastically inward.  We noticed it doing this a couple times before, but suddenly it was like it just got stuck there.  Like when your mom tells you not to make faces because it might stay that way.  I assumed it might be because he was now having to apply himself more and more to reading, but I also wondered if it might be something spiritual.  This change happened right around the same time we announced we were moving to Guinea.

     Over the next few months we had the eye looked at a few different times.  The doctor prescribed glasses with bifocals to help train the eye to look straight again.  After looking all over Panama for glasses that fit, we finally found a pair that seemed to work, but then we had to take them back a couple times to adjust the prescription.  When we finally got the glasses it was time to leave.

     So far the glasses seem to help a little, but it’s hard for Nathanael to look through them so he usually just looks over them.  Then this past week we noticed some redness in his good eye.  Upon looking closer there seemed to be a sore or small bump in that eye.  We also noticed this eye turning in on occasion, which really got us worried.  How is our son supposed to see if both his eyes go crossed?  It’s hard too because he is really progressing with his reading, and he wants desperately to play sports with the older boys, but his eyes give him trouble, and he has a hard time focusing.  So Andres and I took him to the clinic.  My biggest concern was the redness and the bump.  I thought maybe the good eye was turning in because it was now experiencing this other trouble, and it is used to being covered up with the patch. 

     The Boke clinic is a small office on the hospital grounds.  The reception is a large empty room with wooden benches around the walls and dusty floors.  There’s nothing on the walls except for a poster with the grossest looking eye problems you’ve ever seen.  The “doctors” there were trained by a special medical mission.  I’m not sure what this means, but I’m guessing they were taught to recognize the biggest, most common eye problems and prescribe basic treatments and medications.  These two guys were very friendly and invited Nathanael to meet with them once a week to teach them English.  When they inspected the redness in the eye, they immediately diagnosed it as conjunctivitis (what Jennifer calls pinkeye) and prescribed antibiotic drops for it.  They also explained a little about what they knew for the lazy eyes, mentioning that Nathanael should see a pediatric ophthalmologist.  “But there aren’t any in all of Africa,” he told me.  “Well, not in Guinea, at least.  Maybe in Senegal.”  Even in Conakry most eye specialists are just optometrists, trained to help you with your eye prescription, not diagnose major problems.

      We’ve applied the drops now for the past four days, but the redness is still there and the little bump still hasn’t gone away.  To make matters even more confusing, we are in the process of dialoguing with the Galvez and CBC about plans for next year.  Of course everyone (including ourselves) wants to know if we’re staying or going back.  The eye thing only complicates things as we all wonder if Nathanael needs more serious treatment, including possibly surgery for the inward turning eyes. 

     Nathanael has remained really good natured about all of this, being especially brave at the doctor’s office and taking his drops.  But for me,this whole process has been very difficult.  I can travel, I can move, I can put up with no water, no electricity, trying new foods, etc…, but I have a really hard time watching my kids suffer.  It’s really rough on my faith.  Most of my prayers seem to be prayers of desperation, crying out to God to heal my son and deliver us from this once and for all.  For a while I will feel ok, regain strength, and then another problem will surface and I’m on my knees, begging God for help.  I know God is good.  I know God cares.  I know God is in control and has the best of plans for me and my son.  It’s just that it feels like He’s not listening, like He’s not doing anything.  The distance between my head and my heart is stretching my faith like a thin rubber band.  The good news about being on the mission field, though, is that faith is all we have.  We don’t have too many other options, doctors or hospitals.  God is all we’ve got.

     So we’re praying for a miracle.  We’re praying for guidance and wisdom.  I’m praying for strength.  Other than this problem, I feel great.  Our school is going really well.  The ministry opportunities are starting to show signs of good fruit.  God has kept us safe and healthy.  But this eye thing is the thorn in my flesh.  Like Paul, I’m crying out to God to remove it.  But for now the only answer seems to be, “My grace is sufficient for you.” 

     “If that’s your answer, Lord, please give me more.  I need your grace.  I need you.  Amen!”

November 8, 2012

     It’s been almost four months since we left home.  We’re now at the point of the transition where it’s feeling almost normal to be here.  We’ve settled into a routine, gotten used to filling up buckets for showers, filtering our drinking water, monitoring our solar panels, and putting on insect repellent.  The school routine is also feeling normal, getting into that smooth and steady rhythm when teachers and students alike all look forward to the next break.  This is also about the time when we are starting to feel more homesick.  For me Thanksgiving is especially difficult as it’s my favorite holiday to spend with family. We’ve started making our plans with our team, but I know it won’t be the same.  Still I enjoy talking about our little U.S. holiday with such an international group.  Seeing as the root of it (giving thanks) is so Christian, it will be a great occasion for us to celebrate. 

     Interestingly enough, our team decided on having a traditional American feast, as opposed to an international potluck.  I’m sure it will be difficult to find some of the items we need for this (I’m thinking in particular of my favorites:  stuffing and green bean casserole), but it will be fun to see what we can come up with.  Hopefully by then the weather will have started to cool down.  Fall is my favorite time of year in the states, and this time of year Guinea is supposed to cool down as well.  As the rain stops and the sky clears the temperature is supposed to drop, at least in the mornings and in the evenings (not so sure about mid afternoon).  So far though we’re still having regular rain showers, and it isn’t much cooler.  So we’ll see what happens.

      Other than that, it seems as though our team is being challenged to step up and share the gospel more freely.  The NTM recommendation is to wait to share the gospel until you can do it in the tribal language.  But as our team talks about a possible extended furlough next year, I think they’re realizing that time is running short.  God is challenging them to share the gospel every opportunity they get, even if it means doing so in French, simply trusting God for the translation.  It’s exciting to watch and hear of different conversations our team members are having.  Recently Andres and Diana have been sharing with Bangoura, their language helper.  He’s been helping them translate children’s Bible stories into the Jahango language.  As he’s been doing that, he’s taken a deep interest in the stories and is asking a lot of questions.  Last week, as a follow up to one of their sessions, he asked how Jesus could possibly be the Son of God.  “Just because your dad is a carpenter doesn’t necessarily make you a carpenter,” went his reasoning.  The team is excited and praying for him as he is wrestling with these complicated truths.

     Simacan is another man Andres has been sharing with.  They’ve recently gotten to the part in the study where it discusses Jesus’ true nature as God.  Simacan is also asking a lot of questions, hungry to know more. 

     Last week too, a pair of ladies from Correrah asked for prayer for deliverance from evil spirits.  Following this prayer time they returned and gave away all their charms and magic medallions.  The friend of the gal being prayed for told Corinne, “if this works, I will believe in your God.” 

     Finally, Cees has asked for special prayer for their driver.  This is a man they have had a long term relationship with, and they recently asked him to go along with them to Senegal in order to finalize some documents for Jeremiah’s adoption.  The Snetselaars didn’t really need to bring him along, but they felt like this would be a perfect opportunity to really share Christ with him and allow him to experience life in a Christian family.  We’re hoping and praying that God will really touch his heart during this trip. 

     Another area God seems to be challenging our team is in the area of finances.  For a long time the missionaries here have generously served the village of Correrah, paying for kids’ education, medical needs, and a variety of other reasons.  In many instances, however, this financing seems to have developed more of an entitlement and dependency on the missionaries, without bearing much fruit in terms of relationship and receptivity to the gospel.  While each new situation still requires great wisdom and prayer, it seems like God is challenging us to rethink our strategies and reconsider this position of wealthy patron or rich donor.  This is rather difficult in a society where the expectation is for the wealthier members of society to support the poor, and where the wealthy members use their money to buy themselves greater status and honor in the community.  It’s mostly self-centered, each group using the other for its own advancement and prosperity.  There seems to be little by way of true generosity or love.  Thus it’s difficult for the missionaries to participate in this system.  If we don’t give, we’re seen as greedy and selfish.  If we do, our generosity is often abused without much gratitude on behalf of the recipients.

     Jennifer and I have been fortunate to escape most of this so far.  We’ve had the beggar women approach us in town, but no one as of yet has come to our door begging for money or asking for special favors.  That may change tonight as we have invited Calissa, our bread guy, to come over for dinner.  He’s mentioned a few times that he wants to visit us and talk, because I once asked him about his intentions to study at the local college.  He mentioned to me that he had applied to the school but was waiting on the financing to see if he would be accepted.  Andres told me that this often means that the director is waiting for a bribe in order to give the student a spot in the school. 

     It’s difficult to know whether or not to help the student and thereby participate in the corruption, or to stand on principle and refuse to help someone who clearly has no other option of being accepted into the system.  Last week our team was talking about a similar situation, discussing the fact that higher education here often isn’t worth the cost, not because the education is bad, but because there are so few jobs even with an “advanced degree.”  This was quite a shock to me, having come from the West where education, and especially higher education, is constantly stressed and is considered an absolute must.  The most useful path for a young person in Guinea, however, isn’t to go to the University.  Instead the best course is to learn a trade which is much more marketable, though perhaps less profitable.

      I guess it just goes to show how different our societies are.  Maybe it’s because we are more advanced in the West, maybe it’s just that our situations are so much different.  Either way I feel for these young men and women.  It’s gotta be tough competing for jobs when so few are available, trying to advance oneself when advancement is way out of reach.  It definitely doesn’t give one much motivation to go to school.  In the West we use university and careers to motivate teenagers to study hard and finish high school.  But if education isn’t important in giving you a better job, then why bother?  I know these issues and more are the root causes behind the widespread poverty in Africa, but they’re not issues that will be solved overnight, and they’re definitely not issues we’re going to be able to solve during our time here.  I just want to know how to help a guy that brings me bread every day.  I suppose giving him business on a regular basis is probably one of the best forms of help I can give him, other than being his friend and sharing Christ with him. 

 “Dear Lord, please move and work in the hearts of these people.  Please give us wisdom and discernment in how to handle the various issues that come our way.  Please guide us in how and when to share the gospel.  Grant us opportunities to do so.  Open the doors and pave the way.  May you do a great work in and through us, and even without us, so that we might rejoice in your power and share in your glory.  Thank you, Jesus, for including us in your plans to save the world.  May your Kingdom come and your will be done in Guinea as it is in Heaven.  Amen.”

p.s.  We just had dinner with Calissa.  We had him try spaghetti for the first time, which he didn’t really like though he was very polite to try it.  He didn’t ask for money for school, because it seems he was discouraged by his friends to even find out how much it (the bribe) would cost him to get in.  He did hint at needing funds to be able to buy his own motorcycle.  Apparently the one he uses is a rental and most of the money he makes goes to the owner.  It’s also very hard on him because he basically supports his whole family.  His father is in the hospital, his mother is too old to work, and his brother is lazy.  I’m not sure how true his story is, but these things are very common here.  In the end I told him I couldn’t just give him money, but I would be happy to give him work whenever we could in order to help him out. 

     From there we somehow found our to talking about religion.  I asked him if he knew what it meant to be a Christian and if he wanted to know more about it.  He said he did, so we sat down and went through the gospel message using the illustrations from a Bible cloth.  The conversation seemed to flow naturally, and he genuinely sounded interested.  He responded by saying that he felt like he understood what I was saying and was very grateful to me for sharing.  I told him it’s not enough just to listen, but eventually you have to make a choice, to accept Jesus or not.  I urged him to think about it and invited him to come back if he wanted to talk about it some more.  He suggested we do it again next week. 

    “Thank you, Lord, for this opportunity.  Please move and work in Calissa’s heart as he considers your message, your truth, your Son.  Amen!”

 October 28, 2012

     I just spent most of the afternoon and part of this evening trying to download another post to the blog.  The internet connection has been getting worse and worse.  I need at least 30 bps (bites per second) to upload a post to the blog, and lately the numbers have been hovering around 10 bps.  Andres also has indicated he’s having trouble getting online.  It’s gotten so bad he doesn’t even try anymore and gave Cees his internet stick.  Now the only method they have of communicating with the outside world is through Diana’s blackberry.  Thankfully we have blackberry service too which allows us at least to receive and reply to emails, and also text using BBM and What’sApp.  But since I don’t have many people’s contact info on my phone, I can’t just send an email whenever I feel like it.  And updating the blog is near impossible, especially if I want to include pictures.

    For the past month Andres has been trying very hard to get one of the wi-fi boxes from the cell phone company.  After getting the run around with the company guy, it finally looked like he had a solid lead through the grocery store owner.  But when we tested a signal stick we found out there isn’t a strong enough signal in all of Boke to get data.  The only place you can get any kind of signal is right next to the towers, and even then it’s still slow.  Then there’s still the problem of getting electricity to the box.  Part of the culture here is that people do not want to admit when they make a mistake.  So it’s not surprising that the cell phone guy kept telling Andres the box was coming when he knew very well the signal wasn’t strong enough to serve our needs.  One weekend Andres even spent over two hours in the restaurant in Kamsar, waiting for the guy to show up and give him the box.  The guy assured him he was on his way, but never showed up. 

     So it looks like we’re just going to have to deal with really slow internet and/or waiting for the weekends to go to Kamsar.  This has probably been the hardest adjustment to life in Guinea.  Please pray for us in this respect, and send us emails as often as you think of us, and be patient when the blog isn’t updated regularly.  Thank you.

Lord, please grant us patience as we learn to live without “regular” means of communication.  Please keep us close to family and friends despite the lack of regular contact.  And please help our supporters to remember to lift us up in prayer even when we aren’t able to keep them up to date on our developments.  Thank you Lord for those times we are able to connect.  Thank you for the technology that does allow us to stay in contact with our loved ones.  We pray for a better solution and more regular means of contact, Lord.  Nothing is impossible with God.  Amen.

p.s.  I just prayed this post into existence.  As I was waiting for the site to download, I started praying fervently (the prayer of a desperate man) for the signal to go up.  As I prayed, I watched the signal numbers jump and down.  Then suddenly they started rising higher, little by little.  I prayed even more.  The numbers increased more.  Whenever I grew lax in my prayers, the numbers dropped.  Whenever I increased my prayers, the numbers rose.  It was quite an odd feeling to be able to measure the fervency and effectiveness of my prayers, but I believe God was answering and teaching me a lesson on the power of prayer at the same time.  Strangely enough last week, I gave a measure on “importunate prayer.”  Praying like the widow before the sinful judge, persistently bugging the judge until she got what she wanted. 

Thank you, Lord for allowing me to make these posts.  Thank you for the power of prayer.  

 October 26

     This past weekend felt like Christmas.  First the packages arrived.  Then it was Tabasky. 

     For the missionary community, package time is awaited with much excitement and anticipation.  Every two months a ship from the mining company arrives, carrying with it containers full of merchandise for the stores, and packages for the missionaries.  So for the past two weeks everyone has been talking about the date the ship was going to arrive.  Then it was the question of how long it would take to get all the paper work for the packages to clear customs.  Finally the day arrived and Andres drove out to Kamsar to pick up the boxes.  That whole morning the kids in school kept talking about packages. “Are you expecting lots of boxes?  Who is sending you a package?  What do you think will be in them?”    

     Quite frankly Jen and I weren’t sure if we would get any.  We knew our families had sent some boxes, but we weren’t sure if they had gotten to the ports in time for this shipment or if they would arrive in the next one.  We were quite surprised when Diana informed us that Andres had picked up 7 packages for us and was on his way home from Kamsar.  About an hour later, Andres pulled into our driveway and delivered 6 large shoeboxes.  “Sometimes it happens that they miscount a box or another family takes the wrong box home,” Andres announced regarding our “missing” package.  This explanation didn’t bother us a bit as we were still very much surprised to have any packages, let alone six or seven.  We then proceeded to read the labels to figure out who on earth had sent us these marvelous gifts.  The four from our families were expected, and since we knew they contained gifts for Christmas we decided to wait and open those when the kids were asleep.  So we proceeded to open the two mystery packages.  Both boxes were from friends at CBC and contained a random assortment of gifts from seasoning packets, to candy, gifts for the kids and a whole assortment of goodies. 

     As our kids danced around with their newfound possessions, I was blown away at the kindness and generosity of these gifts.  It wasn’t just the fact that we had received unexpected presents, it was the feeling of home that came with them: a taste of home in the familiar products, and the knowledge that someone back home was thinking of us.  We were further surprised when Andres called and informed us that he had two additional boxes for us, presents that had been included in their stash of goods.   

     Of course the following day that’s all the kids could talk about again.  We spent our journal time sharing all the wonderful blessings we had received, comparing the contents of our packages, and discussing which items were our favorites and which items were, well, a little weird.  All in all it was so much fun, and we now understand why package time is looked forward to with so much excitement.  My only concern now is that Christmas will feel like somewhat of a let-down, having celebrated all these gifts so early.  I suppose it might be healthy for us, though, giving us more cause to focus on Christ as the real reason for the holiday.  Still, I have to admit, I’m definitely looking forward to the next shipment.  I wonder what surprises will await us then.

Thank you, family, and thank you, Lord, for your amazing generosity and love.  We are so blessed!

     The second reason this weekend felt like Christmas is Tabasky (spelling?).  Other than sounding like a popular brand of hot sauce, Tabasky is a religious holiday also nicknamed “la fete du mouton”, or the celebration of the sheep.  It’s the time Muslims remember that God provided a ram for Abraham to sacrifice instead of his son; except Islam teaches that Abraham was going to sacrifice Ishmael, not Isaac.  I’m not sure why this is cause for celebration, though, considering the fact that Muslims still don’t have a way to atone for their sins.  Basically Muslims believe they are saved by following the five pillars and being good Muslims.  But no Muslim truly knows if he is good enough to get into paradise.  The only guarantee for that is Jihad, or as we know it, suicide bombers.  Nevertheless every Tabasky, Muslims get together and have a great big feast, slaughtering a perfect ram and then roasting it over a fire. 

     Apparently in Boke Tabasky is even bigger than Independence Day or the end of Ramadan.  The day started at 5 a.m. with a marching band blasting away down in Correrah.  By 9 a.m. our neighbors already had visitors arriving to help with the preparations.  By noon the ram had been sacrificed, and the women were finishing up their cooking.  Some light singing and dancing ensued, a warm up round in preparation for the bigger dance festival later on.  At 2 p.m., the Mosque called for an assembly and delivered a series of speeches and prayers which we could hear over the megaphones.  That done, the real party began.  Drums and whistles could be heard all over, people dancing in the courtyards, everyone eating and having a good time. 

     During the course of the morning our neighbors had invited us several times to come over and join them, so finally after school (CCA doesn’t observe Muslim holidays, sorry) I walked over to check things out.  Immediately I was greeted by our neighbors as well as our landlord who happened to be here for this special occasion.  It seems that the neighbor ladies have a sister who holds some kind of high position in the government.  The landlord quickly ushered me over to introduce me to her.  It wasn’t hard to figure out which one she was.  Right there in the center of the courtyard, in the best spot under the shade of the tree, on a nice luxurious couch, surrounded by an entourage of ministers and body guards, sat a rather large woman, dressed in very elegant, African costume, eating roasted goat liver.  It’s amazing how important status is here.  All day long this woman was escorted here and there by her entourage, always being given the best seat in the house, treated like royalty everywhere she went, in spite of the fact that she is a member of the family.  Still, she was very kind and friendly, and even offered me some of her liver.  Of course I had to say “yes;” I couldn’t resist.

      It also seems like it was this woman’s political party that sponsored the celebrations for our neighborhood.  Right behind our compound, a large p.a. system was set up with really loud music and really bad sound.  Seeing as we couldn’t escape the noise, our family decided to walk over and join in.  As we arrived, the emcee had just finished introducing all the important people and then proceeded to introduce a local singer/artist.  The artist was backed by a large chorus of women all wearing white dresses bearing the picture of the current president.  As the music began, I realized the song was propaganda for the President’s political party.  Though I couldn’t understand the words, it was easy enough to recognize the names of Alpha Conde spoken over and over again.  It was so catchy, I’ve been singing it ever since. 

     Following this performance the minister produced a wad of bills and literally showered the musicians with money.  One of the members of her entourage then stood up and gave a long speech, thanking the community for their support and reminding them to vote for them in the next elections.  The campaigning having ended, they gave the microphone to the “griots.”  These women are about the same caliber as the beggar women from the independence celebrations.  This time, however, instead of shouting at you through their megaphones they were backed by a whole p.a. system.  For 15 minutes these women sang loud, tragic songs, in high-pitched, raspy voices.  The ones who weren’t on the microphone marched around in a circle, performing elaborate, somber-looking dances, each one taking an extended turn in front of the minister.  Apparently she was unmoved by their performances as no money came forth this time.  Our landlord, however, feeling particularly generous, or perhaps as an attempt to shut the women up, jumped up and handed out bills of money to all the participants.  This is when Jen and I decided to leave.  We had already had a couple women ask us for money, and we were sure more would come our way after the performances.  It’s rather difficult to hide when you’re the only white person in a crowd of Africans. 

     At the conclusion of all of this, I walked away feeling rather confused, but as the party continued on, it was clear this occasion was a grand time for our whole neighborhood, a time of joy and laughter, a time of family and friends, a time of food and fellowship, a time of dancing and music.  It was fun to see everyone’s merriment, the fancy clothes (and hair pieces) brought out just for the occasion, big pots of food boiling over hot coals, the big drums and even bigger smiles.  It’s clear God has given us all a great capacity and need for joyous occasions. 

     So while it has felt a lot like Christmas around here, I have been reminded again of the amazing gift we have in Jesus, and the amazing privilege of sharing this gift with others.  Perhaps one day my neighbors will have cause for even greater celebration when they discover that God has provided a lasting and eternal sacrifice in the form of His Son, Jesus.  I pray that day comes soon.

     October 22, 2012

     Usually when you walk up to someone’s door you’ll knock or ring the doorbell.  But in the case that the door is already open, you might call out, “Knock! Knock!”  In Guinea people’s doors and windows are always open, but instead of saying, “knock, knock” people call out, “Kong! Kong!”  The first time I heard this, I was totally confused.  “What is that noise?” I thought.  Finally I realized it was people “knocking” at the door.  If that’s not strange enough, however, the answer to the question, “who’s there?” is simply, “It’s me,” as if we should automatically recognize everyone’s voice. 

     We weren’t sure why people always say this until Jennifer was sitting in the kids’ French class last week.  Sure enough, the teacher told them, “First you say, ‘Kong, Kong!’  Then you say, ‘Who’s there?’  And then you say, ‘It’s me!’  That way if your parents are busy you’ll know it’s safe to answer the door.”  We were pretty floored by this answer and the kids were too, because they just stared at him in disbelief.  We aren’t sure what a robber or a thief would say if he were coming to visit us, but apparently anyone who is willing to acknowledge they are themselves is safe to let in the door.  So much for stranger danger…

     On a more serious note, last week Jennifer was doing a parachute lesson as part of her science class.  After she had the kids launch their own little parachute men, Jen brought out the big parachute (the kind they use in elementary P.E. classes).  One of the neighbor girls happened to be walking by at that moment and was totally enthralled.  So after class we invited the neighbors to join us in some parachute games.  Of course the adult women had to come watch too. 

     Following this I took the opportunity to have one of our little Bible lessons with the girls, using one of the children’s picture Bibles.  The women also stayed to listen.  As I told the story of Moses and the 10 plagues, I was amazed to watch as one of the women began translating into Landouma, explaining the stories to the other women around.  Our nearest neighbor seemed very opposed, shaking her head in disbelief, but the other women kept arguing with her trying to convince her that they were indeed true.  We were further amazed as we overheard the ladies later on retelling the story to the rest of our neighbors.  We couldn’t understand the words, but it was clear by the gestures and expressions on their faces what they were talking about, and that they were definitely impacted by the stories.  So we’re excited to see what God will do with this.  It’s clear there is spiritual hunger there, and I hope to further build on this opportunity.  Perhaps this is what the Jahango have been missing all along…parachute evangelism.  Actually, as we shared this with Diana, she became very excited, longing for an opportunity to do similar Bible stories with the women and kids of her village.  “Watch out Correrah!  Here comes the chute!”

     “Dear Lord, please continue to move in the hearts of these neighbors.  Please remove the hardness and stubbornness of some.  Please grant us more opportunities like these to share your word with them, and also with the Jahango. Please lead us to a time when we can clearly share with them the good news of Jesus Christ. Pour out your grace on them that they might put their faith in you. Amen!”

Most people go on vacation to disconnet from the world.  This weekend Jen and I decided to go on vacation to reconnect to the world.  We're staying at Le Hotel Kamsar, which is really more like a motel, but it's the only hotel in town and it has a/c, hot water, and wi-fi.  So far we have had trouble with the connection but I thought I would take the chance to download some pictures.  Most of these are from a bike ride I took a coulple weekends ago.  This is the road that leads all the way up to Guinea-Bissau and then Senegal.  The people all along the way were very friendly and so excited to see a "fote", white person.  Only a couple of them asked for money or refused to have their picture taken.  Everyone else was very obliging and wanted me to print the pictures to give them to them.  My favorite is the picture of the dancing women.  They must have thought I was filming them cause they spontaneously broke out into song and dance when I asked if I could take their picture.  It's so amazing to me that this scenery and these beautiful people live just outside our back door.  Enjoy!

Teenage girls

Big Tree on Village Road

 

October 11, 2012

          One of the questions we asked the Gumbs prior to leaving Panama, was what they did for fun in Guinea.  Gustavo laughed and told us, “you are the fun!”  Now I know what he meant.  The truth is there just isn’t that much to do here.  So far our weekends usually involve going into Kamsar or staying home.  Kamsar isn’t much bigger than Boke, but they have electricity which means we can also get internet (at the grocery store). They also have a hotel with a pool, and two choices of restaurants.  The restaurants are “nice.”  That means they have a/c.  According to U.S. or Panamanian standards the food would be considered tolerable, but since they’re the only options available that makes the food really good.  Mostly they serve “brochettes” (kebabs), hot dogs, hamburgers, and one of the places has pizzas (about $10 for a personal pepperoni pizza, $7 if you’ll settle for ham).  Both restaurants are Lebanese owned (as are the grocery stores) so they also have a small assortment of Lebanese dishes.  I haven’t tried them all but I do enjoy the shwarmas. 

     The bummer is that neither of the places serves Guinean foods.  For that you have to try the truly local “restaurants” in Boke.  By restaurant I mean, Aunt Nana’s patio decked out with a few plastic tables and some lawn chairs.  Of course none of the missionaries can really recommend any of these places because no one is brave enough to try them.  The question always is whether or not the food is safe.  Nobody really wants to risk a stomach virus just to be able to eat out.  So the only time we’re able to really eat African is on Thursdays when our maid cooks for our school.  So far we have had two main kinds of dishes.  The first one is a peanut based sauce.  The second one is a red sauce based in palm oil.  Fatime adds variety by alternating between cooking beef or chicken with either of these sauces.  And they’re always served with a heaping plate of rice.  Both Fatime and Salu can pack down a ton of food when these dishes are served.  The food is very, very good, but again the disappointment is that we can’t get it anywhere else.

     So again the question is what do we do for fun?  Other than catching up on the blog, taking a shower with running water (the only real shower of the week), and prepping for school, so far we’ve entertained ourselves by watching movies, playing wii, and visiting our neighbors.  I go running or bike riding in the mornings, but after 9 a.m. it’s too hot and sunny to do anything active.  That’s why the locals generally congregate under the trees outside, trying to move as little as possible so as to conserve energy and reduce the sweating.  It’s not as easy for us Americans who are used to constant activity.  I guess we are the product of an entertainment based culture and are suffering the consequences of that.  In some ways I’m grateful for the change, and in some ways I miss being at home.  At this point I would even settle for some reruns on T.V., which happens to be what the Galvez do.  The last time in Conakry they were able to borrow a collection of the Cosby Show.  Now don’t get me wrong, I love the Huxtables, but when you’re watching T.V. that’s that old, things are pretty bad.  Ultimately I guess the problem isn’t that we’re bored, but that we are boring.  If we are the fun, then we’re gonna have to relearn what it means to have fun.

Thank you, Lord, for your provision.  Thank you that we can afford to eat out.  Thank you that we do have places like Kamsar to go to.  Thank you that we have solar panels, tv’s, and computers.  Thank you, God, for blessing us with family and friends to spend time with.  Thank you for giving us good health and freedom.  Thank you, Lord, for your many blessings and the joy that fills our hearts.  Help us to have positive attitudes and to see the good in all you’ve given to us.  Help us to use our time wisely and productively, to enjoy rest, but also to develop our spirits and our minds in ways that would be honoring to you.  Give us creativity, Lord, to spend quality time as a family.  Draw us closer to one another and closer to you.  Amen.

     On another note, this last week I started meeting with the neighbor girls.  Their family gave me permission to teach them Bible stories and some French.  At this point only the oldest girl, Fatou, is going to school.  The other two, Fatoumata and Dima (about 9 and 6 years old, respectively) stay at home and work, carrying buckets of water back and forth from our back yard, doing laundry, and helping our neighbor take care of her baby.  I’m not entirely sure why they don’t go to school, but I’m hoping my little lessons will give them some basic form of education and a leg up on life.  Of course my real intention is to share the gospel with them.  We’re working our way up to it using a picture bible that has no words.  It’s slow going as the girls struggle even understanding French.  Fatoumata understands the most out of the three, but even that is pretty meager. 

     Isabella has joined me for a couple of these sessions, and is helpful in providing an example of repeating phrases and imitating motions.  Since the girls have never been in school they don’t even have a concept of simple classroom routines.  You can tell Dima especially isn’t used to sitting still for very long, as her attention is constantly pulled to anything else that is moving.  Still, the girls are always eager to come over.  They have started drifting over now each afternoon just to see if we will have class or not.  As part of our time, Isa and I have also been teaching them basic games and songs, trying to recapture at least a piece of their childhood.  I can’t imagine growing up without learning those basic childhood songs and games that so many of us take for granted.  Yet for them these things are totally foreign and you can tell by their behavior. 

     Jennifer also has made friends with our neighbors.  Her companion is the little baby from next door.  Little Fatou (yes it’s the same name as the girls above, and her mom shares the same name as well) squeals with delight every time Jen walks by.  She’s just learned to walk, and she often escapes and tries to climb over to our side of the yard to play.  Her mom usually comes to get her as fast as she can, but she gets a kick out of telling her friends that her baby is best friends with the fote (white woman).  Last week was a hard week for her too as baby Fatou was going through a very colicky phase.  Every time Jen walked by, mom would run inside to get Fatou just so Jen could hold her for a while.  It seemed to be the only way she could get her to stop crying.  Jen’s also been using these opportunities to pray over the little girl as she can pray in any language she wants and also lay hands on her at the same time.  It’s difficult seeing the little Fatou wearing amulets and strange prayer beads, not knowing what strange spirits may be at work in her life already.  We’ve also heard rumors that the husband hangs out at the bar a lot, drinking and doing drugs.  He’s a really friendly guy but isn’t around much.  Fatou, the mom, is a very somber woman and smiles very seldom.  We’re praying God would give us opportunity to share Christ with them, and we’re trying our best to express His love through simple acts of kindness.

     Finally, this past week one of the elderly women from across the way was telling me her knees really bother her.  I asked if I could pray for her.  She willingly agreed, and when I was finished asked me to come back every day to pray for her again.  Yesterday I went back with the whole family and we all prayed for her again.  This time I told her I pray in the name of Isa el Massih (Jesus the Messiah), who is the son of God.  The only way she is going to be healed is through faith in Him.  She told me she had prayed with the pastor before and apparently is familiar with his church, though there doesn’t seem to be a real understanding of the gospel.  We’re hoping God does something special in her life and that of the whole family. 

   Please, Lord, bless our neighbors.  Bring healing to this woman’s knees so she can walk with you all the days of her life.  Reveal your truth to the little girls, give them a hope and a future in Jesus.  Bless the Coumbassa family as well, and deliver them from folk Islam, any spiritual and religious lies they have believed, as well as the drugs and alcohol that tempts them.  Use us God to share your love and your word with those around us.  Fill us with your Holy Spirit that they might see Christ in us.  Be glorified, Lord Jesus.  Thank you, Father, for giving us the opportunity to speak into these people’s lives and to share your love in this part of the world.  Amen.

October 3rd

     Yesterday was the grand 54^th Anniversary of Independence Day  of Guinea.  Cees invited Jen, Andres, and I to join him and his landlord to go into town to see the celebrations.  After dropping the kids off with Diana and her kids, we drove through Correrah to the river.  There we embarked on a “pirogue” (dug-out canoe) to cross to the other side.  After a temporary delay by some soldiers (apparently it’s illegal to photograph the military) we hiked up the hill past the local garbage dump into the center of town.  We then followed our guide (Cees’ landlord) to try to find a good viewpoint where we could watch the parade.  Unfortunately there didn’t seem to be any good point to view it from.  The place was jam-packed.  Guinea’s idea of a parade, at least one in Boke, is to demolish a string of buildings therefore creating enough space for a plaza, to set up a grand stand to seat all the dignitaries, and then to have the parade pass by the grandstand, make a quick loop through the plaza and end.  This means literally hundreds of thousands of people were all crowded around the perimeter of the plaza trying to get a glimpse what was happening in the center. 

     So finally we thought we had found a good spot to watch from, aided by the fact that our guide found a rock that Jen could stand on.  This spot also happened to be right on the edge of a main walk way where old widows came by carrying handheld megaphones.  Their fundraising strategy is to yell at you through the megaphone until you give in to peer pressure and give them money.  Apparently it’s more effective if they travel in groups too.  So you have five or six women all yelling at you from their megaphones until you give in.  Thankfully Cees was apparently in a generous mood and had a stash of cash in his pocket just for the occasion.  But these weren’t the only people stopping by to ask for money.  We also had some clowns, musicians, and kids.  And of course, more groups of widows.  Cees appeased them all with a joke and some cash.

     Eventually, some activity other than the beggars caught our attention.  The president arrived.  I didn’t exactly see him through the crowd, but we could tell it was him by the cars, the choppers, and everyone craning their necks, standing on each other’s shoulders, and employing any and all means to get a glimpse of him.  I think Jen spotted him from her rock.  This was also about the time that some bright young man decided to climb onto the roof of the nearby store.  After about twenty or so other bright young men decided to join him, the roof collapsed and nearly smashed the crowd below.  The good news from this was that there was now more rubble for people to stand on. 

     Then the parade began, not just once, however, but three or four times.  The reason we could tell was that the people in the grandstand stood up and cheered three or four times but then nothing else would happen.  Finally, after a few false starts the parade did begin in earnest.  I got some good glimpses of it by holding the digital camera up above the crowd, but that’s when the crowd began to push against the military so they could get a better view.  The soldiers tried pushing them back, literally shoving them off the edges of the plaza and beating them with their belts.  Things started to get rough (and hot) so we decided to move on to try to find a better view.  The view we eventually found wasn’t much better and indeed the crowd there was getting more restless too.  Suddenly, a gang of celebrants decided to form a parade of their own, pushing their way through the crowd going nowhere in particular, like a conga line only five or six people wide.  The crowd pushed back.  Things got intense.  We left.

     All in all it was definitely a learning experience.  Jennifer especially was able to make lots of interesting observations, including taking notes on some really interesting make-up and hair styles—many of the women here choose to wear wigs, and no one has a problem painting on eyebrows.  I didn’t quite have the courage to take any close up pictures of these, but it’s the first time I’ve seen blondes, brunettes and red heads with such dark skin.  Actually, now that I think about, the hairdos and outfits were probably the most interesting things I saw in all of this.  Even the bits and pieces of the parade seemed to be pretty plain, mostly schools and companies walking by in their official uniforms.  And to top it all off, on our way back to the boats Cees stopped a bit to talk to some acquaintances.  When he caught up with us, he told us he had just seen the President.  Sure enough he had a picture to prove it.  There was the President of Guinea, special guest to the little tiny town of Boke, walking out of the building we had just passed by only two minutes earlier.

  Later that night I spoke with one of the other missionaries who had gone down town to see the celebrations.  “How did it go?” I asked.  “Great,” he said.  “I definitely wouldn’t want to do that every week, or maybe even ever again, but I just had to do it.”  That pretty much sums it up for me too.  I probably don’t ever want to do that again, but I was glad I did it.

 P.S.  (can I write a post script at the end of a blog?) the best part of having the President visit your district, more than the freshly painted rocks on the side of the road, is that the water is turned on 24/7.   Today at 5 o’clock, Jen announced, “the President is gone!”  Indeed, the water was off.  It was nice while it lasted, though.

P.P.S.  I haven’t posted anything on the blog for a while because we haven’t had good internet lately, probably due to the increased visitors in Boke.  Andres has been talking with a guy from the cell company; they are supposed to install a new internet service and give us special routers that will enable us to have wireless in our home.  We’re praying this happens soon, but so far we’re afraid to get our hopes up too high.  The guy also seems to be ignoring Andres’ phone calls.  Thanks for your patience.  Please pray that God would increase ours, and pray that this dream would become reality.  Thanks!

Money and More Important Matters

     We have a saying in English, “when you gotta go, you gotta go.”  In Guinea apparently the motto is, “when you gotta go, just go.” 

     Last week I was surprised when one of the young girls going to get water suddenly dropped her skirt and urinated right on the main path to the faucet.  We’ve seen plenty of guys peeing on the side of the road (this is common both in Panama and Africa, though apparently in Africa you don’t even have to move off the side of the road), but never girls and never right in our backyard on the main trail that people walk on every day to get their drinking water, cooking water, bathing water, laundry water, etc…  I was even more shocked, however, when one of the grown women did it the next day.  She was nice enough to move behind the nearest tree, but apparently, “when you gotta go, just go.”  I’m thinking this is a principle we need to teach our family.  I’m pretty sure Abi wouldn’t have a problem with it.  Already she runs into the school bathroom, takes care of business, and runs out without her pants on.  For Nathanael too, this isn’t too far from his roots.  There was a time in Panama when he would actually choose to walk out the front door, pee off the patio and then come back inside.   I’m not sure how Jen will handle it though…

   On to money matters:  one of the big adjustments to daily life in Guinea has been the money.  Little did I know, but I am now a millionaire.  The reason is that the exchange rate here is about 7,000 Guinean Francs to every dollar.  If this isn’t enough, the banks here prefer to hold onto the big bills and usually dole out their cash in 5,000 increments—the largest bill I’ve seen so far is a 10,000. Imagine paying for your groceries using only ones or quarters.  But it’s like that for every purchase you make.  This means when we walk out the door to run errands, our pockets are bulging.  In fact, I no longer carry a wallet; I just carry my backpack around.  And since we’re still new, every time I make a purchase I’m constantly counting out each bill, trying to figure out if I’ve got it right.  I feel like such a snob pulling out these huge wads of cash just to buy a few boxes of cereal. Yet somehow I always feel like I’m being taken advantage of cause I usually have to ask the vendor to make sure I’ve counted the right amount.   And the worst part of it is that most wads of bills are incredibly dirty and old; definitely not a good place to be germaphobic.  And if you’re saying, ‘why doesn’t the guy just use his credit or debit card’, the simple answer is that credit card machines are non-existent here.  I haven’t seen one place yet that accepts a credit card, not even when we were in Conakry.  Paying for it on your visa is indeed, priceless.  And Master Card is not truly everywhere I want to be (or is that American Express?). 

    The other part to the money system is that some places you can bargain with the vendors, some places you can’t.  I’m still figuring out where it’s acceptable to negotiate and where I need to just let it drop.  For example, when paying for general groceries in the store, prices are fixed.  But when I go next door to buy a bath rug, bargaining is accepted.  Sodas bought on the street, the price is fixed.  Vegetables in the market you can negotiate for.  For the most part I’m pretty good at the bargaining and enjoy the process.  In some ways bargaining is a test of a person’s intelligence and will.  Someone who is too soft and gives in too easily can lose respect as they’re considered bad businessmen and too easy to push around.  On the other hand, someone who drives a hard bargain and can bring a vendor close to their bottom line price earns respect and is considered savy and strong. 

     For example, today I went out shopping for soccer equipment.  I wrestled with the vendor for about 20 minutes, trying to buy a larger quantity of balls for a nice low price.  We went back and forth for some time, he trying to tell me that long term it was better for him to hold out for higher prices, me trying to convince him that a larger amount from me today was more secure than waiting for hypothetical business later on.  In the end he gave in and gave me the deal I was wanting, but he concluded by declaring that we were now friends.  The implication of course is that I’ll return to his store next time I need something, but I earned his friendship by driving him down to a “friend’s” price.  I’m sure most times this is still the white friend’s price, but I think I’m getting better at this and developing relationships in the process. 

     So the moral to the story is, if you gotta go, just go, but don’t forget to take a wad of paper with you.

     On another note, the Snetselaars arrived back this week from Holland.  It will be interesting to see how our school dynamics change with Jesse in the mix.  I’m a little worried that Nathanael will get left out now that Pablo’s best friend is back.  Diana and Andres have also told us they’ve had talks with Pablo, reminding him not to leave Nathanael out, but this was in fact the case when we had our luncheon on Friday.  While the kids were all playing, Nat came and told me that the other boys weren’t playing with him.  It’s hard cause the other boys are used to each other, they are older, and Nathanael is often more reserved.  He also tends to do better with just one friend, not always knowing how to play with bigger groups. 

     Finally, this week is the country’s independence day, on October 2nd.  As part of a political move to gain favor with this district, the President has chosen Boke as the site where he will spend the celebrations.  The town has been working fervently to get everything ready for his arrival, putting in new street lights (solar powered), clearing out space for a town plaza, and building new guest hotels for all the visitors.  This weekend the military also moved in and have blocked off the main road through town.  Unfortunately all of the expats and missionaries seem to be more fearful of these events.  Part of it is due to the protests last week in Conakry.  The two main political parties have been fighting again, and two people were killed, so people are worried that some of this will spill over here.  The other part is that there are so many “strangers” in town.  Boke is usually a small, quiet town, but with all this attention and activity lots of people also means lots of thieves, vandals, etc…  And the military doesn’t seem to offer much comfort as they have a reputation for bullying people into giving things. We’re told they are more interested in seeing what they can get for themselves than in actually protecting the interests of the people.  So we’ve been instructed to sit tight and try not to go through town too much.  This is a shame as we would love to be able to see how Guineans celebrate their 4^th of July.  I think there’s a possibility that we might still go into town and check things out early on Tuesday.  Andres and I might go see if it is safe and then bring our families later if things look ok.  Either way we have a day off to rest and relax. 

     “Thank you, Lord for your provision for our family.  Thank you that we have always had everything we need and more.  I pray God that you would help our school to transition well with the addition of Jesse.  Help us to be able to teach him and help him, and help him to adapt well to our routines.  Please help Nathanael not to feel left out.  Help him to be able to mix in well with the older boys and make friends with Jesse too.  Lord, please bless and protect this country as they celebrate their independence.  Please give the leaders of this country wisdom and humility to continue to lead and direct this nation.  Continue to protect the freedom of religion that exists here, so that your people might worship in freedom and continue to spread your truth to all peoples.  And, Lord, please protect us and this city during these celebrations.  Deliver us from all evil and any plans the devil may have to cause chaos, harm, and fear.  May you be glorified in these events.  Amen!”