Archive for the ‘Africa’ Category

Shake up your world with these presentations of ‘life in Africa’.

I can’t believe it’s really edging close to a whole year since my Africa trip. It’s still so fresh and alive in my memory. As if it happened last week. In truth, it happens most everyday in my memory box…Today my mind is engaging in memories of the ‘the morning after’…

On my first morning in Africa I awoke to a room drenching in rich sunlight. I thought I’d slept the morning away. Surprisingly my wrist watch read only 8:00. It was fortunate that I experienced no sickness or jetlag traveling to and fro. I had only one day off before I’d be back teaching again. Admittedly it took me somewhat longer to get into the grind of school. My whole self just wasn’t here…it was there!!

Ruthie and my room…no, we hardly ever cleaned up…we just slept there! The rooms in the compound were very nice.

The main lounge. This was one of the places groups of us would end up a couple times a day to ‘unwind.’ This is in the same building where the families coming over to adopt stay .

Naturally, there were a few surprises awaiting me as I walked into the dining lounge. I was introduced to Brain and Tracy Bishop who were there adopting three Liberian children. We exchange hello’s and when I asked if I could have some of their bottled water, Tracy, in a thick southern accent was quick to point out that bottled water costs $2 and goes on your room and board bill. Maria has a special building for the families who are there adopting children. Room and board cost $100 a night. Most families coming to adopt stay roughly three weeks. Room and board is just a fraction of their adoption cost.

Moments later in breezes this slender, pony-tailed, red-haired lady. One of my first thoughts was Anne Shirley from the Anne books! There was a stern expression on her face and I couldn’t help thinking “I wouldn’t want to get on her bad side.” Turns out she was having a rough time with her adopted 10 year son, Papay. Back home in Seattle awaiting them was the husband whose name I’m likely never to forget (she mentioned him, um, about a hundred times). The brother of Papay, whom they had adopted previously, was anxiously anticipating their return. Twin sisters, also natives of Liberia, and the couple’s two biological children must make life very interesting for this Seattle family.

It actually took me a few days to get to know Rachel. Out and about, she was hardly ever inside the compound walls. I’m still not sure how or what broke the ice, but once I got to know her I was sorry for time wasted. Remarkable witty, frisky, I fondly recall the various topics we covered. From Jane Austin to the then feuding Clinton and Obama…I’m banking on seeing her again someday…maybe in Africa??!

After breakfast I walked around the large compound area, getting names straight and mentally photographing my first images of the land that went on to captured my heart. My first glimpse of the small nursery I cannot describe. A strange smell assailed me as I stepped into the dark room lined with cribs. It really is imppossible to describe what happened to me as my heart and brain collided with what they saw. What babies weren’t sleeping in a circle of sweat were standing up in their cribs, rocking themselves back and fort, starring at me. They just stared. There was no expression whatsoever on their faces. Eyes followed me and as my heart gradually returned to normal beating and I picked up one of the babies. She leaned away from me in assumed fear of my strange face. It didn’t take her long to get comfortable though, for she screamed when I tried to uncling her from my dress. I don’t recall her name but I can still her cry. Praise God her adoption was pending while we there.

You fall in love them, want to take them home with you. Believe me when I say you would’ve lost your heart looking into their dark chocolate faces…
With Maria’s permission we persuaded the hired staff to let us take a few of the babies outside to bask in the sunlight. Giving them a bath we pampered them, took them to our room to take pictures of them to show our moms. I’ve lived too sheltered a life to imagine how it’s possible to give up your child. But being in Africa and catching a glimpse of their lifestyle, you think you could, maybe, possibly understand it…a little bit?
All dressed up for Sunday morning service! There’s a small chapel inside the compound. The dark reddish door/gate in the background is the compound entrance.

One of my most memorable times was talking, or rather trying to communicate, with the natives. These steps were hardly never empty (unless in the heat of day). I had some interesting conversations with some of the young men on these steps…here I’d just gotten back from the ocean and am drying off. The shower got a healthy pedicure with sand carried back for the beach everyday…!

(…to be continued)

11/24/08 – I received another email for Rae, Pepay’s seizures have stopped and he’s recovering. (Sigh) I was worried. What an incredible responsibility it must be being a mommy and daddy…

My faithful readers, please pray for the LORD’S hand over Pepay.

My friend Rachel Musgrove sent me this prayer request. Please remember to say a prayer for Pepay. This is the boy that the Musgrove family adopted when we were in Liberia in February. Rachel has a very fond place in my heart and my heart reaches out to her family. She’s a hero.

Saints,

I pray that everyone’s afternoon is filled with Christ and that His Spirit is raining upon us all.

I do ask that you would be in special prayer for our oldest son, Papay, who’s been seizing since about 7am this morning. Right now he and Sherman are at our local hospital but we’ve been told that he’s probably going to get moved to Mary Bridge because the seizures won’t stop. Please understand that this is a very dangerous status as the longer he seizes, the more likely that brain damage will occur (and in 20% of cases, death).I will keep you all updated as we learn more.

One thing I know for sure is that God loves this boy more than we do and we entrust Him to be in charge.

Blessings to You All,
Rachel

I never dreamed that I would loose my heart to the children of Africa. That their faces would be tattooed into my soul from that day fort… That my whole being would crave for that abused land where so many of the comforts and privileges I had at my fingertips at home were denied. That I’d see the brown eyes of children in my students dear faces. There was one little girl (that one in a blue-striped dress looking up) at the orphanage who reminded me of one of our grandchildren. And whenever I watch the video clip of the orphanage children singing for us, I see Greta’s face in that chocolate complexion.

When I think of how I brushed teeth…with store-bought water in a cut off water bottle, the lack of bubble baths!! The sand that clung to your body after spending every afternoon on the beach (remember it was a mere five minute walk from the compound). You couldn’t rush into the shower after frolicking with the ocean…the generator switched on around eight p.m.…if they got it to work…and then you welcomed a COLD shower (the water heater and our room didn’t work). Ruthie and I took turns trying to wash the sand of each other by the water pump near the laundry…that pump also came in handy when we accidentally sat in poop down by the beach. Americans who had arrived a few weeks before us had warned us about the ‘bathroom’ situation (or the lack thereof) of the common people.

When you’re preparing for a trip to Africa you don’t think about those things. Oh, I remember jesting back and fort with Ruthie on the countless phone calls between us as we prepared to travel abroad. “What if we’ll starve?” She just laughed and said, “Just what we need!” I experienced little or no hunger in Africa. Between the Ramon noodle Becky had packed and the fresh fruits we did fine…I wouldn’t touch rice for months after arriving home!! But we were there for only two weeks. I know that the people who stay in Palmgrove for months actually come much closer to experiencing hunger.

Don’t get the wrong idea, they made us food. Maria has a very prompt and hardworking staff on hand. There were three kitchen hands; Isaac made breakfast, Peter made lunch and dear, dear Martha made supper. But if you’re not used to over-spiced rice and eggs, it doesn’t go down very well! And who could forget Saturday? He primed our rooms to perfection everyday. A gentleman, perfectly curtsies, attentive, kind. Everyday he’d supply every room with two five-gallon pails of water. Up many flights of stairs he’d slowly haul them from the pump on the bottom level of the compound for us privileged Americans. My heart ached as I watched him carry those heavy pails up to our rooms…it’s morning now in Liberia, I think he may be carrying buckets of water upstairs now. The other day I counted together all the pails of water he’d have to lug up those stairs. It comes close to fifteen buckets of water per day. You can only carry two buckets at a time…that’s fifteen divided by two…You do the math. About half thru our stay Ruthie (bless her heart) suggested we fill our buckets in the tub before the generator shuts off.

Right now there are about a hundred more images of Africa painted in my mind, but it’s well after midnight and tomorrow’s a school day. And blogger is being a pain uploading the pictures I’m posting. So…

…to be continued another time…

…will you find it again in the place you lost it?

My friend Janice emailed me this video by Christian music artist Sarah Groves. I think anyone who’ll travel to this land will experience what this songs talks about. I certainly did. I still make choices centered around what I saw. I still think about Africa everyday, dream about returning…indeed, I would go back in the blink of an eye if opportunity opened a door.

And when your heart gets lost in a place like Africa, it isn’t so easy to pick up the pieces of your ‘former’ life when you return home again. But the words in this song, not to mention the whispers of my heart, tell me it’s not meant too.

I saw what I saw and I can’t forget it
I heard what I heard and I can’t go back
I know what I know and I can’t deny it

Something on the road, changed my world

There are some really interesting posts over at the Bridge. It’s the Hutterites mission outreach effort in Africa. The labor is hard, that meaning more spiritually than anything else. That much I saw when I visited Palmgrove. They have my admiration for their unfailing effort.

Very nice pictures too.