One Man's Trash

One thing that amazes me here in Africa is that very little gets wasted. That is a great thing because waste is one thing that nearly makes me insane in the US. We can hardly stand to know how much grocery stores and restaurants throw away, as we watch people go hungry here in the village. So that is one blessing here in Guinea. I rarely throw food away. Even when I cook chickens, people want the broth and bones to use for their rice and sauce. Of course, it took me a little while to feel comfortable offering that to people – but they love it and the broth contains great nutrients for their kids.

But even beyond food, many things we would dispose of in the US gets passed right out my back door. Almost everything gets snatched up. Cardboard boxes – you bet. Batteries that you think are too dead to use – I have many takers. My national friends tell me that they don’t consider a battery dead until “water” is leaking out. 2 -3 inch pieces of glass that we cut to make the windows fit – they are destined to be glass for picture frames. Tin cans – play things and “cooking pots” for little kids. Glass jars – women love them to put oil and salt in. Plastic jugs become new water bottles. Old bike tires – the tube can be cut into strips for tying things and the outside becomes a “car” for a little boy to roll down a path. Old clothes – hand them out. Someone will use them. Big plastic bags become rain slickers for kids or mattress protectors from bed wetters. Fuzzy toilet lid cover – voila – a new hat. The village doctor loves the kid’s old school papers to wrap medicine in. And when you buy bread o the street, it comes wrapped in torn pieces of cement bags.

OF course, there is a limit. Old, used medical gloves become a new balloon. I really try to stop that but the kids break the locks on the trash pits and dig them out to play with them. The concept of germs is just not happening. Even old pregnancy tests become play things – I am sure it puzzles them why the white woman gets really FUSSY when she sees those in their hands and takes away their newly acquired toys!

I am sure we are a mystery to the villagers – giving away perfectly good tins and jars and batteries. But in the end, everyone is happy and we have no landfills here. It is recycling at this best!

If you're going to the bank, take a trunk full of patience. . . .

Our team does not have a business manager, so each of us take turns going to CKY to accomplish the business that needs to be done. One of our tasks this time in CKY as to sign up to be signatories at the bank. We need a bank account to make wire transfers from the US so we can have money here in country. We recently decided to open an account at a new bank, as we were fairly unimpressed by the service at the other one. The whole process was started in October by our teammate, Jeremy, who made 8 trips to the bank to set up the account, and then one more to pick up money (where he waited for 5 hours). Keep in mind that each of the first 8 trips had to be made to the downtown bank, which takes an hour to get to – so each trip takes up 2 hours of time, without counting time even entering the bank for any business to be accomplished. When you enter the downtown bank, there are literally hundreds of people waiting in many lines. It is a sight to behold.

So, off we went. The first trip went fairly smoothly. We were asked to wait in the wrong line at first, but quickly discovered the mistake. Then we finally found the woman we were looking for – a Guinean woman who had spent 11 years in Houston studying and working. She was awesome (truthfully, we began losing sympathy for Jeremy since we knew he had been able to work through her – though the sympathy quickly returned on subsequent trips.) So, on the first trip, we were able to officially turn in our signatures so that we could have access to the money and business at the bank. Unfortunately, it takes 24 hours for us to become official, so we needed to return the next day to request that our money be transferred from US dollars to Guinean Francs. They said that the cash would be available that afternoon for us after making the request. We also needed to pick up checks for the account.

No problem, we said, we will be back tomorrow. So, the next morning, off we went for the second trip to the bank. As we got downtown, we called our contact to let her know we were almost there. She was not at the bank yet, but said she would arrive within an hour and would call us. After about 1 ½ hours, we called her. No, she said, don’t come yet because the man who has our checks was alone at his post and could not leave to get them – wait a little while. No problem, we said, and finished up some shopping. An hour later, we called again – no, still not ready – call soon. So we grabbed some lunch on the street and called again to say we were coming. No problem, she said. We arrived to find that she had left for lunch but had left our stuff with another woman. So, we signed a paper requesting that we be able to make transfer requests by email, and then picked up the checks and then officially requested that the money be transferred to our franc account.

No problem, they said. But, unfortunately, the system is down so the money request will not go through today. Come back tomorrow.

Well, we needed to take Brad down to do an early check in at the airline, so we said, sure, we will come tomorrow. What do we need to bring? Just your ID and that transfer slip you just filled out – and go to register #6. No problem, I said.

So, for the third day in a row, I headed back downtown – this time taking Brad and the boys as bodyguards. :^) (Jim needed to do some work at the house). We arrived at the bank, waited in line at register #6 for while and finally it was our turn. Communicating in French through bullet proof glass in a lobby filled with hundreds of people is a bit of a challenge – I must warn you if you are ever forced into that situation. Here is what our conversation went like:

So, can I have my money????

Well, no, but thank you for asking. It would seem that the money IS here but not officially authorized, so go and see a man on the second floor. And, by the way, why did you come to register #6, this is the wrong place….

So, off we went to the second floor, but alas, the person we were to ask for was not in. So, I called my contact upstairs for help. Finally we got to the right place and was told that I could withdraw the money – but I needed my checkbook – which I did not bring with me because I was told I did not need it. Sorry – no money for you today!! However, if we wanted to go to the branch closer to our house, we could get the checks from home and go and try there.

Okay, so off we went. Honestly, we were little nervous about withdrawing large sums of money at the branch close to our house because many people know where we live and it seems fairly obvious when you stagger out of the bank with backpacks full of money what you are doing and it seems like it makes you a little bit of a target for robbery. But, we were left with no choice. So, we returned home and picked up the checks and Brad, Kaleb and I took off for the bank. We arrived to find a lobby full of people – most looked comatose, like they had been there for a while. We finally got help to fill out the check and then took a number. We were number 820. The were serving number 706 – and in the 25 minutes that we took to figure out how to write a check, they had served 2 people. Not a good sign!!!

So, we settle in to make ourselves comfortable. Brad even had a quick snooze. One hour passed, and we were approaching two hours. I think we were around customer number 711 by this point. I called my contact downtown and said, Listen, I am happy to wait my turn (actually that was kind of a lie, but I was trying…) but I don’t want to wait for 3, 4,or 5 hours to get to the counter and be told that there was no more money (it has happened to a fellow missionary) so is there someone you can check with to make sure that the money is here? So she asked to talk with a bank employee, who then passed the phone off to another bank employee. I was assured that the money would be there. And then the woman disappeared with my phone. Finally, they closed the big metal doors –locking in those who had already arrived and barring more customers from coming in as the bank was closing (no doubt a fire hazard, but no one seemed concerned.)

Unbeknownst to me, Jim started calling my cell phone and it was being answered by the bank employee, who denied knowing me (since she did not receive the phone from me, she thought it was a bank phone.) He began to panic, thinking that I had lost my phone or had been robbed, so he dropped everything he was doing and rushed to the bank, only to find it locked down. Eventually, he was directed to the back entrance, where he found Brad, Kaleb, and I half comatose from waiting………. I am pretty sure that shaved about 5 years off his life. :^( So we sent Brad and Kaleb home and Jim settled in to wait with me. I was getting a little nervous as we needed to get Brad to the airport, but I was working on NOT getting worked up. After about 2 ½ hours, our downtown contact called to see if we had gotten the money. No, I reported, there were still around 30 people ahead of us (we were only on number 718 but a lot of people had given up and left (or perhaps they were dead of boredom and not answering when their number was called!) They were serving approximately 5 people an hour, so it was going to be a while. She must have made a phone call, because we suddenly got service and loaded up our backpacks and were out the door in 10 minutes – with all of the money and the exact denominations we had asked for. Amazing!!!

I spent most of those 3 days muttering 2 things under my breath

1. How do missionaries survive here in CKY???

2. We need a business manager (which, by the way, we have a family approved and raising support!!!!).

Oh, Africa!

School Canceled for a Python Hunt?

You know, homeschooling in West Africa, we just don’t get snow days or fog delays. School rarely gets cancelled. But last Wednesday, we had a exception. Our friend, Mordica, came to tell us that there was a python caught in a fish trap at a farm. His question was two-fold: Did the boys want the skull (they had asked about one before) and could they come and kill it with their gun? Apparently, people had tried to kill it but every time they got near it, the python would raise its head and hiss loudly, so no one was willing to get close to it with a cutlass. The kids looked at me with those big eyes, filled with longing for an adventure (and any excuse to get out of school.) I was poised to say “no”, and then I thought, “Really, what is the fun of living in West Africa if you can’t enjoy the exotic moments sometimes?” So, off Jim and Brad went, with the boys and Hannah in tow – Kaleb with his .22 slung over his shoulder.

Apparently, they drove a rather long way on a path (the farther from my house the better, I say) and then walked to a river where there was a wooden fence down in the water and a net to trap fish. As they waded across the top of the fence and approached, the python raise up out of the water at them. Kaleb shot it in the head and then they freed it from the net and returned home. The whole event took several hours. As I waited at home, I was trying to figure out when to start worrying about them and wondered how my grandmother must have felt as she watched my grandpa go off to hunt elephants and lions and probably didn’t hear from him for days. I decided I had nothing to compare it too.

Finally, the triumphant hunters returned, with an 8 foot 2 inch python in tow. According to Mordica, that is just a baby and the mom is out there somewhere. A friend from the village came and helped skin it and they nailed the skin to dry on a board.

In the end, after hearing the story, I was more worried about the water they were wading in and what parasites might be in there than I was about the snake.

So, I thought, that would make an interesting blog posting. Then, last night, Kaleb and Jim went off on a mini-hunt behind our house. Not too long after they left, we heard 2 shots with the .22. I thought perhaps they had killed a pigeon or a bush fowl to share with an old lady in the village. They returned and Jim called me out on the porch. Kaleb, with a big smile, tossed the carcass of a 6 foot python in front of me. It had gotten itself trapped in a fish net in the river behind our house. In chatting with our friends today, they gave me some good news and some bad news. The good news was that people had seen a big snake out in the river and were afraid to go and wash their clothes there. So, Kaleb assisted in removing that fear (if that was the snake they had seen.) The bad news was that there are apparently a LOT of pythons in the area. NICE……….. I am a little worried about our cats. Perhaps to trap them, I should hang fish nets around our house. . . as opposed to wearing fish net stockings, which would be most uncomfortable in the African heat. :^) Never a dull moment………..

Thankful

The other evening, I was contemplating the things I was MOST thankful for at that moment. There are many things, obviously, but here are the things that came to mind yesterday:

1. I am thankful for indoor plumbing. We now have a toilet in the house – it has to be flushed with a bucket, but it works SO much better than the hole in the back yard surrounded by VERY tall grass and insects and ??????

2. A shower in the house – before we started using the shower, we were bathing in the back yard – either at dusk, with a big chance of being seen – with those very WHITE bodies, or after dark, when you were possibly washing beside snaky kinds of creatures.

3. I am thankful for a lady in town who is willing to wash our clothes by hand. I had to do a few things the other day and about died, I was so tired (shows how wimpy I am.) I am hanging some things on a clothes line, but most are hung of the stick fence on our backyard. We do have to be careful when putting on the clothes and watch for splinters (we are vigilant with those underwear!)

4. I am thankful for Brad, who seems to be able to tackle just about any job we give him – and does it well and without complaining. He has been a great addition to our family and we are thinking about keeping him forever. It has been fun to see his personality emerge the more he gets used to us (I hope he can say the same thing about us???)

5. I am thankful for my husband – who works tirelessly every day. The man just won’t stop. He is so great about thanking me for the work and so thankful to have us all together up there. He goes the extra mile and I am so proud of him.

6. I am thankful for my kids, who are doing a great job of adapting to a less than ideal school and living situation. They are troopers who are working hard to go with the flow in the midst of political unrest and the uncertainty that it brings.

7. Lastly, that day, I was thankful for peanuts. Peanuts, you ask? Yes, I have been receiving pans of peanuts as a “welcome to the community” gift. It is so fun to get to know people and I am touched by the gifts (even though occasionally I feel less thankful than I should since they keep coming and coming an coming.

The Blessing of Uncertainty

I must start by saying that I am generally a very organized person who likes to have things in a semblance of control in my life. For the most part, I confess, that I operate under the false sense that I have some control over things and I kind of like it that way, if we are being honest. I enjoy it when my life, my house, and my ministry are moving along at a smooth, even pace.

But, there have been significant times in my life, like when we were waiting on visas, or when there is unrest in the country or numerous other times, when I am hit squarely in the face, AGAIN, and reminded that I truly do NOT have control over life and that my only option is to rest in the hands of the One who does have control. I know this happens in many situations, not just mine. A dear friend of mine was just diagnosed with breast cancer. I know other people who have unexpectedly lost loved ones or get a bad diagnosis, and all of those things can make us feel like life is crashing down around me.

Over the last few weeks, as we have watched the situation here with some unease and a small, sick feeling in the pit of our stomachs, I have been reminded over and over again by the Lord that there are blessings to be gained in the midst of uncertain times. I wanted to share a few of them.

First, I think it does me good to remember that, indeed, I am NOT in control. Of course, I say with my mouth that I know that, but sometimes I act like I am the one in control. It is always good when the Lord humbles me and reminds me that He alone holds our future and our family in the palm of His hand.

The second benefit is that it tends to drive me to my knees in prayer. Daily, sometimes hourly – I am driven before God to beg for His intervention in the situation and for His protection and for an overwhelming sense of His peace! Interestingly, our lesson yesterday, in our missionary ladies Bible study, was about the time when Daniel faced the lion’s den. We are studying with Beth Moore and it could not have been better timed. She shared how in times of crisis, we can react in one of 3 ways – we can panic, we can be paralyzed, or we can pray. It was a good reminder that I need to choose praying always, because that is the only choice with a good outcome.

Another reminder she gave us was to pray with thanksgiving. And so that is what we have been trying to do. And it was great, because I had already come to the point where I could say, “Thank you God, even for uncertain times, because it moves me closer to you!” So, I know beyond the shadow of a doubt, that though I do NOT like those times of unease and stress, God is using them to make me into the person He wants me to be.

Mami Beri

I have a new friend – her name is Mami Beri. She is probably around 70 years old, though I am not sure she knows for sure. She is a cross between my Grandma Leinbach and Granny from the Beverly Hillbillies. She stands under 5 feet tall, but packs a whole lot into that body. She has just a few teeth, but a LOT of gumption. The first time I met her was when we visited the village here. When we were walking around, they told her that my name was Gulun-nga, which means twin mom. She was thrilled and began to dance around and hug me. We have been fast friends ever since. When I was still in Niaya and Jim was working up here, every day she would ask "Where is your wife? Where is my friend?" One time Mami Beri walked by when Jim had called us on the radio (which she calls a telephone) and so she heard us talking from Niaya. She loves to retell that story:“I walked by and Gulunibaba (Jim) was calling you on the telephone and I stood there, right there, and heard you talking on the telephone.”

She was very pleased last year to be able to meet my parents and still talks about them. She loves the kids. In fact she loves the whole family and was very excited the other night when we went to her house for the first time to visit.

You do NOT, however, want to get on her bad side. Often, we can hear her yelling or grumbling or cursing at her cows or goats as she tries to move them from place to place. And recently she laid a plaint on a man (took him to court, basically) who would not tie his cows up like he was supposed to.

She says she is too old to work anymore – but she spends her days caring for her cows out in the field. Sunday, she was carrying a big bucket of water out to one of her cows with a hurt leg.

Last night, I went to visit her and she walked me home. We arrived home to find Brad and the boys kicking the soccer ball around. They kicked it in our direction and she took off running. She kicked the ball back to the boys. It was great. She dropped me off and got ready to walk home and went back after the soccer ball. I was able to catch it on video.

I am hoping and praying that, because we are here, Mami Beri will have the chance to know Jesus and then you will be able to meet her some day in heaven.

Just look for the little fireball ordering people around or kicking a soccer ball and you will have the right one.

Laundry Secrets

I THINK I have figured it out – the whole laundry guessing game. Since I know this will be very useful information in the US, thought I would pass it on.

Here is the secret. To hang the laundry on the line, the kind of day you are looking for starts out overcast and even with sprinkles. If you see big thunder clouds, don’t panic. Go ahead and hang the clothes, even if it is sprinkling. Be strong. Resist the urge to pull the clothes off even if the rain picks up a little. So far, I am about 6 for 6 on getting dry clothes at the end of those days.

If, however, you look outside and see sunshine, do not, I repeat, do not do laundry. You are nearly guaranteed a free second and third rinse cycle.

Just wanted to let you know – no use keeping all that great information to myself!

To help or not to help. . . that is the question

Subtitle: Confessions of a Confused Missionary

Disclaimer: For those of you who don’t know us well and harbor the idea that missionaries are saints who have all the answers and would like to preserve those beliefs, you may need to stop reading because this may destroy that belief. For those of you who know us well, you already know that we are not saints who have it all together so you may continue.

There are MANY great things about ministering in Africa - too numerous to count actually. One of those great things is that it is easy to see and help meet people’s felt needs. This is obviously different than parts of Europe or the US, where most people are fairly self-sufficient, and it can be harder to find an inroad. Almost daily, we are confronted with the opportunity to help people with physical and medical needs. That usually opens up an opportunity to share Jesus’ love and compassion. Sounds too good to be true – and it can be.

I know it sounds confusing – but actually, help of this nature CAN be detrimental sometimes. Let me explain.

Last week, a young mom came to me with a set of 1 month old twin boys. They are beautiful and pretty healthy. Here is her need: she delivered the babies at her house, not at the “hospital” in town or with the midwife. For years, we nurses and the health care people in town have been strongly encouraging women to NOT give birth at home due to the very increased risk of neonatal tetanus from dirty knives and cow dung/mud floors. There are numerous reasons a woman would prefer to deliver at home or maybe she can’t walk to the hospital while in labor (as claimed by this woman who says she didn’t know she was in labor until the babies popped out).

Due to 2 recent cases of infant death from tetanus, the head medical person in the area has imposed a tax of 3 times the amount of money if you deliver at home instead of with the midwife or doctor. You have to pay this money in order to receive a carnet (medical form) that allows your kids to get vaccines. (Incidentally, for no reason that anyone can explain to me, it costs more to deliver a boy than a girl. And no, there is no circumcision at birth that would explain it. But that is another story altogether.)

She came asking for me to pay the fees so her babies can get vaccinated. Well, on the surface, that seems simple. I should help her. But, what does that say to the other women in the village – just have your babies at home, tell Madame that you didn’t know you were in labor, and she will help you? How do I say yes to one person and not the next? If it doesn’t cost her anything, what will stop her from delivering her next baby at home, thus putting her baby at risk? What would the head medical guy have to say if it looks like his solution was being by-passed? Also, where is the father of the twins? Why is he not helping? According to mom, the dad left a few months back and left no money for her to help with the birth or her other child. If I step in, how will that help him learn responsibility the next time? I could go on and on.

What about a sick person? When do we step in with money to help and when do we make the family take responsibility? If the money is provided and costs them nothing, many times they are not careful how it is spent. Or they take the money to buy food or new clothes and let the sick person suffer or die. That makes it difficult to know how best to proceed.

Another factor is that is it often difficult to know what the actual need is. In Western society, we tend to hide our needs, proud that we are self-sufficient. In a third world culture, people tend to hide their strengths and show you their weaknesses. They don’t expect you to meet all that they demand, just a part. In a sense, without asking, they already have a “no” so it doesn’t hurt to try for a “yes”. Often, we have seen or heard of people who will not sell livestock or possessions to gain money to help a sick person get well, but once that person dies, they sell off a cow or something to pay for sacrifices and funeral expenses.

There have been many times we have been “burned” – giving money to help medically and having the person show up with a new outfit, but still sick. Or being told that there is NO money in the house for food, but seeing that same person wearing a new pair of shoes purchased in the market the next day.

Several times we have refused to help someone and later the person figured out a way to get what they needed without our help, increasing their self-esteem. There have also been MANY times that we know if we had not stepped in, the person would have died.

All of that leaves us daily asking God for wisdom to know when we should help and when we should step back. We know we will make mistakes, but we try to rest in knowing that we need to ask for wisdom, and then follow what He tells us to do. Come to think of it – that is probably exactly where He wants us!

Reflections on Rainy Season

Living in the US, I forgot how much rain effects our life here. In the US, for most people, it might cancel a day of work or mess up plans for an outdoor adventure. (Granted, there are such things as floods that REALLY affect people’s lives, but, for the MOST part, rain is merely an inconvenience.)

We returned during rainy season and I am quickly remembering the reasons that rainy season REALLY irritates me! Lest I sound crabby, bear with me while I explain.

1. Rainy season turns every laundry day into a guessing game where you watch the sky. Trying to look at the sky before you decide to do laundry is pointless, unless it is pouring at that moment. What looks like an overcast, cloudy sky can be a day of cool breezes that never brings rain. Conversely, a sunny day can turn to a downpour within 2 minutes. It is probably better that people cannot hear what I am muttering (or perhaps yelling) as I am scrambling to pull down clothes in time to preserve any semblance of dryness that was there. I do want to maintain that saintly image I have going. So far, of the 3 days I have done laundry in the village, the rain is winning 2 – 1. (The day I "won" I just decided not to chance it and hung the clothes up in the bat filled attic).

2. Envelopes: I brought note cards and envelopes home with us from the States. Hannah and I worked for a long time today, lining the sticky part of the envelopes with waxed paper. Having only been in the country 2 weeks, there were a few that we could not salvage.

3. Boxes of matches left on the counter are pretty much useless after a few days. It can take 4 or 5 matches until you get one dry enough to light a fire.

4. Same thing with salt. If you sit with a bunch of missionaries at a dinner table, you are likely to hear "shake, whack, shake, whack, whack, shake, whack" until the person decides they have gotten enough salt from the shaker or their arm has fallen off from the effort.

5. The dampness also seeps into the wood of the doors, causing them to swell, so they are difficult to open and close. I guess the good thing is that if you are in a hurry to get to the bathroom, you don’t have to pause to lock the door – just push hard and it stays!

6. Mold, mold everywhere! Though it is better at our house now because the shutters are open and I attack it daily.

7. Driver ants: Now is the season for these little black ants that tromp across the land, biting and destroying many things. They have been known to eat a chicken and leave nothing but the bones. Lots of water also tends to drive scorpions out of their holes. Water is no obstacle for the driver ants, though. Check out this video!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IBTjQMtbViU

8. Lots of tall grass that makes it much harder to see those nasty snakes!

9. You can’t check email with the sattelite modem when it is raining.

10. Did I mention how much I hate it when it rains on my drying laundry???????



On the upside, there are a few good things about rainy season:

1. You don’t have to worry about conserving water. There is always plenty more where that came from.

2. It means that people can plant their rice, which means they will have something to eat.

3. Hannah loves playing in the 55 gallon drum where we catch water for laundry.

4. There is NOTHING like crawling into bed, snuggling under the covers, and listening to the rain beat down on the tin roof!

On the Road Again

Well, we are ready to take off tomorrow for home but, of course, traveling is no easy task in West Africa. It involves a whole lot of planning and work and sweat. We spent 2 days shopping for ourselves, a little for our teammates and for the house. Since we cannot buy much upcountry, we need many supplies. It often reminds me (in a small way) of what the pioneers went through. After shopping, almost everything is packed into trunks for easier packing in the truck. After I have finished that, Jim and the boys arrange it in the truck. Today, all of the loading took place in the rain.

Besides groceries, we usually take a case or two of pop, several bottles of propane (so we can run our stove), building supplies and extra fuel for the vehicles in case the stations are out. We usually have two coolers of cold stuff and bags of clean and dirty clothes and dirty linens from the beds we slept in for us to wash and return at a later date. The day before we leave, I head out to the market to purchase fruits and vegetables.

Besides all of that, we need food and water for the road (since Subway is in short supply here) and TP for those roadside pit stops. We also need an “ordre de mission”, a paper giving us permission to travel in the country. We also need money to buy gas and other things on the way – 500,000fg will usually do.

This trip Mr. Bah, our chauffeur, will be driving the van as well, since we have more than the normal amount of stuff, having just returned from the US.



The vehicles are mostly loaded. Tomorrow, we will throw in the cooler stuff, the veggies, the carry-ons, and all those little bags of stuff that seem to multiply. We will shut off the water, lock down the guesthouse, and take off. We will probably pass through 7 – 10 police/army barricades on our 8 – 10 hour trip. We have a place we usually stop to buy pineapples and watermelon (in season) but for the most part, we just try to keep going. We are so excited about getting home.

Shopping

I am an experienced shopper in Conakry now, but since I was recently spoiled for a few months with Wal-Mart and Kroger’s I just have to share what my past 2 days of shopping have been like. Thankfully, I had the foresight to leave a list behind, knowing that I would forget what I left behind in the village. So, Friday morning Mr. Bah, our chauffeur, and I took off. (I would love to explain all the reasons why we need a chauffeur and how he is so much more than just a chauffeur, but that is for another time.)

It took us over an hour to drive downtown due to traffic. I then shopped at my 2 favorite stores which are right across the street from each other. The shelves were fairly well stocked, which was great. The problem is that I never know which store will have what, and at the better price. I might find powdered sugar at only one store (and then not again for 6 months) or it might be at every store I go to. I found a jar of Jif peanut butter for about $15. I didn’t buy it, though I was begrudging my $2 jar that the customs man took from me!.

Shopping here is, to say the very least, random! (As my teammate Dawn Cluckie said, it really would be best to go to all of the 5 or 6 stores that we usually shop at to price everything and then go back to buy, but that is just not feasible. It would add a day to the shopping experience.) We stopped at another store where I can buy cheese at a decent price. Mozzarella was only about $10/lb. Then I went to another store to order meat. (We don’t know if there will be a warthog available when we get home or if we will have time to butcher it.)

Today, we shopped again in the rain. You can keep your head dry by carrying an umbrella, but slugging through the market sewer water pathways just makes me cringe. Makes me want to go home and take a de-wormer. In the market, I haggled over prices for medicine and IV fluids to take back up to the village and then off we went to the pharmacy. I found 2 things I was looking for there that weren’t available in the market. Then off to another store that you almost have to experience to believe.

You walk in and 2 feet from the door you bump into a counter where most people come and ask for what they want and have it handed to them. We usually buy so much that the owner allows us to squeeze through the 18 inch opening and go behind the counter. Two feet behind the counter there are 2 ½ aisles – each about 2 feet wide (that may be stretching it) with shelves that are piled floor to ceiling with stuff. Behind the counter and in the aisles with you are 5-7 people who work at the store. Eight feet into the store it narrows so there is only 1 aisle that squeezes into a back room. When the electricity is off, they give you a flashlight to see.

I know there must be rats in there, but there are usually cats around, too. The thing about this place is that it is fairly randomly arranged. I can tell that the thought was to put like items together, but then whatever didn’t fit on the shelves just gets put anywhere. Usually, one of the boys working there helps and carries the stuff I want up to the counter until it is a heaping pile. They are usually very helpful and scale the shelves to get stuff down from the top or run off to another store house if what I want is not there. Then we need to add up the price so the boy helping me will call out the items: “10 rolls of toilet paper!” and the guy calculates it in his head “100,000 fg.” (equal to about $20) and then adds it into the calculator and on we go, usually reaching 1.5 to 3 million franc by the time I am done. All the while we are adding, there are 3 to 10 customers asking for things and trying to pay because they certainly don’t want to wait for my order when they only have a few things. (This is not unlike having 5 things in your cart and being behind the person who can’t see over the top of their cart because of all the food!).

The two brothers who own the store are fun to be around and usually give Mr. Bah and me free pop. :^) We made several other stops: to buy screen for the house, to pick up stuff for teammates, to buy rabies vaccines for the cats, to pick up the meat order (which had been packaged for me in 1 pound baggies and frozen flat so they would fit well in a cooler. Isn’t that great service!!!) and to check one other store that has way high prices but randomly marks things 60 to 80 percent off, which I can then afford.

We arrived home and carted it all up to the apartment so I could throw stuff in the freezer and repack everything into trunks for easier hauling upcountry. Despite it all, it felt good to be back! Who needs consistent prices and conveyer belts and wide aisles and carts and clean floors, anyway? That takes all the adventure out of it!

The Trip Home: The Endless Journey

Our trip back home was filled with excitement – and a lot of stretching emotionally. We spent the night in Indy at a hotel with Gary and Jean (Jim’s parents) and were able to have supper with them and my mom and dad as well. Tuesday morning – we were up and excited to go. Off we went to the airport, dragging 14 trunks and 10 VERY heavy carry-ons (yes, the boys did have those 10 pounds of cheese). We checked in and went thru security, tripped up for a few minutes by the cheese and some summer sausage, which they let pass) and some peanut butter (which they did not). Thankfully, that was rescued by the Kansas grandparents, who are no doubt enjoying it on toast now. SO much for my in-country breakfast menu. . . .

We hung out and then flew to Atlanta, where we ate a final salad (and drank that last iced tea) at TGIFriday’s and boarded the plane for Brussels. The flight was LONG (about 8 hours) but no one was very tired, since it was only 2 am when we arrived. By this point, I am usually feeling a little punchy. Too little sleep, too much time sitting, too much food at weird hours. . . . We arrived in Brussels at 8:30am (around 2:30 am our body time) and transferred to our gate, passing through security again where we were tripped up for a few minutes by a rope the boys had a the bottom of their backpack (it took a few minutes to verify that it was legal and not a lethal weapon) and some shampoo bottles that had to be measured to verify that they were indeed under 3 ounces. There we sat and slept, blissfully unaware that our baggage was being piled up somewhere and forgotten, since the Indy guy never checked it all the way through, like he was supposed to. (Good thing I am not bitter.)

We boarded the plane for CKY and tried to settle in. By this time, we were definitely tired, but sleep on an airplane is hard to come by. We were seated in front of a very nice Lebanese family with 2 small children. Hannah played with the kids while she was not sleeping. Thankfully, the flight was not super full and we were able to stretch out some. We landed in Dakar to off-load passengers and the pilot reported a problem with one of the generators, but said they had parts and a mechanic there so not to worry. We were on the ground for about 2 ½ hours during which we loaded a few more people and then were off again. The flight into CKY from Dakar is only about an hour and 30 minutes and as we started to make our descent into CKY, the pilot announced that we needed to turn around to Dakar, as the problem had returned and there was no one to fix it in CKY. At that point, there was much frustration, because of being so tired and after 2 weeks of being delayed by visa issues and 30 some hours of traveling, we were 30 minutes from home and we had to turn back. OY!!!

They offloaded us at the airport to “wash our faces and hands and relax in the lounge” while they fixed the problem. It was 7 pm at that point. By 11pm, we were told that the problem was not yet fixed and they were going to feed us and take us to a hotel. So, off we went to the restaurant in the airport – dragging those carry-ons up and down stairs until I thought my arm was going to fall off. They finally found seats for everyone and about 40 minutes later, showed up pushing the carts of airline food – which, frankly was a great option because the one plate of food we saw at the place contained a fish (head and all) and I was fairly certain that I could not face that at 11 something at night. They fed us and then transported us to the hotel.

With every move from place to place, there was much pushing and shoving and jockeying for position. It was a little frightening! The hotel was okay – it had electricity and air conditioning and only a few roaches. We fell into bed exhausted and, except for a quick phone call at 8 am to find out about the flight, we slept until 12:30pm. We got up, had lunch that was provided by the airline and then slept a few more hours. The kids swam, we ate supper and then were off to the airport and left after a fairly short wait.

We arrived in CKY at 11:45 pm in the pouring down rain. We have this part down fairly well by now and have a guy who helps us navigate the airport, so, after customs, Hannah and I waited with the large pile of carry-ons while the guys waited for the trunk. And waited. And waited. Pretty soon the airport was empty – not a good sign. We went to fill out a claim – giving the information to a man not used to using the computer program – so he typed n the information and then deleted it and then typed it in and then took it out. By this time, I was near tears again. There was another man who had his luggage gone through and stuff was stolen. He was told “that happens sometimes – it has happened before.” It was probably a good thing that was not me because I probably would have slugged someone.
Bruce was there to meet us. We arrived at the guesthouse and fell into bed. We were blessed by internet access at the guesthouse that allowed us to send a plea to our HQ and Josie to help with the baggage situation – they were wonderful. Thankfully, they all arrived on Saturday.

When it is all said and down, we are no worse for the wear – and will be a little more cautious in the future about checking bags. We even got to meet that great Lebanese family and we hope to contact them when we come back to CKY the next time. We survived another trip to Africa!!! PTL

Contemplating the importance of CHEESE......

We'll come back soon, you hear!!!!!!

So, the last 24 hours have been filled with all those last minute details - cleaning, giving back things we have borrowed, paying bills, trying to fit in all the little things that we want to take back. Mostly, it all fit but....... there was no space for cheese. Yes, you heard me correctly. Cheese. Why is that important you ask? Well, we have paid over $15 per pound in Guinea, so it is so much cheaper to take it with you.... Tacos and pizza (or at least our versions) are just not the same without cheese. Alas, even with everyone wearing several layers, we were still out of room. But with much cramming and stuffing, tonight we were able to get 10 pounds of cheese in. Whether or not they let us on the plane with the over loaded carry-ons remains to be seen. Last time, they tried to take cheese away from me in Paris - but I am not above pleading with the officials if it calls for that. :^) We will let you know if we make it through - with the cheese intact! Can't wait to set feet on African soil.

Work finishing our new well

Here are pictures of the final rings being dropped into our new well.

Waiting and Waiting

It is amazing how a little 3 inch by 2 inch sticker can so disrupt a life...........
We are still in the US - supposedly waiting for the Embassy to get more stickers so Jim and I can get a visa to return to Guinea. The kids already have theirs. We were about 2 hours from walking out of the house to go to Indy when we found out it wasn't going to come through. Honestly, it has been a hard time. The delay is NOT the end of the world, certainly, but it is hard to spend day after day in limbo. Mentally, we are already in Guinea with our teammates and friends there. Physically, we are sitting in Fort Wayne (actually Cleveland at the moment) trying to figure out what to do next.
On the down side, if we don't get those visas this week, we will lose around $12,000 or more in lost tickets and over weight baggage. Also, the work on the house and school stuff will get a little complicated.
On the up side, we have been able to see people and do things that we had missed since we were due to leave last week. We got to go bowling (exciting, I know) and play Rook and Dutch Blitz (I have finally met my match in that game) and the boys and Jim got to fly a little Cessna. Currently, the boys and Jim are hanging out with Grandpa Leinbach. Hannah and I came to Cleveland with Grandma to love on the niece and nephew a little more (and see Glenn and Josie). Now, when Reagan, (2 years), understands something you are saying, she says "Oh, I get you." Cracks me up.
Anyway, we are waiting and praying and trying to rest - all the while anxious to get back to life as we know and love it!!!!

Saying goodbyes are not fun. We all had to squish Reagan one more time as we left. Of course, at 2, she was not sure what the big deal was and why we were crying!

Okay, so I am trying to set up a blog in the midst of the craziness that is our life right now! We have spent the last few days trying to make things smaller and lighter weight so everything will fit into trunks and carry-ons. It is unreal how much stuff we accumulated in the past few months and we don't want to leave anything behind because we are going to the land where Walmart does not exist........ Hope they let us on the plane. My plan at this point is to have everyone wear multiple layers of clothing - so if you go to the Indy airport and you see a family of 5 walking stiff legged with their arms straight out to the side, that just might be us!!!!
Still waiting for the visas to arrive so we can leave tomorrow!