It only takes a minute for your whole day to go down the well

Just yesterday morning, Jim and I were having a spirited discussion about organizing our time and the debate about working from a list and also being available for what God want us to do – Jim being less of a list maker, and me being an avid list maker. It is incredibly frustrating for me to arrive at the end of the day – but be far from the end of my list. We ended up talking about what he wanted to get done that day, and off we went.

About 1 hour later, a Fulani man came running up to ask for help. He said there was a man trapped down in a well. The man had climbed in to dig the well deeper, but apparently had not been down there very long before he sat down and became unresponsive to the people at the top of the well, calling to him. They were very concerned and wanted help.

Jim, the boys, Sayon and Mordeca (our friends who were here working on Jim’s garden) ran off with a long climbing rope to see what they could do. When they reached the place– over a mile away – they found an extremely narrow and deep well. With the sun overhead, they could see the man huddled at the bottom, gasping for air. He would not respond to the people yelling to him from the top.

What followed in the next 8 hours was a frustrating and fascinating interaction with another culture. Several people tried to go into the well after him, but got part way down and were unable to breathe because of the lack of oxygen. Jim and the boys were able to hook up a ventilation system with a little 12 volt fan, a tube, a plastic cookie sheet, and a motorcycle battery (MacGyver would have been proud) – in an attempt to pull air out of the well, which would in turn force new oxygenated air down into the well. The man in the well was a well digger – and his friend refused to go in after him. I am told the people there were beating him – in attempt to shame him into going down. There became a fight – why should a Yalunka person go after him, when he was Fulani. Soon the governmental man in charge over the area showed up. Someone took off on a motorcycle, going from village to village, looking for another well digger who would be willing to go down after Musa ( as we learned was his name).

After a while, they began throwing milk and then gasoline down the well. Why would they do that????? We came to find out (when it was all said and done) that people here believe that, in some wells, there are evil spirits and if you go into the well, the evil spirits will steal your breath and kill you. They dumped the milk and gasoline down in an attempt to appease and distract the evil spirits into letting go of the man.

Meanwhile, with each passing hour, our hope of him being brought back up alive was diminishing. The boys related to me how agonizing it was to watch as no progress was made and to hear him gasping for air, and then have that followed by periods of silence, and then the gurgled breathing again. I paced around the house (I got a lot of cleaning done with all the nervous energy), pleading with God to spare the life of Musa – who does not yet know Jesus. I had given Kaleb one of our 2 way radios during one of the trips back to the house for supplies, so we were able to check the progress occasionally.

On the last trip, Sayon and Mordeca came for a pulley and a climbing harness. They were able to rig up a pulley over the hole and lower a well digger that had been found in a bigger town. On his second attempt, he was able to go down quickly, tie a rope under the arm and up over the shoulder of Musa, and be pulled back up. Then the men were able to pull Musa up from what was becoming his grave. Musa arrived at the top alive, with a weak pulse, but unconscious from the lack of oxygen (undoubtedly made worse by the fumes from the gasoline!). Jim was able to call me on the radio to ask what they should do for him medically. Within an hour, he was waking up a little and sat up on his own, and drank a little milk. Jim and the guys began the walk home, along with the dozens of villagers who had gone out to watch the show.

Many people stopped by our house on the way back to thank us for the work that Jim did. It made a huge impression on them that he stayed for the whole time. The area boss guy also thanked Jim for what he did. Today a delegation came from town and from the well village to thank Jim for everything – bring with them a very large rooster as a gift (who crows SO loudly that he is going to find his way into a cooking pot very quickly!) They reported today that Musa is up walking and talking and eating and has no recollection of what happened down in the well.

The whole experience - which had a great ending (praise the Lord)- was an interesting peek into the lives of our friends and neighbors. It brought up an incredible discussion about Jesus’ power over evil spirits, and how as believers, we don’t need to fear the evil spirits. We were excited to see the faith that is growing in our 2 friends here. And we are thankful beyond measure to know that Musa is alive and well. We are trusting that God will use that experience in his life to bring him to the Jesus road.

And I, for one, and thankful that Jim threw aside his to-do-list for the day and followed what the Lord brought before him.

Housekeeping in Guinea

If you have even an ounce of perfectionism in you when it comes to housekeeping and having things in order, then perhaps Guinea is not the place for you! If God does call you here, you will spend endless days in frustration over the state of your house. Not that housekeeping in America is a breeze, but it does seem that there are not as many things working against you. On a constant basis, I fight one or more of the following:

Desert dust: every day, but especially during the months of December – April, when the rains are non-existent, there is an endless stream of dust that flows into the house. Within a few hours of dusting, you can usually return and write your name visibly on whatever surface you just dusted. Of course, all of that dust lands on the windows too. Windex is rather pointless for cleaning our louvered glass windows. You just need a bucket of water and some soap. After washing my windows and dusting, I enjoy walking around, looking at the surfaces and enjoying their dust free appearance, know it will be short lived.

All of that dust also lands on the floors, along with all the dirt trudged inside by my family. In Niaya, I had someone who swept and mopped all week, but do not have that privilege here yet, so it is up to me to stay on top of it. On top of that, our great room floor was not finished correctly, so in my daily sweeping, I end up with piles of cement dust. When it rains, the dust is less, but I then am left to deal with mud. Also, the rains bring out flying termites – a treat to the national kids who catch them, pull off their wings and roast them as a tasty snack. The white lady is less pleased with their appearance as she is left to contend with hundreds of them who fly around the lights at night, dropping into every container imaginable and then who are gone by morning, leaving behind piles of paper fine wings everywhere. On those nights, it brings to mind the plagues of Egypt – I guess I should be thankful they are not frogs.

Another reason for the constant sweeping and mopping is all the medical work that I do on my front porch. I have established a “pus corner” here on the new porch, where I do all of my lancing and cleaning of wounds. I have an endless stream of visitors as well, with little kids peeing and occasionally pooping right on or just off of my porch. Even if you are inside the porch, it doesn’t take a genius to figure out what is happening when you hear me yelling “Hey, this is not a toilet” at someone.

Last but not least, I have piles – not of the Biblical sort – but piles none the less. I have a pile of stuff that I want to give away in the village, a pile of stuff that I need to sort through, a pile of stuff (usually in a trunk) of stuff I need to take back to CKY when I go next time, and always a trunk going of stuff that I need to give to my teammates the next times I see them. That is usually full by the time we meet – even in a week. It is full of books and videos that we trade around, meds that Mindie might need, or a grocery item that someone is short on, things that I want to pass on that someone might be interested in. And then we have paper piles – lists of emails I need to write and things I need to chat with my teammates about, list of groceries needed for whomever is going to CKY next, a pile of medical papers of sick people who are coming back to see me, my to-do list for the day.

All in all, I still LOVE a clean, neat house, but am much less anal about how my house looks than I used to be – mostly to preserve my sanity. My kids might not notice, but it is true. Not if I could just get them to pick up after themselves and experience the joy of a clean, neat room. . . .

Some things I really like about Frigi

Do you have those people that you just really like to be around? They make you think or laugh or smile inside? Our mason, Frigi, is one of those people.

He has been a friend to our teammates for several years – I think even since they arrived in Soulemania -but we have only really gotten to know him in the past 2 years that he has been working on our house. Of course, for much for much of the first year, I didn’t see him much, as Jim was here building and I was in Niaya with the kids. But starting a little over a year ago, I began to get to know him as I spent more and more time at the house. And the more I am around him, the more things that I find I like about him. Here are just a few of my favorites.

1.
I love to hear him answer when I call. Whether I am asking him if he knows where Jim is or if he is thirsty or hungry or if he needs something, whenever I call – “Mr. Frigi?”, he answers with, “Oui, Madame” in this great singsong kind of voice. A few months ago, he started calling me mom – because I take care of him, he says. That always makes me smile.

2.
I love how much he wants to please Jim and do a good job for him. He likes all of the guys on the team and works hard to please them, but I think there is added pressure because Jim used to be a mason and he wants very much for Jim to approve of his work.

3.
I love how every day he comes and thanks me for the lunch meal and for taking good care of him while he is here in the village working (he lives in another village where our teammates live but comes up for several days at a time.)

4.
I love how patient he is. When he finishes work, he takes a bucket of water and soap and goes out to a little enclosure in the back yard and bathes before going to the hut of our friend where he sleeps. One afternoon, he came to ask where his bucket was. I was busy on the porch with about 20 patients and told him I would get it for him in a few minutes. I got distracted and probably 30 – 40 minutes later I saw him sitting quietly on the porch with all of the patients, just waiting for me to take the time to help him. I felt horrible. I said, Why didn’t you remind me? Well, Madame, he said, you were busy and my needs aren’t as important so I can wait. I wanted to squish his guts! (For all you non-Andersons out there, squishing someone's guts is a good thing.)

5.
I love how he takes care of his wife. He hires workers to go to her farm so she doesn’t have to do that. He says he doesn’t believe that men should beat their wives and that they should help out at home because the women have a lot of work to do. . . that’s almost unheard of in a village guy – even among some American guys. ;^) And he loves to take gifts home for his family. Usually we take him home – so he likes to stop off and buy her some fire wood (the kind that burns quickly so she can cook as fast as all the other women and not be made fun of) and he likes to stop and buy peanuts and crackers for his kids. If our boys are with us, and they shoot a bushfowl, that becomes another gift. Once he bought a big fish and we put it at his feet in a bag, but the truck broke down and by the time we arrived at his house- it was smelling very ripe!!!

6.
I love to see him loitering in front of our house after a full day of work and a bath, in hopes that the boys (who have usually gone hunting) will bring him some “beef”. IF it gets late, he says, “If the twins come back with something, can they bring it up to me??? “ And they always do.

7.
I love that he is such a great person to ask cultural questions to. Since he does not live in our village, he has a different perspective than our friends here. So I can ask him questions and be assured that he will really think over the answer. Sometimes he is hesitant – wanting to make sure he does not offend us. He tries to be honest. He will say – Madame, I really don’t know the price of this or that. I want to be straight with my answer for you.

8.
I love his politeness. If he coughs or sneezes, he always says “pardon.” He apologizes for being late or for causing any trouble for you – whether real or imagined.

The one thing that makes me sad is that he does not know the Jesus road yet. But we are praying for that. In the mean time, we look forward to his visits. His work here is almost finished, and we will miss him a lot.