Wedding, HoH, Christmas

It’s been a long time since the last post.  It feels like we’ve been busy, because we have, but it’s hard to say what has been accomplished in that time.  I think it is part of our western culture; we’re goal oriented, and we set about our tasks with specific objectives in mind.  I’m that way to a fault, often at the expense of my relationships.  That’s not the way things are here; between Africa time, lack of resources, lack of motivation, relationships, and distractions; we can feel busy, but outcomes are different.  That said, here’s some of what has been happening in our lives.

The beginning of The Introduction.  Bride and her attendants are huddled together, plenty of speeches to follow...

The wedding is about to begin.

After the washout at the introduction, bride and groom meeting remaining guests.

Building a foundation and 'pouring the slab'.  Use those hammers to make big rocks smaller.
  Kitchen and existing home are behind.

Boy: "Can we burn the ends of your hair?"
Girl:  "It doesn't work with their hair."

Christmas dinner.

We attended our first Introduction and wedding.  There is a couple here on the base, he Canadian and she Ugandan, who were married two weeks ago.  She is from western Uganda, so that’s where the ceremonies were held.  The Introduction is a big deal and is more traditional, while the wedding is important, but has become more ‘westernized’.  We left here at four in the morning for the seven hour drive (three small rental cars, five people in each, no more comfortable than the other modes of transport…) to the bride’s hometown so that we could get there in time to clean up before the introduction which was to start at one(ish).  The introduction ceremony was held at her parents’ cattle farm which is very nice and scenic.  There were over 1000 people there, including friends, family, and nearly everyone from the local village.  It was a catered event (as was the wedding reception), so first everyone was fed; buffet style and quite the spread.  (Apparently in this part of Uganda the food comes after the ceremony, but there it was the other way around.)  Once everyone had eaten and was seated the introduction begins:  There is an emcee (I’ve learned that microphones and PA systems are well liked here) who speaks continuously as the families, special guests, us included, and the groom come ‘in’ and take their seats.  Finally the bride and her escorts, all covered to disguise their identities, are ushered to a mattress in the center of the crowd where they squat down and will remain for most of the rest  of the ceremony.  The groom is then presented with traditional gifts, which of course are explained as they are presented, and then the ‘speeches’ begin.  The speeches are given by family members, pastors, friends, that guy in the market that may have seen the bride or groom one time, and seemingly anyone who might have something nice to say, hand them the microphone.  I’m not sure when they were going to end, but after 2-1/2 hours the sky opened up with a deluge, and that was the end of the ceremony.  There was supposed to be some fanfare of the groom trying to pick his bride from amongst the covered bridal party, but instead everyone scattered into the rainstorm, and the gifts and other things that could be gathered into cover were.  When we tell people who weren’t there the ceremony was cut short by a rainstorm, without exception the response has been: ‘That is a blessing’.  I take it to mean the speeches probably would have continued indefinitely, but some say the rain is a good omen for the marriage.

The next day was the wedding which was to start at ‘midday’ in the church.  Some said midday was around twelve, others closer to one.  I’m still not sure, but when we arrived around 12:15 the church wasn’t very full, but there was an emcee trying to fill the time with explanations of what was happening and what would happen.  And at 12:50 the bride and groom were standing together ‘at the altar’ before the preacher.  It was a very typical wedding, except that anyone with a cellphone or camera was welcome to photograph every aspect of the event and were continually around the couple, getting between them and the preacher and the ‘official’ photographer and videographer.  The reception was held at a hotel about five miles away, and we rushed there right after the wedding since our driver was the emcee and wanted to be there before the guests and wedding party arrived.  It wasn’t really necessary though, since the reception wasn’t done being set up, and it was about three hours before the emcee was needed.  More speeches, the children’s choir singing and dancing, gift presentation, etc.  We eventually got on the road about 7:30 for the long drive home.

I’ve still been busy with Homes of Hope, much of the last ten days ‘helping with’ the foundation and slab for the home a team from the US will be building next week.  We don’t do ‘em like this in the states.  Let’s just say ‘work smarter not harder’ wasn’t in play on this job, and it’s a good thing this isn’t going to be a complex house it’s not going to be subject to a lot of stresses.  Also be thankful for delivery of proper materials and concrete, because that doesn’t happen here.

 

This was our first Christmas abroad and the first without any family.  The climate and environment don’t really set the ‘Christmas mood’, but through the efforts of some people on base, it was actually very nice.  On Christmas eve we visited one family’s home for tea and snacks, then later another’s for more refreshment, and then that evening there was a bonfire, caroling and sharing of scripture with several families represented.  We started Christmas day with calls to our children and Lucy.  Later we had lunch with a Ugandan family, then went to another home for dinner.  Those hosts, a Canadian couple who are running a school here, outdid themselves for all of us (another couple and a couple of students and staff from their school).  Stuffed chicken, veggies, mashed potatoes, and several desserts, all served with special attention and cheer.  It was a very nice day with barely enough time to miss home.

Most of the base is ‘shut down’ for the holidays, which means normal activities are suspended, but there are still some schools running and plenty of people who didn’t leave, so it’s quiet but not dead.  I’m still busy preparing for the HoH build, as well as other projects and repairs that come up.  Beth has spent several afternoons watching movies with the kids on base, and has kept busy with other things as well.  We are learning we don’t need to constantly push to get things done, but it’s hard to change a lifetime of habit and culture.  Change comes slowly…

Forward steps, backward steps

The more you see, the more you know.   As we spend our time here, we’re seeing and hearing more and more about YWAM, the base, and its operation.  It’s not Utopia (darn), and the challenges and frustrations are probably more than we anticipated, so we try to remind ourselves of why we are here and move on.

It’s a big base, with lots of big plans and ideas (vision), but not enough resources and manpower to follow through.  Not enough, really, to maintain what’s already here, so it seems to be the source of a good deal of frustration.  Of course, there are plenty of opinions about what could and should be done, including my own.  But it also presents opportunity for positive change, and I think that’s what Beth and I get to be a part of.  It also means that the men’s vocational training school and health clinic aren’t immediate realities, the resources just aren’t available for either and it wouldn’t be wise to start another project which can’t be done well.  I believe we’ll see those things at some point, but for now we are filling other roles.  The biggest is building relationship; with staff and students and others we meet and interact with.

One of the successful programs here is a girl’s vocational school.  Most of the girls come from backgrounds which would make it very difficult to finish their education or develop useful skills which would allow them to become self-sufficient.  Many are orphans, or have had to drop out of school, or lived in situations which put them at risk for failure.  They come here to live for a year while learning skills; hospitality, cooking and baking, and others, as well as participating in the base community. We (primarily Beth) are building rapport and spending much time with the girls.  It’s part of the mentoring role which we play and is really the bigger reason for being here.

The most time consuming thing for me has been to try to keep the Homes of Hope block production going.  Unfortunately it’s not been very successful.  Equipment breakdowns, power failures, having to relocate have all interrupted what we’re trying to accomplish.  Basically we’re trying to make giant legos from expanding foam (the kind you seal gaps with).  It requires a consistent high amperage electrical supply for the air compressor and heating elements, specific chemicals for cleaning the equipment, and a clean and organized work area.  None of which are available here, so we try to make due.  We’ve now set up in a chicken coop, but because of breakdowns haven’t got much done in the last two weeks.  It’s obviously not the appropriate technology right now, but since there is a group coming in two weeks to build a home, and the equipment and chemicals are here we’re going to follow through with production for now, and re-evaluate whether to continue the process once the remaining 55 gallon barrels of chemical are gone.

Between the times spent on that I’ve taken on the task of trying to clean and organize some of the storerooms on base.  I’d done one when we had to relocate the HoH operation, and unfortunately it became the catchall for that.  There seems to be a tendency to throw things which are broken or not known what they are, or for, into locked spaces where they get buried and become home for rats, mice, wasps and other critters.  Anything of value or usefulness disappears because of a lack of accountability or knowledge of what’s there.  It’s our hope to restore those things.  Meanwhile I get to go on treasure hunts, and have already used many things to improvise on other projects.

Last week the School of Sustainable Agriculture that was here finished up.  Since the leaders and four of the students were American, and because graduation coincided with Thanksgiving, they decided to treat the base to a Thanksgiving feast; complete with green beans, mashed potatoes and gravy, pumpkin pie, some local dishes, and beef.  (Turkey and chicken were too expensive.) The girl’s vocational school did all the cooking and serving, and it was excellent, and everyone really enjoyed the evening, including the music and dancing after the graduation ceremony and meal.

This week we’ve moved into what should be our more permanent home.  We’ve taken over the space previously occupied by the Ag school leaders, and prior to that another couple close to our age.  It’s basically a one bedroom apartment with a small kitchen and (terribly executed) bathroom.  The other couples have done a good job of stocking it with kitchen supplies and a few furnishings, so we have only a few things to do to make it ‘home’.  Both the other couples have tentative plans to return, so it will be interesting to see how we’re all situated if we’re here together.

"That is a snake!"  (almost as big as the spiders)

some Thanksgiving desserts

some Thanksgiving caterers- vocational school girls

Homes of hope block making arrangement.  Chickens on the other side of the screen aren't happy.

One night in the other place I found a snake in the kitchen.  It was small, maybe sixteen inches, dark in color, and kind of pretty, but we didn’t know what kind it was.  Rather than kill it, I caught it in a bucket to let go because I prefer harmless snakes to mice and some of the other critters that snakes eat.  There were some people in a common room next door and Beth went over to ask if anyone could identify the snake we’d caught in our room.  One young man said he knew about snakes and came over to help us out.  When he came over and looked in the bucket he declared:  “That is a snake!”  We’ve met a lot of people, and I don’t know all their names yet, but I’m calling that man Sherlock.

Homes of Hope

 It’s been a busier week.  There is a YWAM ministry based out of Tijuana called Homes of Hope.  Their mission is to build homes for the poor; efficiently using cost effective technology, and locally available materials and labor.  One of the technologies they’ve been using is foam building blocks encased in plaster and concrete.  Last year they shipped most of the equipment needed to make the foam blocks here, and then built a home in Kakira (see last blog).  Dr. Tim, the Hopeland director, has a vision to build several homes in the area, including a long range vision of building an entire community and sees Homes of Hope as a logical fit in that vision.  Last year HoH shipped molds, other equipment, chemicals, and many other materials for producing the foam blocks.  They also sent a couple of guys to set things up, and later a team to build the home.  They’ve also purchased many tools and materials here, and have trained a few young men in the process.  Two guys from HoH have been here for the last week to try to get it going again in anticipation of building more homes beginning next month.  There have been a lot of problems with the equipment and very few blocks have been made so far, but it seems most of the kinks have been worked out and there may be better results moving forward.  Since I’ll be working with young men to develop vocational skills, I will be heavily involved in this project.

setting up for block building

celebrating....

Beth has had a busy week as well.  One day she attended a meeting in town to meet with several medical professionals from various organizations which have different ministries in the area.  She met another nurse there who was able to spend a day with Beth giving a crash course in HIV/AIDS, and its treatment methods here in Uganda.  On Friday she was planning to go to visit Musana and some of the people there, but first she and some of the other ladies on base met with the Women with Hope group.  Turns out one of those women had died, so the whole group walked to her home in a nearby village for the pre-funeral viewing.  Beth and one of the other women here have also begun an early morning exercise routine twice a week which they are hoping others will join.  She also was asked to administer IV drugs to one of the vocational school girls who had been to a clinic in town, and diagnosed with a serious infection for which she had been given several meds.  Beth and I have also been asked to take on a kind of mentoring and parenting role to the vocational school girls, which is something Beth had been feeling called to already.  When we move into our ‘permanent’ quarters it will be near where the vocational girls are housed.

On Saturday there was a big celebration on base.  One of the staff members and her husband are celebrating their 25^th anniversary, and that’s a big deal here.  It started with a special service at their church, then a parade through town, followed by a procession to the base.  There was a marching band, much pomp and circumstance, speeches, dance performances, bubbles, gift giving, and a feast.  There were hundreds of people in attendance, typical I understand, for such events.

This base is very peaceful and somewhat secluded, but we have been warned last time here and this, that it’s not safe to be out after dark.  There have been rapes, murders, and robberies are common.  We’ve also been warned to always lock our room because ‘even though YWAM people are mostly honest, there are a lot of people who move around on and through the base’.  It’s okay though, because the base is mostly fenced, and there are large gates at the two road accesses, one of which is guarded most of the time.  Of course we noticed that one of those gates and much of the surrounding fence was missing when we got here this time.  Also, when we returned to the base one evening at about nine, it took several honks from the boda driver to wake up the guard to unlock the remaining gate and let us in.  I guess we could have walked the hundred yards or so, to where the other gate had previously been.  Before it was stolen…

                                   

stories

 Everybody has a story, right?  As you get to know people you begin to learn their stories; some will tell you directly, others you learn by circumstances and observations.  Yours, mine, theirs; they are constantly being written, and told, and interpreted.  We’re seeing and hearing some of those stories:

Nancy is a 58 year old widow from Kenya who is a student in the Discipleship Training School.  Like us, she is not your typical DTS student, she is in a class with mostly twenty-somethings with an entirely different outlook on life.  But she has wisdom, and faith unlike any one I’ve met.  She lost her husband twenty years ago, and in her culture that is a terrible thing.  Without a husband ‘a woman is nothing’, disdained by nearly everyone, including his and her own family.  She wanted to die, but God showed up.  He is her source; father, friend, provider, everything and everyone to her.  Her confidence and poise are amazing and inspiring.  We are excited to hear how God uses her during the DTS’s upcoming outreach.

George is a 36 year old student in one of the other schools here.  Orphaned and sent to live with uncles at age four, and put out on the streets at six.  He ate from rubbish piles and survived the streets.  He was taken in for part of his childhood by a widow who ensured he attended school where he completed part of his primary education.  As a teenager he joined the Ugandan military to ‘fight for my country’ against Joseph Koni’s forces who were terrorizing his part of the country.  Afterword he returned to his ‘home’ on the streets.  He then spent nine years as a fisherman on Lake Victoria before meeting Jesus.  His life was transformed, including deliverance from a twenty year opium habit.  He has nothing, but finds himself here preparing for the fulfillment of his dream of a ministry for Ugandan street kids.

Julius and Mary are on staff over the girl’s vocational school, and they are who we will be primarily working with for the boy’s vocational school.  They have four children, two at home, and two in boarding school.  Julius’ father suffered a stroke last year and lives with them here on the base.  Last weekend Julius’ brother was hit by a car while on his way to work and left for dead on the side of the road.  A passer-by found him, and he was somehow transported to the hospital in Kampala.  Broken pelvis, broken arm, crushed facial bones, and internal injuries.  One surgery so far and another scheduled for tomorrow.  (If the $180 can be found to pay for it.)  Julius has been staying with him in the hospital, and Mary can’t leave the house because of her father-in-law’s condition.  Financially, Julius and Mary are eking by, and this ‘run of bad luck’ hasn’t helped matters, but by their faith and positive attitudes you’d hardly know it.

Of course there are others…

On Friday Beth and I went to a nearby small town, Kakira, to buy bananas for the Women With Hope meeting that was to be held later that afternoon, and to buy g-nuts, raw shelled peanuts for someone who asked us to do so.  We found the market which is mostly empty during the week, but we did find a young boy selling bananas from a tray on his head.  We made him wide eyed and happy when we bought his entire stock, but we still needed to buy g-nuts and asked him where to find them.  He didn’t understand English though, but an older boy nearby seemed to.  He talked to the younger boy, and we understood that we were to follow the younger to a place to get the nuts.  Single file, we left the market, then the town itself, and weaved our way through a ‘residential’ area; mud houses, garden plots, chickens, goats, cows, and lots of kids.  It was apparent we weren’t going to be buying from a typical vendor, and Beth asked if the kid (who kept looking back at us) understood, or we should turn back, but I figured we were being taken to ‘an inside source’.  After several minutes we arrived at a place where the boy’s grandmother (I presume) stood talking to two other bewildered women sitting in their doorways and staring at the Mzungus who had followed the boy home.  The grandmother took the banana money, and between the three women we were able to determine they did not have g-nuts there.  We gave the boy a small tip, said our thank-yous and goodbyes, and made our way back to the market.  There we found a pair of women sitting on a mat shelling peanuts.  The peanuts were not ready to be sold, and the women didn’t speak English either, but one was able to understand what we wanted.  She took Beth’s hand and guided us to a stall where she woke up a man who then sold us some g-nuts.

Beth wants to take some Luganda lessons.  Perhaps we should.

a view from a boda

not what you want your driver to be doing

searching for g-nuts

Guidelines

As I type this Bryan is on his way to the airport where he’ll begin his trip home with an overnight flight, and Beth is lying on the bed with a major migraine.  She was bragging to her best friend last night about being headache free so far.  Oops…

 We’re sad to see Bryan go; it’s been great being able to spend time with him in a country he loves.  To watch him interact with the locals, adults and children, is inspiring; there is a natural bond that we haven’t seen between the locals and most Mzungus (white people).  It doesn’t matter if they are boda-boda drivers, shop keepers, beggars, or children in an orphanage or on the street; when interacting with Bryan there seems to be mutual respect and relationship that crosses cultural barriers.  He leaves behind many friends and a few broken hearts, and I’m sure he’ll find his way back here in the future.  Of course with his departure we will have no reason not to focus on our roles here.

Those roles are still being determined.  We did have orientation meetings this week and are becoming more familiar with the operation of the base here, and how it fits into the big YWAM picture.  One of the visions of course is to have a young men’s vocational school, and another is to have a health clinic, and those will be a large part of where Beth and I focus our energy.  But since in reality both of those may be a ways off, we will also be participating in some of the ministries on base.  Because the base here is part of YWAM, it’s focus is not necessarily to change this part of the world as another ‘fix it, do good’ organization, but rather the focus is on training in many areas for students from around the world, to prepare them for what God is calling them to.  Having these bases in Africa makes it more accessible to Africans who would otherwise not have the opportunities.  We have met staff and students from several African nations, India, Britain, Canada, and the USA.  The vocational schools are actually an exception to the YWAM mission, as they are targeting local at risk youth to help them to be successful in their communities.  But of course because of its presence here, YWAM is doing service and ministries for the local communities.  One of those which Beth has already been involved in is Women of Hope; a support group of sorts for HIV positive women, mostly widows and/or single mothers who come regularly for encouragement, fellowship, and a break from their difficult lives.

Part of the training this week included the rules of the base for staff, which I think we now officially are.  Except they are not really rules, they are guidelines to be followed according to our own consciences and the honor system.  We are a Christian volunteer organization, after all.

There are rules and laws in place in Uganda, as well, that should probably be more accurately referred to as guidelines.  For instance the taxis:  These are diesel powered Toyota vans which when delivered from the factory have seats for ten passengers and the driver.  Originally equipped there is a seat in the front on the other side of the engine from the driver, three two person benches opposite the sliding door, and a three person bench in the back.  But as modified the engine becomes a seat, another two person bench is added making four rows instead of three, and little flip down seats are welded to the ends of the two person benches, adding three more seats.  Four rows of three, plus two in the front, now the taxi is equipped and licensed for fourteen passengers; it says so right on the door.  It’s just a guideline.  In addition to the driver each taxi also has a conductor, it’s his job to take money and recruit passengers by banging on the door and shouting the destination, or, in some cases, harassing people on the street until they get in.  Because the taxi isn’t really going until it’s met the fourteen passenger guideline, but there’s room for more.  Guidelines +three, +four, +six; it’s really up to the imagination what the limit is.  And that’s just the adults, children fill in the few remaining gaps.  Similar to our travel experiences in Cameroon, actually…

Bed bug update:  We’re not sure if they’re bedbugs, but pretty sure of the source, and it’s not the bed.  There are two wicker chairs in our space which I had been sitting in, and it seems that’s when I would get bitten.  Since I’ve stopped sitting there, the amount of bites I get are way down, though not entirely. 

Bryan with some of HELP's kitchen staff...

...and showing his brick making skills with the crew.

2010 photo inside a taxi.  Equipment is older, but procedures are the same.

one of the neighbors who lives over our door

another neighbor

another guideline, perhaps?

look right, and don't let the bedbugs bite

Apparently I didn’t get the memos.

Jinja is the second largest city in Uganda, and while not huge, it has its share of traffic.  A congested mixture of trucks, taxi vans, cars, motorcycles, bicycles, and pedestrians.  While there are no lines on the roads or traffic control devices (lights, stop signs, crosswalks…), traffic generally stays on the correct side of the road for the direction of travel.  Thanks to our friends, the Brits, who colonized this part of Africa, that side of the road is opposite of what we’re accustomed to.  Therefore when we go to cross the street I tend to look left for an opening, which I can usually find.  As often as not, though, a beeping horn, a shout, or sometimes the tinkling of a bicycle bell will remind me I’ve looked the wrong way.  Outside of town there is an established hierarchy on the highway:  Pedestrians to the far left, then bicycles, bodas next (motorcycle taxis which we knew as motos in Cameroon), then the cars, taxis, and trucks.  Of course there is the constant vying for position based on speed which makes for some very interesting passing situations.  We were reminded of that last night when the mirror of the boda we were on was clipped by that of a passing van.  No one was hurt, glass didn’t break, and we continued on apparently with hardly a second thought.

We’re not sure if they’re bedbugs yet, but I am covered with itching bites which has me thinking maybe so.  How could there possibly be bedbugs here, right?  But in the unlikely event that’s what it does turn out to be, I will try to find some DDT, which I think is still available here, and treat the room.  The stork population here is thriving, so I don’t think their eggshells are suffering.

As far as our roles on base and purpose for being here, we are still in the very early stages.  There is a vision for a health care clinic and other health services, and a men’s vocational training school.  None of which have been established, so we will be helping with that.  We will be part of foundation building; physically, figuratively, and spiritually.  It is intimidating, there will be many challenges, but we are excited about what God has in store, and have no doubt that we are supposed to be here.  I know that I have to be patient, not necessarily one of my strong points…

We have been able to spend a few hours with Bryan, so far, and look forward to more in his last week here.  We both have commitments, but we will have more time spent together which will hopefully include a trip to Musana.  That’s where this whole journey began for us, and it has now become a model and standard for what can be achieved here.  There are (too) many organizations here, especially in and around Jinja, nearly all with good intentions, doing good things, but it has also created a dependency which needs to be broken, and Musana has been very successful in that regard.

Hopeland is the biggest YWAM base in Uganda, and right now is very crowded.  There are four schools underway, and several individuals staying on base as well.  There are also more families here with young children than when we were here before.  We are staying in the same guest room as last time, but it’s supposed to be only temporary, though that could mean several weeks.  We’re still adjusting to the way of life which I would call casually structured.  We will go through a staff orientation next week which should be helpful.

temporary home

Our travel here was very smooth.  Our flights went fine, getting through customs here is easy, and then an easy ride to the guest house near the airport where we stayed before being met by Bryan and a driver the next morning.  (Yes we were screened for Ebola; a questionnaire, chemical wash of our hands, and a guy in a mask and apron taking our temperature.)  We’re still adjusting to the time difference (it’s 4:30 am now, I’ve been wide awake since midnight), my experience tells me it will be several more days.  It’s also rained every day so far “which means the next rainy season won’t be as long, or maybe it will”.  There has been a thunderstorm going on for the last several hours with more heavy rain.  It doesn’t seem to slow anyone down, but it does make it difficult to stay mud free.

We adapt

The Interlude

We've been 'home' for three months, but now we are heading to Uganda where we believe it is we are called for now.

It's been a busy three months, for me mostly working on the garage/building so that we can store our stuff.  I (we) couldn't have done it without much help from friends and family, for which we are extremely grateful.

But it wasn't all work, there was time for visits with old and new friends, and family.  There was a road trip to Virginia, seeing the aspen changing in the Colorado mountains, Steamboat with Dave, Gwen, Kailey, and Lucy, and lots of shared good times.

Speaking of Lucy, today she turns one, just ask her;  she'll show you her index finger and smile.  She is a joy, and makes it very difficult to leave, but God gives us grace for things like this, so we go.

Please keep us in your thoughts and prayers

stuff

kisses for grandma

Winding down

It's been a pretty uneventful week, especially since we've had to re-establish our cover story.  The rainy season brings some changes to Garoua.  Not as hot, more humid, a thunderstorm with rain every few days, some greenery, and bugs.  Lots of bugs.  During the day it's flies, hundreds of them, and at night a herpatologist's (I think that's the name of people who study bugs?) dream.  If you're near an outdoor light you'll be in a swarm of thousands of insects which vary depending on if it's actually raining or how recently it did.  There are gnats, flies, crickets, grasshoppers, various beetles, cockroaches, and many others.  The nights after it rains bring out the type of bug the child was playing with near us on the train.  They're similar to dragonflies and practically form a curtain around the light, then in the morning there are piles of their wings on the ground, and the rest of them are gone.  There are also snails and millipedes all around, and of course mosquitoes.  We're sleeping under a net again, not just for the mosquitoes, but also for all the other pests which seem to want to spend the night with us.  The lizards are shamelessly mating, as well.  Water brings life...
As things wind down here everyone is also having a difficult time staying focused.  Beth and I  mostly know what's ahead, the guys have some things to figure out, but I think it's probably hardest for Jonas and Rebecca who are facing the biggest changes.   They will be moving to Kribi when this DTS is finished and that is consuming much of their thoughts and energy.  They miss their children terribly; for Jonas it's been nearly two months since seeing them, and Rebecca only had the short visit (her and Beth left Kribi one day ahead of us to see them) after leaving them a month ago.  Also they face many other challenges; finding a home, getting their few belongings there (no small feat when transport is so difficult), starting a new job, establishing a YWAM base (their true passion), and getting the radio up and running.
One of the core values of YWAM is to 'live by faith', trusting God to meet all of one's needs, and Jonas and Rebecca exemplify that.  As Christians we're all supposed to live that way, and I think most of us do (or say we do), but personally I've never had to live it the way many do.  I've never been unemployed, or had to rely on God using others to meet my needs.  My heritage makes it difficult for me to live that way or even understand those who do.  Being here, however, has helped me to be more empathetic towards them, and I've seen that it's much more stressful than I've realized.  I'm thankful that even now, as we beging this new way of life, we're able to do so without the additional pressure of having to raise support, and rely on (God using) others to supply our material needs.
School will end soon,  and I ask myself what I've really learned.  The academics haven't been earth shattering and most of the material isn't new.  Certainly some different ways of looking at  a few things, but for me not life changing.  Living in a different culture has it's challenges, and we've had to adapt in many areas.  That as well, has provided for some (I think) interesting anecdotes.  But the true purpose of the Discipleship Training School, is to get people out of their comfort zones, and for them to learn more about God and themselves.  Although this school wasn't what I, or Beth, had envisioned; it has succeeded in those areas, and we have no regrets.  In fact, we've discussed several times that for anyone considering something like this, go for it, stretch yourself.
This may be my last post from here, so now is a good time to thank all of those who have been praying for us, and/or following along.  One thing that has been re-enforced is the need for and power of prayer, and your prayers have been instrumental throughout this.  I will for sure resume posting again from Uganda when we go in the fall and possibly an update or two before then.  Thanks for joining us on our goose chase....
b

hard to see, but they're there.  bugs

escargo, anyone?

Spies like us...

 ...Or Our Cover Was Nearly Blown, or International Incidents and Divine Appointments II

 Beth had proposed that we (the guys and us) go to town, have some lunch, see the river and port, maybe do a little shopping.  Just get away from the house for a few hours and hopefully see a different side of Garoua.  Things are still a little uncomfortable around here, and we thought everyone could use the break.  Before we went though, Beth and Rebecca went for a hair appointment and a little shopping of their own.  When they returned the moto driver spilled his bike in front of the house with them on it and Beth's leg was burned on the exhaust pipe.  Nothing requiring treatment, but very painful, so Beth decided she wouldn't go with us.  As we were trying to decide our course of action, Beth was able to wrap the leg in gauze and realized she would be no more comfortable here, so figured she would rather be a part of the group.  (It was her idea to begin with...)

There is a fairly large river running past the town, and though it is shallow there is enough water during the rainy season (Which we've discovered is also bug season, and lizard mating season.) for barges to be used for transport, and there is a small port for them.  That's where we initially headed, for lunch and to walk around.  There's really not much there, another small hodge-podge market and several fish 'restaraunts':  A row of ladies selling grilled fish with a few tables and benches with woven grass mats separating the 'restaraunts'.  After lunch we walked to the river's edge at the foot of the bridge which is part of the main highway which runs through the country.  Turns out that that area is also the men's bathing area where many of the locals come to bathe, swim, wash their motorcycles, and do their laundry.  I don't bathe with my clothes on, and neither do they, so a white woman carrying a camera doesn't really fit in well, and a few were saying things, but most actually ignored us or looked at us curiously.

Of course we wanted to go up on the bridge, to see the panoramas, take more pictures, we had no real agenda, and were in no hurry to be anywhere.  We lingered several minutes about midway across then Beth decided we might as well go the rest of the way before heading back to town.  (Note:  One of our class topics this week was personalities which helped us to understand several things about ourselves and each other.  Decisiveness is not one of the characteristics of most of this group.)  By the time we got to the south end of the bridge, Beth and I were on one side looking east, and the rest of the group was on the other side basically following along.  The rains have done a great deal to clean the air, and the view from where we were was nice, reminding me of some of northern Colorado and southern Wyoming.  As I turned around I faced three men half dressed in military uniforms coming at us with their large machine guns (bigger than AK-47's or M-16's, not sure what they were) leveled in our direction, hollering and gesturing.  I got Beth's attention, and we quickly understood that they were ordering us to come with them.

We crossed back over the road where they directed us to a steep set of steel stairs leading down to the foot of the bridge.  We were joined by Abel, Stephan, and Sampson which surprised the soldiers, but the guys explained that we were together as a group.  (When he saw what was happening Oliver quickly escaped back across the bridge and caught a moto home.)  The soldiers angrily directed us to some large rocks and had us sit (I didn't).  We had the river several yards away on one side of us, and several women in their lean-to's on the other.  Cooking, selling things and going about their business.  There were several men present as well, and since the stairs ended at a path leading to a nearby village there was constant foot traffic.  The soldiers had already taken the camera, told us we couldn't call anyone, and through their shouted questions determined that Abel is Congolese, we are American, and S and S are Cameroonian, and took their ID cards.  Even though we tried to answer their questions they didn't seem interested in the responses and seemed more interested in shouting.  One spoke a little English, but he was the same way; asking questions and making statements, but uninterested in what we had to say.  Since we knew this was being blown way out of proportion we weren't too concerned and used the time to pray and whisper to one another.  The leader, who was the angriest, would shout something, go off to make a phone call, or try to figure out the camera, but rebuffed my offers to help.  Each time he would return he would be a little more put together, eventually becoming fully dressed complete with his bayonet in its scabbard on his hip.  At one point three of them were lacing their boots at the same time, but I only saw one other in a complete uniform, and he never approached us directly, but would talk to the others instead.  This went on for nearly an hour, then we were ordered back up the stairs.

At the top of the stairs were several men in civilian clothes in and around a nice, late model, crew cab Toyota Tacoma pickup*  There was one who was obviously in charge, and he ordered us to get in.  Though Beth was refusing at first, and the rest of us protesting that we wouldn't go without knowing where we were being taken or allowed to call Jonas, with threats, shouts, pushing, and grabbing we were convinced to go.  Abel, Beth, and I were in the cab, and S and S were in the back with the leader of the soldiers and several other men.  We crossed back over the bridge and headed through town, and as we did Beth saw Jonas passing by toward the bridge on the back of a moto.  (Oliver had made it through to reinforcements!)  The man in charge and and the driver were arguing about where we were going, and there were several course changes and u-turns along the way.  As we approached a familiar area fairly close to 'home' I thought that's where they were taking us, and even tapped the leader and gestured to keep going as they were making another u-turn.  But I was wrong, he had just missed the driveway of a ministry of defense building, and that's where they took us.  Upon arrival we were all directed to take seats by the man in charge while he and the leader discussed the situation and made some phone calls.  (You could tell he was in charge because of the stencilled logo on his polo shirt for some bar and cigar club.  The things on people's clothing here made to make them look western are a blog topic of their own.)  We used the time on the porch as another opportunity to pray together for God's will to be done in all of this.

It was quickly determined that we were in the wrong place, so it was back to the truck.  We made it to the end of the driveway, about 20 yards, when one of the men in back gestured he wanted out, as he must have decided this was as close as the truck would take him to his destination.  He took a tool box and a large pipe wrench and began walking north, as we headed south back to town.
By now it was raining heavily, but we didn't have far to go before we were on the national guard base, our next destination, and no one got too wet.  After some discussion between the leader and the driver we pulled up to a long building and again were taken to the porch.  This time Abel, Beth, and I were directed to a bench while S and S were kept separate at the other end.  They were again being harassed and shamed, but seemed to be holding up well.  Jonas also showed up there, but was only allowed to say who he was, but not contribute anything else.  He also asked us where our passports were so he could have Rebecca bring them.  After about a half hour there we were told to get back in the truck.  This time Jonas rode with us, so it was crowded like a taxi, but since we only drove about 200 yards we didn't get the full effect.  Again we were directed onto another porch, but quickly learned we were in the wrong place.  Instead of getting back into the truck, though, we walked across the road to the correct building.

At the next building we were welcomed by the 'chief' and a few other men and escorted into a large office which housed the chief's (cluttered) desk, as well as another empty desk and a small table and bench and a few chairs.  Abel, Beth, the two leaders, and I were invited to sit while S and S were made to stand.  There was a man in handcuffs sitting on the floor between the desks, and a woman sitting at the table, and loud American country western music was playing from a player on the chief's desk.  The leaders handed over the camera and the ID cards and told their story to the chief.  I showed the chief how to the view the pictures, which he did with the other leaders looking on.  He also asked S and S several questions then had them escorted out to (we later found out) be placed in a dark, filthy jail cell.  He then began hand writing on a plain piece of notebook paper his report.  Once he had finished, he asked the leaders to sign it, and then dismissed them.  This wasn't satisfactory to the military leader, who again began telling his story of how he'd caught us taking sensitive pictures, and how I'd tried to get Beth to hide the camera, and whatever else he thought would enhance the dire gravity of the situation.  But eventually they departed, and we were left sitting in the office.  At some point during all of this Rebecca showed up with our passports.  She had  a plastic bag on her head to protect her new hairdo (remember how Beth and her started the day), and explained that the roads around the house were like rivers, no motos would bring her, but that she'd eventually been able to flag down a car.

Are you bored yet?  Well by now so were we, but there we sat.  The chief made a phone call, and with my limited understanding of French I could hear him explaining that there was nothing of importance on the camera; pictures of kids, animals, people eating, scenery, and etc.  After he hung up he did more paperwork, carried on conversations with people coming and going, paid a kid for more phone credit, and what appeared to be busy work.  Eventually he brought S and S back in, asked them more questions and let them sit in chairs.  At one point he pulled some cologne (more like perfume, to me) out of a drawer and told them they stank, and to put some on.  And we waited some more.  We also knew by now that this wasn't going much further, so Beth asked if we could get a picture with the chief, to which he agreed.  She had the woman who was still sitting at the table snap a couple of pictures.  Eventually an older man in traditional clothes appeared, took the report and asked to see the pictures, so I turned on and returned the camera to the chief so he could show them.  Once satisfied, he returned the camera, took the report and went to another room with Jonas.  And we sat.

After some time during this waiting a man came in with three women and greeted the chief and another officer in sweat pants and a t-shirt who had been there for most of the time, carrying on conversations with the woman at the table and others who came and went.  Beth convinced me to offer my chair to one of the women, and when I did the man they had come with said no, and Stephan told me 'no, they are prisoners'.  I told him Jesus loved prisoners, too, and that one of them could have my seat (not really a sacrifice, I have yet to find a comfortable chair in Cameroon), and Abel followed suit.  This must have got the man's attention, because he began asking Rebecca and S and S some questions. He then explained to us in English that he knew about YWAM, was the spiritual son of one of it's African leaders, and was going to get involved with YWAM locally.  He then went off to find Jonas to exchange information.  The ladies who had come with him were eventually taken somewhere else as well.  And we waited.

S and S went into the next room to watch a world cup match, while Beth, Rebecca, the woman at the table, and I sat.  The chief continued to write on different reports and forms, and the other man came and went.  The woman at the table was looking miserable, so Beth asked if she was okay, which she wasn't.  After Beth gave her some ibuprofen her and Rebecca began speaking with her. Her name is Muriel, she was also in custody, accused by her aunt of adultery with her uncle, and awaiting disposition.  Beth and Rebecca spent a lot of time praying with, and encouraging and comforting her.
 
Then, at 8:15 Jonas walked in and said:  "Let's go, we're finished"  And, apparently,  the ordeal which had begun around two o'clock was over.  We weren't taken by Boco Horam, and, due to the thorough work of many, it was determined we weren't working with them to blow the bridge either.
(Now it's Monday, and we've just returned from a different police building where we went to prove that there really is a YWAM base and school in Garoua, and that we are in fact students.  But, even though we were there about an hour, first standing on another porch, then sitting in an office, we never met with anyone.  Jonas met with someone in a different office, and the ultimate outcome was that someone from the government will certify something tomorrow that he has been trying to get them to do for almost three years.  Also, afterward we ran into the Tacoma driver in the market, and he was a much different person; friendly, apologetic, and warm.  Another reminder that sometimes people are just doing their jobs, which I appreciated throughout this experience.)
I know that this is a long post, even without several other details, but I want every one to know that we are safe here, and they take any threats to security very seriously.  If you want to do damage here you will be challenged by several levels of jurisdiction before being allowed to do so.  Also, you should probably consider doing your deeds before 1 pm or after 4 pm, because they like their naps, and are pretty cranky if they are interrupted.

Waiting for our delicious lunch...

of fish and plantain, before setting off...

for our true mission:  Casing the strategic bridge.

It seemed like a perfect cover story, a couple of naive western missionaries taking advantage of a rare day off.

Luckily, our cover wasn't blown, because of the thorough investigative work (or ignorance) of this man, the 'chief'.  (Blurry because the photographer was a fellow prisoner probably quaking with fear.)

*One of the first things I noticed was the Texas inspection sticker on the windshield, and what good condition the truck was in.  It had obviously been recently been given a lousy military green paint job,  but was otherwise like new.  The driver didn't seem familiar with it, the odometer showed less than 7000 miles, and it still had the dealer license plate brackets front and back bearing the name 'Tejas Toyota' from a border town which slips my mind right now.  I would bet a lot of money that the truck was stolen near the border, taken into Mexico, then shipped to Cameroon.  If you recently 'lost' a nice white Tacoma pickup, I think I might know where it is.

Ergonomic incorrectness

We're back in Garoua after another 40+ hour travel oddesssy

One of the children who took up temporary residence in the aisle...Difficult to see are the winged insects in each hand that his mother grabbed for him.  He was having a great time holding one of four wings on each bug, and letting the others buzz.

P

Prior to departure.  It will look much different soon enough.

We pass dozens of these homes, compounds, villages when travelling by bus or train.

which began before five a.m. Saturdaydand ended here late Sunday night.  It's the 'rainy season' here which means cooler temperatures, and rain and mud, and things growing.  That's what they say.  Reality is; it's hot, a little more humid, and there are weeds where there was previously bare earth.  Actually they haven't had the normal rainfall, and they're worried.  There has been just enough rain to get the weeds to grow, but that's about all.  It actually does feel a little cooler than before, and the last two nights have become comfortable by early morning.  Has the affects of global warming, oh I'm sorry, climate change, reached Garoua?

Not to beat the dead horse about transportation, but there were some differences in our experiences on the return trip.  First of all I figured out that part of the misery of the taxis (19 or 30 place vans), and the buses is the design of the seats.  They are not ergonomically correct.  On the vans there is no contour to the seats, the backs are nearly upright, and there is very little padding.  On the 70 passenger bus there is some contour to the seats, and even a little padding, but not much leg or shoulder room.  And, on both the vans and the bus the seats are too low, you're sitting below a natural seated position.  The result is all your weight rests on one spot, and on this skinny white guy it's where my leg bones meet my hip bones in my buttocks.  Which means great pain there, a loss of circulation in the legs, and constant attempts to find a better position.  Realizing it hasn't helped, it just made me focus on it more, and the ride longer.   In the bus the lower seat position also affects the view out as it places the beam dividing the upper and lower parts of the windows right at eye level.
We rode in second class on the train this time.  What that meant was that at the origin of the trip, Yaounde, we purchased tickets to the destination, Ngaoundere, giving us assigned seats in the second class car.  The cars are new, having been put into service between our southbound and northbound journeys.  Even with assigned seats though, when they allow boarding there is a mad scramble to get aboard.  That's because there is limited space for bags in the overhead racks and under the seats which people are trying to get.  When we arrived at the car the porter and another man were in ongoing argument with the man not being allowed to board due to the size of his bag.  Meanwhile others were boarding around them, but when it came my turn my bag was too big as well.  Stephan tried to intervene in French, to no avail, so there I stood.  The argument between the two was often heated with the man several times trying to force his way past which resulted in two policemen showing up and arguing with him as well.  Then Jonas showed up to try to plead my case using soft words and nice gestures.  The other man eventually wrestled his past the policeman and the porter amidst much shouting and went aboard.  Finally, I don't know what was said, but I was also allowed to board.  This was around 5:40 pm for a scheduled 7:10 departure.  Once everyone has their seats and their bags stowed they come and go until the actual time of departure; that night 8:50 pm.
Stepping aboard the new 88 person car was impressive, clean with rows of four contoured seats around a small table on both sides.  They were close together and didn't recline, but hey with it this nice who needs first class?   After the delay for unknown reasons, and with everyone settled into their seats, including the two folddown jumpseats in the end of the car the journey began.  That's when the also unlocked the bathroom door revealing a clean little unit, even stocked with TP.  At the first of many stops, more people boarded finding places wherever they could mostly in the spaces at the end of the cars and between them.  This is repeated at every stop throughout the trip and eventually there are people wherever space allows, standing, sitting, or laying in the aisles with their possessions scattered about.  (Including the chicken in the bag generally under the seat in front of us, but moving about as much as space and limited mobility allowed.)  Occasionally people would get off, but it seemed more were boarding at each stop than ever got off.  At around three am a mother and her three small children boarded and Beth gestured that there was a little space in the aisle next to us which they filled.  They were some who actually got off at a stop around daybreak, but others quickly filled the space.  Throughout the entire trip there are people passing the train selling things including; drinks, snacks, books, toothbrushes and toothpaste, sacks, and other items.  After each round trip they return again with some new item(s), stepping on, and over people and their possessions each time.  The lights are never turned off, and yet most people are able to sleep through it all.  (Except for the old man sitting a few seats away who got very angry when we tried to get a picture of it all, even asking the soldier in a seat nearby to make sure there were no pictures of it on the camera.)  You can imagine what the car and that neat little bathroom looked like at the end of the journey... I don't know if those people getting on along the way are considered second class or something else, but it sure didn't seem like a good way of doing things to me.
One other thing about the train ride:  At every stop along the way there are people who come along side trying to sell things.  Water, bananas, avacados, batons de manioc, watches, palm oil, and etc.  They are competing with one another, elbowing and shouting in the hopes of parting with a few of the items piled on the bowls or trays atop their heads, and making a few hundred francs in the process.  But people do buy, in large quantities (hence the sale of the sacks) because many of the things aren't available in the north, or are very expensive due to the climate.  Imagine waiting along side the train tracks at three or four in the morning in order to bring home probably less than one dollar.  Also at every stop, and in every village you pass people line up to wave like the daily train is some new phenomenon.  Finally, I spent the last two hours standing to allow another young mother to sit with two of her children, one of whom slept with her head in Beth's lap most of the way.  Turns out they were going to the hospital in Ngaoundere because one of the kids was sick.
(That was how I spent my birthday.)
We began class again this morning, less one person than what we started with.  Jean-Marc left Kribi a few days before the rest of us, in spite of being warned against it.  He was one of those Jonas was planning to send home, but with him gone so are many of the 'problems', so the others were allowed to stay.   It's not the same, there are still some tensions, but we're hoping to get back on track, and that the remainder of the time goes well...