week 3

It’s been a good week here.  Some good discussions in class, and everyone getting to know one another better.  The young men who are our fellow students all have a passion for God, and the desire to learn all they can.  They really know the Bible, probably better than I, but by the questions they ask it seems they are more interested in details rather than ‘spiritual truths’.  (Was Jesus crucified naked?, Will we have the same body in heaven?, What is the proper way to baptize, sprinkling or immersion? Etc)  One thing which has come often is the reality of sorcery, witchcraft, and occultism which continue to overshadow this continent.  Everyone here can relate experiences and it is a constant battle which Christians and non-Christians here face.

Tomorrow is March, so it’s supposed to start getting hot.  We haven’t tracked the temperatures, but has been told it’s been over 105 nearly every day.  It’s a dry heat, though, and it cools to the 80’s overnight, so we’re good with it.  We have noticed it feeling a little hotter each day, but the worst is the early afternoon which is why most people sieste.  Though since Beth and I rarely have napped we notice everything seems to be open normally.  Garoua actually is mostly laid out in a grid and most of the ‘streets’ have trees planted along them.  We are blessed to have two of those trees just outside the wall which surrounds this and adjacent homes, and we have spent the worst part of most afternoons under those trees.  It’s the most comfortable place we’ve found, much better than inside the house which never cools down.  The kitchen is the worst…  We’ve had several power outages while here, and have found ourselves eating and doing dishes by flashlight and candlelight.  It also has made us aware that though our room never cools down, without the fan it is much worse.  The refrigerator has also failed, so Rebecca has had to be more creative with what she is cooking, and all of our drinking is room (kitchen) temperature.  Actually goes down easy, but not soothing.  We knew all this coming here, and I still hope I never have to shovel snow again…

It’s also becoming more apparent how good we have it compared to so many.  As we’ve walked around we’ve come to many villages* which are very, very poor.  They are living very close together in ramshackle housing, cooking outside over fires, using outdoor latrines, etc.  I feel very safe walking through these places, but am very aware of how out of place I am. 

Beth and I are also more confident about our ability to get around, and went into town for the first time today.  Still have yet to find anyone able to speak English, and we certainly haven’t learned enough French to communicate (bon jour doesn’t get you very far) but we can point and hand over money which seems to work.  We also are familiar with where we live, so we can point it out to the moto drivers.

*Not what I’ve always visualized in my head, small communities scattered throughout the area which are typical of how most Africans live.

making cous cous

cleaning peanuts by flashlight...

.taken w/a flash

Perspectives

what I've seen...

What Paolo sees.

                                         Father, give me the eyes to see as you see.  Amen

A shelf for Rebecca

Please understand:  When I describe a situation or the way things are done here, it is not to be condescending, critical, to make fun of, or even elicit sympathy.  It is so that those who are reading this can have an understanding of some of the cultural differences, and hopefully gain some insight into the challenges others are faced with.

As you read this and other posts, you may also find it helpful to understand the currency.  Here we use Cameroon francs, or cfa.  The exchange rate is about 485 cfa to the dollar, to keep the math simple we figure 500.  The denomination of the bills are 10000, 5000, 2000, 1000, and 500, and the coins I’ve seen are 500, 200, 100, 50, and 25.

I didn’t bring any tools on this trip.  My though was ‘I am here for training, so I won’t need them.’  (And with the six pairs of shoes, 14 pair of underwear, many pairs of socks, slacks, dress shirts, ties, black sport coat (he said in an email ‘bring clothes for sport’, I had to be sure), jeans, t-shirts, three hats, a power strip and extension cord, games, etc.  There just wasn’t room.)  Beth wanted to bring a multitool, but we ran out of time, so we brought a Chinese army knife instead.  It’s like a Swiss army knife, but it’s dull, and when you use it everything on it loosens up.  Never the less, with it I have reversed the hinges on the refrigerator door, repaired the sink drain*, and shaved our laundry soap, among other things.

So Rebecca wanted a shelf to help organize her kitchen and free up the four feet of counter space used to dry and store all the dishes and cutlery, cut vegetables, boil water in the electric kettle, etc.  A project right up my alley, so I asked Jonas if he had a hammer and saw.  “I have a hammer, but not a saw, but it is no problem; you just take your measurements to the place where you buy the wood, and they will cut it for you there.” he replied.  Okay, I have to have a detailed plan, not my style, but I drew one up and made a list of materials.  We got on the motorbike he borrowed from a friend to get the wood.  I didn’t bring the camera, so I will describe it the best I can:

We arrived at the wood seller’s where planks are neatly stacked under a corrugated metal roof.  The wood is cut very rough and only available in six meter lengths.  (Yes, six meters, over 19-1/2 feet for each board.)  I chose four pieces; a ‘1x12’, a ‘1x4’, and two pieces that approximated ‘2x3’s.  12,000 cfa.  Jonas had also told me “they have a machine to make it very smooth.”  Turns out that machine was somewhere else, and that I would have to pay someone to take it there.  The boards were made ready for transport, and I turned to buy some nails.  ½ kg nails, 300 cfa.  When I turned back the wood was gone and we got on the motorbike to follow it to the machine.  We soon caught up to the wood, not on a cart as I expected, but on the head of a man carrying it, straining under its weight and sweating profusely.  It clack, clacked the approximately five blocks, including through a busy traffic circle, to the place where the machine for smoothing was.  That place, in what appeared to a former barnyard; about an acre with three sides consisting of covered ‘stalls’, now mostly filled with cars in various states of disrepair, save for the corner where the ‘mill works’ was.  Our guy carried the wood there, and I paid him.  500 cfa.  The mill works consisted of a ‘table saw’, and, as we soon discovered behind a wall and down an embankment outside, the planer.  The table saw is a 10” blade mounted in the middle of a metal plate welded to a two inch angle iron frame, and driven by an industrial sized motor.  The ‘fence’ was a piece of 2x4 rectangular steel tubing, mounted only to the feed end by a couple of bolts welded together and threaded to the frame of the table to allow adjustment.  The saw never stopped the entire time we were there, but it was sharpened several times, as well as eventually adjusted to make our cuts.  (Sharpening is taking what is left of a metal cut off wheel and holding it to the edge of the blade as it turns to make it sharp again.)  Except for sharpening and our cuts, the saw was continuously being used to make structural ‘2x4’s.  Two guys, barefoot in about 18” of sawdust, feeding those six meter boards through, ripping them down to the smaller dimension.  Meanwhile we heard the planer start up, time to smooth our boards.  The planer is an old industrial model, covered in rust from being outside, with a 14” bed and the drum, pulleys, and belts all exposed.  Thickness adjustment comes by way of prying the bed up, or banging it down and inserting a wedged piece of wood to hold it in place.  The first boards were the smaller ones, running them through till I said it was okay, and they ended up relatively smooth, with two sides nearly parallel, and approximately the same thickness their entire length.  Then it was time for the big board.  I guess he decided he could get one side in one pass, so that’s where he set the bed.  Attempting to feed it from over nineteen feet away he couldn’t get it started, but no worries, there was help nearby.  Between the two of them, they were able to get the board started, but almost immediately it was apparent (to me) they were trying to take too much material.  Push harder.  At this point the guy closest to the machine was leaning and pushing for all he was worth, and I had visions of him slipping and landing his forehead on the drum.  Apparently his partner had similar visions, because he pulled him back further from the machine.  They got help from another guy and, after stopping the drum several times, with smoking belts and pulleys, eventually got the board all the way through.  Albeit with several chunks missing and a few rough spots where the blades weren’t spinning quite fast enough.  The other side was easy; just flip the board and run it through.  Now it to the table saw.  We waited awhile, but after another sharpening and the frequent splash of used motor on the blade for cooling, we had most of one edge off of each board.  Next, cut the boards to length, to the chop saw.  Well, the same guy that ran the planer holding an 18” hand saw, but it’s like a chop saw.  Using the small household tape measure (marked in inches and centimeters, but missing the first 20 cm and the end stop), a square, and my measurements, he laid out the wood for cutting.  The only interruption came when the tape recoiled into its case and had to be disassembled for recovery.  The cuts were made pretty quickly, and his job complete, he was ready for payment.  2500 cfa.   Except, since he couldn’t make change for the 3000 I at first gave him, 2000 became sufficient.  Also, for the nearly 1-1/2 hours we were there one man was carrying those big six meter timbers from a stack in the yard and restacking them near the saw.  With the wood strapped on we were a six foot wide motorbike, but it was an uneventful ride home, and an hour later Rebecca had her shelf.

*Including making two flip flop gaskets:  Finding the sole of a discarded flip flop and cutting out a new drain flange gasket.  The standard way of doing it that Larry and I learned in Uganda.

Jonas' hammer

one week

We have completed our first week of training.  We started one week late, and don’t strictly adhere to ‘the schedule’, but are trusting in God’s timing.  One of the challenges for a westerner in Africa is getting used to ‘Africa Time’.  We tend to be schedule and goal oriented, whereas other cultures are much more social and time isn’t as ‘important’, because relationships take priority over outcomes.  That said, the people we’ve met are aware of ‘Africa Time’ and try to balance it out w/a schedule.  Jonas has mentioned it several times, and this morning was reminding the ‘boys’ of our schedule and its importance.

Speaking of ‘the boys’, let me formally introduce the team:  Jonas, a man of many hats, among them; base director, DTS leader, primary instructor, interpreter, father of Paolo and Claire, and husband to Rebecca.  In addition to her role as wife and mother, Rebecca teaches at a high school three days a week, and does all the cooking.  (Though Beth has spent a lot of time in the kitchen helping.)  Sampson is ‘on staff’, but is going through the school w/us in order that he be able to conduct DTS in the future.  He also works very hard assisting in the kitchen when Rebecca is teaching, and doing other work duties which we all share.  The other students are:  Enoch (Anok) and Stefan from the Garoua area, Oliver and Abel (Ah-bel) brothers from Congo, Jean-Mark from another part of Cameroon, and us.  We all are sharing one home, Jonas and his family have one bedroom and a bathroom, the rest of us share the other bathroom.  We also share the home w/a few large spiders and other insects, and many, many lizards (mostly outside).

I expect to have calluses on my derriere (?), as the furniture is not what we’re used to...  Probably a callused or bruised tailbone from bouncing against the luggage rack of the mototaxis, as well.  When you ride a mototaxi you want to find the drivers who are able to ‘find the line’.  The ones who are able to find the best paths through the deep sandy areas which can grab and dump you, the smoothest hardpack through the rocky areas, and who are able to avoid most of the potholes.

Paolo and Claire washed his tricycle yesterday.  It stands ready, waiting to serve its master when he calls.  Beep, beep…

I'm here, too

So it is my turn to take a stab at posting a blog.   I will start with a request—hehe.  Let me preface my request by saying that we (yes I changed to we) are only asking because we feel like we must give you the opportunity to give.  We are attending DTS with six 20 something young men. They are all lovely, and hungry for God.  Some of them came with only a shirt or two and a pair of flip flops.  Long story short, some of these boys do not have their school fees, much less the fees required for outreach.  YWAM is all about faith and I am sure they are trusting that the money will be here as needed.  I am hoping we can be God’s instrument in assisting with these fees.  Jonas (our director) and his family also live by faith and certainly do not have the money to feed, house, and send on outreach these young men, but by faith, he had them come!  Please do not give because you feel sorry for these boys.  They do not feel sorry for themselves!  They trust God. Give only if you feel like God is directing you.  Thanks.  Y’all are the best!

On a different note—it is hot, but not nearly as hot as it is going to get!  It is incredibly hard to stay focused and awake during class d/t the heat.   The few hours in between classes and eating are mundane, boring if you will.   I spend a lot of time helping Rebecca in the kitchen because I am the only woman---and everyone knows how much I loooovvvveee being in the kitchen.  Especially when it is 20 degrees hotter in there than it is outside—Lord knows it is only by His grace I will survive the HOT season. Hehe.  I actually like helping Rebecca.  She is a bright spot among all these boys!  It is just very hard physical work, and we all know I am kinda whimpy. Haha. But, Praise God, I am getting stronger!  Still looking, however, for the spiritual significance in my daily misery.  Hehe.  Continued prayers appreciated.  God is meeting us here daily by His word, His people, and His sweet, sweet Spirit.  Beth

weekend

Yesterday, while in town, we showed up at Rebecca’s sister’s unannounced.   Everyone loves it when that happens.  Beth got to hold their four month old son (same as Lucy) for two hours while one of the  daughters prepared lunch.  Cous-cous and fish, whole fish.  I thought I was doing well, picking out the bones, and leaving part of the tail and most of the head.  But after the others had finished I realized that what we’d heard about fish heads is true, eat them.  They all did.  It was delicious, so I easily could, and should have.

Today they pumped the septic tank here.  Pump truck is a guy standing in the tank handing buckets to two others who carry them around the house and pour them in the garden area.  Thankful again for all I too often take for granted. 

Congolese finally arrived last night.  They are just two; Oliver and Abel and they are from Congo (Brazilville), not the Democratic Republic of Congo (the bad one).  We went to a small church of their denomination today.  Not as energized as last week, more traditional, but still more lively than most in the US.  It was bilingual as well, French and Fulfulde (the local language).

Internet is still a challenge.  We are paying for byte usage, and we don’t get much, so we are going to closely watch how we use it.  Skype and facetime are important, but will probably use the most of our allowance.  These posts will be less frequent and uploaded from word, and we won’t be checking email and facebook as much. 

A pretty quiet weekend, and training really gets underway tomorrow, so not much else for now.

Happy Valentine's Day

Took another long walk this morning.  Mostly on some roads and established paths, but didn't see much.  Yesterday I went a different direction ending up in a much poorer village.  No electricity or running water, except for the broken pipe at the intersection of two paths from which people were filling their jugs.  The bright side of it is they have access 24/7 while our running water is available from around 8:30 pm to 5:30 am.  I thought most of the people in the area were living like us, but there are a significant number who aren't.

Today I did laundry using the three bucket method.  One wash, and two rinse cycles.  Dryer works well too, first load was nearly dry before the next had completed it's first rinse.  We've decided we will probably do our part to reduce local unemployment.  We'll be hiring someone to do most of our laundry.

For those wondering if it is safe here, please continue to pray.  I am in constant fear:  there are no smoke or CO alarms in the house,  we ride on motorcycle w/o helmets, there are no seat belt laws, there is no FDA to check our food, (the produce is purchased off of mats in the market place!), the margarine is unrefrigerated, and some of the goats have really long horns...

Add caption

Paolo's Tricycle

One of the first things I saw on the night of our arrival was a broken tricycle in the yard.  I didn't give it much thought, figuring it was one of those things who's usefulness was over, and had reached it's final resting place.  Wrong.  Several times a day I've seen Paolo 'take it for a spin'.  No, he can't ride it, it's missing one wheel, and the other two are broken.  They're those hollow plastic ones which are just floating on the axles.  But he does laps around the house with it, or makes patterns in the dirt.  It's still valued, and it's his.  We are valued, and we are His...
Yesterday we went into town, Garoua proper.  It's more orderly here than in Uganda.  Infrastructure seems better, working traffic lights, etc.  No one speaks english, though, so that will be a constant challenge.  We took two of the other students as our interpreters/helpers.  They don't speak english, either, but they got us there and back.  Still no Congolese, two are expected this evening.

Tonight we’ll start class; one hour orientation, syllabus, responsibilities, communication.  This morning we went to the local market with Rebecca.  Seems this is where she does most of her food shopping for the week.  Typical African open air market, I think.  Hundreds of vendors with their wares spread before them.  Nearly everything one needs:  staples, produce, clothes, shoes, cookware, shoes, you name it.  Very crowded, noisy, and colorful.   We walked there, but rode moto taxis back.  Good thing, too, I was losing circulation in my hands, cut off by the ‘handles’ of the bags I was carrying.  Time to learn how to carry things on my head.   Hard to get a feel from the pictures (we try not to offend with the camera), but a very interesting morning.

Embarrassed

First, I had a lengthy descriptive post all typed, but when I changed positions it was all lost.  Frustration of this internet, but hopefully to be resolved soon...But that's not why I'm embarrassed, I'm embarrassed for what we brought:  Four overstuffed large bags (the last two arrived today, bet those around me are glad) filled with clothes and items we definitely won't use.  We could have easily got by w/carry on's and possibly one suitcase, I think.  The other students haven't arrived yet.  Four are coming from DR Congo, and must travel by road thru Central African Republic, which is extremely dangerous right now.  The two boys are in Younde, the capital of Cameroon, but must wait til Wed to obtain their visas as this is Cameroon Youth Week, a national holiday.  The Congolese girls haven't left home yet due to the danger, and it's yet to be seen if they will.  I'll update on the team and the living arrangements once they are established.  Meanwhile we will start DTS tomorrow w/whomever is here.

Gouwa, the way to say Garoua

Language barriers are one of the challenges we'll face.  Native language is Fulfilada (?), official language is French, and English translates to you have more money.  We'll hopefully learn some of the workarounds.  We're at the YWAM base,a large shared house, and our home for the next few months.  Ours and the other 7 DTS students arriving today or tomorrow, as well as our hosts, Jonas, Rebecca, and their children.  They are very nice and have made us feel at home.  We took a walk around the area yesterday,  mostly residences in varying degrees of completion.  It's not very picturesque, kind of what we expected, but there will be time to get out and see other areas.  We are a long way from town, so will have to figure out navigation and transport.  It will be by motorbike (bodas in Uganda) and we'll have to make sure to find drivers who can get us back.  Internet will be a challenge, very slow, so skype and the ipad aren't working.  We experienced 100 degree temperature difference from Denver to here.  Rebecca says she hates the upcoming hot months...

So far, so God

We're in Douala, which is most of the way to our destination, Garoua.  The trip has gone well so far.  We arrived at DIA 2 hours early for the international flt.  Our flt was delayed for an hour, but we were assured there would be enough time to make the connection at ORD.  But this allowed for extra time to visit w/D,G&L, C&E, and K.  When they posted another delay I checked back w/AAL who now said we wouldn't make the ORD connection.  The agent spent a long time working the computer and was able to get us on the on time UAL flt to ORD.  It was the same flt Kailey was on, and we got seated together.  Thanks for the blessing of more time w/her.  Our flts here went well, w/boarding nearly complete at DEN and ORD, and the normal comfortable connection in Istanbul.  Two of our bags didn't make it, probably lost in the AAL-UAL exchange.  Now our flt to Garoua is delayed until the evening, but we're enjoying the sights and sounds where we're at, so it's okay.  In fact there's a wedding outside, so I'm going to wrap this up and go watch.  A big thanks to all who've made our departure special, and apologies that we weren't able to spend more time w/each of you.  More later...