From the rising of the sun...

Don't know what happened w/this post, but apparently copy and paste moved some things around. Good luck...
It’s noisy here in the morning.  Not what we hear at home and tune out (though I am getting used to it here, as well), but the sounds of suburban Africa waking up.  I’m up every morning well before sunrise, and most mornings I go outside for my ‘quiet time’.  It starts with the roosters, no the dogs really, they go all night, but really pick up with the roosters, then the goats.  Somewhere nearby there is a donkey, too, because I hear it every morning, though I’ve yet to see it.  The birds, including ducks do their part also, then the noises of humans begin.  The prayers of the mosques, gates opening and closing, motos in the distance, footsteps, singing…  It brings to mind verses in the Bible about all creation singing his praises.  Even at our home in Berthoud where the sounds are different, the noises of our activity become the praises of His creation.

The sunrises aren’t much to talk about though.  There is a constant haze in the air, dust actually.  Visibility is very limited, and instead of seeing the sun rise the sky just grows lighter until the sun can be many other places,
 Cameroonian women are much more liberated, but because of the cultural roles they still adhere to it doesn’t always feel like it. Because here the ‘traditional’ role of a woman requires so much more time and work. There are none of the ‘modern conveniences’ we are used to, everything is done by hand.  For example, Rebecca feels blessed to have her kitchen with a two burner propane stove and a sink, because it is the exception, but she still spends hours there every day just preparing meals.  The thing that really stands out today though is the clothes.  Every year there is special fabric printed to commemorate the day, and people buy it to make outfits of their own, or by them ready made.  They are everywhere, and yet rarely do two look alike.  I did end up in town, and again was without the camera.

The reason I was in town was to go to the home of the interpreter we’ve had in class the last two weeks, where we’d been invited to dinner.  He lives in a poorer section of the city, which makes where we’re staying and life at home more appreciated.  It’s always a treat to go to people’s homes and see new areas.

The reason Beth didn’t go was that she’s still very sick.  We thought it was heat sickness from yesterday, but it’s just as bad today, and some are thinking malaria.   I went to a pharmacy for malaria medicine as well as something they use here for aches and fever, we’ll see if it helps.  Please pray for her quick recovery.  There is no escaping the heat, so no relief there, but she was able to eat a boiled egg and a little fruit this evening.  There’s no doubt the change in diet and eating patterns have probably contributed, but the important thing now is she regain her strength and feel better.

Update:  We lost internet over the weekend before this got posted.  Beth is doing much better.  Still needs to gain more strength, but way better than the weekend.

made out once it’s well above the horizon.  That dust covers everything, and instead of blowing it out, the wind tends to stir it up and make it worse.  Yesterday when we went to the YWAM property I realized that the area isn’t all flat like I’d supposed.  There are actually some small mountains and other geological features very close (think Colorado front range cities to the foothills close) which we hadn’t seen before.

Today is International Day of the Woman, and it is celebrated in a big way in Cameroon.  Parades, parties, and women asserting themselves more than most men like apparently.  I think that compared to

Around sunrise.  The trees are alive but apparently save their leaves until rainy season.

what they're like up close

Week 4

We’ve had another interesting week.  It seems we’re trying to stick to the schedule a little more, although from a western perspective there is still a long way to go with that.  We’re still on ‘Africa time’. Jonas is aware of it, but it is a challenge for him to stick to our schedule.  It has created some uncomfortable moments…

It appears that we have created the expectation that we will go to market with Rebecca every Tuesday.  We don’t mind, and she definitely needs help carrying everything which she prepares throughout the week.  No one else has stepped up, even when asked, so I guess it will continue.  Some of the boys never leave, except to maybe go to a little store about a block away, or on to go on the weekly trip to church.  I would think they would want a change of scenery.

Speaking of church:  Four Sundays, four churches, each a little different, but like at home, many similarities.  (Though we all like to think not.)  I actually like visiting different churches, here and there, to see how people are responding to God.  Last weekend was the biggest one we’ve been to so far, and the people seemed to be a little more ‘prosperous’ than at the others.  Again, regardless of the denomination, church is livelier here, and if you think you’re going home after one, or even two hours, think again. 

In the 1990’s YWAM acquired a piece of property on the north side of town, but it was never developed.  In fact, until Jonas and Rebecca came in 2008 (they were called crazy for doing so) there hadn’t been a YWAM presence here since shortly after they got the property.  Today we made a SWAT call to the property.  It is in a predominantly Muslim area, and some are trying to claim it for themselves.  Jonas and Rebecca have a vision for, and are waiting on God to go to Kribe, a city on the coast, but I believe there is someone with similar vision for this area who God will bring here to develop a new YWAM base.

It continues to heat up and the walk to the property caught up with Beth, and now she is recovering from dehydration.  I had an incident last week, so together we will take these as warnings and be more careful.  Please continue to hold us up in prayer as this will be an ongoing challenge.

Three meters this time, please.

meal time

at the YWAM property, under the only tree (which is on the edge of the parcel and 'belongs to the government'

in church

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