Guilty pleasures

We're getting the break we've been looking forward to.  Two nights away from the group to celebrate our 30 years of marriage.  Our anniversary is actually on the 23d, but since we'll be leaving Kribi at the end of the end of the week for the return to Garoua, we wanted to take advantage of the setting.  It's been a wonderful respite, in a nice hotel, on a nice beach, no agenda, and relaxation.  And privacy, for four months we've been in people's homes and places where there just hasn't been an opportunity to have real privacy.
The hotel is nice, not a Sandals or one of the other nicer Caribbean resorts, and very expensive by Cameroonian standards.   It's apparently built and owned by Europeans and caters to them as well, but since the European 'holidays' haven't really started it's not crowded.  In fact, of the six couples that I know to be staying here now, two are older Europeans, three are from the U.S., us and two young couples, and the last is young french speaking girl with her African boyfriend.  The restaraunt is expensive, too, especially since we've been trying to live like the locals.  Olive Garden prices are outrageous here, but I'd say that's about what we're paying.  So we're 'splurging', probably to the chagrin of many, and enjoying every minute.
The outreach phase of training is all but over.  Really, we are here in Kribi more for the radio project than for our training, but Jonas tried to integrate the two.  He actually hasn't been very successful, as the radio project has consumed much more of his time and energy than he, or anyone else had anticipated.  It has affected our entire outreach, and unfortunately the lack of leadership wasn't something most of the 'boys' were ready for.  All of us, including Jonas, have been frustrated, and his absence has resulted in (my opinion) too much freedom.  With that, their lack of initiative, and disrespect for Sampson, things have not gone well the last few weeks.  So, unless something changes in the next few days, the end result is that some of the 'boys' won't be completing the training.  According to what we've been told, upon arrival in Yaounde, they'll be informed that for them the training is over and they won't be continuing to Garoua.  We have mixed feelings, but hope there is a change of heart before then.  Please pray for the situation.

The church in the fishing village, woman on my right is the pastor.

Part of the reason for the delay of our 'anniversary celebration' were some things we were requested to participate in.  We were given the option to say no, but feel that our part on the team is still the first priority, and especially in light of what I just wrote about, want to set an example.  The host church had a women's retreat last week and Beth and I were each asked to 'preach' a message, and I was asked to 'preach' in another church on Sunday.  Also there were some things we were asked to say regarding the radio project, including dispelling the rumor of the rich white couple from the rich church in the U.S. who were funding the project.  We felt that was important, as, in order for it to succeed the project will require investment and ownership of those running it.  All of the messages seemed to have gone well.  The church I spoke in on Sunday was in a small room in a small fishing village a ways up the coast from Kribi itself.  Fourteen or fifteen people including Jonas, Rebecca, Beth and me, but for me one of the best services I've been in yet.  I'd been feeling burned out and frustated with church here, ten services in fourteen days with, from my perspective little result, but this group had a sincerity and enthusiasm which reenergized me.  Since we had other obligations we had to leave almost immediately after church, otherwise I would like to have explored the fishing village some.
Again, we'll leave here for the return to Garoua at the end of the week.  Beth will probably leave Thursday with Rebecca in order to visit Paolo and Claire, and the rest will leave on Friday.  Four or five hours to Yaounde by bus, then the 24 or so back to Garoua.  We'll ride the train again, due to safety and security concerns.  Again, we've never felt unsafe, but because of the instability in the region, travel isn't easy.  In fact we're told that as Americans we'll not be able to go many places we'd hoped to, including certain roads, and the national parks.  I guess it's just not meant to be.  We met a girl here at the hotel who is with the Peace Corps, and they've completely pulled out of the north parts of Cameroon.  I guess we'll just have to come back later in order to see more...

Beth's turn to preach, w/Stephan as interpreter.

In the fishing village after church

The 'falls' near our hotel from across a small bay

Irony

Here's some irony:  Since our arrival we have never really felt clean,  clean is another of those relative things I previously wrote about.  To us, clean here really means less sweaty, less gritty, less dirty, but not really clean.  We've also found ourselves in some very unsanitary environments, especially while on outreach.  It's nothing to slosh through nasty water, use gross showers and toilets, touch and hold soiled children, and who knows how many opportunities for germ exposure.  But it comes with the territory and it hasn't really bothered us.  We've trusted in God's protection that so many are praying for, and we've had it.  Save for the expected occasional stomach disorder and the colds we each had in Yaounde, we've remained healthy.  Last week after the swim in the ocean, I told Beth it was as clean as I've felt in four months.  I may have felt clean, but because of it I've got ear infections in both ears.

(At least that's what I suspected when finally going to the hospital today to have it checked out.  That's what the doctor there diagnosed as well, after asking a few questions about the pain, and pulling on the earlobe of the ear which I can still hear out of, barely.  A nurse checked my blood pressure, too, which is good I'm happy to say.  I now may have an idea about Obamacare, or nationalized medicine.  There seemed to be a lot of people waiting to be seen, so we went to where we were directed to check in, I think.  Since the people at that desk didn't speak english, they called someone who did.  I was directed to go buy my medical record booklet, then followed the english speaking man to his office.  Turns out he was the doctor who made the diagnosis and wrote the prescription for the meds I'm to take.  I'm pretty sure I was placed ahead of every one else who was waiting (white, english speaking, probably?),  but it was pretty quick if that's any consolation.  Record book; 500f,  consultation; 2000f, medicine at the pharmacy: 6500f.  I'm into this medical program for about $18.50.  What's not to like about nationalized medicine?)
Beth and I will celebrate our 30th anniversary this month, so we've decided to treat ourselves to a few nights in one of the local hotels next weekend.  We've walked to a few (we do a lot of walking), and today we rode a motorbike to a few others outside of town (One of the few times we've felt ripped off, the moto driver charged too much.  One of those keep it in perspective things, though.).  During our walk on Saturday I had seen a bus go by with 'westerners'.  When we later saw it parked at a hotel we went in and checked it out.  Turns out it was a group of students from a college in Pennsylvania in Cameroon for summer studies.  Our ten minute conversation was the first we've had with native English speakers since arriving, and it was very refreshing.  The first time carrying on a conversation that didn't feel like things were lost in translation, or misunderstanding.  Another thing we've seen for the first time in four months in those hotels is toilet seats, those might take some getting used to again.

100 year old barn?  Nah, four year old church.  The main one...

Where the fishermen come in with their catch everyday.

Then the fish are put in piles by type on these slabs and sold.  Some auctioned, some sold by the fish or weight.

Joel Osteen look out...

Cause I've got them hooked.

Our program here hasn't been much of a program at all.  Jonas has been preoccupied with the radio project and family matters, so hasn't been here much of the time, or dealing with those things when he has been.  The church is supposedly arranging appointments for us to meet with individuals and families, but we've yet to have one.  We've been told several times to wait at the house where we're staying, someone will come to get us.  We've waited, no one's come.  This morning we were told we need to ask the woman of the house, she has several lined up.  Africa time, I'm not sure, but communication breakdown for sure.
Another example of how communication is working for us:  Our last week here is to participate in a conference put on by the man from France who is donating the radio equipment and programming.  So part of what we're supposed to do is look for opportunity to promote the conference, including in churches.  Last week Beth and I were told we would visit several churches on Sunday (yesterday) to speak about it.  By the end of the week that had changed several times, but that was still plan A.  Plan B was that I would be preaching in the church which is hosting us.  Plan C was we'd still visit other churches, but I might be preaching in one of them, if not I would still preach in this church.  Plan D was that there was already a speaker with a program concluding in this church, but 'the apostle' would still bring us to the other churches, or I would preach in one of his other (small) churches.  That was how it was on Friday afternoon when Jonas left for Yaounde to take care of more radio business, with the promise of returning Saturday to finalize the plan.  On Saturday night we asked Sampson (our staff member in training who is having to carry too much responsibility) when Jonas would return to which the response was "Monday night, or Tuesday".  When I asked if I was still to preach on Sunday, he knew nothing about it, so he called Jonas.  Yes, I was still to preach, "'the apostle' will take you in the morning".  I said:  "Okay, we'll be ready at 8:30, but now Stephan will have to go with us to translate".
Sunday morning we had finished breakfast a little after eight and were headed back to 'the apostle's' house to get ready.  As we were leaving his 11 year old son arrived and said something which was translated to us as something like 'they are wondering where you are'.  We told Stephan we would be ready at 8:30, meet us at the house.  We got ready, Stephan showed up at 8:45 and asked 'what is the program?'  We told him we'd been ready, but hadn't seen 'the apostle', but had heard him coughing.  Stephan asked his wife where 'the apostle' was, but was told he was very sick, and  wouldn't be going anywhere.  So we returned to the church thinking that plan E, no plan, was in place and we would attend church there.  No, 'the apostle's' son was waiting to walk with us to the other church, and we were late, so off we went.  Me, Beth, Stephan, 'the apostle's' son, one of his friends, and then a 15 year girl we met on the way.
After a brisk 20 minute walk we arrived to find the church, a small house in muddy compound of several others, locked.  A neighbor let us in, and after a few minutes the six of us started 'church'.  I decided I wouldn't 'preach' the message I'd prepared (my idea of preaching and theirs are not the same), but rather we'd just have a discussion group.  A few minutes before ten, just after we'd arranged ourselves into the discussion group another man showed up and explained that church there didn't start until ten, Sunday school started at nine.  Soon another man showed up, so we started 'church' again.  I still didn't 'preach', but I stood at the podium and gave my take on a passage of scripture.  We were hardly distracted by the people using the compound pit toilet just outside the door, or the curious naked children who would come to the door, or the rain, or the conversations being held outside, either.  I'm sure all the big time preachers (which I aspire to be one day) got their start like this...

Welcome to Kribi

We have arrived in Kribi.  It's not your 'typical' coastal resort town.  It's on the coast, there is a beach, the water is nice for swimming, there are restaraunts, there are hotels, but we are in Africa.  The restaraunts and businesses are typical of everything we've seen so far, and the hotels we've seen seem to vary from sketchy to nice, but are located amongst all of the other residences or businesses.  Not complaining, just saying...  The trip here was uneventful, another four hours with 32 passengers in a bus built for 20.  That horse is dead, so I won't kick it anymore, either.
We are staying in the home of a pastor or apostle of the church, not sure yet about the relationship.  It's a large family of more than one generation. Beth and I are staying in a room which we think is designated for visitors.  Two bunkbeds, it's own shower; which means a space with a drain and buckets of water from the well.  We come and go as we please, and interaction with the family has been minimal, and it seems to be working okay.  The beds are the most comfortable we've slept in since arriving in Cameroon, too.
Except for the lizards, birds, rats, and mice, we have seen little wildlife.  From my limited vantage points within the vans we've travelled in, there is some very lush forest, and beautiful scenery.  I'd love to see more, and we're hoping to after the training is over, as we have over a week before our flight home.  We have seen a few hunters selling 'bush meat', small animals from the forests, as we've travelled, so I know there is much more to see.  We may have an opportunity to go to a remote place in the jungle from here, but it will require some details to be worked out, including travel money.  There was one exception to the wildlife sightings on our last morning in Yaounde, though:  Sampson and I were getting water from the well (a deep one), and on one of the retrievals the bucket came up with a snake in it.  It was bright green, about two feet long, and didn't stick around long enough to give it's name.  But as I reached for it I quickly learned how Sampson feels about snakes; not too good.
We haven't yet established a routine for our time here.  A big part of our focus is to promote a conference for the radio project which will happen our last week here.  The Frenchman who is donating the programming is flying in to conduct a conference for local churches, as well as a seminar for people interested in working in radio.  To get the station up and running requires a lot of legwork which Jonas has been doing for the last month.  None of it can be accomplished by phone or internet, so he has had to do a lot of travelling, including another trip to Yaounde tomorrow.  There is still need for money to complete the project as well...
When Jonas returns at the end of the week Rebecca will be with him.  Things have gotten uncomfortable in Garoua, and she's decided not to keep the kids there any longer.  The kids will stay with their grandmother while she comes here.  It's their plan for she and Jonas to find a place to live while they're here.  Our group will return to Garoua in mid June to finish the school, but it hasn't been decided if Paulo and Claire will go back again.  Flexibility and adapting, it's part of YWAM and Africa.

Beth and some local children learning each other's language while waiting for class to start.  (During 'Africa time'.)

In Yaounde where water flowed from a pipe providing fresh water for a large area.  Most have wells close to their homes, but this is where they were getting their drinking water, and some were bathing and doing laundry, as well.

The fishing operation is interesting to watch:  Row the boat out about 500 yards, throw out the net, bring the ends back, then start pulling it to shore.  Gather and sort the fish.  Repeat.

Stephan (on my left) can swim, the others were gathering their courage.

Africa Time

On the first day of class Jonas made a statement something like this: "Here in Africa, we have a problem with time.  When we say something will happen at a certain time, it almost never does.  It is a real problem."  It is something we've heard many times before and since.  It's called 'Africa Time', a concept (or reality) I have a difficult time accepting.  Jonas went on to say that in DTS it would be different, that we would abide by the schedule, and that it was something very important to him.  Many others have made similar statements, but it's apparently more difficult than we think.  Some examples of Africa Time:
We arrived in Cameroon just after midnight on Feb 6 and had a flight scheduled to Garoua on Cam-Air, the national airline, for 10:45 that morning.  We returned to the airport around nine to be told that the flight was leaving at five, and to return at three.  I called Jonas to advise him of the delay, and that we would be arriving around eight p.m.  When we returned, and after a lengthy delay before being allowed to check in, we went to the gate.  The first announcement (no PA system, here) came sometime around six of the pending arrival of our plane, with actual boarding about an hour later.  We arrived Garoua near ten p.m.  A.T.
On day one of DTS we were given a schedule which included times for activities for each day of the week.  It is based on the YWAM DTS outline, but locally adapted, and of course 'we can be flexible, but we will stay with it...'  From that day onward there wasn't a day where we stayed with the schedule.  I cannot tell you how many times we have showed up prepared for something either scheduled, or because we're told to, only to wait for a long while for it to begin or be told it's not happening.  A.T.
We've gone to church nearly every Sunday we've been here.  Every one has started at nine: 'Be ready before nine."  In Garou we never left the house before nine thirty, and we still usually arrived before most people.  In Kye-Ossi, since we weren't at the mercy of the rest of the group, and we were staying on church property we could arrive 'on time', we did.  The chairs weren't set up, some of the choir might be there practicing, the pastors weren't there, or if they were they would leave, then arrive an hour or more later.  It was similar in Ambam, and I think in every service we've been in we've heard about the importance of being on time.  A.T.
This week is a lecture week, and because of the holiday our class didn't begin until Wednesday.  On Monday night we were told class would be from nine a.m until two p.m.  Here we are staying in two places; four of us here in the Pastor's house, the others several blocks away in the church.  On Wednesday morning the other group showed up here around seven instead of the 'scheduled' eight o'clock, 'because class was going to start at eight, and we need breakfast'.  So at about 9:15, after breakfast we headed to the church.  The lecturer arrived at 10:30.  Same for yesterday, though class was scheduled for nine.  Today class was again scheduled at nine, as Beth and I were arriving shortly thereafter (the first), we passed the lecturer who said he would return quickly.  (We were subsequently told he needed to print something.)  A little after eleven he called to say he wouldn't make it back, so class is rescheduled at three, but only til 4:30 since there is a meeting in the church at five.  A.T.
 Lord, help me change the things I can, and accept the things I can't.  A.A. and now A.T.

one of the few pictures of the whole team, getting  ready to leave Ambam

Yaounde

We didn't really finish Ambam on a high note, but nothing serious.  The water went out sometime Thursday night, so by Saturday morning things were getting unsettled.  We had run out of buckets, and the bathroom situation was not pleasant.  Everyone seemed content to wait for it to return, but I guilted them into going with me to the well which was about 1/4 mile away to carry water back in 20 litre jugs.  The African way...  That allowed us to wash dishes, flush, and me to wash some clothes.  By three pm there still was no water, so I made another trip to get more so that Beth and I could 'shower'.  After I had done mine, and Beth was doing hers, the water came back on.   Good things come to those who wait right.  My biggest challenge in Africa will always be patience, and adjusting to 'Africa time'.  That night we were supposed to show another film, but since power was out we had to use a generator.  After much delay in getting fuel (I finally bought it from a street vendor), the generator wouldn't start and became flooded.  It took a long time and much fiddling before someone came to pull the plug, then get it started.  By that time it was well past dark, and many waited patiently, then the speakers wouldn't work.  After over an hour of messing with the amp and connections, many phone calls, people supposedly in the know coming and going, we decided to cancel.  Turns out the amp was connected to the 110v outlet vs the 220v outlet as required...
I have been told several times now I am an African.  It's a compliment, and it's because of my attempts to adapt and try to do things their way.  But until I can climb on one of the vans with 18 others and go to sleep, I won't consider myself to be African.  It was another four hour ride here to Yaounde; very uncomfortable for everyone, but seemingly taken in stride by the citizens.  Even the heated discussions about seats and luggage seem to quickly dissipate, and once moving many quickly fall asleep.  Including the grandmother (or mother, maybe) next to me.  The baby was getting tired and fussy as we were leaving, so as she does so often Beth took the child.  The woman immediately fell asleep, the baby quickly did as well, and both stayed that way to their destination nearly two hours later.  The vans are Toyotas, made for 10, licensed for 14 in Uganda, and adapted for 19 here.  Visualize sitting on one four back seats of a midsize, extended cab pickup.  Hard, narrow, horizontal bench, and nearly vertical back with no headrests.  Your knees are fighting the framework of the seat in front of you, and it is physically impossible to sit shoulder to shoulder between the side windows, so you stagger your bodies to fill the space.  Of course luggage is piled high on top.  So as I ride along I do a lot of thinking, empathizing, and figuring.  One question I haven't figured the answer to:  Are you more likely to roll over in an overloaded, top heavy vehicle whose shocks are already bottomed out, or one that still has some shock travel remaining?
We will spend this week in Yaounde, the capital, then on to Kribi.  This week we'll have another lecture topic instead of outreach ministry.  We arrived Sunday evening, and yesterday and today are national holidays.  All government offices and many businesses are closed, and it's difficult to travel through town due to road closures for the (lengthy) parade.  We did go yesterday to hit the ATM and then visit one of Jonas' friends, but it was after the festivities.  This morning we accompanied the pastor who's home we're staying in to a river baptism.  Two young ladies, one of whom had dreamed of being baptized in a nearby river 'and there were white people there.'  It was one of the many acts of faith we've seen which powerfully and emotionally move me.  The home we're staying in is very comfortable physically and socially.  We even got to christen the new toilet yesterday after completing the enclosure.  The old one was full, and a new one had recently been dug, and the cement top is dry.  It was a matter of transferring a few boards and corrugated metal from the old to the new, and walla (a commonly used term here).
Please be praying for the safety and stability of the region and country.  We were told yesterday it's no longer safe to return north by the highway (our intended route), as it runs along the Central African Republic and there have been some bus hijackings recently.  Also, yesterday Boko Haram, the muslim terrorist group kidnapped three children from a school in Garoua.  It was from the muslim school next to the one Paulo and Claire attend, and the government is trying to prevent details from becoming public.  Obviously, Jonas and Rebecca are very concerned as are many others.  I still don't fear for our safety, we serve the Mighty God, but we will use wisdom.

the child who slept on our laps for over an hour and a half

One of the many furniture makers shops of Ambam, specializing in beds for both short and long term use.  He made them just behind and below the showroom.

a sample of some of the wood being used

Beth's birthday celebration; bread, real butter, a doughnut, and a coke.

More Ambam

There is a different spirit here in Ambam, and our role has been a little different as well.  We have been doing evangelism outreach, and we have seen several people accept Christ.  But we have also met many Christians, and we have spent much of our time encouraging and being encouraged.  We have focused on one residential section, or quarter as they call them here.  We are encouraging both new believers and those who already are Christians to be united in the common message of the gospel and share what all of us have in common, Jesus.  That has been a personal calling of mine for awhile now, at home as well as here, or Uganda, or wherever I am.  I believe that it's time we as Christians put aside our differences, quit trying to convert one another, and instead share Christ's love.
We got to exerience a bit of the cultural political system this week.  As part of our outreach ministry we planned to show a film in a 'public' place, the side of someone's bar where there is enough room to set up some speakers and chairs.  Of course this requires permission from the owner, but it also requires it from the 'chief' of the quarter.  I'm not sure what entitles someone to become the chief, but in this case it is an inherited position passed down from his dead father.  Any way somehow the project became mine, so Beth and I went along to meet him.  Basically he's a prosperous man living in a nice house who received us, made small talk, then granted permission for us to show the film.  Complete with a form with an official stamp of approval.  Apparently we'll encounter more of this, particularly in Kribi where we'll bring gifts to the 'chief' when presenting the radio project.  I wonder if that one will look like the chiefs of the movies, because this one didn't...
Since we're leaving in two days I decided to wash our sheets this morning, figuring the others would do theirs­­­ tomorrow and there's very little clothesline available.  It rained most of the night, but since every other day it has cleared up in the morning I figured it would as well.  It's ­­­­­­­1 pm and still raining hard...  Also, does anyone know where the pied piper resides these days?  Somehow, in spite of the sanitary conditions, rats seem to be thriving here.  Most of our nights in Kye-Ossi we heard them in the walls and ceilings, and there's been at least one who's joined us in our room here as well.  I think they're eating the big roaches though, so we don't want to complain...

door to door visits

film projection w/a full moon rise...

electricity or water?

Personally, under the circumstances I choose water.  With nine of us sharing the bathroom I'd rather be able to flush the toilet than see it, especially since there no outside hole as an option.  Actually it's not like Garoua, but it seems the water is shut off for a period each day, and we've yet to have a day without losing electricity.  We've learned to have buckets full of water just in case, and most of us have flashlights, or phones w/lights, so we manage just fine when the power is off.  There is a TV here which some of the 'boys' will watch whenever given the chance, so I'm sure they would choose electricity...
We have developed a routine for this town which seems to be working well for everyone.  We go out twice a day making contact with various people in various places.  Some were prearranged, some are follow ups, and many are new contacts we make each time we venture out.  We usually introduce ourselves, explain our mission, and introduce the gospel.  We usually try to set up follow up appointments with those who are interested.  Most welcome us, some eagerly, some hesitantly, but we are nearly always invited into homes or businesses, except where there is no room.  In those cases, we will stand or sit outside and share.  Often people will see us talking to others, become curious, then invite us to speak with them as well.  Being the only whites in town usually draws attention, as well, and it is something we can use to begin conversations that might not otherwise happen.  Such was the case this morning at a drinking establishment, (a couple of benches under a corrugated metal canopy where homemade 'wine' was being shared), where those gathered invited us to come and share.  We see all these encounters as divine appointments and have seen many changed lives because of them.  I also always enjoy the opportunities to experience a bit of the way many are living.
The town itself is different than Kye-ossi.  It feels less agressive, with people going about their business and getting on with their lives.  Of course we hear the shouting, the mosques, and various other loud sounds which are so much a part of life here.  And we are often solicited to buy something or ride a moto, but that comes with the territory.  It seems a local industry is wood working, and there are many furniture makers turning out pieces that, because of the wood being used, are very beautiful.  I can't believe there is enough demand here for the amount being produced, so most of it must be being transported and sold elsewhere.  It has also rained every day we've been here, sometimes heavily for several hours, so mud is a constant challenge.  It has gotten the better of us a few times on the steeper paths.  I'm amazed how easily people get around, mostly in flip flops or sandals of some sort.  Also how the motos navigate some of the 'roads' amazes me, and I don't plan to be on one in those areas.  As in Kye-ossi, we've been able to find a few treats sold on the street or shops that we will occasionally treat ourselves to.  There is also a nice bakery which has several good looking things for sale.  We took the team there the other night as it was Abel's birthday, and treated everyone to something.  Maybe we've lost some of our sweet tooth, but for the most part the treats were better looking than tasting.  We also still have bread every morning as part of our breakfast, but it is nowhere near as good as what we had in Kye-ossi.  I'm not sure I'll ever have have bread as enjoyable as that... Also, I had hoped to get my haircut at the Obama barbery while here, but since it burned down with two other businesses last night, I guess that won't happen.

Would you buy what these guys are selling?

That's a four or five foot lizard in her right hand.  Bush meat...

Most know, but our son, Bryan, arrived in Uganda last week for a work he is involved with there.  He also has a blog:  hugsfrombryan.blogspot.com  We encourage you to read that as well...