1 month left

I can't believe that I'm in my last month here in Africa. It seems like I was just leaving the States. But so much has happened since then. I've experienced things that I never dreamed of. I thank God for choosing to use me. Because of this experience I've grown in so many ways. I still have a few things that I would like to do before I leave; God willing I will post about them too.

Oceans from the Rain

July and August are defined by the rainy season. Which means it will probably rain at some point in the day; it may be a light drizzle or a torrential downpour. I thought the pace of life was slow before but when the rain comes everything stops. I love sitting on the front porch watching the kids splashing in the tiny rivers that the rain has created. At these times I think of the living water that God has promised us. I pray that just as he is cleansing and watering the earth he is doing the same in the hearts of the Gambians. During the 7 months when there isn’t a drop of rain it’s hard to imagine that there are seeds and roots deep below the earth’s surface. But as the rains come little buds begin to appear and within weeks everything is green and lush. So I am reminded to live in faith that although it seems as if there is no sign of Christ there are seeds that have been planted and are being watered and they will reap a harvest someday!

1 Cor. 13:1-3

If I speak in the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal. If I have the gift of prophesy and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have a faith that can move mountains, but have not love, I am nothing. If I give all I possess to the poor and surrender my body to the flames, but have not love, I gain nothing.

Lord, give me your heart. Let me not be a clanging cymbal. Let me glorify you by the love I show to those around me.

Vacation

Lori and I went on vacation last week. Lots of pool side tanning and eating out. Here are some pics of our week away.

Our first night out. There was a hair dryer in the hotel so we took full advantage of that.

This is the view from our room the only night we stayed at a hotel.

A walk on the beach after breakfast.

The second place we stayed at is run by some catholic sisters. I find it hilarious that they have these men-hating mugs in the kitchen.

Sunset

The colors were amazing

We splurged on Betty Crocker muffins. It turns out they were about $5.

We bought some really good steak to grill at the third place we stayed at. It was a wonderful meal.

We saw an Ohio liscense plate.

And we had to eat at the Cheerz sports bar. Where everybody knows your name!

The rise of feminism in West Africa

Lori and I were invited to attend and bring two local women to the 1st Meeting to Promote Women Entrepreneurs in West Africa. We arrived on the first day to find that this was a much bigger deal than we had anticipated. There were national authorities from West Africa and Europe. Sitting in a room, which I can only describe as my imagination of a press conference, I felt very out of place. There were photographers and cameras everywhere. Headsets and microphones were at every seat for interpretations between English and French. Many of the sessions touched on gender and equity & equal opportunities in order to ensure development in West Africa. At times I found myself thinking as a feminist. The women there were very empowered and strong; they want to be educated and successful. In order for W. Africa to grow and become economically stimulated there must be equal opportunities for men & women. Women play the biggest part for their own growth. They must first start in their own home & family. But in Africa the whole community raises a child so that means the entire village must be supportive and not oppressive as young children are growing. Many times girls are put into the role of cooking and house work and are denied the privilege of education and growth. Even the husband of one of the women we took to the conference was upset because his wife was not home to cook for him for 2 days. We joked with some of the men in the village that in America men cook and clean too, but they are not open to the idea of doing ‘women’s work’- it’s just not done here. This is where the feminist feelings start to rise in me. I find that I’ve taken it for granted being born & raised in America where I’m free to be who I want to be and do what I want without fighting years of cultural oppression and ways of thinking. So where America went through the feminist movement half a century ago it is now alive and growing in West Africa.

And here are the photos from the "press" (if you can call them that)

Missionary Musings

I try to identify the effects of my being here, trying to decide if it was worth taking a year out of ‘my’ life and thousands of dollars from my friends and family. I feel like I’ve somehow cheated the system. Life will continue on here just like it always has but I will go home to my western comforts with a better understanding of who God is and how I want my life to be different. Isn’t that a little unfair? Shouldn’t I leave feeling good about how these people better know God? Shouldn’t I leave with stories of how I saw God work in mysterious and miraculous ways? I find myself comparing myself to friends that have come back from serving with incredible stories and relationships with those they served and I feel like a failure of a missionary in comparison. But God is reminding me that it’s NOT about ME or how I feel or what I did. It’s COMPLETELY about HIM and what he did. Who am I to decide that he hasn’t worked in the lives of those around me? And if he chooses to work in my life in noticeable ways who am I to say that’s unfair?
Lord I do believe; help me overcome my unbelief.

The Toilet Monster

Do you remember when you were a kid and you were scared to go to the bathroom at night because something might come crawling up out of the toilet? Well, at least that was one of my fears as kid. But here in Africa it is a reality that I live with everyday. When squatting over a hole in the dark there’s no telling what will come crawling out. One night as I was returning from the ‘bathroom’ I felt something on my head. It turned out that a huge cockroach had crawled onto my shorts and made its way up to my head. My room mate Lori had an experience with a praying mantis in an undesirable location. There also a few chickens who have apparently found the best place to roost at night is on top of our bathroom wall.

Ghetto-rigged light

Along with our ghetto-rigged AC we now have an overhead light to match. In the market you can buy flashlights that have been rigged with wires for a switch and the LED lights attached to a broken light bulb. Our compound asked us to buy some for them so they can see while sitting on the front porches at night. We decided that this was a request that we would be happy to answer and we bought one for in our house as well.

Relief from Humidity

Now that the rainy season has come so has the humidity that you could cut with a knife. It is just about unbearable to sleep at night. So Lori and I purchased a car battery to run a 12volt fan on to help with this problem. The clamps on the fan are too small to hook on the battery so we wrapped bobby-pins around the connectors to attach the clamps...here is our ghetto-rigged AC.

Weekend Retreat

Now that Gary and Denise have gone back to America Lori and I decided to take a short break to relax. It was also a good excuse to get out of the village during the circumcision ceremony. We stayed at a guest house run by a few Catholic sisters. It was a nice quiet weekend on the coast.

Making personal pan pizzas

Sunset on the Atlantic (yup sunset, not sunrise)

We frequent this pool at a nearby hotel

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Reflections on Female Circumcision

I heard stories about female circumcision in Africa from Clair Good in my training in Harrisburg. I never thought I would encounter it and have to figure out my feelings on it. But here I am in Africa, face to face with it and I’m still trying to wrap my mind around the harsh reality of it.

Growing up in my safe, countryside home in a Western culture, I was taught from a very young age what to protect as private. I knew my mom was protecting me by telling me these things. In Africa when a girl is between the age of 6 and 12 it is time to be ushered into the family with a huge ceremony that the entire community is involved in. Her mother takes her the bush (forest) where the men have constructed a fenced in area. All the other girls her age are there too, along with older girls, young women and the elders. There is loud drumming, clapping, singing and chanting going on, it’s a day of celebration! Oh but not for the little girl, soon she is taken and being held down, one of the women (hopefully one with knowledge of medical practice) is cutting her insides out. The people in her life that she thought she could trust the most, her mother, sisters, grandmother did this to her. For three weeks she’s forced to stay in the bush with no bath. The older women teach her all she will need to know about life. Each night she is carried on someone’s back (piggy-back style) and walked across the village to another house to sleep. There are men dressed in big, fluffy, orange costumes carrying machetes (called the kankorang) who patrol the area and lead the procession between the bush and the house. They are there to ward off any witches and evil spirits that may come to harm the girls during this vulnerable time. The rest of the village must be in their houses from 7pm to 7am or the kankorang will come and get you. Throughout the night the kankorangs will patrol the village and come bang on doors or anything else in the compound. Some people say they’ve seen him fly or jump from the ground to the roof of buildings. At the end of the three weeks there is another huge celebration. The girl is now an accepted member of society. Of course the girl is happy and excited, she survived bush school, she has a role now. She has no idea of the pain and struggle she may have to deal with in years to come.

I hope that someday this village will have other ways to celebrate a child's coming of age. I pray that girls will not have to suffer through this.

Monogomy? You must be joking.

I yell goodnight to families sitting around a fire on a cool evening in December. As I reach my compound I find our landlord and his wife chatting by the fire. They look so cute and in love. A few months later, it’s now May. Our landlord’s wife had a baby in February but he has been gone working in the city for the past 2 months. I hear commotion outside and look out the window to see what’s going on. I see our landlord has returned. His wife is all dressed up and runs to greet him. Both times I smile to myself and think how great it is to see them so happy. But in the back of my mind I remember that this is his third wife and he has kids older than she is. He has just come back from spending 2 months with his second wife and their nine children. This is certainly not the only man with multiple wives. There are very few men who like the idea of having a friendship marriage with only one woman. I can’t imagine what it must be like to share your husband with another woman. I will be happy to wait for a man that I know loves only me.

No Germs in Africa

Sometimes I forget that I’m in a remote African village… and then I’m reminded by small but significant differences in culture and mindset. I will take the next few entries to attempt to share these stories with you in a way that you can relate with me.

Stepping out my door on my way to work I’m asked to sit down and join my neighbors for some breakfast. To be polite I pull up a stool around the communal bowl of rice pudding. One of the kids runs inside to get a spoon for me and as they return I can see there is evidence of last night’s dinner still on the spoon. They swish it around in a bowl of ‘clean’ water and hand it to me. Of course, in my head I’m thinking “That water hasn’t been filtered and without soap that spoon is still greasy.” But I take the spoon and dig in right beside the two year old who is squatting beside the bowl with no pants and no underwear. And that’s when I’m glad I get to eat with my hands (which have been washed with soap) for lunch.

Life is a giant sandbox for the kids and a giant litter box for both the children and animals here and any child under the age of three can get away with running around with no clothes on. As I walk back into my compound at lunch time all it takes is for one person to say my name and the kids come running from all directions wanting to be picked up and held. I don’t even think about it anymore with the little girls but I will not pick up the little boy if he doesn’t have clothes on, but I think he’s okay with that considering he still cries if he gets too close to the Tubob (white person).

My Sister's Company

MSC is going really well. We have been really busy with making products for the US. I've really been blessed by working with the women. They are all really excited to learn new skills and they are clearly very happy to have the opportunity to learn. I can't wait to see how they develop over the next couple of months.

Working on potholders

Here are a few examples of the products.

Everything comes in many different colors and designs.

Knot-bags

Pillow Cases

Free-form Earrings

Fabric Necklaces

Coconut Earrings

Wire Earrings

Potholders

Aprons

The past month in a nutshell

A second baby girl was born in my compound. This time we actually got to witness the naming ceremony and try to decipher what was happening. The Marabout (an intermediary of the spiritual world) shaves the babies head, and the elders sort of pass her around and formally decide on the name which is usually chosen by the father. Kola nuts and a pounded mixture of rice and sugar is passed out to everyone. And the rest of the day is a celebration.

Before Eric left we visited the biggest tree in West Africa which just happens to be in our backyard.

We also bought a solar oven that we have had fun experimenting with. (more to come on this in my newsletter)

A new Sister

Since Yankuba (Eric) is leaving we decided to get Asobes (matching outfits). Don’t be too weirded out. Eric’s doesn’t really match ours and it’s something they do for a special occasions. We went with some of our friends to pick out fabric and talk to the tailor. Lori and I got a custom made dress for the equivalent of $7, Eric’s was about $17. But like we told him, he bought a suit when we just bought a Sunday dress.
We have a new sister! Our landlords wife had her baby on Feb 18. She is a tiny little girl named Mariama. And our outfits were ready just in time for the naming ceremony.

Eric holding Mariama after the naming ceremony

This was a mis-shot but you can see the end result of the skin dye from the earlier post

Me and Mariama