15 November 2004
15 November 2004, 6:35 p.m.
My dear family and friends,
My plane just landed on the ground on the continent of Africa. What a moving moment!
I slumped over in prayer and tears. A heart and mind gripping time of exaltation of God’s faithfulness, provision, His omnipotence, omnipresence, He is here and will be with me. I am not alone. He is not hiding nor hidden away that I should sit in this seat without Him. After a thought that someone may approach me to comfort me at this emotional moment, I feel the arm of Jesus pull me to his shoulder. He is the comforter as I weep for having left my home and you. He is my counsel as I ask what next. He is my friend, father and companion as I look around the plane for someone to share this moment with. No one left on this plane speaks English! I speak to God and cry on His shoulder.
Flying in on the German airline Lufthansa, everything is in German and English, yet everyone around me is speaking a native dialect of their African Country. How appropriate that God would be the one who is available at my most vulnerable experience! Why else would I come all this way but to underline this truth to many who need to hear and know that?
This is Lagos Airstrip. The town looked vast of single and 2 story buildings, green all around. Fires burn everywhere. Is it trash burning? What is it?
An airport, international, with only one plane in it. Ours. Except for the military and a few private planes.
We are airborne again to get to Abuja airport. Again. One plane, ours. The visa looks like it is written out wrong. It doesn’t say how long I will be staying. I need to report to the embassy within the week.
Sam met me at the airport. A satchel of cookies, 2 rolls that look life English muffins or squashed bagels, some peanuts and a bottle of water for drinking and brushing teeth. The driver Sam, kindly brought 2 bananas for me. That was nice. They would have been thrown out at the market in grass valley, but here, tonight, they are like cheesecake to me.
It was dark and many people and cars are on the side of the road while we speed out of the airport district. It says 120 on the speedometer. That is not in MPH but the metric equivalent here. At least I hope so. Honk honk honk. Kind of like someone just kicked open an ant hill. Sam is concerned that if the strike, (for the fuel prides actually hits tomorrow morning,) we will be stranded here in Abuja tomorrow, maybe for a long while. Maybe so. So he said he would stop to make a call to Melinda, the director here. Because of the immanent strike which will cause all traffic to stop, open markets all over the highway are open with fires burning. It is interesting. It is so dark except for the little fires. We pull over to a table under an umbrella. It is a young woman who rents out here cell phone for calls. We call Melinda and she encourages us to stay put until 5-6 and get on the road early. Driving at night is too dangerous. Getting stranded in Abuja is the lesser of the concerns. The hotel is like a white stucco resort with marble floors and walls, (mock marble I am sure.) The bed is hard, not like a mattress hard; it is more like a different hardness. More like a bale of hay might be covered with an inch of padding. It is interesting.
I was almost petrified as I turned the lock on the door after asking the porter to return for me in eh morning at 5 AM. But then I decided to shower, and grip my confidence back. On my knees, I instead thanked God in advance for the adventure I will experience, for the people whose lives I will touch and who will touch mine. For the safety that we will experience at the Hand of the Mighty creator who allows all of this, that just because it is different doesn’t mean that it is bad, or scary or dangerous. It could be all or none of the above, dependent on who is involved with each scenario.
I am reading a great book that Jon Cerrona lent me just before I left. It is “In search of the source” the chronicle of a translator who lives with a Papua New Guinea tribe and works at listening to their legends and way of life and has great discussions with the people to decide what words mean in their language. It is easy reading and very interesting. It has been a good thing to read just as I go into a culture much unlike ours. It will serve as a resource of how to listen better. Read it! You won’t regret it.
I encourage all to “act as if” God is who He and we say He is. If we do, we will listen closer to what we say and pray, and it is just what caused me to sit here on this bed tonight cross-legged typing at my computer, rather than trembling in fear and regret that this missionary life might not be what I thought it would be. God knows quite well how to handle everything we bring to him and He brings to us. We can confidently ask Him how He will handle any of our situations and promise to watch and listen and act according to Hi s leading.
I’m off to sleep. I hope Sam is able to sleep okay. He said he would sleep in the van so we will start out early. That could be a hard night’s sleep. I met a kind Nigerian woman at Frankfurt airport. I tested my new intercultural protocol and asked of her family and wellbeing, and after a while of sharing, we spoke of our names. Mine seemed easy enough, but hers was Chioma and her daughter’s something I truly couldn’t pronounce, but it meant blessing of God. Her simple response to me when I mentioned that I will have trouble remembering names as I meet many new people was, “you must write each name down.” Well, indeed, I did so at the very moment and that is going to work, as I have just relayed her to you. Indeed!
17 November.
I really slept well in spite of the hay bed. It actually is solid firm foam and feels pretty good. I took my first Nigerian shower where it is imperative to keep the water out of your eyes and mouth. Not too hard. Every time we brush our teeth, we must take the water bottle that sits at the sink to wet and rinse. Never again to drink out of the faucet. Please use that simple pleasure as a reminder to pray for us here. Thanks.
Yesterday was a bit foggy as I was situated in my quarters. The Jet lag and all. Each of the team has assigned themselves a part of my orientation. Each brings me a meal or two, and tells me to get rest and take a couple days to get my bearings. That sounds like a great idea, but when I face my Quarters, I am sunk. Actually, the building is very new, and nicely laid out. I have 2 bedrooms with a bathroom between and they open to a long living room and kitchen. It is painted a Navajo color, has bare unfinished cement floors and very nice red framed louvered windows. Lots of windows. I like that. It is just that there is no furniture except for a white plastic patio table and 2 chairs. Someone cut a few roses for me with a note to use anything in the next rooms adjacent. (this is a duplex) Linda, who lives there is away on vacation and will be back 30 Nov. So I can use her bed and living room if I want. I did sleep in her room and will enjoy the same kind of mattress. I must admit that it is VERY firm yet I like it. Who’d have guessed?
I am so glad that Diana gave me a lot of coffee beans and I brought the coffee grinder and a coffee cup that Katie gave me years ago. I also brought some silk lilacs and my notorious white table cloth. I can sit her now with my computer, which luckily Libby showed me how to use and my book stand and my bible. It may sound a little hokey, but it sure looks like home to me and I really appreciate that now as I think in the quite of the African night. I am borrowing Linda’s boom box and have begun to play many of the classical cd’s I chose to bring along. I can thank David for that. I couldn’t have gotten here with out the help and encouragement of Carolyn and Cynthia and Maria particularly, as well as the packing and repacking patience of lyndsy miller.
The generous donations and support of all you faithful givers.And yes, everyone else. And all the prayers. And all the patience. Thank you again and again.
Well, I went over to see the girls this morning in the Girls center. I went at 8 am when the last one was coming through the gate to the center. She must have walked many miles. How do they time it so well? Some of them have no bed, no room. Just the floor at someone’s house. They are all hair braided in tiny braids curving across their scalps, or wrapped in cloth in traditional ways or tightly tied in bandana knotted at the back of the neck.. They are young and beautiful. Singing a song of praise that is new to them, they struggle with this new hymn, but manage to find a perfect harmony as they try to deliver the words for the first time. They know many hymns and sing daily at this time. I struggle along with them. They sound better than me. For sure. I glanced up a few times to see who they are, after the singing. We have a few discussions about the topic today. “God is Just”
What does that mean? He delivers justice, faithful to his promise to forgive those who ask for forgiveness. What if we don’t want to admit that we need forgiveness? What about our wanting to deny that we have sinned, we fail to ask. Oops!
I would compare that to how we act among ourselves, but we are not “just” like God. We hold grudges on some and not against others. We move boundaries and change the rules so that our behaviors are justified in our eyes. But our eyes are not Gods.
Oh, I am craving ice cream. Creamy cold. No such thing in Nigeria. Not often anyway. If ever.
I just went into my little kitchen. There was some non fat dry milk they bought for me and some eggs in the fridge. I found a bag of sugar too. A little clear plastic bag of sugar that they sell here. Not the big five pounder! No one ever has enough money to buy a big anything. Even laundry detergent is sold by the cup. I decided to mix some milk, add some eggs and pour in some sugar. Wire Wisk it till it is thick and slightly burned on the bottom of the pan. It smells like ice cream to me. Actually, it is delicious. I will pour in a couple drops of vanilla that Katie gave me in the last minute and voila! Good stuff. If I refrigerate it and have the rest tomorrow, I will consider it ice cream then. Whew.
I went into town today with Paul, the husband of our nurse. He had to pick up meds for the little children (orphans) here. Not orphaned any more. We have given them a family! We walked into a dark two level room where the back room is filled with boxes of prescription drugs. But no one has a prescription. Just tell him what you want. Interesting. The dates were all current on the boxes and so it is just another way of doing business. This is a cash society where every receipt is written out on paper and a carbon sheet is put under it for the copy. We went several places and it was the same. It is like being in a movie. I feel like a few people are looking at me, I am white and I have only seen 3 others in 2 days, except for our team of 8. I have only worn the native dress, my bubu which is long and colorful. I feel very comfortable and remarkably assured that I am welcome. That is the culture to say WELCOME to any stranger who comes into your store or room. That and good afternoon. We heard it all day.
What about the poor and beggars that I anticipated. They are there, they come to the window of the car before I get out, looking me straight in the eye. I gently nod with a slight smile of acknowledgement. I have been advised to pray about my response to their need. Often times it is good to carry fruit along to give these children. They may be able to keep it. They are all nice and careful thus far. I saw my first skeletal child on the walkway. With a bowl for coins. The poster child of every compassionate group.. I hear he is here everyday. I wonder what goes on in the minds of those who sit in this need everyday. Someone tends them and sends them out. My response is surely prayer tonight to find a way to meet the responsibility of compassion and love. I can tell you that going to town is definitely going to be a challenge. The traffic is without the order that we rely on. It is BIGGEST has the right of way, then the car, then the moped, then the pedestrian. They are all so very good at avoiding one another. I am amazed. They seem oblivious to the danger. They wave and honk in courtesy as they pass. They are a gentle, friendly people, preoccupied with earning whatever they can. We needed oil for the car. I boy sells car oil out of soda bottles on the roadside. Everyone can set out whatever they have to sell.
I will be buying a car soon. We have a “friend” who will go to the border or the coast to see the new “used cars” coming in from Europe; he will try to find what we are looking for. Turns out you buy what you can get parts for. Toyota vans and trucks, Mercedes, (OLD) Honda and one other. One fellow here has a Mitsubishi and can’t get parts easily, so he is disappointed at his choice.
I must tell you about the ride in on Tuesday as I was taken from the hotel in Abuja. After the 3 ½ hour drive to Jos, we drove back along the bumpy road that leads to the Rafiki Village; I see a landscape that resembles northern calif. Looks a bit like Marysville to browns valley. Huge rock outcroppings. It is a beautiful site. The driver, Sam, who anticipated my delight upon seeing the village for the first time slowed the car, asked me if I was ready, and then proceeded over the hill to look down upon the red roofed collection of buildings where I would unpack my things and begin a new life in Africa. I cried a lot. It was joy and fear and exhaustion and relief to have made it here.
Email will not be consistent. It was down in many places yesterday and today. I will just write and write and when it can get sent, I will send it. I got my cell phone today and will try to read all about it. It is purchased with a call card. The price has gone way down as the competition is up. They sell them like cigarettes, though no one seems to smoke here. I paid $ 100 for a nokia with a time card. They paid $400 last year. I will try to learn messaging. Can we do that without much cost and time? I will read up.
I will be going over to meet the little kids. Yesterday, they brought the “mothers” over to meet me. They were dressed in their colorful native fabrics; they were so excited and cheery and repeated the welcome welcome welcome. I was so excited; I did the “shuffle dance” that I do when I get excited. They laughed and laughed at me. They have a difficult job. They each care for 10 little children, and they are so beautiful in their countenance and vitality. Although it is difficult, they are careful and joyful in this opportunity. It will be my privilege to relieve them “on rotation” so that they can have time off and visit town and their other friends.
Tomorrow I will go to the class room to observe a little more and continue with my orientation. It is very important to know how and why we do what we do. Everyone depends upon the continuity. The team here is tender and joyful with the kids. I find a new side of me that is capable of change. Katie, your last few hours with me reminded me of how to wait to say the next appropriate thing. It has really helped me communicate better. Thanks.
Libby and John. Get a copy of the book I mentioned earlier. It is sooooooo good. I think you will both like it a lot for different and the same reasons.
That’s all for tonight. The ceiling fan is cooling me and the crickets and bugs are singing outside. I saw the sliver of the moon and thought of you,. As we have the same moon in our skies. Thousands of miles but not a heart beat away from each other. I love you so much. Please don’t think of the way off and how much we might miss each other. I will return as often as I can. You must make the most of everyday. Do well and love those around you in a rich way that comforts, encourages and motivates a response. I remember something I wrote in the back of my bible once. It was this. “Evangelism = loving them until they ask why”
So cheap beans! Share this with anyone who might want to hear. Please.
Love,
YO MOMMA , or “Auntie Judy” as they call me here.
Posted by libbystokes at 10:21 AM | Comments (0)