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29 November 2004
Dear friends and family
What a privilege it is to be here. Your efforts and sacrifices to minister to the people whom God will choose to put in my life, or me in theirs, as one may see it, is going to be effective for the relationship of Nations and of hearts, one to one with each other and with Christ. Thank you for fulfilling this commitment faithfully.
I do feel like a ”missionary” today. I am propped up with my computer in the back of a van, my colorful native dress on, my skin already dry from the dry winds of the season. Feet dusty, I am delighted each evening as I prepare for bed to sit at a stool at the tub to wash my feet. I am reminded of biblical references to washing of feet; I see that if one enters a house here, the shoes come off at the carpet. With my plain concrete floor, the feet always seem dusty. What a joy and relief it is to have cleaned feet. To be washed clean.
I have worked my way through my first government procedure as I applied for my driver’s license. There were many people to speak to and again, my ears do not hear Nigerian English well yet. It is exasperating. Mostly for those who try so hard to communicate with me. The taking of “extra fees” from anyone who does not keep aware is a way of life in many transactions. I have paid a few already as this “baturi” white skin works her way into the culture.
I have begun to work with the girls. First assignment is to work the kinks out of the curriculum that I had written earlier this year while I was closing the business and the house. It will be much better now that I am here and can see the need. I will begin teaching cooking and nutrition also. (Lets get the microwave out) no, just kidding. We have great curriculum already in place for this course.
It is so tempting to design many new projects to share with the students. But I must follow through with the plans we have already made. I will be thinking about how we will even use the slim scraps of fabric that get thrown out. Surely, there is a project that we could devise that would teach a new skill, as well as a principle. It is most important that all lessons be tied to a Godly principle, so that it is not just a talent that is developed, but a lifestyle of principled living. What good would it do to have a business person who has no basis for honesty or integrity?
The business culture here is based on relationship first, then negotiating price second. So, the greeting process and personal questions need to precede any mention of product. This is hard for me to remember. I see myself requesting or stating my needs right up front. It is a bad habit that could cost me many friends and much money too, for that matter. But I see it purely as a logical personal habit to form. Why wouldn’t I show concern for anyone who is about to help me. We, as consumers, have the need, they have the goods and services. What if they only saw me as a means to an end? Their pay for the day. There is nothing personal about that. Each one of us has children or family with concerns, we have our personal struggles to just get to the workplace. Indeed, I want to validate that in everyone if I can remember to look up and deal with them on that level. Just when I get this under my belt, I will practice the art of negotiation of the price. I am told to offer half of the first price I am quoted. They appear insulted at this, yet they expect to play the game first. It is a test of will and character to stay in the game.
I am beginning to hear some of the stories of the girls. The orphan situation here is such that we are receiving many requests from villages near and far. Both for the little children and the teens. Some of our girls need to rent a room from a distant relative if she is abandoned. Imagine renting a room, which means probably a lean to outside of someone’s house. it will be close to dark as she arrives to this after trekking there after school. Maybe inside a place is provided. There is usually not plumbing or water or electricity in the villages out in the bush. She may not have a blanket yet, or the means to groom herself. Much is done when the girls arrive here in the morning. We have showers and cubbies where they can keep their clothes or uniform. You would never know these things until told, as they come eagerly, they begin singing as they begin the day with us and giggles go around like grasshoppers. I look forward to visiting them at their “homes." I understand they consider it a privilege to have visitors. We make it a regular thing each year or semester.
I know that they are not all singing though. I have heard of a few very sad situations and expect to hear more. The girls have almost all taken to me with welcome. This is what I hear as I come in or past a class room.
“WELL-Comb-ON-Tee JUDE.” Welcome auntie Jude” I changed my name to Jude for the girls as there is already a Judy in the girl’s center. I have been playful and delighted. I will need to draw that fine line to maintain my position as teacher and friendly person. Much is expected of white+ missionary+ woman of authority. I am just beginning to see what teachers all over the world face with their students. Passion for teaching, compassion for the student’s need, patience for and identifying learning style. Projecting hope and future use of curriculum. Building of character. I am one who also needs the building of character.
I just met a wonderful young man and his wife. It is Bill and Jana Quartrie. Bill, for sure I know is associated as an Ambassador for BSF. He has taken it upon himself to respond to the desire of his heart to serve the missionary population in some very meaningful way. He said as he began to notice that so many were technically and electronically handicapped, he prayed for direction. His answer was to help any of us who need help with our computers and electronics, and especially our correspondence, as that is very important to us. For this reason, you have this letter on your screen. I have been lifted out of my lameness, onto my feet with his help and techno-assistance. He explained that things develop here at a different rate than there, and so we are often looking for solutions that work today as yesterdays approach no longer works. Some of it is good change, some is retro change.
I will give you a sample of a very productive day for me so far. It is Friday, November 26, 2004. I awoke at 6:30, had a chance to shower and pray and prepare my list of tasks. Since I am living in an empty home, I have only a table and chair and bed, I need to outfit my living quarters. So here was the day. Made a pancake batter from scratch and memory, since I have no cookbook, sliced black ripe bananas and fried some great pancakes. Set my Melita coffee filter over my cup and poured boiling water thru. I hired a Nigerian man who works for Rafiki, Emanuel, to take me to town. He pulled up to call for me at 8:30. He drives conscientiously around the hundreds of holes in the road towards town??.If you were watching from above, you might think that you were looking down on one of those toys that moves about the room, forward or diagonally, until they bump into something and then they change direction at right angles. Our first stop is a lean-to store that sells minerals. That is what we call soda pop in bottles. All stacked in cases in the dirt, we stop to purchase a case in very old bottles, diet coke. I understand diet is very rare to find so I buy a second case. That should last a good six months at the rate I drink soda. But who knows, this may be the most refreshing idea on a hot dusty day. On to town. First to find a lamp. Décor store that I was referred to is not larger than my bedroom. No lamps, but today she has a few blankets. I buy one, as Linda, the woman whose blanket I am borrowing, is away but returns next week. Next stop, to see Bill. We pass through the huge metal gates at his home (compound) He fixes me up with internet savvy. Next, the money changer. No one uses the bank for this, don’t remember why. Just a few friends who will exchange Naira for US Dollars. He is out, but his man “David” can help me. They receive a small fee, A way down the road, our lives always seeming at risk because of the traffic, we see that the carpet store is open. It is like a concrete garage, He has a few large rolled rugs on the floor and propped up against the wall. He has saved the other rug I thought I might need. We greet and speak a few greetings and he brings out the rug I need in the living room. Interesting that once you develop a relationship with a rug dealer and you have all the rugs you need, how do you continue on the investment of each other to each other. No problem, I look around and see that he also has a box of shoes for sale, some toiletries and a little hardware. We well see each other again. Now to the main boulevard where I will purchase my Malaria medicine. I need Doxyclycline 100mg. In Grass valley, I paid $22. for 30 caps. Today , without a prescription, I pay $12.00 for 300 of the same. Expiration date 07. I’m okay with this. Next to the store where I picked up a set of dishes last week for kitchen. I used a cup in the micro and it sparks, so I want to trade it for an ironing board. I saw them on the floor last Saturday as I walked out. This shop, about the size of living room. After my greetings, I tell her my plight and she asks how much I paid. 3500 Naira, I respond. Oh no, you would never pay that much. Oh yes. I am afraid I did. I have no receipt. But she agrees to look in her little log book that they keep. 6 transactions that day, and yes, there it is. N3500 dishes. (sucker) Now she will credit me towards this dandy ironing board which we had already agreed to at N4400. I negotiated only N200 off. I notice that 2 of the rubber feet that slip over the end of the base of the board legs are missing. Well, looks like I am lucky as most of them have come across the world having lost their feet altogether. She agrees to let me have 2 more rubbers and I am on my way. I tell her I would like to return to do more business too if we can arrive at fair “best price” as they say here. ( on my way out, I covet that little goose neck lamp I see for my bed table as there are no other lamps to be found in town yet. ) I check it’s feel of quality, it seems to check out okay. I may return next week for it, if it is still here. As I approach the car, a young boy comes to me with his plastic bowl. This is a common way for the Muslims to send out their orphans. I have tried to avoid his begging. I am admonished by a young man who says I must acknowledge him at least with a greeting and he will then relinquish his begging. Indeed. I prayed this morning for a “knowing” of how I might be a giver. I am reminded at this point that I have felt a deep desire to help the poor women who sit at the side of the road hammering large stones into little pieces. They start with a rock about the size of a basketball. They chip away at it until it is uniform sizes , and they make piles of each size. An orange size, an apricot size and a grape size, even smaller. They will then be paid by a construction person who will load what they need and perhaps return for more next day. These women sit in the sun all day. I will bring them fruit and food when I pass thru on a regular basis, I believe. Their children are near by, some doing the same.
As we hustle to return home before noon, (this is a record for things accomplished in this short of time,) I see that the little shop where I purchased my 2 Nigerian dresses last week has burned to the ground. It was a very clever lady who had a great appeal as she displayed her things well for the passerby and for the Baturi or visitor. (Mindful, this in NOT a tourist destination in the least)
I had admired her entrepreneur spirit and had spoken to her a while last week and met her daughter who helped her. Robust and cheerful and helpful, they were. Yes, so I stopped to ask at a nearby “shop” what had happened. Where are they and did they lose everything in the fire or did they get all out in time. No, she replied. The daughter is in hospital with burns. I find the name of the hospital and am told that the owners name is Frieda. My heart is saddened. As we continue to the produce Muslim Market, I buy an extra bag of oranges, a full rack of bananas, a few other necessities. I think that the extra produce is for the rock women and their children when we pass them today on return. While heading back, I ask Emanuel to take me by the hospital. It is Evangel Hospital, a Christian Missionary hospital. Oh, now, this is behind those iron gates also. Little venders in the dirt parking area. Single story, painted in the 1950’s, concrete block with plaster. Painted concrete floors, easy to hose off. No official desk. No nurses uniforms. People on benches, waiting, blanketed. We search the halls and courtyard for someone who will answer my questions. Emanuel asks for the family who came with burns. “Women’s ward, room 7”. We can hardly fit in the room. Daughter Hanna is in a sleeping bag on the floor. Not injured. Momma Frieda is in the chair, several others are standing around. Rachel, who is burned is curled up under a wool blanket, bandaged hands, feet, head. Burn scars all over her face and neck. Not responsive, Just curled. Families have the responsibility to care for and feed their patients in hospital. No cafeteria, no check in nurses. No other care except for medications. I introduced myself to Frieda again and greet her. She lifts the blanket so that I may see the damages to her daughter. She looks about 18 and my heart breaks. Rachel is in pain and scarred, Frieda’s business is gone. Her inventory gone. We have a common trade and family. We have a common God, a common hope and trust. We pray for ease of pain, protection against infection and restoration of health, attitude and business. Frieda has agreed to write down where she lives so that I can visit her as Rachel recovers. I leave with greetings and return with my produce purchases for the family to eat while they await Rachel’s recovery. They cannot leave her alone. A little cash to help with expenses. I will not continue to give money, only encouragement, friendship and food and love. We will pray at a later date what we prayed yesterday in Devotions at the RGC. It will be a hard prayer perhaps. Frieda told me that the woman who has a shop across from her was jealous of her business and hateful, so she burned the business down. I think the daughter slept there at night to protect the goods. It happened at night. She asked that the white women would not shop with the other hateful woman, that I should tell others. I think on my way out to the car and on the ride home, Matthew 5:43-48 our lesson yesterday morning with the girls. In summary,” love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you.”
This will be hard at first. But it was from the mouth of Jesus, who did this to the very end. We arrived back to Rafiki before 1 p.m.
That was an eventful 4 ½ hours. I am about to bake a pie for our Rafiki family thanksgiving dinner on Saturday afternoon. My home is half of a duplex. We have a shared provisions rooms at the north end where we keep clothing for the little children(orphans) we are raising. Jackie, who is about 40 and a high energy red headed sweetheart with a gift of compassion and gratitude, has been bringing over 3 kids at time to try on shoes to grow in to. There is a barrel of used shoes to chose from. They turn in their old ones and get to leave with slightly larger ones. Hey, that is just what we did at my house when I was growing up with 5 siblings! The same routine happens when they need new shorts or tops. This is for their play clothes. I don’t know about the school uniforms. Probably the same.
Well that is enough for today. The power is on and much to do. It is actually Friday, and we have a day off for thanksgiving. I think I will do the laundry. By hand. My preference.
May God bless us with tender and responsive hearts. Thank you for sending me here with your sacrifices and prayers. May we pray for restoration of Frieda’s family, their hope and business too. I thank God and you for modeling loving behaviors that I can copy as I think of how to handle the day.
Much Love, Judy
Posted by libbystokes at 07:45 PM | Comments (0)
26 November 2004
I got to work with the girls today. They are so sweet. They sing a lot while they work on their projects. They giggle a lot. They call out, Good morning Auntie Jude. Then they all giggle. They call me that cause they already have a teacher named Judy. Some run up to me to hug, some come alongside to hold hands, some are still quite shy or just not that fun that way. They are very interesting. It is hard to make out what they say, as it is heavy with accent. They sing beautifully.
The little kids are just adorable. They have those big rounded foreheads and big eyes, and they too might want to crawl up onto my lap or hold a hand or just stand near and stare up at me. It is a wonder, what are they all thinking? Today the little ones learned Eph.6:1 Obey your parents, It is right in the lord.. So they played the “Mother May I“ game to learn how to ask for permission. They must always ask their mommies for permission. It was so cute. They were first grade to third grade.
Tomorrow I go to town to buy some stuff for the house. My boxes might get packed and shipped in a few weeks. I wonder how it will go.
I went to a local church on Sunday. There were hundreds of beautifully colorful people there. They clapped and sang much and move a lot. It sounds very good. They like to turn the speakers up loud, and they even use electric guitar and congas. It was good.
I will visit many such churches and hope to find one I fit into very well. I ordered a car today. Something like a Toyota, can’t remember the name. You know, the land cruiser type, but not that expensive. It will be about a 1992 , brought over the border from Europe. It will have lots of miles on it but will be useful for all the rough roads here. Please pray for a good one. I would love for it to be automatic, but that would take lots of prayers. The traffic here is crazy.
Judy on the go in Jos chaos. Pray!!!!!
I bought 2 red large rugs for my home here. Big to fill in some of the space. Raw concrete floors. Not painted. They seem dusty all the time.
I hear the Fulani shepherds cows calling out tonight. They herd their animals and live in the nearby hills. The Fulani are a nomadic tribe of tall beautiful people. They are also crafty and I hope to acquire some thing that they make. There are very few artisans in the country. I will purchase a few things as I see them so that I can bring them home to my supporters as some of them would like a little gift, I am sure.
I must get to bed. It is late.
-Judy
Posted by libbystokes at 07:34 PM | Comments (0)