Just a note to say hi and I wanted you to see one of the girls work. We did a 3 dimensional piece using colored paper.  They had so much fun with this assignment.  This is Rahab.  She is very quiet and usually acts like she doesn’t understand.  Her English is not good but her work is in art class is delightful.  She has the sweetest disposition as she is also withdrawn.  I don’t have the vocabulary to describe her.  I need to give her instructions many times over.  But what a talent.  Then, if you can look closely at the drawings of the flip flops on the wall behind her.  I asked the girls to draw their shoes and they did very elementary drawings.  Then I asked them to draw what they really saw and walked each one through the “ looking at it”  when they were done, they got great praises and delight in their work.  Especially when I said it was “university work.” 

There are some other phenomenal things they do that I am doing a series on as a study to relate the Cultural bias that penetrates their Vision of what they see and do,  it is quite beautiful and I think you will enjoy it.  I love teaching art.  Hey hey. 

-Judy

The night is loud with bugs singing and twitching and calling out to each other.  I am playing Handel’s Water Music Suite in F (as if to will refreshment) with all the louvered windows open and every fan on to move the heavy air off my mood.  We are just days away from the beginning of the rain season.  The clouds are low and dark and yet they hold themselves in tact one more day.  Humidity is in the high 80%.  It is obvious we are on the brink of the new season.  My sister asked me what the seasons are like, the food, the lay of the land.   I think I will share it with all of you.  I arrived in November to the first month of dry season.  There was still a little green in the weeds and grasses at that time. Water was flowing in the stream nearby our village, as well as near town.  That was 5 months ago.  Today, the stream is still: a bluish milky muck.  Not moving.  The open field outside my door is a grey brown haze of dust.  The wells in the area are dry and so a new movement of people has begun. 

Children mostly, with 5 gallon buckets on their heads or alongside their skinny bodies, are in search of water for the family. I know that they have knowledge of the water sources near the hills.  It is a long trek and they move in groups of 5 or 6.  They always wave their free hand and smile or call out as I pass or they pass me. In the US we have our $1.00 water bottles of spring water, here we have plastic baggies looking a bit like water balloons for sale.  I personally keep my water bottle filled from my water filter tank by the sink.  People who can spare probably 10% of their daily income might buy a drink of bagged water.  The young men I have seen on the road as motorcycle taxi men will sometimes buy a bag and open it over their heads.  I love to see their relief.  It has been hot and dry.  Dry like I have never known.  Dry, as in the wood furniture splits, the rubber bands crumble, herbs hung in the kitchen are dry in a couple hours.  So dry that the blue Scotch Bright sponges that I brought with me dry up so fast and twist so that the scrubbing pad separates and peels off.  Fields near the road seem to spontaneously catch fire and burn for a half acre or so and then die out for lack of fuel.  Dust doesn’t burn long. 

So ,  did I say I was heavy mooded as I await the rainy season?   You betcha.  The whole state of Plateau as well as most of West Africa awaits the relief.  Early Saturday mornings lately I have seen troops of young boys marching along the roadway following a couple uniformed men carrying flags of Nigeria and of their organization.  Kind of like boy scouts.  Some times they march, sometimes they are almost dancing.  I watched last week as I imagined they were out doing a rain dance.  I thought they were looking a little delirious in the heat.  But they are used to it.  Would you believe with all that I have told you, many of our girls here at school are wearing stocking caps and sweaters anyway?  I have never once heard a Nigerian complain about the weather.  Not once!  We Baturis talk about it (and complain) all the time. See?

Let me change the subject to food. I am not losing any weight here.  Nor am I gaining any either.  The staple of my diet is vine ripe tomatoes daily, one or two bananas, some cereal or granola that a woman in town makes, some kind of red sauce on starch a few times a week and the leanest meat I have ever seen.  Lean and usually very tough.  I don’t eat much of it any more.  The pork meat is the best for texture and flavor. It is just kind of hard to think about it much though as I see the pigs along the side of the road scavenging. But so far, we cook it good and long and no one has gotten ill from it.  It is the fish I won’t try at all.  The waterways are so bad and Saturday is laundry day at the rivers edge. Missionaries love chocolate.  In all sorts of forms, so there is always some of that being circulated. The best and grandest surprise to me has been the strawberries. 

There are few local women who have planted large plots of ever bearing type and I can buy it by the kilo and soak them (as well as all produce) in a bleach solution to kill off the sickening bacteria.  Really, if you bite into any of it without the soak, you are in for a difficult week of trots and belly aches.  I have been treated for Giardia recently so I want to be very careful.  So, anyway , the strawberries are sweet and I keep them frozen after their bleach bath and use them with powdered milk and bananas as a smoothie.  Nice. The closest thing to ice cream when I put it all in a blender and add ice.  So anyway, cooking and buying food is a whole day project and I don’t cook much.  Did I mention that peanuts are plentiful and are roasted at the roadside stand and another local woman has learned that we folk like peanut butter.  So she grinds it.  Just what I had for dinner again tonight. We who like coffee bring it in from the states or have volunteers who come to help bring it in for us.  I have a night once a month when I grind coffee for myself and a friend.  I brought my coffee grinder that a friend gave me a few years ago.  It is a 110 volt appliance.  That is odd in a country that is somewhere about 220 V. more or less.  And what I mean by that is that the power fluctuates a lot here so one has to buy several voltage regulators.  Let me draw you a picture of how this all works.  I purchased a transformer in the US before I left for Africa.  It weighs about 30 pounds but is only about a 6” cube of solid coil.  I need a plug adaptor to plug the transformer into the voltage regulator that needs a special plug to fit the wall sockets.  I have plugged a super duper power strip from the US into the transformer and then the coffee grinder gets plugged into that.  There are about 4 on and off switches that I have to remember to “on” and then I can grind the coffee.  That is why I set a date and time for this event with others standing by.  Once I surprised everyone at a gathering by making chocolate covered coffe beans from the coffee that I had just received from my daughters in a miracle package that actually arrived here without a real address on it.  They were a hit. 

I will end this news with a little bit about the critters I encounter here.  No lions or tigers, not even hyenas, however, from the way the dogs pace back and forth with their noses to the ground,  I think they are derived from the hyena family.  One critter is my living room lizard. He is elusive and quick and kind of chameleon, apparently harmless, so I just leave him to roam.  I think it is a good idea to have one or two in residence.  Because, just two nights ago, just inside the door was the biggest spider I have ever seen. Very hairy.  Not the kind of visitor I hoped for as I began to close up for the night.  My technique for capture is not to chase them around as they are very quick and like to hide under dark, low furniture pieces. My bed is low to the ground, the bed sheets actually touch the floor some nights as I turn or toss about in the heat.  So, I have perfected the wet towel toss.  I can thoroughly wet a dish towel and nail an intruder from up to 6 feet away. The weight of the wet towel holds the  varmint in place until I come with my club and mash every inch of the towel with primal huffs. So far so good.  I would have loved to share the specimen of the huge arachnid, but there were too many pieces to reassemble to do so.  I can adeptly put a glass jar over bugs on the wall or screen windows and even coax birds back outside with fly swatters. So there.  Oh.  Just one more.  This is the best.  It is common to see bugs on the floors.  It is also most common that they are dead.  They are usually lying on their backs.  Humm.  Anyway.  There are ants in the front of the house that scout my house for just such as these.  So occasionally, when I see a critter apparently crawling slowly across the floor, I get up close to it to observe 4-6 little ants carrying off lunch for the queen.  They are very strong and agile to cart off such large carcasses.  It is much like the animated bug cartoon movies of the 1990’s. I point to the door as if to give them orders or directions and they are out in a flash.

Beethoven’s Fifth Symphony is just finishing up and it is exactly what we call missionary midnight.  9 P.M. so as the final movement is playing, I will close and make it to bed for the usual early rising.  My day is long at the Girls center.  7:30 – 4 each day.  Tomorrow I will take the tailoring class into town to shop for fabric.  They are very excited.  I will take them to lunch at a bakery that makes things like pasties.  Meat and potatoes in a bread crust.  Tasty and spicy.  We will have a mineral (soda in a bottle) and that will be a real treat for all.  Emmanuel will drive us in the Rafiki van.  I look forward to each and every day. 

Life is a contrast of joy and sadness, fun and difficulty.  It has meaning way beyond what most of us realize.  May I encourage you with the following verses from the Bible.

 “ I have not stopped giving thanks for you, remembering you in my prayers.  I keep asking that the God of Our Lord Jesus Christ, the glorious Father, may give you the spirit of wisdom and revelation so that you may know Him better.  I pray also that the eyes of your heart may be enlightened in order that you may know the hope to which He has called you.  the riches of His glorious inheritance in the saints”  Ephesians 1:16-18.

Your love and concern are a topic of my gratitude in daily praises and your personal needs and trials are covered in my prayers through Christ. 

I love you more than I did before. 

Judy

This just a quick memo to alert you to a common Nigerian mail scheme and fraud that I have experienced.  Some one has opened a letter that had been mailed to me and a bogus letter was substituted that told me much money had been raised for my mission and that I could pick it up in a nearby town and that I should pay the carrier a certain amount of money. 

This is distressing news to think that your letters to me may be opened and who knows what.  Please do not let that deter you, only be aware of what you put in them. 

Also.  NEVER send money to anyone who may say that I am in danger and you can help.  It is possible that if they see you have written me, they may want to contact you since they know you care. 

If anything of the such comes to you, please call the home office of Rafiki, they are in San Antonio and they will tell you of my condition.  I will include the home office phone number.  A few of you have asked how you can help me in a financial way, if not directly to the Rafiki Office. 

Please keep the phone number and email address handy.  I have even been told that the FBI has a special detail that is collecting evidence.  I think she said it was a 417.  You are advised to alert them if you receive anything suspicious. 

I am sure nothing will come of this, but please be careful of fraud.

Rafiki Home Office  210 244 2600. and the email address to reach anyone about me is susyh(at)rafiki-foundation(dot)org.

My best to all of you. You are all in my prayers and thoughts. 

Judy Stokes, aunty Jude. 

When I buy produce , I have to bleach it, so here is a picture of it soaking in the sink.

Judy

The toy truck is hand carved by the locals here.  The part you cannot see is that there are several carved men in the back of the car.  I love the one on the back and the drivers too.  

The real truck is also full of people inside.  They travel past here every morning at 7:30 am.  I think that they are workers with farm food to sell in the market places.  I am not sure. Men and women are stuffed on for the ride.  They pay more than 80% of their wages for the ride to earn what they can.  That doesn’t seem to deter them.

More to follow,
Judy  

I sure love the coffee that was sent to me in the mail a while ago.  I just got filters in my big shipment.  Would you believe that someone took all my threads from the boxes. And my shampoo and vitamins.  Who would have guessed?  But almost everything else is there.  I am happy and well.

Judy 

Hi to you!  just a short note to say all is well, and this is my namesake, Judith, with me.  I am happy to say my things arrived this week.  I am so glad to have many conveniences that were packed.  Life has been so busy .  we have a week off before Easter for in-service days at the Center.  I hope to get rest and news to you then.  Meanwhile, know that you are held in my heart with love and joy.

And it is Birthday season too for so many of you.  I celebrate that you have such good health and a good life and good work.  We thank God!

Till later.   Judy

Hi to you, or better yet, I can greet you with the local greeting.

Sunnu! 

I am sending on this picture of one of our students and her mom and young brother.  All of our girls come from remote villages and live in the mud huts without services of any sort.  We have gone out on the past few weekends to visit the families and greet them with the news that their child, the teen girl we have at the center is doing well in school and that we are grateful that they would let her come to us for furthering her education and gaining valuable skills that will make her an asset to her family, village and maybe her country.  The girls appear to have good situations upon our visits.  Many come from loving families who have suffered severe poverty, multiple deaths, deaths of parents.  What doesn’t show up in the pictures is the past of beatings, slavery, abuse and extreme hunger that some  of them faced while in the village setting.

The picture here shows a round hut on feet.  It is used primarily for storage of grain from their meager farming of millet or guinea corn.  Or, it may be used to house the chickens during the rain season.  The fields are bone dry right now and we see no food available.  Their common meal is made of a fine grain called acha.  It is kind of like cream of wheat or couscous.  They almost always season it with pepe.  A hot cayenne type of pepper.  That is the meal of the day and week and month, day after day until the rains come. 

We are invited into the homes.  This picture shows the humble interior of a hut. We were greeted with many smiles and heartfelt curtsies and hands clenched and tapped on the heart of the greeter. One of the mud block rooms has dirt floors, swept clean and everything is quite clean in that manner.  A mat on the floor is evidence of the sleeping arrangements at night.  Not much to see here for furniture or “stuff”  If the family has ever received a greeting card, chances are it is tied to a string and hung on the wall from the rafter.  I will forward a picture I took of one of the houses that had furniture and even a loose tile floor of asbestos tiles.

You will also receive a picture of several of the kids who come to see who these strange visitors are.  We greet them, hear the stories, pray with them and then on our way out, we are stopped to be introduced to several orphans who need homes and people to love and care for them.  Many times they have been too old for us to take here, as we only  take in the ones under 5 years old.  It is heart breaking.  We must pray for God to send more help for these people. The kids are suffering for nothing they have done.  They suffer a lot.

So many come to ask us to take the kids who have been left behind as the parents die. They are great in number and need. May God bless those who are caring for them at this time and may He protect them from further abuses. Who needs this extra mouth to feed and body to bed down at night. I have met some who are growing so tired and weary because they have taken in so many over the years. They are old and wrinkled and still responding.

I hope that these pictures tell the stories that some days I am just to weary to tell, or speechless upon remembering.  In spite of the poverty of the families, we were gifted with a live chicken from 2 of the families we visited.  It took a long time to find the chicken.  They would not let us leave until we accepted it.  It was almost impossible to accept. I said, “no, no.  please, we cannot accept.”  I was quieted and reminded that the insult of not accepting these gifts would be harsher on them than the loss of their offering was to them.   I think of the bible stories of sacrifices of the animals or grains or first fruits.  ( we were also offered bags of acha)  stories of God accepting these gifts as pleasing sacrifices and evidence of what the heart attitude was.  Here, we see that same thing in this culture.  The heart attitude and culture and custom.  I am not to judge any heart attitude, but  my own.  I certainly would have not let on that I even had a chicken if I were them. Could I have given my last meat meal to visitors ?   

There is much joy and much sorrow.  But we find more joy!   The families were quite glad to have something of value to share. 

I am slowly learning my way around the customs and language and area.  Some days I feel so grossly inadequate, and other days, so rich with experiences and hope to share.  I pray God will make me useful as I forge along wondering what to say and what to do.

Please keep praying for our usefulness as we show up every morning.  May God’s grace be poured out upon each of you as you also wake up to each morning with the same desire. 

With love and care for each of you too. 
Auntie Jude     

Hello to all of you!!!

Happy New Year to all.  I hear that the winter has hit the U.S!  I am amazed how little we hear of anything outside our area.  We huddled around the TV in town to hear and watch the rescue from the Tsunami, but besides that, we are pretty isolated here.

Where do I start?  I hope to send you all the best news and stories, pictures and prayer needs for the upcoming year as I greet you and ask for the same from you. 

Let me start here by letting you know that I am trying to get help with my lost address book and the way mail goes out of here so that I can keep in contact with you.   I need a computer tutor!!!!!!  Even our missionary friend is stumped as to why my address list continues to get lost in the computer most days.  So I am trying to start over with all my entries. Please bear with me and pray for my communication needs to be met soon.

Our Mission here in Jos is everything and more that we talked about together.  We are watching as the young teen girls make daily progress in their vocational training and academic lessons.  The greatest progress is their spiritual and social advances.  We see very shy and inexperienced young teen girls acquire understanding, courage, patience, dignity, and joy and hope as we carefully take them through life’s lessons every day.  I will have progress reports and stories coming soon.  The orphans we take in, we will get 6 more this week, are no longer orphans.  They have a family here, brothers and sisters, mommies and aunties and uncles and a great Heavenly Father.  They too come to us without language skills, social skills or often times even the ability to use their limbs as they often come malnourished and badly neglected, yet within months, they develop miraculously and are showing signs of bonding and healthy responses in all areas.  The work here is non stop and my favorite part of it is that we have so many children in need who respond to love and attention, discipline and stimulation.  We have mommies, women from the local villages, who have dedicated their lives to become the national, real mommies to these kids and we are beginning to seek mentors from the community for our teens that will soon move into the working world. 

This is real, “hands on” satisfying work and our team of co-workers, Missionaries and Nationals, are full of purpose and diligence.  I have a lot to learn to meet the demands of daily life here, yet I know that I already fit in and serve a great need. 

Please keep us in your prayers and thoughts and if you can, drop a letter in mail [If interested in mailing Judy a Letter, please leave a comment for this entry with your name and email so that you can get her mailing address].  I sure would love to hear from you and hear all about your comings and goings. On Tuesday, just like in the service, we have mail call.  I sure need to get called.

If you are inclined to send any news clippings from the paper, interesting pictures of yourself or of the family, please do so.  

If you are one who would consider sending tapes of weekly sermons, music or even movies, they too would be most welcome. We share them between ourselves here. They could be sent to the same address with the following ideas for safe arrival.  

Mail in a padded manila envelope average letter size or legal size rarely requires us to pay any duty. No food stuff at this time. I would rather, at this time, just get some good news and pictures and music.  (I have heard that rats in the local post office nibble on anything with a pleasing taste, so some have said that if you put scented dryer sheets in the envelope, the rats stay away.) That is why I won’t ask for any food stuff yet.  If you have questions, let me know. 

I am just beginning my third month here with Rafiki.  My ears are beginning to hear Nigerian English much better and I find myself singing a lot more than I ever did.  Singing and work go together here. When we sing worship songs from the hymn book each morning, I know the girls cannot read the music, so where does all the harmony come from?  It is a natural talent.  I noticed the same thing with the choir at church.  All they have are the words. No notes to follow. And yet, I hear 3-4 harmonies. 

I praise God for the way He works this all out for the good of those he brings here. For providing for our needs as we work each day’s details out. For keeping me healthy and strong.

Please continue to pray for the new orphans to arrive and for their adjustments as they begin their new lives here.

For our spiritual and emotional and social growth and adjustments as we learn a new way of life and service with all new people and situations.

And please pray for more people to answer yes to the call on their hearts to inquire about how they too can help through the Rafiki Foundation. www.rafiki-foundation.org

Until later, I am joyfully serving in Jos, 
Judy Stokes

This is a group of orphans who we have taken in.  They just received their “new” old and used dresses for playtime.  They can wear their “new" old shorts under them when it gets cold or they are in the play ground.  They never have new from the store.  They were at my house and we were picking through the recycled clothes that they wear.  We give them something that fits them every 4-6 months as they grow.  As you can see, they are quite happy to have them.  Same goes for shoes. The tennis shoes get passed around a lot too.  Pray that they will adapt to their new life. They will bond as siblings, they will grow to know and love the Lord.  These kids have been with us for about a year or less so they look much more adjusted.

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 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

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.

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

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.

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.