Joanne's Gambia blog

One of those days

2010-10-02T12:39:00.004Z

Some days just don't go the way you planned. You know those kind of days. Everybody has them, but some are more interesting than others. Take my day yesterday. It was Friday, so we only work until 12:30 pm so that our Muslim employees can get to 2:00pm prayers. As I was getting ready for work, I thought to myself, "Ahh, Friday...I should be able to be home by 1 PM and taking a nap by 2 pm. It had been a busy week and I was tired.

When I got to work, my co-worker reminded me that one of our temporary employees was naming his child today. If I wanted to go, we could go together right after work. OK, so my timetable adjusted a little. We could go briefly, pray for the baby, give our gifts and still be home by 2pm.

After work we get in the car to go to the naming ceremony. I knew that the family's houses had all fallen in the rains so they were renting somewhere else, but I didn't know that they were renting in the area where my co-worker got stuck with the car a few weeks ago. I found out on the way and had an immediate dread of what might be coming. My co-worker assured me that we would be fine if we used the other road. Famous last words. The road was bad, but with the car in 4-wheel low, we got through with no problem. As we pulled up to the compound all of a sudden the car fell sideways and we were in up to the bottom of the car on one side. Yikes.

All the men from the naming ceremony came out to see if they could help. They pushed. They dug. They jacked. They pushed some more and dug some more. My side of the car was leaning toward the ground so I couldn't open my door, but all the Gambians thought that I needed to get out of the car. I decided that my life was not in danger; I wasn't going anywhere! Picture trying to scramble over a gearshift, going uphill, wearing a long straight skirt in a car that has 30 men and boys surrounding it! NO WAY! They offered to pull me out, but Deb and I assured them that I would be fine in the car. Of course at that time we didn't know how long this adventure was going to last. Deb was able to get in and out of the car, so I sent her to go take pictures.

From my ringside seat in the car I got to listen in as the men discussed their options. They tried every plan they could think of, but no success. I was also watching the children playing behind the car. They were jumping on the ground which was undulating like a waterbed mattress, but not falling through. Where they punctured the ground with a stick, they could insert their arms
up the the elbow or deeper. No wonder we fell in! (No, I'm not covering my eyes in despair! More likely the sun was in my eyes.)

The man who was naming his child that day went to the man who owns a tractor (he had pulled out my colleague a few weeks before). Unfortunately he was sick, but he would send his younger brother. He came and went home to discuss their options. Ultimately, they decided that they couldn't risk bringing in the tractor for fear of it getting stuck too!

We had called Keith as well (the only male missionary working with us in NK) and told him what was going on. He had been having his own adventures that day, but we didn't know that. After a while, the men decided that we needed some metal truck ramps and a winch. So Keith went and brought the equipment in the pick-up. By this time we have been in the hole about 3 hours.

They attach the winch around a big tree about 75 yards away and attach the wire to the front of the car. Then the slow process of hand winching us out begins. Inch by inch the wire tightens. It takes a while before it's taut enough to move the car at all. The metal ramps are positioned under the front wheels and the process begins. Meanwhile Keith decides that this is slow. Maybe the truck could get close enough to pull us out. The only road to us is the road where Deb got stuck before. We could still see the hole that she had left. Keith saw it too, but thought he could get past it. As Deb saw the truck moving, she said, "I hope Keith doesn't get the truck stuck too." Just then we see the front end of the truck drop. Whoops, 2 missionary cars stuck.
So the men who had been helping us all day went to help Keith. He had to do some digging and then they could push him out. Whew!

Finally the winch did its job and got us out! The ground was so soft though that when we thought we were out, the men saw that we were sinking again. They all yelled and grabbed the car to help it forward a little ways where fortunately the ground was firm enough to hold. So we were out of the hole, but now how do we get the car out to a better road?!

We can't turn around and go out the way we came. The other road was where Keith had gotten stuck. We were fairly close to the main road, but there were 2 soft places we would have to get through. Bring on the ramps! We drove a few feet at a time as the crowd of men around us grabbed the pieces of metal from behind us and put them in front. Finally, as it is getting dark, we pulled out onto the paved road! We were in that mud hole for 6 hours! (A few hours into the process we turned on the car and enjoyed some air-conditioning! The things we'll do for air-conditioning!) Not the way I planned to spend the day, but it was fun watching the problem solving process going on around us (often at full volume!). Praise God for the Gambian way of helping out anyone in trouble.

Expecting the unexpected

2010-06-19T10:46:00.002Z

When you live in Africa you have to be ready for anything! Sometimes that means being ready for the snake that's curled up on your front steps, or the waterbed springing a leak, but other times it means a party that breaks out when you least expect it! All three of these things have happened to me in the last week. Fortunately the snake was scared of me too, so he slithered away so quickly he seemed to barely touch the ground. I woke up this morning when I rolled into the puddle of water made by my leaking waterbed. Ahh...refreshing...well, not really. The best part of the week though was the party that broke out when I went to visit one of our literacy classes.

The literacy class season is winding down, so Amadou, Gibril and I were visiting classes this week helping them with the dying part of the tie and dye they've been learning. One class was very excited about their projects and ladies were breaking out in dance when they saw their finished products. That was fun, but as the work was wrapping up they got serious about their celebrating. The empy jugs and bowls were brought out and the drumming began. They sang many songs and praised Amadou, Gibril and I in the songs. All the women were clapping along and a few at a time would jump into the middle of the circle of clapping women to dance. As some stepped out and others stepped in. Some carried their tie and dye material and waved it around as they danced. After a while of dancing, they called me to come and dance...I refused telling them that I can't dance (which is not a lie--you have to see their dancing to understand!). So they continued singing and clapping and dancing until they decided that it was time for their guests to eat lunch. We were led into a small room where they had two kinds of rice dishes for us and juice to drink after we ate. They had fed us breakfast when we got there, served attaya and milk while the dying was going on and now they were giving us lunch. This group of ladies really knows how to show African hospitality! This is not the first time this has happened and probably won't be the last. Africans are very hospitable and LOVE to party. Days like this are just one reason why I love living in Africa.

Home again

2010-05-25T21:17:00.002Z

Volcanoes and floods and ferries, oh my! I am back in The Gambia again! I had to change my flight because of the volcano in Iceland and then the day before my re-scheduled flight was due to leave Nashville, Nashville got hit with the biggest flood it had ever seen. Was someone trying to tell me something??? After safely arriving (on almost empty planes--yippee, lots of room to stretch out), the driver bringing the car across the river on the ferry to get me had to wait in a horribly long line. I was glad that the line going the other way was much shorter.

I am working on re-tiling my sister Ruth's old apartment which I will be moving into. The men are digging out the old tile now and the tile guy will arrive next week. I will try to put some pictures up soon.

The word is out in the village that I am back. Today I had a houseful of people. Over a dozen kids of all sizes and at least 10 women were in my house this afternoon. I am so glad to be back in The Gambia. I didn't realize how much I missed everyone until I saw them again.

Now that I'm back and have a decent internet connection I will try to post more regularly. If I don't, you have my permission to bug me. Talk to you later.

Thanksgiving

2009-11-25T15:40:00.004Z

Happy Thanksgiving, everyone!

I wrote a wonderful, insightful post a few minutes ago, but the internet gremlins snatched it away before I could add the pictures. I refuse to recreate it, so you'll have to take my word for the fact that it was wonderful. Just kidding. ;-)

I just wanted to take the time to wish you all a good Thanksgiving and if you don't live in a place that sets aside a day to thank God for all that He does for you, then take some time today to be grateful. A little gratitude and thanksgiving every day is good for the soul. God loves me and you with a perfect and everlasting love. Even the bad or painful things in our lives are ultimately for our good, so I choose to be thankful for them (or at least I try!).

For those of you who missed the fall colors this year, I am posting some pictures so that you can enjoy some of the color that I enjoyed this year.

Iwill try to get back to posting more regularly even before I return to The Gambia. Thanks for your patience.

The spammers have found my blog, so I had to close the door on anonymous comments. Sorry for the inconvenience. I do enjoy hearing your feedback, so please jump through the necessary hoops to comment.

Tribute to Mom

2009-04-08T14:03:00.003Z

On Friday, January 1, 2009 I received word that my mother had been taken to the hospital after a severe stroke and was not expected to live. Receiving this kind of news is never easy, but when you are sitting in a remote African village with a limited number of flights available every week, it's devastating. After calling the family, we decided that I would try to get a seat on the next flight out which would leave on Sunday and arrive on Monday evening. The Lord intervened and helped me get the last seat available on both my flights and I arrived at the hospital around 10:30 pm Monday. Mom was still alive, much to everyone's surprise, and the family was planning to bring her home the following morning on hospice care.

After greeting Mom, (she was not able to respond) I was chatting with my family when my sister, Ruth, noticed that Mom's breathing had changed. Within 30 minutes of my arrival at her bedside, my mom went to be with the Lord. The following is a tribute written by my dad and published in our local paper.

The Expositor

DECADE8

February 2009 page 7

She had wanted to be a missionary, but it never happened - or did it?

Submitted by Glenn Tompkins

Helen Tompkins (1926-2009) was a housewife with a quiet disposition and a sweet smile. She taught Sunday School, Vacation Bible School and Bible studies, as well as being a partner with her husband in his ministry as a pastor, teacher and evangelist. She taught people to read as a volunteer with the Literacy Volunteers and spent time helping women with a variety of needs. She had a tender heart, always willing to help others. She also spent time playing the violin, keyboard and psaltery and praying for her children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren.

She raised five children. This was her m;uor ministry.

The oldest, Richard, went to serve his

country and was killed in a motorcycle accident in Thailand at the age of 21.

Nancy, her oldest daughter, works in the field of social work with children and families. In addition, she is a Sunday School teacher, wife and mother, volunteer at a local domestic violence shelter and well respected by everyone.

Bob has worked as a repairman for mobile homes and recreational vehicles, but his main work is a ministry in Mexico, Serve and Build Hope Ministry (www. sbhministryJaithsite.com). He and his wife go into Mexico spreading the gospel through teaching the good news of Jesus Christ, helping with physical needs of the people and teaching English. Most recently their work has expanded to building a school where vocational skills will

be taught in addition to English and Bible lessons.

Ruth is a Nurse Practitioner who spent 20 years in The Gambia, West Africa, with the Association of Baptists for World Evangelism (ABWE), using medical missions to reach the Wo!of people for the Lord. She was one of the fi rst career missionary with ABWE in The Gambia, pioneering this new work using medicine to meet people's physical needs so that they will have the relationship and opportunity to tell the people of God's love for them and the great gift of salvation that He has provided. Currently, she works as a medical consultant to missionaries around the world from the mission's home office in Harrisburg, Pa.

Joanne, her youngest, is also a mission-

ary with ABWE, working as a literacy specialist in The Gambia, West Africa. Her work is to teach the Wolof people to read and write in their own language. She also writes literature to teach the Bible and truths of God's Word to the Wolof people. The physical needs of the people are great due to poverty and drought. Recently, she helped to raise funds to buy 100 pounds of rice for each home in the village where she lives and works (http://gambiathoughts. blogspot.com).

In addition to her five children, she has nine grandchildren and 10 great-grandchildren.

Helen Tompkins has had a rich, full life touching people throughout the country and around the world.

Was she a missionary?

Back on line

2009-04-08T13:58:00.002Z

I'm sure many of you have been wondering where I've been and why I haven't been posting on the blog. Well, my internet connection in The Gambia got really bad and I could hardly send simple emails much less uploading pictures etc.

I am back in the U.S. now on furlough for the next year and I'm enjoying my sister's wireless connection. I'm going to get spoiled!!!

I will try to catch up with some posts about what has been happening during the last few months. It has been crazy!

Attack of the banana trees

2008-11-08T18:39:00.003Z

Sometimes when we travel to Banjul as a group, we have strange experiences. With 4 people making purchases to bring back to Ndungu Kebbeh with us, you never know what might be in the car on the way home. Here's an example.

Here I am riding along in the shade of a banana tree.

Deb, attacked by her own tree!

Suellen at the oasis.Teresa chillin' with the shades.

I have heard reports that the trees are doing well. Maybe we'll even get some banana out of the deal!

The Walls are UP!

2008-11-08T18:25:00.003Z

When Deb returned from furlough, we evaluated our finances and decided that we should go ahead with the construction of the literacy center office/literature production/training facility. With prices constantly on the rise, we are looking at it costing more as time goes by, so we are moving ahead and trusting the Lord to complete it. We have the money in hand that we originally estimated that we would need, but the actual cost will certainly be different. Meanwhile, however, we are paying rent on a building that is going to fall down around our ears one of these days so we need to get out soon before we are forced to put money into repairs. (Our landlord doesn't have money to repair it. We have done all the repairs since moving in 15 years ago.)

The great news is that Ted Weinberg and his wife (ABWE projects manager) is going to be able to come for two months and bring 2 work teams to finish the building for us. Hurray!! If all goes according to plan, we should be able to be moved into the new building before I go on furlough at the end of March. Running the literacy program alone will be much easier for Deb when the office, nursery school and library are back together on the same compound.

Rice day

2008-11-08T17:24:00.002Z

Well, this happened a while ago now, but I wanted to be sure to get it on the blog. Better late than never.

The day of the great rice distribution dawned hot and sunny. It would a long hot day in the sun, but at least the rice wouldn't get wet or the distribution postponed. The Village Development Committee showed up bright and early with some of their teenage boys to help with loading and unloading. We filled 3 vehicles with rice and set out with our lists. Each vehicle carried a missionary, a member of the VDC and some "muscle". Others stayed behind to help re-load vehicles as they finished their deliveries. We had to deliver over 300 bags of rice that day!! The pick-up and the Nissan only carried about 15 bags at a time, but the ambulance was a workhorse, carrying 25 bags at a time. Still that's a lot of trips for re-loading.

As we pulled up to a compound and honked the horn, people popped out everywhere to see if the rice was for them. With a village this big, we had to have lists of people who were supposed to receive the rice and upon delivery, they had to sign or in most cases, put their thumbprint on our paper to acknowledge receipt of the rice. Some danced and clapped as we unloaded their rice. Others were more restrained in our presence, but we heard later that they danced after we left :-)

Men were slinging bags over their shoulder. Women were teaming up to drag their bags into the compound. I watched 3 little pre-schoolers gather around a bag of rice tugging away (they were rescued by their father). People were overjoyed. Many people told us that until we arrived with the rice, they had no food in their compound. Others simply said, "You have no idea what you really did by giving out that rice at that time."

Our purpose in giving out the rice, besides feeding hungry people, was to demonstrate the compassion of Christ to our Muslim neighbors. By making sure that the distribution was done in a righteous manner and that there was a missionary present with every sack that was given out, we wanted to show people true Christianity. People in our area need food, but their greatest need is Christ. With every bag of rice, we gave a letter expressing our friendship with the people of Ndungu Kebbeh and a booklet developed by missionaries in Senegal that gives a brief overview of the gospel from creation to Christ. Deb and I put our phone numbers on the booklets so that anyone with a question could contact us. Many people used the phone numbers to thank us, but a few have mentioned the letter and the book. As the distribution went on, we saw people all over town looking at the books. Those who can't read, found someone to read it to them. God's Word went to every family in Ndungu Kebbeh that day.

Since that time, we have been able to purchase more rice and do distributions to all of our employees (we have almost 65 of them!) and to approximately 8 other villages. Most of the villages around us are much smaller than NK so the rice went a long ways with each family provider getting a half sack of rice. Booklets were given out in each of those villages as well. Only eternity will tell us what impact this project had on our area. Thanks to all of you who contributed and prayed for us.

Rice, anyone?

2008-08-27T09:03:00.003Z

The rainy season is a very difficult time for people here in The Gambia. Food and money are scarce, mud brick houses fall in the rains, malaria is rampant and people are trying to work in the fields to grow the millet and peanut crops that will help feed their families for the coming year. We knew that this year would be harder than usual because for the past two years the crops have been very poor and prices for basic foods like rice continue to rise. We have seen the price of rice go from D550/100 lb. bag to D885/100 lb. bag in the last 6 months. That's a change from $27.50 to $44.25. An average size family will need 1 or 2 of these bags a month, but most people don't have enough income to afford to buy 2. They might be able to scrape together enough to buy one bag, but most people end up having to buy it from the local shops by the cup. This is more expensive in the long run, but it's easier to get D50 for 10 cups of rice for your lunch today, than it is to come up with D885.

It is not unusual for me to have someone at my door saying, "I don't have any money for lunch for our compound today." or "We didn't eat lunch yesterday and I don't have anything for lunch today." This year we are seeing that even people who normally have no trouble feeding their families are struggling and our ability to help is also reduced by the high prices and poor exchange rate.

A few months ago, we started praying that God would touch the hearts of people in Europe and America to help us with money to purchase rice to distribute to our village, our employees and as money permits, to some small villages that surround our village. God is answering our prayers. Since June, we have received a little more than $19,000. In the pictures below, you will see what was purchased with that money.

Early Tuesday morning I heard the distinctive low rumble of a heavily loaded truck creeping down the rutted, washed-out road that leads to our compound. "The rice is here!", I said to myself and sure enough, I look out the window and see the groaning truck pull into our compound. Now that's a load!

The local shopkeeper, (my Gambian "son") who made the purchase, brought along 6 men to unload the rice and put it in a house for safekeeping until we can distribute it. It had been raining almost constantly for several days so the ground is too soft for the truck to venture any farther inside the compound. The rice had to be carried quite a ways by hand (well, by head actually). So the men started the human conveyor.

Look, ma, no hands!

Inside an empty house, the men started stacking the rice while the shopkeeper and I kept track of how many bags had been brought. They put them in stacks of 12 so it was easy to count. I should have gotten a picture of the guys getting that top bag of rice on the stack, but I didn't.

Since the truck was so far from where the rice was being stored, one of the unloaders had a great idea. He went and brought his cow cart from home so that they could load the cart instead of carrying every single bag one at a time from the truck to the house.

When the cart was full it would pull up to the door and in no time there would be another stack in the room.
I couldn't really get a picture that showed all 450 bags of rice, but you get the idea.

Deb and I will be doing the distribution to Ndungu Kebbeh tomorrow. We will be using 3 vehicles and delivering a bag to every person in our village that is responsible for food provision. That will account for about 310 of these bags. In a little while, we will give each of our employees a bag (that will account for about 65 bags, we have a lot of employees). We are praying that money will continue to come in so that we can buy more rice and take some to other villages. If you want to participate, you can send to The Gambia Rice Project at ABWE.

We are doing more than handing out food though. Every bag of rice will be accompanied by a small booklet in Wolof which explains God's plan of salvation from creation to Christ. Our desire is to see people receive Jesus, the bread of life.

Victory in Death

2008-08-23T11:32:00.004Z

Those of you who regularly read this blog may remember the name Ndey. She was one of the women who went to Dakar with me for the Wolof Consultation in March.

While I was on vacation I got the sad news that she had passed away. She had not been well for over a year and so when she contracted an illness, she was taken to the hospital and died the same day. Since I was on vacation not far from where the funeral would be held, I attended the funeral with Nola and Abby.

The rain was just starting as we got into the car to go to the funeral, but before we arrived at the church, it was raining so hard it was hard to see where we were going. We didn't know exactly where the church was, but we did know the general area. Unfortunately many of the streets were under water. As we pulled into the road that the church is on, we saw a river of water rushing down the road, so we pulled off the road and walked the rest of the way to the church. By the time we arrived, we were soaked through, but found that the rain had not prevented people from filling the large meeting room in order to pay their respects to this valiant Christian woman.

Ndey left Islam to follow Jesus years ago in the face of much adversity from her family, but she never looked back. She was a strong believer, married to a man from another west African country who was pastoring a WEC church. She was active with the Christian community in The Gambia and well-known for speaking her mind about what was right. At the time of her death, she was only 38 years old and leaves a husband and two sons under 11.

Although getting to the funeral was difficult and like most people, I hate funerals, I'm glad I didn't miss this one. As a whole roomful of African believers sang the song "In Christ Alone", I watched their faces. The joy of the Lord was in that room and even the bereaved husband couldn't help but lift his hands in praise to God as he sang about Christ dying and rising from the dead. Tears ran down my face as I witnessed this outpouring of praise by people who have been rescued from death and hell by the power of Jesus Christ. What a contrast to the funerals that I normally attend of people who have no confidence of heaven. My Muslim friends and neighbors even if they were the most faithful Muslims in the world know that their religion doesn't give them any promises of heaven. I can't begin to describe my joy at Ndey's life and testimony of her faith in Christ and my prayer that God will raise up many more like her in days to come.

Ndey's family and friends attended the funeral and clearly heard the good news of salvation in Jesus Christ as it was preached in both English and Wolof. I pray that Ndey's death will bring even greater victory by bringing her family to be followers of Jesus as well.

Memories

2008-08-20T10:02:00.003Z

The other day I was watching a young boy play with my old basketball. He was having a good time just rolling it around on the floor of my living room as his mother and I talked. As I watched, I started thinking about how old that basketball is and where I got it. When I was in sixth grade, my church was having its annual Vacation Bible School. My father was running it as he often did, so there was a contest for the children. You could earn points for attendance, bringing visitors and memorizing Scripture passages (not just little one verse sections, but ones 8-10 verses in length). At the end of the week the highest point earner would get first choice from a selection of prizes. Now I had gone with my father when he went shopping for prizes, so I knew what I had my eye on.

Since I had a prize in mind and generally being a competitive sort, I worked really hard during Bible school, memorizing and reciting 30-40 verses. At the end of the week, I came in second to the boy who lived next door to the church and could get all his friends from the neighborhood to at least come one time. I sat in agony while he went to choose his prize. To my relief, he didn't choose the prize that I wanted, so when my name was called I hurried to the front to claim my hard earned prize...a basketball. Everyone gasped as I claimed my prize. I am not the athletic type so no one ever dreamed that I would choose a basketball, but that was the prize that I had set my heart on when I saw my father purchasing it.

Now 30+ years later, that basketball is with me here in Africa, being used as part of my ministry to women and children. Who would have dreamed that a prize earned in that long ago Vacation Bible School would be enjoyed by African children (and sometimes even their mothers)!

Motorcycles- yippee!

2008-08-19T09:47:00.004Z

I bought two motorcycles in May. No, I have no intention of riding either one of them!

In our literacy program with have two Gambian men who supervise the literacy classes, making regular visits and delivering pays and supplies to the teachers in the villages. The motorcycles they were using were getting to be almost 10 years old and breaking down ALL the time.
Since I supervise the literacy classes and handle the money, I was getting really tired of arranging to get motorcycles repaired. Praise the Lord, we had a sudden surge of gifts for motorcycle purchases so we were able to buy them and none too soon. The day before we were going to have the men go to town and pick them up, I had to send one man to a meeting. We didn't really trust the motorcycle, but someone had to attend the meeting. Sure enough, about 7 pm that evening, the man arrives at my house on foot because the motorcycle had broken down on the way home. We sent a driver with the pick-up truck to pick up the broken down bike and take the man home. He was thrilled to hear that he could go the very next day and pick up the new motorcycle. We were all cheering as the new motorcycles roared into the yard at the Literacy Center the next day.

Rainbows and Sunsets

2008-08-19T09:35:00.002Z

We are in the midst of the rainy season here. The rains have been abundant this year and the farmers are hopeful that the crops will be good. The rainy season is a time of high humidity, but at least here in Ndungu Kebbeh it cools off with each rain storm. (It rains almost every day during August.) With the additional moisture in the air, this time of year also gives us gorgeous sunsets and even the occasional rainbow. I thought I'd show you some beautiful moments I managed to capture.

No, I'm not lost

2008-06-08T19:07:00.000Z

Just wanted to reassure you all that I'm not lost, sick, kidnapped or dead. It's worse than that...well, not really. Our internet/phone connections are AWFUL right now. Just trying to get to this page to post this brief blog, I was disconnected at least a dozen times. Sooo...don't give up on me, I'll be back to blogging as soon as I can. Keep checking in and I'll try to keep you informed.

The Experiment

2008-04-20T18:05:00.004Z

Quite a while ago I commented that I needed some new Gambian outfits, but I didn't want to go to the luma to buy material. I decided to conduct an experiment to see if I could ask a Gambian friend to go and choose material for me. The material was not expensive (about 50 cents a yard), so if she bought something that I absolutely hated, I would just give it away.

I decided to ask my housekeeper Jatou to buy my material. She washes my clothes by hand, folds them and irons them, so I figure if anyone knows my taste in clothes, she does. I gave her money enough for material for 3 outfits and the only thing I told her was, "Nothing red!". In Wolof, red can mean red, orange, pink or even a bright yellow, so I figured I was safe. So she went to market and I stayed home. That afternoon she brought me her purchases for inspection. I thought she did a great job! I was a little uncertain of the one with the green splotches, but it turned out okay.

Next, I called my tailor. Yes, he makes housecalls. He has been making my Gambian clothes since 1993 so he know what I like. Most of the time I don't even tell him what style I what. I might direct him toward the kind of trim, but mostly I give him the material and say, "Make me something nice, but not too fancy."

So here is the final product. The tailor happened to bring the outfit on an afternoon when Jatou was working, so I handed her the camera made her take the picture. Not bad for someone who has probably never even held a camera before!

One of the pieces of material I decided to have made into a tubaab dress (Western style) and so I chose a different tailor. I am still waiting for that to be finished. The tailor's teenage son was killed in the bush last Sunday when a tree fell on him, so the tailor hasn't been working this week.

Wolof Consultation 2

2008-04-12T20:15:00.003Z

Just a few more comments about the Wolof Consultation. God truly worked out all of the details involved with attending. When I received the invitation, my first thought was, "I would really love to go, but I can't go if I'm the only missionary from the Gambia going." When none of my teammates could go, I thought that I would have to stay home too. With the chronic fatigue, I knew that I couldn't use public transport or drive myself, attend the meetings and than turn around and come home. I might have been able to do it, but I can't count on having the strength to do all of that. As I was mourning the fact that I couldn't go, I had an idea which was clearly from the Lord. What was the main hindrance to me going? Someone to drive the car. So why not hire a driver? After tossing the idea around with my teammates, we decided that we would try to do that.

I knew BC wanted to go, so that would put someone else in the car besides me and the driver, but I wanted some women along too. I knew there were two Wolof believers active in ministry in the Banjul area so I got in touch with them. They also wanted to attend, but one of them had been sick and wasn't sure her doctor would allow her to make the trip. Within days though, both had confirmed that they were coming with me. (Ndey, who is not well, was only able to attend because I was taking a car. Adama also told me that if I hadn't been going, she wasn't planning on it.) So I made our room reservations for the conference and made the arrangements with the driver.

Bright and early Tuesday morning, BC, TF and I head to the ferry terminal to pick up Ndey and Adama. We buy breakfast and turn north toward Senegal. The trip was going smoothly when all of sudden a policeman jumps out in front of the car. He says TF was speeding ( he probably was). Of course everyone in my car jumps out to beg for mercy, but there would be no mercy from this man. Even when I got out and greeted, he ignored me. The system in Senegal is that you pay your ticket on the spot. If you don't have the money, you have to leave your license until you pay the fine. The drivers of two other cars that were stopped after us, paid their fines and left. The police officer told us that we couldn't pay him because his receipt book was finished. He held TF's license and told us we had to pay the fine in Mbour, a large town farther up the road. I tried to ask the man how far it was to Mbour, but he wouldn't even look at me. He just shooed us away. So, what else could we do? We went to Mbour which turned out to be about 20 km (12-13 miles) up the road.

As we pulled into town, we stopped to ask a man for directions to the police station. He was friendly, but the directions were complicated. We did the Senegambian thing and asked if he could get in the car and go with us to the police station. He graciously agreed. On the way to the station, we told him the whole story. At the station, he went in with "the gang" to try to help them. (I stayed in the car since although many Senegalese don't like Gambians, if they see a tubaab - white person, they will immediately ask for more money or demand a bribe.) The police had obviously received a phone call from the officer who stopped us, because they too ignored us and said that their receipts were finished. We would have to go back and pay in the place where we were stopped. So back we go, I'm having visions of having to go back and forth between these two villages all afternoon, but God had already put us together with the man to help us. The man that we asked directions from went with us all the way back to where we were stopped. When we found the village, the police car was gone. He got out and asked around until he discovered where the police were having lunch. He and TF found the policemen at lunch and they were shocked to see him with TF. The man that helped us owns a trucking company, so he and his drivers drive that route all the time. The policeman that stopped us was a friend of his. So we were able to pay the fine, get TF's license back and continue on our way. Some might say that it was coincidence that led us to ask that man for directions, but I know that God led us to the person who could help us.

We arrive in Dakar around rush hour. (TF isn't used to traffic, so it took nerves of steel to let him drive. I now sympathize with parents letting their children drive in traffic the first time.) Finally we arrive at the conference center, a beautiful spot at the foot of a lighthouse with a cool ocean breezes.

That's when the next snafu hit. I had called and made reservations, but my name wasn't on the list. The watchman handling room placement had to call the boss and have him come back to handle the situation. I had reserved dormitory spaces for 3 women and 2 men, but they evidently hadn't written it down. When the boss came, he came and greeted me saying, "You're the one I talked to from The Gambia." So, he remembered talking to me, but hadn't reserved the rooms. He was able to fit the men into the men's dorm rooms, but he didn't have a women's dorm room for us. We ended up in a large apartment for 2 nights and in a dorm room for the last 2 nights. That was okay with us! We got an apartment for dormitory rates! (We paid approx. $4 person/night.)

These were my roommates. From left to right, Adama, Ndey and Blondin. Blondin is a Senegalese believer who ended up in with us when the reservation for her and her husband was messed up.
This was our dorm room. Think camping. The restroom was outside and down the building. The facilities were good though- flush toilets, showers. There was even a kitchen across the driveway that was left open until about midnight. As you can see, this is camping in the tropics, complete with mosquito nets. (We didn't use them.)
Saturday morning we head for home with TF driving much more slowly. We left BC in Dakar to participate in a music workshop, but we carry along a man who will go most of the way through Senegal with us. It was nice to have a Senegalese in the car in case of difficulties. If nothing else, he could help us with the money! (Using Wolof with Senegalese CFA is really a pain, so most people use French when dealing with money. I'm not comfortable with French numbers though so I have to do it the hard way. ) For example, the 5000 CFA bill (worth about 250 dalasi or $12), if you use French, you just say 5000 in French. In Wolof, however, you don't say 5000, you say 1000. You have to divide the number by 5 and that's what you say in Wolof. So in the restaurant, the meal was 800 CFA but I don't understand when they said that in French, so they have to tell me how much it is in Wolof 160. For me to know what money to give them, I have to multiply it by 5 and give them money totalling CFA 800. Fun, huh. Of course, we're all busy figuring how much it is costing in dalasi to make sure it's not too expensive. It's enough to tie your brain in knots. Next time, I really need to brush up on my French numbers before I go.

We traveled all the way home in a haze of harmattan dust. Praise the Lord for an air-conditioned car. The trip went smoothly and we arrived at the ferry terminal just in time for the ladies to get on a ferry and TF and I headed for Ndungu Kebbeh. Since only TF and I were in the car, I told him to watch for someone to pick up because I didn't want to arrive alone in the car with him and have people think that the two of us went to Dakar together. Within 2-3 minutes, we see a high school girl that I know, standing by the road. We were past all the people and I was getting nervous that we had missed our chance to find someone, but the Lord even provided someone to protect my reputation. By 3:30 pm we were home and although I was tired, I wasn't completely exhausted. Praise the Lord for answered prayer. (Of course, I arrived home to find that the harmattan dust was now completely covering the inside of my house!)

Wolof Consultation

2008-04-12T19:27:00.003Z

Wow, it has been so long since I've blogged, I don't know where to start. In the past few weeks I have been to Dakar and to Banjul, helped a high schooler get back into school after being suspended for the rest of the year, picked up my co-worker Deb from the airport and of course done my regular work on days when I was actually home. I guess I'll start with the Wolof Consultation.

It has been a few years since I had the opportunity to attend the Wolof Consultation in Dakar, Senegal. This annual conference is usually held in the spring and attended by missionaries working with the Wolof people as well as Senegalese and Gambian believers who are also seeking to reach the Wolof people for Christ. Getting to join together with Africans and fellow missionaries to worship and learn more about reaching the Wolof people is such an exciting opportunity. In this ministry, we need the reminders that we are not alone. As people develop tools in Wolof, they bring them to the consultation to share. We hear testimonies of Wolof Christians and what God is doing in their lives and in their families. Often there are a few Christians from the U.S. who are part of the Wolof Connection, churches who have made the Wolof people a main focus of prayer. Concentrated prayer is the most important tool in reaching the Wolof people.

The consultation is now entirely organized by Africans. These two men have been instrumental in moving the Senegalese church forward. On the left is Malick Fall, a Wolof who has been a faithful believer for over 20 years. He is the teacher on the radio broadcast Yoonu Njub (The Way of Righteousness). He recently saw his two older sons baptized, so we are beginning to see a second generation of Christians in Senegal. The man on the right works with the Senegalese mission called Inter-Senegal which is actively working to plan churches in Senegal using Senegalese believers.

Paul Bramsen is a Plymouth Brethren missionary who has worked in Senegal for many years. He established Yoonu Njub and discipled Malick Fall who has now taken over that ministry. Paul is based in the U.S. now, but makes regular trips back to Senegal. Other than a couple of musicians, Paul was the only non-African to lead any sessions. Now that's exciting to see.

For those of you who may be wondering, the conference was conducted entirely in French and Wolof. If the main speaker was more comfortable in Wolof, it was interpreted into French and vice versa. Sometimes I had to wave my hands and remind them that some of us don't speak French because at least one of the speakers kept forgetting to stop for his interpreter (or interrupter as my father would say).

The picture above shows one of the most exciting, moving times of the conference as the man in red gave his testimony of how he came to Christ as an adult with older children, was kicked out of the family compound, but now has 2 sons who are also believers. One of his sons is standing on the left, interpreting for his father. After his father finished his testimony, the son, in tears said, " I never had anyone that I considered a role model before, but now, my father is my role model." This man's wife is not yet a believer, but he thinks that she is starting to show some interest.

Face book

2008-03-23T16:59:00.002Z

Sorry, everyone, I haven't posted in a long time. I have been exploring something new in the internet world-- Facebook. When I first signed up, I regretted it and thought that I would never use it because it is kind of, well, weird. I decided though that I needed to stick with it and see what it was really like before I gave up. Sooo... that is what I have been doing these last few weeks instead of blogging.

Now that I have some friends on Facebook and even found some relatives that I never hear from, I have decided that Facebook is worth my time. In these few weeks, I have been in contact with people that I haven't heard from in years. That alone makes it worth the time I spent getting it set up and finding friends. Now that I have it going, I am hoping that I will be able to use it, but not get consumed by it. If any of you also Facebook, get in touch. You can find me on The Gambia network (yes, believe it or not, The Gambia has a network).

One of my nephews now wants me to get signed up with gmail so I can chat with him. One thing leads to another... So I now have that account too. Look for ajisuun.

These things are great for someone like me who is far away from family and friends, but I can also see the danger of getting swallowed up in the virtual world and forgetting how to interact in the real one. Fortunately, I have the steady stream of people at my door to prevent that from happening.

I have some other things I want to blog about-- Easter, the clothes experiment and other miscellaneous topics, but I need to work on the photos first. I will be traveling to Dakar, Senegal on Tuesday and not returning until Saturday, so don't expect any new posts during that time.

Office Opportunities

2008-03-08T21:16:00.001Z

Joanne’s Jottings

News from The Gambia, West Africa

March 2008

I never would have thought that a small, cluttered office would end up being a hub of personal ministry. From my office at the Literacy Center, where I work from Monday through Friday from 8:30 AM. until 2 PM, I direct the programs of the literacy center, handle the finances and talk to people who come to my door. The office, with my employees coming and going, provides a place where I can have serious conversations, even with men, and not risk gossip. With no missionary men in NK, this is vital.

In the past week, these are some of the conversations that I’ve had in my office:

A woman has been struggling with depression for several months since the death of her daughter. She comes to my office to get out of her house and have a safe place to cry. If I don’t see her at least once a week, I start getting concerned.
A young woman continues to struggle with her husband’s neglect of her and their children. He is actively seeking a second wife and is known to be involved with other women. I listen and encourage her to pray for him and not stoop to his level.
A man comes to receive his pay and starts talking about how the world is full of problems. We discuss how Adam and Eve’s sin brought trouble into the world and that we are still seeing the effects of their sin as well as our own.
Another man, a believer, comes with some questions about Scripture he is reading. I answer his questions and take the opportunity to challenge him regarding accountability with another male believer.
A woman who was widowed and remarried recently (to her late husband’s brother) comes to inform me that her husband is angry at her and the children so he is not providing food for them. He is trying to put the family compound in his name, but his brother’s sons should inherit the compound. He is threatening to knock down the cement houses that he built on the land. Today she returned to let me know that the husband has relented and is providing food again for her and the children. Peace returns, at least for now.
A man tells me that he wants me to send him to America. Of course, I tell him that I can’t do that. He responds that he will become a Christian and starts telling me that God just wants a clean heart. Hearing my opening, I jump and explain that our righteousness is like filthy rags and that the only way to have a clean heart is by trusting in Jesus Christ. He let me explain the gospel to him. Whatever his motivation, God’s Word is powerful.
A man has been reading a book on evangelism (he found it somewhere) and wanted me to explain the words wrath and redeemed. I explained them fully, probably more fully than he wanted as he also had ulterior motives.

God has a plan for The Gambia. Please pray with us for God’s plan to be fulfilled in God’s time. In the hard times and the easy times, our only responsibility is to be obedient. God alone is responsible for the results.

Serving by grace,

Joanne

Invitation

2008-03-07T17:38:00.002Z

This post is specifically for Amanda, but the rest of you can read it too. (I'm getting used to that kind of thing since I got on Facebook.)

The SPTs have been pondering your situation with Brad's coming deployment and we feel that we have arrived at the perfect solution. We are hereby extending you an invitation to join the Sisters of Perpetual Togetherness here in Ndungu Kebbeh for the duration of Brad's deployment.

Now doesn't that sound more fun than staying home alone? Hey, you would at least be on the same continent as your husband (still 3000 miles apart, but hey...). You would have the support and entertainment provided by the sisters, the sisters would have your two too cute children to play with and you could work on writing the by-laws for the sisterhood. We have had requests for other chapters, but we've been too busy to write the by-laws.

We know some of the basics:
1. SPTs support each other through thick and thin, when one feels weak, the rest step in.
2. SPTs like to have a good time. Even meetings turn into fun.
3. SPTs function as a unit, aware of and accepting each others strengths and weaknesses.
4. SPTs pray together regularly.

That's all we have so far, although we have discussed the dues that all other members/chapters will be required to send to the founding chapter members. We haven't set an amount yet, but all fees may be paid in M&M's or their equivalent. :-)

So, what do you think? Sounds good, huh?

No matter what, find some SPTs to help you through Brad's deployment. The SPTs here in NK will be supporting you.

I Have Decided Not to Run

2008-03-04T20:31:00.002Z

Today my employees were talking about American politics. Of course, with the hotly contested Democrat race all over the news, they were discussing Hillary and Barack Obama. I happened to poke my head into the room, so they asked me who I would vote for if I was there. I answered that I didn't want either Hillary or Obama because I was a Republican. Then I commented that I didn't like the person that the Republicans had selected either, but he was better than Hillary or Obama. They wanted to know who I had wanted to win the Republican nomination, but I didn't figure they had probably heard of Fred Thompson, so I just said that I wasn't very happy with any of the people that ran.

They told me that I should run for president myself. So I am stating at this time that I have decided not to run. They did, however, say that since I have been in Africa so long, I might be too Fana-fana to run for president. Fana-fana is a Wolof redneck. A person from the rural areas that is not quite up on what life is like in the big city. They commented that my Wolof clothes, complete with head tie, might be seen as fana-fana. They were also sure that people in America would think that I was ill most of the time because even on days that are considered warm in America, I would have a cloth wrapped around me as I shivered (below 75-80 degrees is sweater weather in my book). They thought that my campaign should serve bennachin (Wolof rice), but people would find it unusual and probably unexceptable when I ate it with my right hand. I told that I didn't think I should run because when I go to America I find that when I am speaking English, I get stuck for the English word and use Wolof instead. Some things are just easier to say in Wolof!

So, although my employees suggested that I run for president of the United States, we all agreed in the end that I am just too Fana-fana. And that's just the way I want to be.

Saturday

2008-03-01T18:29:00.002Z

For those of you who like to know, today's weather is hot and hazy with hot, dry breezes. The temperature in the shade at 5 pm was 104 degrees.

I often think that if I were to fall into a coma and awaken suddenly on a Saturday morning here in Ndungu Kebbeh I would know immediately that it was Saturday. Saturday is market day in NK so the road outside my living room window gets busy early. The horse and donkey carts trot by with their bells jingling while passengers call out greetings to those on other carts and in the doorways of compounds they pass. Carts are piled high with goods to be sold and people dressed in beautiful outfits. The day is a social event as much as it is about buying and selling. Mopeds, motorcycles and bicycles also join the parade. Ladies from nearby villages save themselves the fare and walk, often with a tub or bucket of goods on their heads. A Peace Corp volunteer living in a nearby village pedals by, but slows at the gate of our compound. The market is another kilometer, but he will park his bike here where our guards will keep an eye on it and continue on foot.

Of course, the sounds of Saturday are also different because the children in the government schools are off. On school days, the road is filled will children on their way to school. Saturdays are school days for the children enrolled in the Arabic school right next door to our compound. We can hear them reciting throughout the morning.

Children of all ages will head for the market if they can. Small children this far outside of town might not go, but it depends on how strict their parents are and if they have older siblings who are going. Small children wander quite freely here. It is not uncommon to see a 3-4 year-old wandering down the road alone. If someone gives him a dalasi (the basic unit of Gambian money- 1 equals about 5 cents), the child will go to the corner store by himself and buy some candy. Sometimes a mother will even send a small child on errands to nearby neighbors or shops.

The kids in this picture are just playing in the road as the carts go by. They probably haven't convinced their mother to let them go to the luma yet. Many kids, girls especially, hustle to the market early to see if someone will hire them to sell for the day. If they're hired, they will take a large metal plate, put some merchandise on it and wander around the market calling for people to buy. Often they are selling snacks- oranges, mangos, roasted cashew nuts or peanuts, bags of cold water, frozen juice in a bag, fried dough balls. I would show you pictures of the luma itself, but that would mean I have to go there. Sorry. Luma to me is like the mall at Christmas (only hot, dirty, crowded and smelly). Some people love the mall at Christmas; others hate it. Some missionaries love the luma (market); others hate it. I guess you can tell where I land. About once a year I end up having to go to luma. I'm thinking I should go soon, but I don't want to. I need to buy some material to have another outfit made, but I'm trying to decide who I can talk into going and buying the material for me. I know one of my Gambian friends would do it, but I need to ask someone who will buy something good. I'll let you know how that works out.

The Ferry

2008-02-23T09:49:00.005Z

Last Friday the SPTs (Sisters of Perpetual Togetherness) had to make a trip into "civilization" for meetings. Trips to the big city, the Greater Banjul area, have their benefits- restaurants, air-conditioning, satellite TV, grocery stores and other stores, but they also have one major drawback--the ferry crossing. While the city isn't far away, it sometimes requires a major time commitment to get there because of the wait at the ferry. A typical Banjul travel day begins early since we try to be on the road by 6AM. We drive about 17 miles to the weigh station where there may or may not be someone there to sell us our vehicle ticket. After getting our ticket, we go another couple of miles to the ferry terminal and pray that the line isn't too long yet. Last Friday, we found that the line was already formed outside the gate and around the corner, not a good sign at 7 AM. I didn't take pictures here, because we arrived at the terminal while it was still dark. Our wait that day wasn't bad. We didn't get on the first ferry, which left at 7am, but we were on the second which left around 8 am. Here's one of our lovely ferries passing the ferry that we were on.
We were parked right on the front of the ferry so I was able to take this picture across the river so you can see where we were going. Because of tides and currents, the ferry actually heads out to sea slightly instead of making a straight run across. This is the mouth of The Gambia River so the ocean currents do affect it. The crossing takes anywhere from 25 minutes to over an hour depending on the condition of the engines. It isn't unusual to go across backwards because one set of engines is better than the other.

We were on the biggest ferry. See how we are packed in. In an emergency, you would have to go out the car window.

I won't bore you with an account of all our shopping and meetings during the 5 days that we were in town. Suellen may have some accounts of the sisters' activities on her blog. Suffice it say, we went out to eat several times, enjoyed air-conditioning, TV and hot showers, purchased our supplies for the next 2 months and then had to tackle the ferry again from the other direction.

On the Banjul side, we have more things to look at we wait and we usually wait longer because we don't get up before dawn to go to the ferry. We pack the car, take care of any last minute purchases and go to get in line.

As we wait, sellers come by offering all kinds of things. Look carefully and you'll see that you really can buy almost anything while sitting in line at the ferry.
If you're really hungry and adventurous, you can even buy a meal at one of these "sidewalk cafes".

Of course the worst part of not crossing a sunrise is the long wait in the sun. On Wednesday, we got in line around 11 AM and got on the ferry around 2 pm. So for 3 hours we sat and waited in the hot midday sun. We block out the sun as much as possible while still trying to allow some air flow.

While we wait, we read, chat, sleep, eat and fend off the sellers. Some of the ladies selling clothes are very persistent because they have been selling there for years and some of the missionaries purchased from them regularly. Now they think that we all have an obligation to buy something from them.
One of the trickiest things about waiting a long time at the ferry is striking that fine balance between dehydration and having to use the bathroom. Trust me, dehydration is preferable. I usually hit this balance fairly well, but sometimes err too far into dehydration and get a headache. Even on my longest ferry wait (over 14 hours), I've never had to use the facilities at the terminal or on the ferry.

Finally we get on the ferry and head for the North Bank and home. Getting off the ferry is always a challenge as cars and foot passengers are all trying to use the ramp at the same time. Ferry workers are yelling at drivers to "Go, go, go!", while mothers with small babies on their backs and bundles on their heads are walking directly in front of the car.

Finally we clear the terminal and head for home. Just thought I would show you that we do have one paved road on our side of the river. It starts near the weigh station and continues up river for quite a ways. It runs directly past our village, so we have an easy trip. This picture is also a picture of the one that got away. I had just taken one picture and was zooming in for another when a monkey ran across the road and then another. Unfortunately, monkeys are fast and a bump in road made me take a picture of the sky instead of the monkey.

Ahhh, home, sweet home! We arrived at 3:30 PM after leaving the guesthouse at 10 AM. All in all a fairly typical trip. We don't consider a 3 hour wait all that unusual. It was extremely hot that day though. Too bad I didn't have my thermometer with me. Maybe I'll take it next time.

A weather event

2008-02-12T20:13:00.000Z

Sometimes weird weather happens even here. It's funny that just after I write about the weather, we have a weather event. I didn't exactly see it happen, but I saw the remains.

This morning we woke up to a cool, cloudy day (70's). My first thought was, "It looks and feels like rain,...but it's February!" A few minutes later, I heard a few sprinkles on the corrugate metal roof, but it wasn't enough to even see on the ground. The metal roof often makes nothing sound like something. Sprinkles like that don't happen very often, but it's not unheard of either, so I didn't think anything about it.

I had a meeting about 15 miles up the road this morning (a very boring, government sponsored "sensitisation" workshop- which in this country usually means giving information about something). As I was driving to the meeting I started noticing that the road was wet! A little further up the road and I was driving through actual puddles in the road! Just a few miles from here had a big rain and I missed it! At least I got to drive through the puddles :-)

I know, I know, what can I say? It doesn't take much to entertain me.

For those of you still trying to figure out what the event was, it was the rain storm big enough to leave puddles in the road. We are in the middle of dry season. Our dry season doesn't mean little rain, it mean NO significant rain for 6-8 months. I remember one January when it was cold and rainy for 3 days in a row, but that was so unusual, we still talk about it. Even that rain didn't leave puddles in the road. It just kind of drizzled for 3 days.

Someone told me that commenting on the blog isn't always easy, so please, keep trying. It's been fun to hear from some of you that I didn't even know were out there. I know there are more of you though. I had 30 hits and only 6 comments.

Some of you didn't do your assignment. (Said in a sing-song voice.)

A weather report

2008-02-10T15:47:00.000Z

If you ever wanted a cushy job, become a weather forecaster in The Gambia. Most of the time the forecast would be the same, sunny and hot with no chance of rain. That may be why the Gambia TV news doesn't have a weather forecast. Of course during the rainy season, the forecast would change slightly to hot and humid with a chance of showers. We do have occasional changes in the weather, but so seldom that they are more like events- dust storms, electrical storms, wind and heavy rains. When things like that happen though, we talk about it for days. Of course, we also comment on the heat and the cold and every other slight variation of weather as well. I guess we are easily entertained.

Anyway, yesterday I was noticing what a perfect day it was. The sky was "postcard blue" and a comfortable 92 degrees in the shade. In the sun was a different story. This close to the equator, even the February sun can be pretty intense. I took the thermometer outside and held it in the sun for only a few minutes and watched the temperature zoom from 92 degrees to 112 degrees. Is it any wonder that Gambians and those of us who live here, make it a point to be in the shade if at all possible? In my house, it was a cool 80-85 most of the day. Then the cool ocean breezes started in the evening. (We are about 15 miles inland, but the land is so flat, the ocean breezes reach us very nicely.) By morning it was about 68 degrees outside (brrr) and a chilly 75 degrees in the house. Nice sleeping weather! When it's that cool we cuddle under comforters to sleep and if we have to be outside for any length of time, we wear sweatshirts.

We are heading into some of the hottest days of the year (April). I will try to record some of our hottest temps. with pictures of the thermometer in case you don't believe me. I don't usually notice it being hot until it's over 100 degrees unless it is also humid, but it doesn't usually get humid until May.

Just curious

2008-02-07T21:11:00.000Z

When I first started writing this blog, I didn't know if anyone would read it, but I figured that I would give it a shot. I got some positive feedback from a few people who read it, so I've made an effort to post regularly. I really started getting excited when I put the counter on the blog page and saw that people really were reading the blog. Not tons of people, but enough to encourage me.

Now, however, I want some more feedback. If you check this blog regularly, post a comment so I know who's reading. Even if I don't know you, post a comment. That makes things even more fun! Tell me something you want me to blog about. Maybe one of my earlier blogs sparked a question in your mind. Ask me the question. I have lived here in The Gambia for a long time. Many things that seem pretty normal to me, don't seem normal to you.

Okay, all, comment away!

If I don't get any comments, I'm going to think that Lutz family logs on several times a day, just to make me feel better. :=)

The Sisterhood Observed

2008-02-02T16:37:00.000Z

One of the challenges of the sisterhood is the observation of our every activity. As you can see the simple placing of a sign drew a crowd composed of our yard workers, watchman and the shopkeeper from across the street. It was fairly early in the morning otherwise the crowd would have been much bigger. You see, our Gambian friends and neighbors find the sisterhood a bit strange. We do not deny our strange behaviors, but embrace them. Gambians, however, find the concept of women with no men strange to the point of being unbelievable, not to mention impossible. That disbelief leads to a multitude of marriage proposals to members of the sisterhood. So far the sisters have not been tempted by these offers since sharing a man (as in having 2 or 3 co-wives) and becoming a Gambian wife holds NO attraction for us.

Keep on keeping on

2008-02-02T08:57:00.000Z

Our regional administrator's wife just brought us a book that she said she wishes she could have read before going to Africa. After reading it, I agree. For those of you interested in missions and wanting to know a little bit about life and missions in West Africa, find a copy of a book called, Beyond Surrender by Barbara J. Singerman, published by Hannibal Books.

I'm sure many people wonder why the 3 women missionaries in The Gambia continue to live and minister here when people are resistant to the gospel, living conditions are difficult and work load enormous. The author of this book expresses my thoughts about the matter so well that I decided to quote her here. These ideas go against the grain of much of American Christianity, but this is the truth that we need to return to.

"I am convinced that many people forsake their calling-God's will for their lives-- when they allow their minds to think what they ought not to have been thinking. They toy with the thought, "This is too difficult for me." Gradually negativity consumes them. The lives of those suffering without Jesus lose significance. They abandon God's highest for their lives and give in to their ruling emotions.
A great danger is to walk into God's calling with the thought, "If I don't like it, I can always quit." This person will. He has already programmed himself for defeat and escape before he has begun."
Besides dumping emotions into the "too-difficult" cauldron is the tendency to swim in the boiling mud of "happiness thinking". Many Christians allow their wayward thought to determine that God wants them "happy". But God cares more about the perfection of our characters than our momentary happiness. Consider the words of Paul in 2 Corinthians 7:4, "I am overflowing with joy in all our affliction." Paul was toughing it out. This was not an easy time. Was he happy? Was he grinning every moment? Was he having fun? I doubt it. But he had joy- overflowing joy. James 1:2 exhorts us, "Consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds" (NIV). It doesn't say, "Run from the pain and by happy!" It says to considers trials as pure joy. .....
A fixation on happiness causes people to be impatient with God and to lose faith. Because of faulty "happiness" thinking they believe God is not capable of pulling them through heartache, difficulty or trauma. They think that since they aren't happy, God couldn't possibly mean for them to continue on. They bail out. Their spiritual lives are stifled. They sacrifice deep joy and contentment on the flimsy altar of temporary happiness. Don't give up. Determine to walk on through. Maintain your commitment. Be patient. At the other side is more than all you are seeking."

Barbara J. Singerman in Beyond Surrender

Sisters of Perpetual Togetherness

2008-01-31T21:14:00.000Z

Most of you know that right now on our mission station there are only 3 single ladies. So when our regional administrator and his wife were coming with another couple, we decided that they needed to be informed upon arrival that there have been some changes. The station is now Ndungu Kebbeh Abbey, the residence of the Sisters of Perpetual Togetherness. This sisterhood was formed in 2002, but was only active for a few weeks. (Suellen and I are the charter members.) Since May of 2006, however, the sisterhood has been actively in charge of this mission station. We have had 3-4 members present at a time. It's possible that by the end of 2008 we could have a record 5 members here together.

This type of sisterhood is not for everyone. The sisters work together, pray together and play together, but they do NOT share a house. That is beyond the call of duty in the eyes of all the sisters!

So in anticipation of the boss's arrival, we decided that the change in status should be announced. Here Suellen blesses the sign before it's official placement. (as Teresa, the newest member, watches, thinking, "What have I gotten myself into?")

I have been designated the Mother Superior, due to my status as charter member and senior missionary to the other two. When more senior missionaries return, I will happily relinquish my position!

Here are the 3 current members of the sisterhood. (Teresa suggested that the other name for our group could be the Ndungu Kebbeh chapter of the "Unclaimed treasures".) Of course, I would just say that the treasures have been claimed...by God and Africa.

Now for those of you that have taken any of this seriously, please don't! Our boss found it amusing and his wife wanted to stay. (He wouldn't let her though, go figure!)

I've been tagged

2008-01-26T12:18:00.001Z

A friend left me a note that I've been tagged. Now being new to the blogging world, I didn't really know what this meant. This what I have to do.

1. Post the rules and link to the person that tagged me.
2. Tell 5 random/weird things about myself.
3. List 5 places I would like to see or see again.
4. Link to 5 blogging friends and notify them on their blogs that they've been tagged.

Well, first of all, thanks a lot, Amanda. Amanda tagged me and she can be found at http://balutzfamily.blogspot.com/ I met Amanda when she came to The Gambia to teach missionary kids. That was pb (pre-Brad). Now she and her husband Brad are the parents of two cuties. Brad is in the military and will soon deploy. Amanda and I hadn't communicated in years, then we found each others blogs...and I got tagged!

5 random/weird things about me. This is a tough one. I'm pretty normal (okay, no comments out there).
1. I talk to myself (often) and in two languages.
2. I am a ventriloquist. (Now which came first number 1 or number 2? hmmm...I'll never tell.)
3. I have what my friends call a "texture thing" about foods. I won't eat foods that are "rubbery/slimy" (ie. eggs, mushrooms etc).
4. I go crazy without a book to read.
5. I hate wearing shoes. (Handy that I live in Africa rather than Alaska, huh.)

Five places I would like to see or see again.
1. I want to see all 50 states of the U.S. I have been to more than half, but I've never been out west.
2. London
3. South Africa
4. Orient-no country in particular, just that region
5. My first answer covers a lot of ground.

Now I get to tag some people. This is hard because I only know a few people who blog.

I tag Suellen a fellow blogging missionary here in The Gambia. http://suelleninthegambia.blogspot.com

I tag my nephew's girlfriend. I don't know you yet Chelsie, but welcome to the family.http://chelsieinaustralia.blogspot.com

I tag a missionary who seldom updates her blog, so I don't have much hope that she will participate. http://dusty-penquin.blogspot.com

I think that's all I can do. This was kind of fun. Although I wouldn't want to do it very often, hint, hint.

I might have a regular post later this weekend. We'll see.

House tour continued

2008-01-19T11:35:00.000Z

I decided that I hadn't shown you part of my house- the back patio. I don't get to enjoy it very often, but the flowers are pretty. The flowers and patio itself are courtesy of the previous occupants of the house, the Johnson family. The only problem with it is that before you can really enjoy it you have to sweep out all the dirt and leaves that blow into it and of course ignore the people that are calling at the front door. Sometimes if I have a little extra time in the morning, I'll eat my breakfast out here. This time of year it's too cold for that (60's and 70's at night) and the sun doesn't come up until around 7 am.

This is my "hot" water heater. The tank and the plumbing were left behind by the Johnsons and a group of men who came to help us last spring built the tower and put it up for me. For much of the year it really does help give you a warm shower when you want one. So far I've found that it works best if its only half full, but I haven't had it during the hottest part of the year yet, when ironically, you are content with a cold shower most of the time. This time of year when it's so cold (at least for those of us with thinned tropical blood), showers are still too chilly to enjoy. Sometimes nothing will do but heating some water on the stove to put in a bucket for a "bucket shower".

On the road again

2008-01-11T17:21:00.000Z

In January the adult literacy classes start. We have done training for the literacy class teachers all fall, now it is time for them to gather their students and begin teaching them to read and write in a local language. The literacy center supplies all the materials needed for the class, chalkboard, small table and stool for the teacher, books, notebooks, pencils and even a gas lamp for those classes that meet at night. Before the classes can start we must deliver all the materials to the villages. That is what I have been doing for the last few days.

We pack a box of books and supplies for each village, load the tables, stool and blackboards on top of the car and away we go.

Along the way, we see many sights that we take for granted, but I was thinking of you all as we traveled and took some pictures of some of the roads. I know that you might not think of these as roads, but most of the roads that I travel from village to village look a lot like this. Actually, these are good roads.

Check out this road that threads the needle between two baobab trees. This particular village is easily recognizable because of this little grove of baobab trees.

I must admit that this bridge gives me a small case of the heebie-jeebies whenever I cross it, but it was fun today to stop and take pictures of the birds on the bridge. My employees are starting to get used to me stopping the car to take pictures. I tell them that I want people in America to learn what Africa is like. They like that idea and are starting to point out things for me to take pictures of .

Look at this gorgeous shot of the bird in flight. WOW! I love my new camera!

As most of you know, I struggle with fatigue as a result of what is known as chronic Lyme disease or post-Lyme syndrome. Some days are worse than others, but I have learned to judge how much energy I have for the day and plan how to spend it. Some days I know that I will have to be careful because I'm starting on an empty tank. On those days, I don't waste my precious strength on something that someone else can do. That's how I started the day when I had to deliver materials, so I hired a driver to take us around to the villages.

As you can see, my driver has a little trouble seeing over the steering wheel, but he has a buddy backing him up.

Now how does that air-conditioning work again?

Seriously, I really did hire a driver for the day. Actually, I borrowed him from the clinic. Tijan is a fun guy and a great help on days like this. Maybe my small drivers will be able to help out in a few years (after they can see over the steering wheel).

Counseling 101

2008-01-07T19:17:00.000Z

Some days I feel like a counselor. I have had days when people were literally lined up outside my office at the literacy center to talk to me about their problems (not financial problems, that's another function altogether).

Today I went to the office thinking that I would have a quiet day working on end-of-the-year bookkeeping. Just as I was preparing to sit down and get to work, the housekeeper comes in and says, "Haddy has been fighting with her husband and brother-in-law all morning. You should go talk to her. She might listen to you." Since Haddy is a young woman that I often help with her problems, financial and otherwise, I went.

It was interesting to watch how Gambians counsel in these situations. Most of the advice given was along the lines of, "Be patient. This too shall pass." As the various ladies gave their advice and told of problems that they had had in their marriages, it underscored for me the powerlessness of women in this culture. All of these women had been beaten and verbally abused by their husbands for silly reasons or no reason at all. They figure since they experienced it and lived through it, Haddy can too. They warned her that if she leaves her husband, she won't be better off. They tell her to think of her children, particularly her boys and stay for their sake. In this culture, the women own the girls and the men, the boys. So in this case, if she leaves, her girls go with her and the boys stay with her husband. Without their mother in the compound, they are likely to be neglected, if not mistreated. Their paternal grandmother is there, but she won't live forever.

I, coming from a western culture, have trouble telling her to stay in an escalatingly abusive marriage. My main advice to her continues to be to be quiet when someone starts yelling or insulting her and run if she's in physical danger. I have also told her to pray for her husband. She continually asks me to pray for her. She is trying to convince her family to intervene, which is her only hope of getting out of this situation, but they are dragging their feet.

This is a situation that requires more wisdom than I have. As all of us talked, Haddy settled down and agreed not to answer back when her husband or his brother insult her. Pray for the husband to have a change of attitude and for Haddy to be safe as she submits to her husband. Just minutes after I left Haddy's house, she arrived in my office. Her brother-in-law had waited until everyone left and then started insulting her again. She didn't answer him and when she couldn't take any more she came running to hide out in my office for a while. Fortunately, her mother-in-law, who loves Haddy and knows her sons' character, arrived home from her trip before I left the office. She will be a refuge for Haddy.

Just another day at the office!

A tour of my house

2008-01-04T16:17:00.000Z

I've been digging out a little bit in the past few days, so I thought I would give you all a tour of my house. I used to live in a 2 room apartment, but I moved across the compound to a bigger house about a year and a half ago. My small house was developing some serious cracks in the walls, so I was advised to move to another house. At first, I rattled around in this big place, but now I dread the thought of ever moving back into the small house. Right now there are only 3 singles on a compound designed to house 6 families and 5 singles, so there are houses to spare!

Anyway, welcome to my home.

You enter through a small greeting area, pass through a curtain and voila, living room, kitchen and dining room. Check out the new curtains. I just put those up a few months ago, thanks to Teresa who sewed them all. Look at the end of the room. See the fancy wiring? I have extension cords that run from my bedroom at the end of the hall (where the batteries and inverter are) to the living room. I got tricky with getting power to my home office which is the room next to my bedroom. I strung an extension cord across the ceiling and drilled a hole through the wall. It might not be pretty, but it gets the job done.

Look at my pretty new bookcase! I received some Christmas money and found this bookcase for an affordable price. I had been looking for a bookcase for that spot ever since Suellen returned from furlough and reclaimed hers. A few of the books on it were purchased with Christmas money too. No bargain books here. $14 for a paperback, maybe $5-7 for a used paperback. Not much available either.

A kitchen is a kitchen.

You can't see it very well, but the family who had the house before me left a locally made china cabinet. It's not gorgeous, but it's nice to have some closed in places to display things.

Down the hall, the first door to the left is the bathroom. Yes, I do have an indoor one, but I didn't think you needed a picture. Let me know if you do. The second door is the guest room, third, my home office where I sit typing this right now. The door at the very end is my bedroom. There's a door to the right that leads into the back yard.

Guest room ready and waiting. Never been used except by a fellow missionary needing a place to hide out and sleep.

The messy office. I haven't dug out here yet. I'm too busy blogging.

The bedroom, complete with cat. She'll share the bed, but only if you don't move around too much. It's a waterbed and she is nervous since the day that I laid down on the bed and catapulted her off as she was perched on the edge of the bed. It offended her dignity especially when I was laughing hysterically.

Hope you enjoyed the tour.

Happy New Year!

2008-01-03T12:55:00.000Z

We returned to NK on Monday with two vehicles loaded to the gills. We were praising the Lord that the line at the ferry was short. We left the guesthouse at about 10:30 am and were home by 1:30 pm. Those of you who have experienced the ferry, know how good that is. Drive time from the guesthouse to here is about 1/2 hour on each side of the river and the crossing itself takes any where from 30 minutes to over an hour depending on the state of the engines. Wait time is highly unpredictable especially mid-day. Usually we figure on at least a 2 hour wait. If it's less than that we celebrate! My longest ferry wait ever was about 13 hours. I left the hotel where I was staying at 5 am and finally got home at 8:30 pm. Those kind of waits don't happen too often fortunately!

Suellen, Teresa and I celebrated New Year's Eve with our traditional bonfire. Shivering (after all, it was probably high 60's, low 70's), we sat around watching the fire, eating chile, cornbread and brownies. We decided we would go to bed when the wood ran out. (We thought it would run out before midnight, but it didn't.) Being missionaries who like to accomplish something even with a fun event, for the past couple of years, we have been building our bonfires in the stump of the big tree that used to be in the center of the compound. You can't see the stump anymore and this year we made inroads into the roots that still remained. By the time others join us here, the 3 of us will be the only ones who know why we have bonfires in the center of the compound.

Merry Christmas

2007-12-17T22:03:00.000Z

Well, we had Christmas with the believers (some of them) on Saturday, the literacy training is finished for another year and we, the three of Ndungu Kebbeh, are leaving for the "big city" tomorrow. Tobaski and Christmas are only a few days apart this year, so we have 2 weeks that the literacy center and health center will be closed. So we are running away from home.

We will be staying at our guesthouse, which is a wonderful facility with separate apartments, air-conditioning, hot water heaters and even satelite television (there's nothing on that you want to watch most of the time, but that's beside the point!). It does not, however, have a land line phone, so guests have no internet access. All this to say that I will not be blogging for the next two weeks (unless I try the restaurant that has wi-fi internet). Yes, we are moving up in the world. For those of you that check the blog regularly, I'll be back with you in January.

So, have a wonderful holiday everyone. I will think of you shoveling your driveways as I sit by the pool or walk on the beach.

Jammin' to the exercise ball- con't

2007-12-08T08:42:00.000Z

I decided to take pity on all of you and see if I could send you part of the video. I have learned a new skill this morning in the attempt. I'm not sure how it will turn out, but I have captured stills from the video and will post those so you will see a glimpse of jammin' to the exercise ball. Sorry I can't send any of the sound. The drumming on the ball and all the giggles really make the video fun. You'll just have to use your imagination.

Jammin' to the exercise ball

2007-12-06T21:16:00.000Z

I have been trying to post this video all week, but it has been "update week" for my computer. Every time I've been on-line this week, my computer has been downloading updates. This may not be a problem where you live, but when your FASTEST connection is 28.8, let me tell you, those updates make uploading anything almost impossible. So, I have just checked and nothing is downloading. We shall see what lasts longer, the video upload time or my patience. Here we go...

Okay, this has become a contest of wills. I have fixed and eaten a salad, read a chapter of a book, written a couple of e-mails, been knocked off-line (thus having to start the video upload all over again), but I hate to give in. You never know, it might be that the video only has a few more seconds to go before it's finished...

This is the deal. I am going to go get ready for bed. It's getting late and I'm cold. Okay, it's probably in the 70's in the house, but that 's cold for me. I will leave the video uploading until I'm ready to go to bed and then that's it. Be warned. If I quit, there will be no more video attempts, at least not from Africa.

It's official. I have abdicated. There will be no more video attempts until we have a much faster connection. Sorry everyone. I am going to post this stream-of-consciousness blog and leave you all wondering just what jammin' to the exercise ball could possibly be.

Fun at Aji's house

2007-12-01T19:15:00.000Z

Once in a while a mother shows up at my house with some of her children in tow. I keep toys on hand for such occasions and sometimes we just have a roaring good time. Yesterday a friend came with her 3 youngest children (actually one of them is the child of her co-wife who died when the child was only about 5 months old-long story). The daughter of the co-wife is named after my sister, Ruth, so we keep in close contact. She's wearing the blue shirt.

My new digital camera arrived this week, so it was fun to have some willing subjects. I have to play with my toys too!

Frogs in the bedroom

2007-12-01T10:39:00.001Z

Some people have a problem with mice in their house. I don't. I have frogs. Okay, technically, toads. Frogs in the bedroom, frogs in my office, frogs hopping down the hall and frogs thumping around in the closet. I have caught or chased out of my house at least 10 frogs. I think they are gone now. It's cooler outside so they aren't drawn to the cool tile between my back screen door and the wooden door. If you opened the back door you would find a frog pile in the corner between the doors and if you weren't careful, the pile would disperse into the house from there. My poor housekeeper had to keep chasing frogs out every time she opened the back door. She's afraid of them, like most Gambians, so once they were in the house, they were my problem. People were amazed when I tracked them down, caught them by hand and threw them out the door. Here's one of my buddies. I took his picture before I grabbed him and threw him out the door.

Package, anyone?

2007-12-01T09:26:00.000Z

We really enjoy getting mail. It doesn't happen very often, which is probably why we enjoy it so much. In order for us to receive mail, first of all, someone has to send us something. Second, the U.S. Postal Service has to get it to The Gambia. Third, and this is the sticking point, the people at the Banjul Post Office have to actually sort the mail and put it into our P.O. box. Fourth, Barney or Max have to pick up the mail at the post office and take it back to the mission office. Fifth, someone coming to this side of the river has to remember to bring the mail along to give to us. So, we get mail sometimes and when we do, it's an occasion!

We really enjoy getting packages. Sometimes, however, we find unexpected things in the box!

Check out this package.

It's amazing what fits into one of those new flat rate air mail boxes.

Okay, I confess. The cat didn't arrive in the box, but it sure is cute. The cat is actually a hand-me-down from one of the missionary families who left. Some people get furniture, books or other stuff, I get a cat. Her family was going to moving to Banjul, so I told them that I would take her. She's not so bad as cats go. Don't tell her this, but I'm more of a dog person.

Answered prayer

2007-11-24T18:31:00.000Z

I often wonder how people without a relationship with the Lord manage to weather the storms of life. Of course we know many who turn to drugs, alcohol and rampant hedonism to escape the realities of life, but here we see people just plugging away, stoically accepting whatever comes.

I almost had another very sad post, but God is good and has answered our prayers.

A few days ago, I heard from my friend (P) whose daughter died a few months ago. She had been called unexpectedly to another daughter's home because her granddaughter was missing. The child and her mother were visiting relatives because the mother was sick and seeking medical treatment. The evening that they arrived, the child (about 5) went with her cousins and other kids from the neighborhood to watch TV at a nearby compound. The child never came home. The family made announcements on radio and TV, searched the neighborhood, went to all the police stations in the area, but nothing. I didn't hear about it until the child had already been missing for 10 days. My friend called to make sure that I had heard. She was also concerned because she had heard that her daughter-in-law here in the village was sick. P was feeling pulled apart as she tried to support her daughter whose child was lost and also care for her son's wife who was trying to handle the responsibilities at home.

We were horrified at the fact that this child had been missing for so long and of course, we thought the worst. I was also very concerned for P because she was still struggling with the death of her daughter and was now dealing with an emotional pain that might not ever be resolved. We prayed hard for the child to be found and two days later, P called me and said that the child had been found. She seemed to be okay. The circumstances that led to her recovery are truly miraculous. Another child who was being held in the same compound, escaped and told the police where she had been held and that there was another child there. Of course when the police came and told them to produce the other child, the people denied everything. After the police left, the people got nervous and moved P's granddaughter to another compound. They were too nervous to keep her, so they moved her to someone else. Several compounds later, someone finally decided to take her to an orphanage and leave her there. Meanwhile, her family decided to check the police stations and that orphanage again and there she was. God is so good.

I am looking forward to seeing P again when she returns home and rejoicing in the way that God answered prayer.

Death

2007-11-17T17:09:00.000Z

One of the hardest things for me to get used to here is death. Now it seems like death would be the same everywhere, doesn’t it? However, people all over the world respond to this universal experience in different ways. Here in The Gambia, when a person dies people initially wail loudly until all the friends and neighbors hear it and come running. After that initial outburst though, fatalism takes over as you hear people telling the grieving family that it was God’s will and they just need to endure it.

In the past few months I have attended 3 funerals of young adults. Somehow those are always the hardest. As we chatted with the family of one young man, they were comforting each other with accounts of how faithful he was in doing his prayers and how no one had anything bad to say about him. I had to bite my tongue not to cry out at the vanity of putting your hope of eternity on your good works or good character.

A good friend of mine lost her daughter a few months ago too. I sat in her house as people came to pay their respects. If she cried, they told her, “Just endure it. All we can do now is pray for her. Don’t cry. Endure it.” My friend still comes to my office regularly when she needs to talk or cry, because I provide a listening ear and I don't scold her for crying. Her daughter was a recently married young adult and no one really knows what she died from. My friend's account of their days in the hospital are heart wrenching as both of them knew that she was dying. All I can do sometime is cry with her because there is absolutely no hope I offer her.

I struggle with death in this culture because I believe that people who die without trusting in Jesus Christ as their Saviour are eternally lost. Are Americans who die without Christ also eternally lost? Yes, of course, but since most Americans have heard the gospel many times, you have some hope that perhaps the person accepted Christ as Saviour before he died. Here people talk about having hope, but they are putting their hope in good works instead of the blood of Christ that paid the penalty for the sins of the world. Their hope is in vain.

Just a few days ago though, we experienced a different kind of loss as one of the believers passed away. Unfortunately, we are still not a strong enough group to have a Christian funeral and a plot of land to bury believers. Her husband is obviously struggling with his loss, but he told me just today that he believes that she was truly trusting Christ. At her funeral, her relatives wanted him to go with them to the gravesite and pray for her to get into heaven as they do at Muslim funerals. He refused and as he told me today, "She has already gone where she is going to go." This death, although painful, leaves us rejoicing that she came to know the Lord before she died. What a difference that makes!

My husband

2007-10-28T18:05:00.000Z

Some of you are probably saying, "What ?!", but it's true. I have a husband. Okay, he's only 2 years old and is really my great-grandson. I hear your voices again, "What?! How can you have great-grandchildren?" It's very simple. When I arrived in The Gambia 14 years ago, I was named after the matriarch of our village, Aji Suun Kebbeh. In bearing her name, I also claim all of her relationships. Her children call me mother, her grand-children call me grandmother etc. Thus, most of the village calls me mother, grandmother, aunt etc. Are you with me so far? When it comes to male grandchildren, however, particularly little ones, grandmothers always call their grandsons "husband".

So let me introduce you to my husband. Mohammeh is staying with his grandparents who own the place we rent for the Literacy Center. His mom just had twins, so he's living with grandma for a while.

Every day he greets me as I arrive. He's just learning to talk, so his greeting is usually a bit garbled. His grandmother is always telling him to greet his wife (meaning me). The other day as I arrived, I heard this little voice coming from inside the house, "Jabar, jabar" (wife,wife). I almost fell on the ground laughing. I'd never heard a kid do that spontaneously before.

As you can see, he was having a wardrobe problem that completely distracted him.

Aaaagh, they're taking over!

2007-10-27T16:40:00.000Z

We have had another sneak invasion at the Literacy Center. We were sitting listening to a lesson about David when one of the men in the group says, "Did you see the termite mound under that cabinet?" Well, those termites had filled in the entire space under the cabinet and moved inside as well. Their construction was so solid that two of us tugging on the cabinet could not break it loose from the wall or the floor. Yuck! We had to leave it until the next day because we couldn't get to it. I dug some dirt from underneath and left it so the housekeeper would see it when she came to clean in the morning.

Impressive, isn't it?

Our housekeeper, Suna, chopped and hacked at that termite mound with a machete to break it up. She had already removed part of the dirt from around the edges before I arrived and took this picture. She still couldn't get the cabinet away from the wall though, so the majority of the termite mould was left so that you could see the fun we have. (Suellen heard that we had another major termite invasion so she loaned me her camera because mine isn't working. She said I had to get pictures of this one.) I eventually managed to pry it loose by tipping it first one way and then the other.

The other employees arrived and joined the fun as we found that the inside of the cabinet was also invaded. We are having training sessions right now, so we have extra people around too. They were all watching or helping with the removal.

Suna told me that she took out 8 of the trash cans full of termite dirt. Then she said, "And that's not counting what I just carried outside with the dustpan!" The poor woman spends a lot of her time on termite patrol. I even made her go check the building once a week when we were closed in the summer. If I hadn't, the office might have been filled to the brim before we opened again. Those termites are industrious little buggers!
I can't wait until our new office is built. It at least will be cement with solid cement floors. Our current building is cement walls with a dirt floor that was lightly coated with cement. There are many holes in the floor so the termites don't even have to work very hard to get in. Maybe by this time next year we will have our new building. Until then...the fight goes on.

Termite invasion

2007-10-21T17:13:00.000Z

One of the things that we deal with at the literacy center on an almost daily basis are termites. Yes, I do mean those little antlike critters that love to munch on wood, paper and any number of other substances. One of the housekeepers jobs is to check for "guests" each day. Some days she hauls out a bucket or more of termite dirt. Last week, I returned from a weekend in Banjul and found that they were making themselves comfortable in my office. They had built a mound of wet, red dirt up the wall and around a gallon jug of oil. A few days later, the housekeeper found them using the battery cabinet (where the big car batteries for the solar power are kept) as their latest condo. They have been evicted from in and around this cabinet many times, but after trying other locations they always come back (after the poison wears off!). Gibril and Ebou, two of my employees, helped the housekeeper dig the mucky red dirt out of the cabinet. They hauled out 7 big platters full of dirt! Suellen arrived in the middle of this process and decided that she was so NOT happy to have seen this. For us, however, it was just another day at the office.

I'm back

2007-10-15T18:31:00.000Z

Sorry I haven't posted in a while. I logged on one day ready to post a deep and profound blog only to find that I couldn't access my own blog site. Obviously that problem has been mysteriously solved, but alas, the deep and profound thoughts I had for you are now lost in brain space. So, don't get your hopes up for this blog.

We just finished the month of Ramadan, the Muslim fasting month. Yippee, hurray! I don't fast during the month, but it is painful for me as well. People are not eating or drinking from sunrise to sunset (approximately 6 am to 7 pm this time of year). At sundown, however, the eating and drinking begin. They "have to" break their fast with a hot drink and bread, then they drink cold water (ice sellers make a killing during this month since most people don't have refrigeration), then they eat a meal. Around midnight, they eat again and some get up to eat breakfast at 5am. They spent lots of money (that they don't have) on food and drink during this month of fasting. Of course, during the day, since people are fasting, everyone droops around and spits. They aren't supposed to swallow their saliva during the fast, so people spit constantly during Ramadan.

During the month, I get lots of requests for help with food, cold water and clothes for the feast day that ends the month. About a half hour before sunset, the water seekers come bearing their containers. I keep about 12 liters of water in the frig and give it until its gone. I didn't have as many water seekers this year, so many days I had water left over for the next day. It's nice to have that over with for another year.

Well, I guess that's all I have to say for today. I'll try to post again soon.

Car fun

2007-08-23T19:10:00.000Z

How many cars does it take to get three missionaries from Banjul to Ndungu Kebbeh? In a perfect world, it only takes one. However, The Gambia is NOT a perfect world. Yesterday, Suellen, Teresa and I were coming home after our quarterly field council meeting which was held at our guesthouse. We loaded the car around 10 AM, hopped in to head to the ferry and...click, brrr, the car wouldn't start. It sounded more serious than just a dead battery so we called Max who had the van, which had just been repaired and was also ready to return to NK. Max brought the van. We push-started the Nissan so it could be driven to the mechanic. Then we unloaded all of our junk from the Nissan and moved it to the van. Fortunately only Suellen had done her monthly grocery shopping this trip. We had a lot of stuff, but it could have been much worse.

On the road finally. We jump in the van and head out, but we notice that it needs fuel. We stop to fill up and find that the gas cap is missing. Since it had just come from the shop, we called Max to check on it when he gets to the mechanic with the Nissan. Max meets us on the road with a gas cap that will fit and away we go.

We arrive in Banjul and see that the wait for the ferry is going to be a long one. We find a spot in line and settle in for the day. Since it was so hot, we left the motor running so that we could enjoy the air-conditioning for a while. The line moves forward slowly and we finally turn into the driveway of the ferry terminal. We aren't inside the gates yet, but they are at least in sight. In the process of moving, we noticed that we were leaking fluid. As we pulled into the driveway of the terminal we can smell the antifreeze. When we turned off the engine, we could hear water boiling. A van engine is under and behind the driver's seat, so the car is very hot. We could see a huge puddle of water under the van, so we knew that we weren't going any where with this car.

We tried to call Max to find out the status of the Nissan, but the cell phone network was not working. After trying all of our phones and all of the numbers for Max, Barney and Adelia, we decided to go call from the telecenter (like a phone booth, but manned). We found Max waiting for the mechanic to call and tell him that it was ready. (It turned out that it was just a loose connection in the Nissan.) After waiting for Max for over an hour, we decide to go back to the telecenter and call again. Turns out he had been trying to call us, but couldn't reach us because of the network problem. He was on the way with some guys from the mechanic's shop.

Max arrived and we persuaded the ferry workers to let him pull in behind us so we could transfer baggage yet again, this time with many interested onlookers. I took position near the back of the van to keep sticky-fingered observers away and Teresa and Suellen took turns guarding the back of the Nissan and carrying stuff. Thankfully we were inside a semi-protected area with security people all around, not in the open street. In fairly short order we had the stuff packed in the Nissan. The mechanics added water to the van and were going to follow Max to the shop. Max manuevered the van out of the crowded line and we hopped in the Nissan to wait for the ferry. Since the line was so long and the ferries running so slowly, we ended up only losing about 5 places in line and crossed on the same ferry as we would have if we hadn't broken down. As we say here, "Yalla baax na". (God is good.)

We arrived home at 6:15PM, hot and tired, but happy to be safely home.

We missed you!

2007-08-14T22:26:00.000Z

The flow is finally slowing down. Since I have been home from vacation I have had a constant flow of people coming to welcome me home, say how much they missed me and then ask for either their gift from my trip or help with money for _________(lunch, a trip, medicine, mosquito net, candles etc.). One afternoon my living room was full of women and children while the entry way looked like a used flip-flop jumble sale. (I wish I had a picture to show you. My digital camera is having problems.) There were people on the couch, on the loveseat, on the exercise ball, on the kitchen chairs. As chairs emptied, they were rapidly filled again with different people. In the midst of this were the children that came with their mothers. They like coming to my house because I keep balls and other toys for them to play with. That afternoon was a nice time because there were too many people coming and going for all of them to ask me for something. So we were able to just chat. Those with serious business came back the next day.

In the midst of all the visits, I still try (vainly) to get some other work done. Some mornings I run away to the Literacy Center to work, but people follow me. The flow of people continues the whole time I am there. The good thing is that I am fresh back from vacation so I have more patience with people. The bad thing is that it is exhausting to deal with all the requests all day every day, so pretty soon I'm going to need another vacation!

So many needs and so many stories of need. Determining who really needs help and how to help them is a constant challenge. The rainy season is a time of increased need as people have used up every bit of last year's crop and put all the money they could scrape together into repairing houses or buying seed and fertilizer. Food is scarce and money scarcer. Meanwhile with the rains come mosquitoes bearing malaria. So people are hungry and sick, but still trying to work in their fields so that they will have something at harvest time. Only someone with a heart of stone wouldn't feel compassion on people, but the needs are so many that you have to triage. You do what you can do and leave the rest to God. Most people have a whole network of relatives, friends etc who they depend on to help them. Although every single person who tells me their tale of woe claims that I am "their only hope", I know that people survived before I came here, while I was on furlough and they will continue to survive if I leave here. Knowing this is true doesn't make saying, 'Forgive me, I can't help you today.' any easier though. Especially difficult is refusing to help one of the "family" because they are too dependent on your help. Sometimes help isn't really help.

I don't know if this blog is making any sense to anyone except those of you who have been here or somewhere like this. My goal is to help you get a glimpse of every day life here and this issue is a big part of every day life in The Gambia (even if you're not a "rich missionary").

Home from vacation

2007-08-08T12:56:00.000Z

Just a quick post to let you know that I am back from vacation. I spend my vacation time just relaxing at our ABWE guesthouse here in The Gambia. It's nice to spend some time in the air-conditioning and not have people at the door constantly. My co-workers did have to run interference for me some as things came up with employees in my absence. When Deb is here, we don't usually take vacation at the same time so that one of us is always available. With the literacy ministry closed for the summer you would think that nothing would be happening, but there's always something.

One tragic event shocked me as one of my employees called to notify me of the sudden death of one of the literacy facilitators. The young man was a teacher at the primary school in our village and he had just finished teaching the first year literacy class in his village. His village was our first class in Serer and he did an excellent job of teaching the class. He had over 30 students and all but 2 passed the exam with over 60%. His death was very sudden. It sounds like it could have been an anerysm since he complained of a severe headache and was dead within an hour of arriving at the hospital. Death isn't reserved for the elderly. My other employees may find this a wake-up call as this young man was younger than most of them and very well liked and respected. He leaves behind a wife and 2 small children.

Nursery School Program

2007-06-30T12:03:00.000Z

Since Deb Newsome is on furlough, I also have the responsibility of running the nursery school. (Normally we divide the work. I run the classes and she runs the nursery school.) So I had the opportunity this year of participating in the nursery school end-of-the-year program.

As you can see we had a full house. Of course with the school enrollment close to 100, just the kids take up half of the room! I had to make a speech in Wolof to open the program. I just got up and talked and had fun. Teresa, a fellow missionary, who was at the program commented later about how I "turn on" in front of a crowd. I confess it's true, even in Wolof. I get it from my father. Thanks, Dad.

The teachers have some of the top students demonstrate the things they have learned: alphabet, counting to 100, writing numbers to 20, writing their name, colors, shapes, reciting the days of the week and months of the year, etc. The boy below is MKN's son.
Some of the students are just too good at what they do. Behind the men in the picture is a little girl who was counting to 100 VERY QUICKLY. Every time I tried to get her picture, she had disappeared again before the camera got the shot. I tried twice, but she was too quick for me. People were very impressed with her though.
Finally after everyone and his brother had a chance to make a speech, it was time to hand out certificates. Thirty children received certificates and "passed out". They will be going on to first grade in the government school in the fall. This little girl is Kumba. She is named after my sister, Ruth (Ruth's Gambian name is Kumba Bah). I was running around like the mother of triplets because I had several kids "passing out" that I needed to get pictures of. Of course, I wanted to get pictures in general, too, to share with you all. I must say, this blog is making me take more pictures.

For those who may be wondering who the men are, they really don't have anything to do with the school. We invite the village chief and other village elders and dignitaries to attend the program. We give them a place of honor, let them give speeches and participate in the program.

One of my jobs on program day is to drive to the village and round them up. This particular day I was driving the "Kebbeh mobile". My last name is Kebbeh and every one of the men that I loaded into the car for the program was a Kebbeh. Now I packed a few more with different last names in for the trip back to town, so it wasn't the Kebbeh mobile any more.

Adventures in Literacy

2007-06-30T11:27:00.000Z

In June I hit the road to close all the literacy classes until January. Sometimes the roads I hit are interesting like this one. By the way, this wasn't the worst one by any means. It looks terrible, but at least there's a "bridge". More fun are those places with no bridge. The same day that I crossed here, I also crossed at a place where they are building a bridge, but since it's not finished you have to drive around the bridge through the muck. We haven't had much rain yet, so the roads are still in good shape.

As the two literacy supervisors and I arrive in the villages, the class participants start to gather. We make some speeches about education and thanking the teacher, the students, the village chief etc. Then we hand back their exams along with certificates and prizes. Everyone who took the exam (even if they only scored 1%) received a cassette with 4 lessons from the Bible in Wolof. Those who were first or second in the class received bigger prizes like a bowl or machete or watch. Then we have more speeches as the class members thank us for bringing the class to their village etc.

Living in Africa though is sometime like being in a musical. You just never know when people might break out singing and dancing! In one village an older lady got up and started singing a song praising their teacher etc and the whole class chimed in echoing her words. The clapping and drumming on the yellow jerrycan quickly followed as various class members jumped up to dance.

You just never know what might set off a round of singing and dancing! You'll be happy to know that although I was invited to participate, I refrained ; )

Rainy Season

2007-06-23T10:59:00.000Z

Well, it's officially rainy season. We have had 2 good rains so the farmers are planting their peanuts. The red fuzzy bugs are out in force and the winged ants are hatching and depositing their wings as they flutter around the lights at night. The fields are just starting to show a tinge of green as the grass begins to grow. The millet farms were planted early this year, so the millet plants will be coming up soon.

At this point in the rainy season, we can go a week or more between rains. The humidity rises and rises until you think you are going to dissolve in a puddle of slime. Most days it's probably in the 90's with 80-90% humidity. I'm not sure how that rates on the "heat index" that the weather forecasters use, but it's definitely sticky. Suellen insists that I don't sweat, but that's not true. It's true that I don't DRIP sweat, but I do have a good glow most days. (Haven't you heard that ladies don't perspire, they glow.) At the clinic, they used to mark the FST (first sweat time) each day. When the FST is 8 a.m., you know you're in for a bad day unless it rains. The rain itself is wonderful as it usually is accompanied by cool breezes and a reduction in humidity (at least temporarily). I also enjoy the sound of rain on the corrugate roof. In a bad storm, it's deafening, but in a gentle rain, the sound is soothing.

As much as I enjoy the rain, I feel sorry for those who have to cook outside over an open fire. Many have a separate building that is the kitchen where they can have their cooking fire, but some people don't have a kitchen or their kitchen fell in the rains. (A mud-brick building tends to do that.) So on rainy days, when the rain lasts all day, most of my friends have to struggle to cook for their families. Not to mention that the bathrooms are outdoor pit latrines. Not much fun in the rain.

The rain ruins many roads. Most roads are just dirt paths, so they are washed out easily and develop mud holes that are car traps. The trick in driving on these roads is to follow the cart tracks and see where they go through the puddles and where they go around. (It also helps to have 4-wheel drive : ) My favorite technique is to avoid driving on the worst roads until they dry up, but that isn't always possible.

My next blog will have a picture of one road that I drove on recently. Some people say that most of the roads I take to the villages with literacy classes aren't really roads. That, however, is another blog.

Birthday

2007-06-23T10:17:00.001Z

I celebrated my birthday this week. My birthday falls during one of the busiest months at the Literacy Center, so I don't have time to even think about it. Most of the time I forget about it until later in the day when I happen to write the date. Here, however, birthdays aren't a big deal. Most people don't know how old they are, much less the date of their birth. In recent years, some of the more educated/affluent people in the country have started celebrating birthdays. The one celebrating a birthday may have a big party and invite their friends. The friends don't bring presents. They come for their share of the birthday.

I follow this custom on a very small scale with my employees. On the day of my birthday, I give them money so that they can have attaya (a strong green tea) and hot sweet milk. Sometimes I tell them that it's my birthday and sometimes I don't. I didn't tell them this year. When I do tell them, they suggest all kinds of other things I should do for them to celebrate my birthday. A Gambian friend of mine heard from one of the other missionaries that it was my birthday, so she came to "get her share" of the birthday. Yes, she thought I should give her something so that she could celebrate my birthday.

My fellow missionaries don't follow this custom. On the day of my birthday, they came to my house just as I was getting home from the literacy center. Teresa had made a carrot cake (my favorite) and she, Suellen and Jean brought it over, sang "Happy Birthday" and then we enjoyed the cake. That was the extent of the celebration though. Short, but sweet, then back to work.

Swarmed

2007-06-19T00:51:00.000Z

Have you ever wanted to be swarmed by 50 pre-schoolers? You haven't?! Well, then I have some advice for you. Don't go to the nursery school in Ndungu Kebbeh and pull out a camera. Remember I warned you. This is what happens. Children who were playing contentedly or eating lunch spot the camera. Instantly, the holder of the camera becomes a child magnet as the chant begins,"Nataal ma". (Take my picture.)

Well, once I broke free of the swarm, actually, I didn't really break free. I just moved the group in the direction I wanted to go. I convinced the children that I was taking a picture of the climbing structure that we just moved from the old school. So they swarmed the climbing structure (instead of me) and I took this picture. You can't really see the climbing structure, but it does make a nice tiered effect for the picture.

Our groundskeeper/handyman for the Literacy Center property is amazing. One of the teachers asked if we could move the climbing structure from the old school yard to the new one. I wasn't sure it could be done, but I asked the handyman. After looking at it briefly, he said," I can do it." I was still doubtful, but he could try. The next day, he took the structure apart board by board, we loaded it into the car and took the miscellaneous pieces to the new schoolyard. The next day, he put it back together like a giant jigsaw puzzle and there is stands. Our 90+ nursery schools students are enjoying having something to climb on (since we won't let them climb the baby cashew trees.)

Tie and Dye

2007-06-16T11:39:00.000Z

June is one of the crazier months of the year for me. I coordinate adult literacy classes and June is the month that we close for the year. That involves many different things, but one of the most fun is when we go to the second-year classes and help them with their tie-and-dye. Tie-and-Dye is one of the skills that we teach in the second year classes. Yes, that's me, the only "tubaab" in the picture.

This week we went to 3 villages to dye their projects. It's a lot of work!
In about 3 hours we finish preparing and dye about 50 yards of cloth, in 2 yard sections. Each class participant is given 2 yards of cloth to prepare and dye. Some of the styles require preparation on the actual day of dying and others must be prepared ahead of time. Of course there are always some who should have prepared ahead of time, but didn't!

My class supervisors and the class facilitator have their hands full as they try to guide 15-25 women through this process. It gets a little loud sometimes, so it's a good thing the class is held outside under a tree. Imagine 25 women all trying to work on their projects, most of whom have a baby on their back or a toddler at their side. Now add in 2 fires for heating water and spectators of all ages. After all, our arrival is probably the biggest show in town that day.

In the end, we have some very nice work. When the class receives their certificates next week, the group will also received a kit which will help them to make a small start if they want to continue this as an income-generating project.

Paycheck to paycheck

2007-05-31T21:39:00.000Z

When I lived in America, I often heard people complaining about how they lived from paycheck to paycheck. I was probably one of them. Living here gives me a whole new perspective about wealth or the lack of it. Try living paycheck to paycheck when there is no paycheck. The phase hand to mouth is a more accurate description of many people's existence here.

A friend of mine came to use my phone today. She was trying to call various relatives who might be able to give her some money or buy her some rice. This woman has four children and a husband who sometimes works. Even when he does work, he often "punishes her" for various offenses by refusing to give her money for food. So she spends her day going to various people that she thinks might help her with a little money or some rice. If she get something, she goes home, cooks lunch and calls all of the members of the compound to eat (7 adults, 6 children). All will eat, even the husband who refused to give her money for food. That will probably be their only meal of the day and the next morning the process begins again. If her begging is not successful, they will not eat that day or at least she and her children won't. The men often eat somewhere else if there's no food in their own compound.

I have other friends who live like this as well. Some husbands will at least buy the rice (a 100 pound bag that will last 10 days to a month depending on the number of people eating) and try to give their wives some money to take to the market each morning to buy the fish and vegetables for the meal. Many women have to supplement what their husbands give them with money that they earn by selling or doing laundry or other small jobs. Imagine waking up every morning knowing that there is absolutely no food in the house and little or no money in your wallet. If you manage to scrape together some change, you go buy something to cook for your family. You eat, then there you are again, no food, no money. That is truly a hand-to-mouth existence.

As one of the "haves" in this society, I am someone that people come to for help. My friend comes to me almost every day, but I can't give to her every day. It is her husband's responsibility to provide for his family, not mine. I would be wrong to take over his job, but it's hard to know where to draw the line between compassion and creating dependency.

I am often reminded of the verse that says that a man who doesn't take care of his family is worse than an infidel. I also think of "He that doesn't work, shouldn't eat".

I know men who have very little money, but they hustle every day to be able to give their wives money to cook with. If they come up short, I don't mind helping them, because they are trying. The lazy ones and the stingy ones really make me mad though. I don't like it that they benefit when I help their wives. Today is one of those days when I want to take all the deadbeat husbands, line them up, knock some sense into them and then make them watch over a period of several days while their wives and children eat without them. Obviously I can't do that, but it would be nice!

Okay, I've vented enough. I'll try for a lighter topic next time.

I hate bats!

2007-05-31T21:15:00.000Z

I know you're thinking that I have a weird animal encounter every day, but I don't really. I think the critters are just trying to help me get the blog off to a good start, but they can stop now. A few minutes ago a bat got into my house. How? I don't know. I heard some critter-ish sounds and then it starts swooping and diving all around the kitchen/living room as I was trying to make supper. I had to keep dodging as it buzzed past my head on each circuit of the room. Then it disappeared down the hall and I was left wondering where it went. I crept down the hall, cautiously turning on lights when there it was swooping out of my bedroom and down the hall toward me. I quickly went to the back door, propped open the screen door and blocked the hallway with the door and my body. I was hoping that the bat would escape out the door without hitting me. It did. This bat was smarter than its relative that was playing kamikazee with me a few weeks ago. That one actually spent the night in the house (while I hid in the bedroom). I eventually got it out the same way, but that one had defective radar. It actually ran into me before deflecting out the door. Yuck!

It's surprising that we don't have more bat encounters since our compound is over run with bats. They love the mango trees especially when the fruit is ripe like it is now. Visitors from the U.S. always ask us what the beeping noise is at night. It's the bats. They sound a little bit like a big truck when its backing up. My attitude is live and let live...as long as they stay out of my house!

Another day, another story

2007-05-30T22:21:00.000Z

I killed a black mamba today. Granted it was only a baby one, but still... where there's a baby mamba there's a mama mamba. Today my cat decided that a baby snake was fun to play with, so when I was walking out my door, there she was toying with the snake just a couple yards away from the door. A friend who was with me warned me that this was a poisonous snake. So what's a girl to do? Scream, faint or pick up a rock? I threw a rock on it (which only made it mad) and then put a bigger rock on it so it couldn't get away. Then I got my shovel and chopped it's head off. The Gambian ladies who were cheering me on weren't satisfied that it was dead until I bashed its head in too. Take my word for it. That snake is really dead. I just hope mama mamba doesn't come looking for her baby's killer.

We know that there is a big snake that regularly tours our compound and the watchmen are sure that it's a black mamba. They haven't been able to find where it lives, but they have followed a large snake track all around the compound. My flashlight is my best friend when I have to leave my house at night. Hmmm, maybe I should have two best friends, my flashlight and my shovel.

No two days alike

2007-05-29T20:23:00.000Z

I have often thought that living here has spoiled me for "normal" life. Every day is different here with strange things happening or just funny things. For example, I go to work every day at the Literacy Center. The office is located in a Gambian compound so there are cows, goats, chickens, sheep, horses, ducks and of course children that wander in the yard around the building. The occasional curious goat or chicken (or child!) will venture into my office just to see what I'm doing. Yesterday our entertainment was provided by a goat that got its head caught in the handle of a bucket. The goat was jumping and running trying to get away from this thing that was chasing it, but of course, the bucket continued to chase the poor goat. One of my employees took pity on the it and removed the bucket.

One day a monkey came racing through the office yard and all of my male employees took off chasing it along with all the men in the neighborhood. Monkeys don't normally come into the village, so they thought this one was probably sick and should be killed. A few minutes later one of my employees emerges victorious holding up the body of the monkey for all to see. So how many of you have adventures like this at your work place?

Yal na leen Yalla barkeel. (May God bless you.)

Aji

Welcome

2007-05-29T19:03:00.000Z

Welcome to my Gambia blog. I am a missionary working in the Gambia, West Africa. I live and work in a rural village on the north bank of the Gambia river. If you look at a map, you will notice that The Gambia is basically a river with its two banks. I have lived in the Gambia off and on since 1993. On this blog I may talk about my work or my observations into the language and culture of the Wolof people. Questions and comments are welcome.