Bec Blathers

an ode to my colon

2008-04-24T11:50:00.000-07:00

Well,
Another day, sitting here with the cat, thinking about all the things I should do, but sort of avoiding them. Drinking my coffee, needs more sugar, but trying to cut back. Have to go to work in 1 hour, 45 minutes, nope, not counting.
So, the past few days a new experience for me. I am sure many of you have had the experience, and if you haven't I hope you never have too. About 12 years ago or so, my sister had a tumour removed from her colon. She was 29, pretty rare thing for a woman so young. This year, I am turning thirty, and so thought, hey, why not be proactive, and get screened, just to be on the safe side. To screen you for colon cancer, they have to stick a camera on the end of a flexible rod up into your colon via your bum-hole, and have a little look-see. Yes, I said it. Ick. Ick and ouch rather. So, I took two days off work, spent day one eating no food, and drinking lots of liquids as well as drinking this solution which is a purgative and cleans you right out. I spent the day doing a little laundry, went and did some grocery shopping, but for the most part, laid on the couch and napped, and watched mindless television, and running to use the bathroom every so often. In the evening, between 7 and 10 it was about every 15 minutes. Nice.
Day two, spent the morning trying not to think about how my stomach felt like it was eating itself because it was so hungry, and not look at the dark chocolate bunny sitting on the counter. My husband came and picked me up, and took me to the hospital for the "procedure" at 12:30. For colonoscopes you check in at Emergency, and there you sit with all this other people with unknown ailments and injuries until being called into Ambulatory care. It is behind door #2. I kid you not. I sorta felt like I was on a game show. Through the door, a room full of beds with people lying on them, with curtains around them, and then a whole wack of nurses, cleaning people, and well, I am really not sure who all the people were. We are led to my bed with its own curtain where there is a pretty white and blue number with the ties in the back I get to wear. The nurse sits me down, explains the procedure, answers questions and asks me all sorts of probing questions, like what did you eat and drink last and at what time, do you use street drugs, and who is this man, and what is his name....Uh,no, and um, my husband....anyhoo. I don't want to bore you with the details. Anyhow, I go use the loo, then back to my little cubicle to disrobe and put on my hospital gown. There are only a few places where it is acceptable to strip down to your birthday suit in a room full of people. The curtain didn't quite reach all around, so my husband blocked the gap with his body while I changed. When I was done all I had on was my socks and hospital gown, which by the way is very hard to tie when the ties are at the back. Feeling very naked. All my belongings are in a plastic box which is placed under my bed. The nurse couldn't get it to fit, so I hope down to help. Apparently my exposed my bum in the process as my husband tells me, laughingly. Oops. Next, I get wrapped in warm blankets and a IV needle stuck in the vein in my hand. Ow. I look over just in time to see dark crimson blood seeping out the top...hey, thats my blood....thankfully, I don't faint. My husband sits with me and makes me laugh while I lie there under my warm blanket. While lying, my hand hurts so I don't feel like reading a magazine, so I just watch the people go by, because now my curtain is wide open. Across from me is a nurses station. They have a coffee pot going, and some chocolate cake one of them is eating. A little weird to be lying in my jammies, watching some stranger who probably just gave someone a needle or something to be eating chocolate cake. A little while later, some paramedics walk by with a lady on a stretcher. Then, I look back to the nurses station, and there is a dog in there now. I am thinking, not sanitary......The nurses and doctors are gathering around to see the cute little pooch. I am thinking, I hope they wash their hands well. A young teenage boy and his mom walk by, he has injured his hand or something. As people walk by, they stare at me, I stare right back, sort of surreal, having people staring at you while you lie in bed. No privacy in hospitals. Finally its my turn, I ask to use the loo again. I have the IV stand with me this time, a little harder to manuver into the washroom, going pee, washing, all with one hand. I am back out, and my husband says goodbye....we kiss and the nurses say...ewww they're kissing. I hop back on my rolling bed. Into the room with a TV screen, a doctor, and like 3 more nurses. Man, they are everywhere. They hook me up to blood pressure monitor, heart rate monitor, and a few other things, not sure what. I think I am allergic to the adhesive though, becuase i still have red marks on my chest from the electrodes. The doctor comes in, has a chart. Didn't I do some work on your nose. I say no, never had work done on my nose. Never seen you before in my life. He keeps looking at the chart....you're not 59 either are you....Um, no....I'm not. Yeah, he had the wrong chart. I tell him my name, he gets the right chart. Now for the fun. He asks more questions. Mentions some person recently who was 39, and died of colon cancer...hm, thanks very reassuring I think.
He pushes two needles full of sedative into my IV. I start feeling all whooozy.....I am still awake though. Flip on your side they tell me.....well, next thing you know I am looking at my insides on the TV. Not an every day occurrence. I am glad I am still awake, but unfortunately, it hurts quite a bit when they are turning the corners with the camera inside your colon. I yell, owww. Not sure how loud, as I am pretty drugged up. Well, next thing I know, it is all over, my colon is clean, and looking healthy, and they roll me out back into my little curtained area. The nurse brings me crackers and a slice of cheese and some juice. I am pretty happy to be eating something again. I think it was 38 hours with no food.
The nurse phones my husband to tell him I am ready to be picked up. He has barely made it to Starbucks to get his coffee, and he is back to the hospital to get me. I feel good. I think it is mostly relief that it is all over, and I am a happy owner of a healthy colon. Today is the opening of the new gigantic Wal-Mart in town.....so we drive over to check it out....still feeling a bit lightheaded, lightheaded and happy.

For those who have never had a colonoscopy, I hope you never have to. For those of you who may be looking forward to one (or dreading one) it really isn't that bad....and is over before you know it.

First Night Apart, and my New Job

2008-04-08T09:51:00.000-07:00

Now, I know, it has been a long time, over a year I believe. I have been busy, dating, getting engaged, and then marrying the love of my life. We have now been married for 5 months, and let me see, 19 days. Just a sneeze compared to some people, but I am wondering how the time has gone by so fast. Tonight will be the first time apart since being married. I know, it will be strange and lonely. At least I have the cat to keep me company. I am so glad this separation is a rare occasion.
With getting married, there are a lot of new things. A new house, and new bed, a new neighborhood with new neighbors. New dishes, a new yard with my very own weeds to rip out. Having my own kitchen, which is mine to conquer and clean. Also, a new job.

NOTE: If you have a weak stomach, I would suggest NOT reading on....

Its hard starting a new job, especially after being at my last one for over six years. There is a sense of comfort and belonging after being somewhere for that long. You understand the flow and routine of your coworkers. There is history of funny, sad and unpleasant experiences to recall. There are customers which you have served time and time again, some which are nice, some which are grumpy and some which brighten your day every time you see them. When things are slow in the pharmacy, sometimes we talk saying, "remember the time" and we laugh, or shudder, depending on the memory.
This week at the new pharmacy has been a momentous one for me. I feel like there has been a break through. I began the job, feeling like an outsider. Not knowing my place, or feeling at ease in my new surroundings, a bit like a fish out of water. I kept telling myself, it takes time, the first two weeks are the hardest. And it is true, over time, I began to feel more and more at home. But this week, well, it will remain in my memory, for better or for worse. Tuesday morning, I am behind the counter when I hear a sort of splatting sound, then crying of a small child. I walk out of the dispensary to discover a mother with her little girl, who has thrown up blueberries, all over herself, her doll and the floor. She is wailing, because her doll is now covered in blue puke. I go, grab paper towel and ask someone to page for a wet clean up. Together we clean up the area, That little girl must have eaten a lot of blueberries. Other customers walk around. I have cleaned up worse, thankfully it is 90% partially digested blueberries.
Saturday. serving a man in a motorized cart. He has a small dog with him, which has jumped off the cart and the man is trying to get him back on. I hear someone say something, like "poo". I come around the counter, and there, right on the carpet in front of the pharmacy is a fair size dark brown poo. Up on the mans cart, there is a second pile. The man gets out a baggy, but can't reach it from his position on his cart. I go and get the paper towel once more. I get a big hand full of papertowel, and pick of the offending pile, and then the second, and place it in the baggy. The smell, by this time has reached my nose and is vile. I have to race back into the pharmacy to prevent myself from loosing my breakfast. I ask, do we have any lysol, or cleaner we can clean the carpet with?? What are the chances, of cleaning dog poo and child puke all in one week, in a grocery store pharmacy?? Well, despite the gross factor, cleaning poo and puke, really make a person feel at home. Perhaps its the length of time I have been there that has been the major contributing factor, but I like to think that the poo and puke had a part. Today as I am at home on a day off, I, for the first time since being at the new pharmacy thought, I am going to kinda miss being at the pharmacy, and visiting with my coworkers. I think it is a good sign.
New things can be scary and difficult to adjust to, but time, and memorable incidents make it all better.

Canada and Christmas

2006-12-22T22:31:00.000-08:00

December 20, 2006

So close to Christmas. I am now home. Africa, sun, sand, humidity, now just a dream. I am in the cold, wet Northwest. I came home early, and so suprised family and friends. It was a very hard secret to keep, but so worth the looks of shock and suprise on people I love faces. The journey home seems to me much like a marathon, with our travel time at 39 hours from door to door. Tomorrow I return to work, and thus begins my reality at home. I have been a bit in a dream world these past few weeks, and wonder, who’s life is this that I am living. Worlds here and in Liberia are so different, it is sometimes hard to reconcile them.
Hard to believe Christmas Day will be upon us in just a few short days. Yes, I am not done my Christmas shopping. I find it difficult to focus.....to find that perfect gift....I go to the stores and am overwhelmed by the selection of gifts and food. I guess this is my bit of culture shock. I told Heather, its an odd time to come home, because it seems every few days there is a Christmas party or get together, and everyone is so focused on getting their shopping done. I feel like I have entirely lost my Fall, and came from Summer in Africa directly to Christmas in Canada. Its a bit of a jump mentally.
I feel a bit sad, about the end of my blog about Africa...I wonder, what is there to write about now. There is never an end to things to write about, the question is, who really has the time to read it all. Do people really want to read about life in the slow lane, on Vancouver Island, the life of Rebecca, Pharmacy Technician extrodinaire (yes, that is me being silly, feel free to laugh)
Tomorrow family will arrive, and it will be busy, we will finally put up the tree, and perhaps it will dawn on me..yes it is Christmas.

Merry Christmas to you all as we celebrate the birth of the King, Jesus Christ, my saviour and friend.

Bears Bags and Children

2006-11-28T07:04:00.000-08:00

Well. Its been, what...ten whole days. Crazy. Time is ticking along quite steadily and I am begining to think about my return home. When we get home it will be almost Christmas, which will certainly be a shock with the hot weather we have here. The last thing on my mind is Christmas. Here, there are no lights, no stores playing Christmas music, no advertisments on TV, cause, well....no TV. We did celebrate the first Sunday of Advent with waffles and lighting the Hope Candle. But, yep, still seem like summer to me:)
This past Friday Heather and I held a special kids club. We made up some gift bags for all the kids. Compassion International, who helped us fill our container with some used clothes, and hospital beds and other items sent all these knit stuffed bears, inside fabric drawstring bags. We took those, added some crayons, candy, notebook and a colouring book that Heather designed. Tada..gift bag. The bears were very cute, all with different expressions, and outfits. Anyhow, the night before I was making carmel corn for our festive event, and then stuffing bags with the goodies. Our colouring books were taken to the printers, but still we didn’t have them back. Club starts 9 am. Yep, I was a little worried. The sheets for the books arrived at 8:30, so we were frantically (okay, perhaps I was the only frantic person) collating, folding and stapling the books together. Oh, and the printers did the pages on two sizes of paper, some on 8.5 by 11 and some A4. Arg. So we had to trim down the A4 to the right size. Anyhow....I say to Heather, why do I come up with these ideas.....it always happens, crunch time and I am worrying about how it will all turn out, and feeling like nothing will work out. The night before we counted the bags. There were 59 bags. The week previous at club, there were 59 children. I was thinking, if they know it is a special club, there may be way more kids....so I start worrying. Heather tells me, don’t worry, God will have it all figured out. I stlil worry. So 59 bags. I had extra candy and crayons, so we took those, and one extra notebook and a few extra colouring books. We arrive, only 15 mintues late. I say Heather, can you count the kids...She counted, I don’t know how many times. Maybe six times. Problem with kids....they move around. She came up with a few different numbers. Finally, she comes to 59. The end comes, they have had their snack, we have taken a group photo (very challenging let me tell you. There were several carmel corn related altercations that broke out) Then we get the kids to sit down. I pray, and Kathleen and the Ngenda children bring out the boxes full of gift bags. I tell them. Stay in your seats, you can look in the bags, but don’t take anything out now, wait till you get home....As we pull out the first few bags...their voices start to chatter excitedly. We go down several rows. By this time some of the kids have looked in the bags to find the teddy bears and other items. The excitement grows. It gets louder and louder... it grows to a virtual roar. They were soooo happy and so excited to get a teddy bear for each one, and a bag. I turn around and one is putting the bag over his shoulders. I look in the front row at the smaller ones, and not surprisingly they have ignored my stern directions, and have their bears out, dancing on the tables. Everyone of those children was so happy and appreciative. Even the older boys, who I was worried would be “too cool” for the bears. The last row. Everyone has a bag, except one boy. I go back, there is one bag left. Wow. Talk about the perfect number. I had prayed to God all morning, please dear God, let there be 59 children or less. And He answered our prayers. Zechariah, one of the older boys, he came forward, and on behalf of all the children said thankyou. I could tell he was very happy, and moved. He kept saying, we have nothing to give to you, but we want to say thank you. I tell them, that is was our joy to give them the gifts, and it made us so happy to see them happy. That is a special memory.
On our way out, there was one boy who couldn’t be at school, because he was sick. I gave him the extra notebook and candy and crayons and colouring book. Unfortunately we had no bear and bag for him. There are several other children hanging around, that aren’t part of our group, so I give them all the rest of the extra candy and colouring books. I am reminded, there are so many children here. So many needs. The children who were walking by, probably about 10 years old were working, carring loads on their head to sell at market. They don’t go to school. So many needs. I am happy and sad all at the same time.

Menus and Spellcheck

2006-11-18T14:30:00.000-08:00

Since Heather has been here, for 5 weeks now, oh, and three, no four days she says (not that she is counting or anything) we have been out twice to a restaurant to have a special treat. The first was when we went down to immigration to get her passport stamped. Kathleen took us. Its funny (well to me anyhow) we go to immigration, and the officer looks at her passport and says, oh you have just arrived. The date of entry was 10-11-06, and so he thought it was November 10th, 2006, when really it was October 11, 2006. In which case, she would have just entered the country that very day. We explained, no, she had been in the country one month. She is now good to stay until January 11th. So, we carry on to do a little shopping, and then to lunch, at a restaurant, the Beirut, for some Lebanese food (big Lebanese population here). Heather puruses the menu, she is looking at hamburgers, she hasn’t had one in over a month. She gets to one, and it lists all the condiments, and finishes, “on at toasted bum”. We all had a really good laugh about that. I wonder if they sell alot of toasted bum. Anyhow. She was going to take a photo, but the waiter came and took the menus before she could. Today, we went for pizza at the Mona LIza. We ordered the four cheese pizza. The first ingredient listed was pecoroni. Of course, we think, another unfortunate typo, it should be pepperoni and so, we enjoy a good laugh. We get the pizza, no pepperoni. Heather and I discuss it, should we say anything, Heather says, perhaps its a type of cheese. I say, there is no way it is a type of cheese. It doesn’t sound like a cheese name. When the waiter returns, I ask, he grabs a menu, and we look, he says, yes, there should be pepperoni. One of the manager comes out, and tells us, that pecoroni, is a type of cheese. OOps. Bec was wrong. Yes. I admit, it happens from time to time. Well, it did provide us with a good laugh.
In other totally unrelated news, this next week we will spend painting black boards that we will be donating to some local schools. I will keep you updated.
OH, and I went to the World Cheese Index. The cheese is really called Pecorino, and is an Italian cheese made from sheeps milk with 25 - 35% Milk Fat. Good to know.

Sunny November

2006-11-09T11:37:00.001-08:00

November 9, 2006

Thursday night. We forgot to drink our papaya leaf tea last night. Oops. Instead of taking pills for malaria prophylaxis the fam and I drink papaya leaf tea twice a week. Kathleen dries the leaf, then pounds it in a mortar into a powder. It is very bitter, but we add lots of sugar. It sure beats taking a pill. So far, I have not gotten malaria, so, so far so good. I told Kathleen we should market it in Canada. Perhaps it is good for some other disease:)
This evening, before dinner Heather and I took the kids to the beach for a nice dip in the ocean. We stayed almost long enough to watch the sun set. Me be the super cautious aunty wanted to be sure we got home before dark. The water was great, the ocean is always warm here, and the waves weren’t too big, so we could swim around quite well. Then the children attempted to dam the lagoon, unfortunately for them the water was washing away the sand as fast as they could pile it up. I guess it never hurts to try though.
Tomorrow morning we will have kids club. A few weeks ago I got Heather to teach every one how to make paper airplanes. There are 50 children regularly now. It was chaos. Fun, but chaos. It is shocking to me, that children have to be, number one, taught to make a paper airplane, and number two, have difficulty folding a piece of paper in a straight line, and number three, follow fairly basic instructions, like fold the left corner into the middle. It is really hard to imagine, but these kids don’t have the opportunities to do things like make paper airplanes, or use sissors, or colour, and paint. For me it is such a small thing, to go up there, and spend a few hours on my Friday, but I do hope, that they don’t just remember the crazy white lady, singing silly songs, or the colouring, but that they can see love and care of our Heavenly Father through me. Last week there was one small boy, must not be older than 2 years old. “Teacher, Teacher,” he calls me, “I want a pencil”. He sees all the other kids have gotten pencils, now he wants one. This tiny child, in amongs the 5 year olds, and 8 and 10 year olds. Every time I go, I am surprised. At how much fun I have, at how much fun they have, and how, we never have enough time for them to colour.
Last week I had a couple firsts. Got pulled over by the police, for a registration check. That was fine, till the man looks in then tells me it is against the law to drive in flip flops. Oops. How was I to know?? I claimed complete ignorance. He told me, I am going to have to charge you. I say, really?? He tells me I have to go the the station, I tell him I have 3 other children at home who I need to go back to. We were at a bit of an impass when my nephew Josh came to my rescue. He says. She’s sorry, she won’t do it again. He let me go. I tell Josh. “Boy I am glad you came and not Heather, can you imagine how it would have gone if there had been two of us foreigners in the vehical?” Okay, I actually said white women. We like to think colour doesn’t make a difference, but it does. It generally makes the price go up.
I also watched James gut a chicken for the first time. I am pretty sure I could do it in a pinch. I’m ready for survivor:) Well I hope everyone is enjoying November thus far. Here, it is hot, and humid, nothing like November that I know.

Sunny November

2006-11-09T11:37:00.000-08:00

Chicken Dinner

2006-10-31T06:57:00.000-08:00

Its Tuesday. Monday seems a lifetime ago. Time sometimes seems to stand still. This past weekend we all made a trip up to Gbarnga in Bong County. James claims it is a 3 hour drive. I believe it is closer to 4. It was a three hour drive when the road had a regular surface, and not pockmarked with potholes and ditches. By the time we were out of the city on Friday night, it was already dark, which always makes driving even more of a challenge, as its harder to see the potholes coming. There was 8 of us, so we had to take two vehicals, we had the girls in the Jeep and the boys in the car. It was great to have leg room, and not having someone sitting on my lap like last time. On our way through Red Light, a very muddy, congested market area we met up with two large UN tanks. Of course my camera batteries died, so they were gone before I could take a picture. Its not often you get stuck in traffic next to a tank. We made it into Gbarnga at 10:30pm, had some rice and soup for dinner, and headed for bed. Heather and I lucked out with a room all to ourselves. I slept great, no kicking, no teeth grinding. The next morning we had pancakes for breakfast at the Catholic compound where we stayed, and Heather and I learned the art of sucking oranges. Yes, that is right, sucking oranges. Its the freshest orange juice you will ever have. You start with an orange, with the outer rind peeled off, but still with the white pithy part on, then you bite off the bottom, or is it the top.....we had a very long debate which end was which. Then you squeeze the life out of the poor little orange, and suck all the juice out. Its a very satisfying experience. Heather claims this is how she will eat oranged from now on.
After breaky, we got ready, and Josh, James, Heather and I headed for the village of Pilliloweh (no idea how to spell that). First we bought some candy to give to the kids there and some water, then we were off. first we drive on a back road to the village of Dematah where we parked, then we walked into the village. Its a nice 30 minute stroll through the trees and grass. On the way we learned that a man had been bitten by a snake that morning and died. I suddenly became a bit more aware of my feet and the surrounding grass along the path. When we arrived at the village, we learn that the snake was caught in his trap, and assuming it was dead, the man picked it up and it bit him on the arm. By the time he returned back to his village, it was too late, and the venom had done its work. People are not taught how to properly treat snake bites or other problems, but instead, turn to “country medicine”.
Our time in the village was spent mostly eating. They fed us bananas, and fresh roasted corn, sugar cane and something called country bread. It is new rice that is roasted and pounted into a powder. I walked around, took photos, talked to people. James twin sister killed us a chicken and made us rice and soup. They don’t use cutting boards. Try to imagine cutting up a chicken with no cutting board. I had never thought about it before, but it requires different techniques. James worked some magic, and managed to get them to cook him a second chicken. It was his uncles rooster, a pretty white one that found himself in the pot. Earlier, the rooster has been walking into the house where we were sitting, and Josh told it that if it kept coming in the house, he would be dinner. His prediction became true.
A boy in the village found a baby rat....so Honey, James niece was walking around with it on her head. I asked her what she was going to do with it....she said, play with it. Not alot to do in the village. Definately a different way of life. On a happy note, I believe Heathers fear of chickens is lessening.
Sunday morning we went to a local baptist church. The sermon was in English and Kpelle, the local dialect. It was on how to be a good baptist. Not being a baptist, I admit to drifting in and out...I know, what a thing to admit to.
After church, we had lunch back at the compound and headed for home. I got to drive as Kathleen was sick. We made it home in one piece I am happy to say, and didn’t get stopped by any immigration. Thank you God.

Enter Dry Season

2006-10-23T14:25:00.001-07:00

We have definately entered dry season. Today, Heather, Kathleen and myself headed downtown for a meeting at Group of 77 in preparation for a new Family Literacy Kathleen is hoping to start and to run some other errands. It was my hottest day here yet I think. We got stuck in traffic, and without airconditioning, well lets just say, there was a lot of sweating going on. Also, we ran into some people Kathleen knows, so had a small chat on the highway. At one point we were driving in a third lane, on the two lane highway. I said to Kathleen, isn’t this cheating, and she said, nope, completely allowed. Well, if it got us there faster, I wasn’t complaining. I was very pleased to get home, and out of the hot sun. This afternoon I taught my two literacy students. Did a spelling test, some new spelling words, and learned a little bit about adjectives. I’ll admit, grammar was never my strong point, and so I am learning, just a step ahead of them:)
It was a sad weekend this weekend. We were very happy on Saturday Morning, when we saw that our goat Taffy had given birth to two baby goats. Very cute, tiny black fuzzy babies. Sadly, they were small and weak, we believe born too early, and one died Saturday night and the other Sunday night. Sunday night, I went in the goat pen with Kathleen, she was in there trying to feel for a heartbeat. When we found none, we took the little body to be buried, and put her in small cardboard box. Taffy, as soon as her baby was gone started to bleat. It was very sad. It really reminded me of the fragility of life. We cannot control who lives and who dies, when it comes down to it, only God holds that power. He creates us, gives us life and breath, and knows the numbers of our days. For some, that might be disconcerting, but I find comfort in that, it’s one less thing for me to worry about, God has it all figured.

Appliances

2006-10-15T08:08:00.000-07:00

Wow, I can’t believe that it has been two weeks. I guess it has been a little quiet around here. This week was an exciting one, as my friend Heather from home came to join me here. She left home Monday, and arrived on Wednesday. The kids painted a wonderful “Welcome to Liberia Feather Hyffie” sign. I told them how people have a hard time pronouncing her last name, Fyffe (said like the instrument fife) and to tease her I call her Fiffy or other silly names, so the kids thought that was great. Its funny, how sometimes I can say things to them, and they don’t listen at all, then other times I say something, and I never hear the end of it. Last night, we were reading our devotions in Job, and at then end, there is questions for everyone, from William up. I’ll be honest, my mind sometimes wanders during devotions. I know, horrible of me isn’t it. Anyhow, the kids are very smart, and usually get their questions right. It got to me, and the question was something in regards to wisdom, and who doesn’t speak it, or something, and the hint was the answer started with two D’s. Out of desperation, because I really didn’t know the answer, I guessed “the Deaf and Dumb”. WRONG. The answer, which of course everyone else knew was “Death and Destruction”. Of course, dumb (or mute) people couldn’t speak wisdom. Anyhow. For the rest of the evening, the children made fun of me. Deaf and Dumb. Okay, sometimes I am not exactly on the ball.
So Heather made it safe and sound, minus one suitcase we are still waiting on. We got to go to the beach yesterday and enjoy the sand and sun. It was nice to have her with me, as many times it is just me and the children.
Yesterday, I decided, today is the day I will start to wash my own laundry. Now some of you may be agast, that at 28, I am not doing my own laundry, but the thing is, here, it gets done by hand, in big tubs, and then wrung out and hung dried. We have a washer woman that comes three times a week. So, she washes our clothes, bless her. I thought, with Heather coming, that would put it up to 8 people she is washing for, so I thought, it might be nice for her to have a bit of a break, so Heather and I from now on will wash our own clothing. I bought some soap, and Oneisimus gave me a few pointers. I think it took me about an hour or hour and a half. It is hard work, in the sun, scrubbing, and rinsing, and wringing. I definately can appreciate Martha a lot more now. Later, Kathleen asked me to take the area rug out and beat it. So, there I am with a big old stick, wacking the heck out of the area rug, to get the dirt out. Heather got the joy of burning garbage. Here, there is no garbage disposal service. We give all our veggy scraps to the chickens, the meat and bone scraps to the dogs and cats, the burnables, we burn, and the metal tins get thrown over the fence. I know, you are all thinking, how horrible, to throw your garbage over the fence, but apparently there are boys that come along and collect the scrap metal and melt it down to make things, like pots or spoons. I felt a bit like I was living in the 1800’s washing my clothes, and beating the carpet, which by the way, is a great way to get rid of any frustration you may have pent up inside.
I makes you appreciate things like, washing machines and vacuums, and garbage trucks. Daily tasks here, they take up much of peoples time. Women here work hard, to feed their families, and to cook and clean and wash clothes. I see them sometimes, at the mouth of a river or lagoon, pounding their clothes on the rocks. Try to imagine carrying your clothes on your head to the nearest body of fresh water to wash clothes, or even to bathe. It would certainly change the dynamics of our communities.
Well that is it for today. I hope you all had a wonderful Thanksgiving last weekend, celebrating everything God has so richly blessed us with. Perhaps you can say a little thankyou next time you do laundry for your washing machine:)
BEC

Containers and Trucks

2006-10-02T08:28:00.000-07:00

Ah, a fresh new month. Full of possibility and opportunity. Our lives have temporarily become occupied by sorting boxes and boxes and more boxes, full of clothing, medical supplies and books. We were so happy with all the wonderful things sent in the container. Saturday I woke up, and remembered, today is the day we unload the container. I was so thankful that I was feeling better, after being sick with strep throat all week. I heard a few pitter patters on the roof, and sent a prayer up that it would be sunny for the unloading. By 10 am all the work crew and offical observers were here, and ready to get to work. The sun was shinining, by far the hottest day we have had since I have come. Kathleen even got a sunburn. Because I still wasn’t completely recovered Kathleen didn’t want me moving anything heavy, so I was in the kitchen cooking, split pea soup and rice for 30. Every thing went really smoothly. ELWA hospital came, and took a whole lot of medical supplies and 8 hospital beds. An Orphanage, Suzy Gunther came and took some boxes that were for them. Everything else is in our garage, front porch and living room. It is a bit overwhelming. So, that was Saturday, in a nutshell. Sunday, we sorted all the boxes of books, seperated from office supplies, teaching supplies and clothing (after church of course).
Monday. I woke up to the alarm at 6:35am. Joy got up, and I fell back asleep. Till glorious 8:20 am. Oops. I am trying to make up for last week. So, I got up, had breaky, (oatmeal) then asked Kathleen if it was okay for me to study, unless she needed me. She said she was okay, so I headed to Anatomy and Physiology land in my room. Now today, we were supposed to take the empty container to the property, which is about 10 miles down the road, and off the road about a mile, on sandy, muddy, not even developed into a road yet ground. James has been worried about it for weeks, knowing the day would come when we would have to move the container there. The worry being that the container and semi will get bogged down and stuck there. So while I was studying, it started just pouring rain, and I thought to myself, it is like someone up there has a bucket, that they are just pouring over Liberia. Then I thought wishfully, maybe there is a small area over the property where it isn’t raining. Anyhow, back to muscles in the body when the house sort of shook. I thought, probably thunder. A while later there was some flashes of lightening and rumbling of thunder, so I thought, it must of been it. Well, not too long after, Joy comes running in the room. “Aunty Bec, you have to come quick, mom says you have to bring your camera, and there has been a head on collision, and some man has his legs broken and you have to take pictures.” Aunty Bec replies “Calm down Joy” and thinks where is my camera, and I don’t really want to take a picture of some horrible accident scene. Well, I found the camera and walked out, still just pouring rain. There are about six people on our porch. I look out, I can’t take my camera in the rain, so start looking for an umbrella. No umbrella. Finally Morris, the childrens tutor comes and I take the umbrella from him.
The first thing I notice, our front gate is now just a wide open gaping space. I walk out in my barefeet, as the water is up past my ankles with all the rain. Two Dump trucks have had a head on collision. One is sprawled across the road, the other, has smashed through our cement fence, taking out the gate and quite a strech of fence. I was thankful when I made it out, the man with the leg broken was already gone to hospital. The drivers apparently both fled the scene. Doesn’t look too good. Yep, so I walked out there took photos of everything. The we had lunch, after lunch some friends came by, so we were out on the porch looking at the damage, when a yellow taxi swerves off the road and lands in the ditch, right between the fence and the truck on the road (its engine fell out, so the truck is still on half the highway) Apparently no one in the taxi was injured and its brakes had failed. Seems to be a lot of that going around. Unbelievable, two crashes in one day. Needless to say, the container is not being moved to the property today. Oh, and it has stopped raining.
No wonder Monday has such a bad reputation, what a way to start the week. Untill next time. BEC

Container

2006-09-30T14:57:00.000-07:00

Just a brief note to say the container has arrived. We have been waiting for so long. We are all pretty tired as we spent today unloading it. Check out the photos on my becs pics link. I will write more later. Until then, TTFN. BEC

How I can tell I am in Liberia:

2006-09-24T08:40:00.000-07:00

10. When I am woken up by Joy either kicking me or elbowing me in her sleep.
9 When I am woken up by roosters crowing at 4:30am
8. When I am woken up by goats bleating at 6am
7. When I have to kill a cockroach that climbed on me whilst in the shower (there is also a very large spider that lives in the bathroom. He hangs out on the wall. He eats mosquitos, or at least he better be. I always get a little nervous when I am brushing my teeth, and I see him on the wall above the mirror, and I think, he could just drop down, and land right on me if he wanted, and have flash backs to Arachniphobia. I try not to dwell on those thoughts)
6. When Whiskers the cat kills a mouse in my room
5. Having people yell at me everytime I am out on the street
4. When we eat dinner by candlelight every night
3. When I eat rice at least once a day
2. When I get to grind my own meat for spaghetti sauce
1. When I get to roast my own peanuts for snack.

I know these things can occur in other countries, like I am pretty sure Canadians own both goats and roosters, but for me, it is purely a Liberian experience. And there really is nothing like freshly roast peanuts, or even home made peanut butter. I will be honest though, I wasn’t thrilled that Whiskers ate the mouse in my room, but I was glad that she got rid of it. It isn’t too fun having to clean mouse poo off the bathroom counter. I try not to think about my tooth brush. I might have to start sleeping with it under my pillow. This evening Josh came to my room and said “Aunty Bec comes see the fish the Boakai’s gave us” so I went out, and there was this giant fish. Onesimus and I took it out to the back porch and gutted it. The fish here are different. They have things in different spots. A salmon is much easier to gut.

Adult Literacy

2006-09-19T05:12:00.000-07:00

It is hard to imagine, coming from Canada, a place where more than half the population doesn’t read or write. Its more like 70% of the people don’t read or write. When I do my kids club it sometimes poses problems. LIke, getting children to act out a skit. You can’t give them lines to read. You have to take them, say their line, and get them to repeat it several times so they memorize it, then during the skit, you have to cue each child when it is their turn. To teach new songs, there are no song sheets, no overhead projector, no writing on the board. You just sing that song over and over and over until they know it. It isn’t too bad, but I know with my accent, some of the words, they don’t understand what I am singing. I try and explain the meaning of each song, so they can understand what and why we are singing. I have started writing out our memory verses up on the board. I know only perhaps three or four of the kids can read it, but I say each word as I write, and figure, it all contributes to learning.
Last week was my debut as an Adult Literacy teacher. Its funny how I can get so worried about things. Like, how am I going to be able to teach anything. As it turns out, my first class I had one student. I gained one more student the second class. Two students. I am praying for more. But really, if I can help these two young men improve their ability to communicate and understand in a written format, I will be very pleased. Henry is 28, and works at a bulk food store. He finished grade 6 back in 1989 I believe, but because of the war, did not continue. His reading level is about a grade three level. Mathiew is 24 and a tailor. He finished grade 9 in the Ivory Coast, but is trying to improve his English, he says he wants to join the military. We read Dr. Seuss yesterday Hop on Pop. He could read most words, but had trouble with his p’s, w’s and th’s. So, thus far, it is more like tutoring than teaching, but I hope that I can help at least two people. (still hoping for a few more though) Kathleen will start teaching her beginner class and teachers class (for people wanting to teach Adult Literacy) as soon as we get our container from the port, and have all that paper work out of the way. It is hard for people to take time away from work to go to school, but I do believe it will benefit them in the end. Most people here are barely scraping by. Living here makes me appreciate public school back home so much. I attended elementary school in Revelstoke, then Chemainus El. and still can remember many of the lessons I learned there. I had so many amazing teachers, that obviously loved their jobs, and took time to prepare and to instill the basics in me as well as my classmates. I remember in Kindergarten, I had trouble with my b’s and d’s, getting them backwards. I am glad my teacher took the time to help me with that. In grade three I had a speech impediment, I couldn’t say sssss. I said thhhh. So, I would go off with a speech therapist, who would make me say baths baths baths, over and over. I am also very thankful for her. I know our school system has its faults, but they are trying. Education is a gift, that I am very thankful to have recieved, and now that I am older, I have the skills to educate myself, and others around me. I have been working on a biology degree for the past few years, and every class I take, I am amazed at the complexity of life and matter. God created an amazing world, and has given us these minds to discover and retain all sorts of information. The more I study, for instance about plants, the more I appreciate them. We were walking on the beach on Sunday, and there is grass growing there, in the sand. Wow, not every plant can grow in the sand. It takes some special adaptations to be able to do that. Today I was reading about muscle tissue, and I am so thankful God created me with smooth muscle tissue, that involuntarily moves food through my digestive tract. Education is a gift, and I hope, in my small way, that I can share it with a few people here, so they can better understand and appreciate their world, and to have greater skills for work and everyday lfie.

Quiet Afternoon

2006-09-14T13:48:00.000-07:00

I think its amazing. This morning I slept it. I was very happy to. Normally the goats start bleating and chickens start their cock-a-doodle-doo far too early for my likings. Anyhow. This morning, there was no noise, except for the pouding of rain on the rooftop. Ah, the rain that drowns out all other noise, the rain that keeps the pesky goats and chickens inside their pens, the rain that keeps it nice and cool, so we can sleep at night. Now, this afternoon, the sun is shining, the birds cheep softly, and the house is beautifully quiet. Yes, the family is all out. It is nice to have a few minutes of sun, solitude and silence.This morning as I walked out to the car, with my umbrella, ankle deep in water (from all the rain) I was not feeling as amiable towards the rain. It is tricky, to get in the car, and shut the umbrella and to close the door, without getting absolutely drenched. I think perhaps there is a trick that I am not familiar with. We had a meeting this morning downtown, with Group of 77 in regards to resettlement. We parked on the road instead of driving into the yard. We walked across the road, and of course the road was flooded, thankfully I was wearing flippy flops, and so waded through the garbage strewn water and prayed that I didn’t step into anything yucky. Kathleen was wearing nice shoes, and so she had to walk half a block down the road to find somewhere she could ford the stream. Point one for flippyflops. After our meeting, Kathleen had another meeting, so I just sat quietly in the corner. The next business of the day, going to the Ministry of Finance to see if the form that needs to be signed by some person, was signed yet. We arrive, it is now drizzling, but I have forgotten the umbrella at Group of 77. Oh well. Our destination is the 7th floor. We walk in, and for the first time, I notice people entering the elevator. I say, the elevators work, Kathleen says yes. This is my third time, and we have never taken the elevator. Apparently, all this time, it has been functioning. OH well, I guess the excersize is good for us, so we hoof it to the 7th floor. We arrive. Security tells some man to move so I can sit down, and Kathleen goes into the office. Minutes later she is out, following some man with our file. Down we go to the third floor. To some other man in another office. Apparently he can’t do anything, there are documents that they need. Kathleen says, this is the first I have heard of these documents. She has been going to Minister of Finance for at least a month now, chasing after documents for the release of our container. Ah, beaurocratic innefficiency. I sit and wonder how any work gets down in this place. It is a mystery. (remember, this is just an outsiders thinking). We leave. We are parked on a hill, one way. The traffic is moving very slowly. Kathleen decides to back up the road to the next intersection. I tell her, the last thing we need is to get pulled over by the police. She says, this is Liberia. Hm. I am definatley not Kathleen. We make it, after a little manouvering around a big tree root.
So. We are still waiting on documents to clear the container. We have a “duty free” waiver, but they want to charge about 1500 or so to clear it. So much for free.
I have started my Adult Reading/Writing class. Thus far I have one student. We have put advertisment on the radio, but the best way is by word of mouth. I am hoping for a few more student. My student is actually from Ivory Coast, and is hoping to improve his English skills, to improve his chances of getting gainful employement. Kathleen will start teaching, as soon as we recieve our container. Until then she is a bit tied up.
I am now half way through my trip here. In some ways it feels I have been here forever, but I am only here 12 more weeks. That doesn’t seem long at all. Tomorrow morning I will be going to my kids club up the road. We are doing stories about Jesus. They love to sing and to colour. I think we will have popcorn again for snack. I will try and remember the salt this time.
Last night, we had a bit of an accident. Joshy and I (my 13 year old nephew) were doing our evening dishes. He had boiled water to warm the rinse water (normally we wash in cold), and was about it add it when I turned around, and elbowed the kettle, he dropped it, splashing boiling water on himself, me and all over the floor. He also managed to get a giant gash on his big toe. There we were, him sitting on a chair with his feet in a bowl of cold water, me sitting on the floor with my feet in the same bowl when he says he doesn’t feel well. I say “the last thing I need on me is projectile vomit”. Thanks to Joy, he got a bucket just in time. I guess he can’t stand the sight of blood, much like his mother and father. Needless to say, neither of us were in any shape to do dishes, so we spent the rest of the evening with our feet in bowls of cold water, and with cold compresses on various body parts. We had some chocolate, which really helped the situation. The burns are really not bad, with me, one on my elbow and ankle, and him, one on his foot. It could have been so much worse, so we are very grateful it isn’t.
In some happy news, I have got a 2 month stamp in my passport. I can stay. Yay. I gave it to a lawyer we know, and he took it to immigration, and I am not sure what he did, but he came back with it stamped. What a relief. Thank you God.
Well I am sure, there is some kids club planning I need to look after, and I believe this is a bit long, so I will end here. Happy Thursday. BEC

Hello

2006-09-09T13:54:00.000-07:00

I just wanted to write a little note of appreciation. I love getting all the little notes/comments people send. It is so fun for me to know that people all over can read my little musings and enjoying them. I love to write, so for me it is really fun. It has also been great to hear from friends and family while I am so far away. What is the saying, distance makes the heart grow fonder.
Today was Saturday, and I enjoyed a nice walk down the beach as the sun set this evening with some friends. It is so beautiful with the waves and the sky line. Just got a bit wet with the waves. Today the men were out shoveling red dirt for the road to James and Kathleens property, where we will put the container once we have emptied it. It is a big job. The road isn't very well defined, and people have put roads through the middle of lots, so you have to be sure to follow the cornerstone markers. The first truck broke down and then it was raining, so they only got two truckloads done. Perhaps next time I will join them, at least to cheer them on.

Anyhow, I hope everyone is happily back to school and enjoying the last few days of summer. Love to you all.

Bec in Liberia

Immigration

2006-09-05T07:54:00.000-07:00

The joys of being in a foreign country. Dealing with immigration. I don’t have it all figured out. When I came, I applied for a 1 year visitor visa. When you arrive, they tell you at the airport, you have 48 hours, or for me 15 days, (I am not sure how they decide) to report to immigration. The first time Kathleen and I went. They tell me I can only be a visitor for 3 months total, then I have to leave, or become a resident. They go and come back with my passport stamped for 75 more days, to total the 90 days. It is now the end of my three months. We go, we sit in some office and talk to some man who works there. He explains the rules, I explain the ambiguity of their Embassy Website in Washington DC. They tell me my 1 year visa is really and entrance visa. The visa says, “Visitor Visa” it doesn’t say “Entrance Visa” No where on the website can I find where is says you can only stay as a visitor in the country for three months. I tell the man, I have no where else to go, I don’t know anyone in any other African Country, I haven’t made arrangements to leave so I can return for three more months. Besides, to get a visa to some other country will be at least $100 USD, plus the airfare. I am not too happy. To appy for residence, it is a one year permit, and costs well, more than I want to pay. The man when he looks at my passport notices the 75 day stamp. He calls an assistant. “who did this?” Apparently they are only supposed to stamp passports for 15, 30 or 60 days at a time. 75 days is not correct. We tell him some man on the second floor stamped it.
Any way I go about it, I am going to end up paying. I ask Kathleen, you think if I go to the US embassy they would stamp my passport saying I had left and entered the country?? I wish. Technicalities. I told Kathleen, I don’t want to do anything illegal. So it looks like I will become a resident. Arg. For three measly months. My passport is with the man at immigration. I am not too happy about that, hopefully Monday we will go and pick it up, and I will have entered some new state of residence. (Tuesday....Okay, I have been to the immigration. Still no visa. Waiting for some man to call who is contacting the commisioner. It is all very confusing to me. )
In other news, we had a package sent to us, about a month or so ago. It has arrived, we got a slip in our mailbox saying there is a package waiting for us. James went to get it, they tell him to come back, they can’t find it. He returns to find they have given the package to some other man who claims it was his name on the package. James says when he was there the employees were using peoples packages to sit on. So now we know how packages get squished in the mail:)
This is life. I guess you just have to go with the flow. We are very sad about the gummy bears in the package.
In other news. We got our duty free status, now we just need our broker to get all the other paper work to free our container from the port. The saga continues.

Out in the neighborhood

2006-08-29T20:43:00.000-07:00

August 29, 2006

Ah, the summer is drawing to a close, at least back home. We will be starting dry season here in a month or so.. I am looking forward to an increase in my daily sun intake. I feel more inspired when it is sunny out. This afternoon I took Joy and William to Coopers beach, just near the house. There is a great lagoon for swimming in, as the ocean waves there are pretty strong. It was us, plus about 15 boys all swimming and having fun. Its okay, but I always feel a bit obtruse....as soon as we start swimming, the whole group sort of migrates our way. I know they are just curious, but it can be a bit unsettling to have so many people watching you swim. They were worried about Joy in the deep water, I tell them, its okay, she can swim. As the boys were leaving one told me, “that girl, she never gets tired...” I guess they were impressed with her swimming ability. On the way home, guys were playing football in the back field behind our house, so we cut through the neighbors yard. As we walked by I apoligized and asked if it was okay to walk through. He said “no problem, any time, we are neighbors”. When ever you go walking around, many of the paths cut right through peoples front yards. You will see women bathing their children, or making dinner, or plaiting hair. Here it is polite to say hi as you walk by. And there are chickens and ducks everywhere. Just wandering around. Some have things tied to their ankles, like bits of plastic, I guess to tell whose is whose. Yesterday we were out walking and saw a cock fight. Pretty cool to see...their feathers all fluffed out. Speaking of chicken, we ate one of our roosters today. Noah wouldn’t eat it. He says he won’t eat chicken from the yard, only from the store.
Tonight we had dinner by candlelight. It is nice sometimes not to have the generator on as it is so noisy. I have been home for the last few weeks alot as Kathleen has had to go to town pretty much every day to the minister of finanance to try and get DutyFree privilages to clear our container. She will be going back tomorrow, and also to immigration. I only have a week left until I need to get a new stamp on my passport.
Oh and on a totally different note...I am sure I don’t have athletes foot. My one toe was peeling, but I think it was just a blister, becuase they were never itchy, and I have had no reoccurance. Yay. And Kathleens outbreak on her hands is gone. But our deer and dog have mange, so we need to treat them. We got some medicine, so we just have to sort out the dosage. I also learned how to tell if a goat is anemic. You look at the bottom rim of the eye...it should be red like a persons, if it is pale pink it means they are anemic. Its becuase of all the parasite worms. We gave our goats all a shot of iron on Sunday. Fun times. Every day is a new adventure. Did you know the femur is the longest and strongest bone in the human body. Yep, I have been studying my anatomy. On that note, I will end. Nighty night. BEC

Past Week or So

2006-08-22T07:13:00.000-07:00

Well, it is Tuesday and the sun is shining, the generator is humming, and the kids are cleaning their room. If they get done soon we will take a trip to the beach. Last week was a busy one. We were hosting three Mercy Ship Reps who were here for meetings with the government in preparation of their return to the country in 2007. It was a fun week, but its amazing at how many more dishes get used with only three extra people. I was behind the scenes during the week, at home with the kids, helping with cooking and cleaning while everyone else was busy attending meetings and writing up reports. Every night it seemed there was a new draft or report to put together. I enjoyed visiting with our guests, who are originally from Texas. The Mercy Ships does amazing work with facial sugeries and eye surgeries amongst many other things. This weekend we celebrated the boys Noah (8th) and Josh’s(13th) birthdays. We drove, along with another family to Tubmansburg, where there is a lake that used to be a mine for Iron ore I believe. It was rainy, but that didn’t dampen the fun. I brought my passport this time, just incase we got stopped by any immigration. We segregated into the girls vehical and the boys vehical. I am sure ours was much much quieter. We led the way, and when arrived James complained that Kathleen drove too fast. I, in fact was surprised at the speeds we reached. Kathleen says “I don’t break the law often...” -only when she really needs to. Apparently taxi drivers make her mad. I told her, when you get angry, that’s when accidents happen. I am often the voice of reason:) At the lake, we couldn’t go to the beachy area as the Pakistan Battalion is stationed right there, and they were having a special program as it was their independance day. Apparently we should have phoned ahead. We went down to another area with a couple palava huts, and broke out the cake and chicken wings and inner tubes. There was a rocky cliff where we were, and the children and Mr. Wains were all jumping off the cliff. I didn’t jump. My excuse....I can’t see to make my way up or down the cliff without my glasses, and I can’t jump off a cliff whilst wearing glasses....just not willing to take that risk. I did have a nice little swim though. It is really clean water and deep. I swam out and of course scenes from Lake Placid jump into my mind, and I wonder, is there any crocadiles living in this lake. I remind myself it is man made and not likely. Plus, I figure they would go for the smaller children anyhow :) It’s like when I swim in the ocean, I always imagine sharks swimming beneath me. So it was a good day had by all. On the way home we were in a market area, very congested, and muddy sholders. Kathleen was getting frustrated and decided to pass a taxi....I momentarily thought we may have a head on collision. Thankfully she gunned it. While passing, Joy screaches....that man just blew a kiss at you. Apparently he liked Kathleens driving.
This week I am increasing the amount of time I spend studying Anatomy and Physiology, and have been working on the resettlement project paper work. Grandma showed up yesterday from the village, so will be staying with us for some unknown amount of time. She has a room out in the cottage. Kathleen is trying to get the Dell computer to work as it has some error message and won’t boot. Also she is working on getting the Duty Free status for the container. As far as we know, the boat is in port, but that is all we know. James bought cement today, so David the mason can start building a cement pad for the container to live on once it is emptied. Cement prices have rocketed I guess becuase of the demand, for all the construction going on, then there is not enough on the market, so they jack the prices. I am not sure what price we got. So....I hear fighting in the other room, wonder how the “cleaning” is going. That’s it for now. Until next time. BEC

On My Mind

2006-08-10T12:49:00.000-07:00

August 10, 2006

This week I have been going through the files of all the people we have interviewed at Coconut Plantation and the Group of 77. I am trying to pick out 10 families or individuals that will be candidates for our resettlement package, which will be supplemented with some building supplies. (This will be done through Grassroots Ministry, some of the people have greater needs, and the package we have will not be sufficient....and so the Group off 77 will try to help these other people in different ways). It is hard for me. I start reading a file, and I look at the photo, and try to imagine what it will be like for this family or person to go home. I have been to a few different villages now, and to different homes around Monrovia. This past week I got a glimpse into what it is like to be disabled in Liberia. We went to see where one lady lives, we'll call her Dee. Now, she has two club feet and walks on the sides of her feet, or really, her ankles. Her job is sweeping at a government office. I am not sure if she is paid by the government for this, or if people just give her money that are walking by. Whatever she makes, it is not enough. When we went to her house, we parked on the side of the road. Then we walk down a rocky hill, I think I had to use my hands to get down. Then we walk along a path that is flooded with water and full of large jagged rocks. It takes us 10 minutes as she can’t walk very quickly. A few places she needs a hand to manover over some water or what have you. This is bad enough when you have two good feet, but when you can barely walk on an even surface it is just not right. When we arrive at her “house” I wonder what is holding it together. It looks like just a bunch of zinc sheets propped up in the shape of a house. There are rocks on the roof holding down the roofing, rusty zinc. Not only that, when I walk out the back door, it is only a skip and a jump and you are in the water, I believe a lagoon. There are no wheelchair ramps or nicley paved walkways here....I know, though I would like to imagine otherwise, her living situation is not an isolated one. People are living in unbareable conditions. I can’t even try to relate to this. This land is a lot her mother bought and gave to her. Many of the disabled people, they don’t want to go back to the interior, where they are originally from, becuase life is that much harder there, perhaps there is no access to medical services, or they are afraid when they can no longer hustle on the street, they will have no way of getting money. But life in the city, as I see it is not a very good environment. There is so many people living in cramped quarters, and so much garbage and pollution. They don’t have designated dumps here, so garbage just gets dumped here there and everywhere. Back to the files of people, several of them own a lot within the greater Monrovia area, but how do you send someone home, when they have land, but the house was burned down or destroyed int he war, or there is no structure on the land at all. Many of these people are in wheelchairs, how are they going to build any sort of structure, and what if the lot doen’st have road access, or is far from the nearest road. I wish I could wave my wand and provide housing for all these people. I have been on the internet looking at Low Cost housing alternatives, special dirt bricks and aerated cement .....it would be so amazing to help build houses here for these disabled people. Well, we will start with the few that we can give some help to, that have family they can go and live with, or have some sort of home to return to, and have some skills that they can run a business or do some trade. They need confidence to go back home, that they can do it, that they have the ability to do something more with their life then exist by begging. They need encouragement and prayer, and support. It is hard in a country, where even the able bodied people are barely getting by. I have no answers, but I hope that in some way, the small thing I have done in interviewing some families, and putting together files, will lead to something greater for them. Please pray for wisdom for Kathleen and I as we choose 10 families, that the packages will be a blessing to them and that they will be happy to return to their homes and extended families.

Quick Trip to Town

2006-08-07T16:14:00.000-07:00

August 7, 2006

So today I spend my morning doing some paper work. Yipee. I was so hungry by 12:45 I was having a hard time thinking straight, so I was very happy to have lunch at 1:30. We had cassava leaf with rice, without red oil much to the dismay of the children (what no red oil they ask, and Joy is off to the pantry for the red oil) You have to understand that cassava leaf is quite dry without the red palm oil. Anyhow. At lunch Kathleen asked if I would like to go with her to the Ministry of Finance in the afternoon. Oh, another trip to some government office. Yippee ki aye. I said I would go if she thought I would help. Perhaps I could smile sweetly at the government man. I suggested perhaps she should take William who is quite good at this sort of thing. We are trying to get the Duty Free status to clear our container. Anyhow. We head out for town. First stop, Fed Ex building. Yesterday Onesimus broke the antennae on Kathleens car. It is one of the ones that goes up and down when you start the vehical. Now it is broken, it has fallen over and drags beside the car. When we stop, a man tells me, the antenna is broken. I know I say. Before I know it, several men are surrounding the anntenna and trying to fix it. I jum out to protect the antenna from the well meaning strange men, who just want to help fix it. I jam it back in its hole. An old beggar man tells me, “your a mechanic now” and as I get back in the car, he is saying “bye mechanic, bye mechanic”. I tell Kathleen how I love it here that when you break down, there is always so much help, everyone wants to give you advice etc. When ever I break down in Canada, I could be on the side of the road for hours with no gallent men to come to my aid.
We continue on to the Minsitry of Finance. We have to show ID to get in. We go in, do our business, and leave with no major problems. We get to the car. We have a flat tire. Completely. Not just a little. Kathleen gets out one of those air compresser dealys that you plug into the cigarette lighter. I am on the ground attaching the hose, and feel the air and hear the horns of vehicals passing very closely. Kathleen is concerned that I will get run over. She would get in trouble for that, letting her little sister get hit by a taxi. So, there she is down there, fiddling with the thing. I think, she is just as likely to get hit as I am. Oh well. I sort of giggle to myself, becuase Kathleen’s blue underwear are peaking out from her nice african dress. There is a group of young men standing and watching the whole process. I think to myself, she has just made their day, they saw some white woman trying to fix her bust tire, and her underwear was showing. There is a fairly steady leak. I suggest we fill the tire, then move to a location nearby that we can change the tire safely without fear of being hit. This is what we do. We pull over on UN Drive, between a no parking zone and right in front of where they are putting in a new electrical pole (apparently they don’t have telephone poles here, no land lines, just cell phones). I get out to get the spare tire from the trunk. A young man comes to help me. Then we realize, we have no tools. Kathleen phones James and he says he will come and bring the tools with him. We are saved. Now we can sit back and relax. Just then I notice that they are going to install the pole. No big machinery though to lift it into place. Nope, there are 10 men, all working together to lift the pole, place the end in the hole and heave it into position. I am amazed. I take out my camera for this opportune moment. A crowd gathers to watch. It is a heavy pole...the men are working very hard to get it into place. Cars and people continue to travel underneath the pole, when with one slip it could fall and crush someone. It takes about 20 or 25 minutes to get the pole in place. It is facinating to watch. They have put in 360 large poles so far and 460 smaller poles. You can see why it is going to take a long time to bring power to all of Monrovia, when the machines are mere men. After that, a boy from Mali comes by selling belts. I have been using Joshuas, so I decide to buy one. You stay in one spot long enouigh and you can buy almost anything. Towels, clothes, toiletries, peanuts, pirated cds and dvds. I stick with my belt. While we wait for James we watch the people go by. The sun is starting to go down, and every where is bright with the setting sun. I am glad I came for the quick trip. It has been a lot of fun for me. Perhaps not too productive, but seeing a electrical pole installed by a bunch of men, well worth the trip.

Village

2006-08-02T14:02:00.000-07:00

I can’t tell you how long I have wanted to go to the village. Okay, maybe I could....since last time I was here two years ago. I wished and hoped, but never had a way to get up there, as travel was not as safe as it is now, and I had no one to go with me. So when Kathleen said we were going to Gbarnga, I was so happy. And, not only was it for fun, but we got to squeeze some “work” in there too. We decided to go to the village on our last day there, Saturday morning. Okay, maybe I should explain more about the village, since it is a little vague perhaps. I just assume people know what I am talking about. This is the village that James my brother-in-law’s mother lives in, and his brother and sister and their families. Grandma, as we call her, or Yakata (her name is actually Younger) is in her 70’s I believe, and doesn’t speak english, except to say Thankyou. She speaks Kpelle. The one word I understand is yes, which sounds like ohwee. I think last time I was here she came down for one or two months and lived with us. I sat next to her at the table, and felt like we bonded. We broke a barrel handle once too, trying to carry it up the stairs (it was full of water and very heavy). I know this, she likes her tea with lots of milk and sugar. Anyhow, so back to the trip. We woke up Saturday morning, and it was pouring. I thought, oh no, maybe we won’t be able to go. (rain always puts a bit of a damper on things:) We had a slow morning, ate our breakfast at the dining hall at the Catholic Retreat centre, packed our bags. Thankfully by this time the rain seceded. (is that a word, I am pretty sure it is, if not, the rain got less) and so we headed out. The kids were very resistant to going, complaining about the rain and the hike through the “jungle” and the “snakes”. Then they were worried we would get lost....Anyhow, we went anyhow. We were able to drive alot farther into the village than they had done previously. There was one very steep hill that was all muddy, but Kathleen drove like an old pro, apparently growing up on the rugged west coast of Vancouver Island prepared her for times such as these. I think half the battle is thinking you can make it, and the other half prayer. It is kinda fun driving through small villages that you know very little vehicals pass....especially ones full of white people. Sometimes you can just see the surprise on peoples faces. As always, the children wave and shout, white woman, white people, even white children...We wave as we drive by, feels almost a bit like a parade.
We get to the last village before ours, and park the truck next to a mud hut. The people are sitting outside, under the outdoor kitchens. It works out very nicely, becuase Samuel who is Kumbah’s husband (James twin sister) just happens to be in the village, so he walks with us, and carries the 50 kg bag of rice we have brought as a gift for Yakata. It is raining, so we bring our umbrellas and I change into my runners, just in case of big mud or snakes. It is only a 25 minute walk to the village. It is called Pilliloweh ( I have no idea of spelling). As we walk there is a woman in front of me carring a big bowl on her head full of something. She is in flip flops and almost slips a few times in the mud. I am in awe of anyone that can carry something on their head. This one guy that is walking with us and helping carry the rice his name is John. He says, if you slip, you will fall down. Makes sense. The mud along the trail is red like the colour of rust, and very slippery. The kids have stopped complaining and despite themselves are enjoying the trip. Along the way, through the bush we see a woman at the river washing clothes. As we are almost entering the village there are two young women huddled under an umbrella shucking corn. Its corn season now. I also notice as we walk that there is alot of bush cleared along the path. Samuel tells me that they are trying to clear a path so that cars can come out to the village. The one obstacle is the river, they will need to build a bridge heavy enough for cars to cross. This would be a major help as the village is only accesible by foot, or bike I suppose. The children reach the village first. We come last. I am trying to take photos on the way. As we enter there is two palm clusters hangin at the entrance. Samuel tells Kathleen that it is medicine, becuase the palm harvest has not been going well this year, and so they hope that this will help.
We walk in and say hello to a group of women shucking corn. We go to where Grandma is....she does a little dance to welcome (even though she is not well) us and hugs Kathleen, we have surprised her with our visit. I get a hug and then shake hands with several other people and get a hug from my neices mother. I recognize her from pictures. We go to Kumbah and Samuels house and sit down for a short visit. I brought a mug and soap from Canada as a small gift for Yakata, and we tell her the bag of rice is for her. She jumps up, saying thankyou thankyou...she is so happy about the rice. Our visit is very short, becuase it is still raining, and we don’t want to get stuck in the mud on our way out. We will have to go up the muddy hill this time. The other problem is that before we left Monrovia, James did a little electrical work. Our horn wasn’t working so he fixed it temporarily so you just squeeze two wires together to honk the horn. The only problem, somewhere along the line the lights stopped working, and so we can’t get stuck out after dark and have four hours of driving ahead of us. We apologize for the shortness of the visit, and start walking out. I take a few more photos of family members and the huts. As we are leaving, they give us fresh corn to take home for roasting. I was so glad we got to go, despite the briefness of it, and the rain, it was all worth it. I hope I get to return later on this year for a longer stay.

Interviews

2006-07-30T06:47:00.000-07:00

So, part of our trip up, was to do some work. We brought five packages with us to give to some people in need. Kathleen and James know a pastor up there and asked him to refer five people in the community that could use some extra help. Friday morning Kathleen and I left the kids at the compound, and went out to do our interviews. We went to the church and met the people, then sat down at a table and the people came in one by one to talk to us. I felt privilaged that the people shared their stories with us. I think this is the first time that I thought I might cry during an interview, hearing about the war and how it affected them, and how they escaped with their lives. It is not the first time I have heard stories like this, but for whatever reason, it hit me a lot harder. The one man, ABC they call him (Augustus B. Collie) doesn’t have the use of his legs due to polio. His chair couldn’t come up into the church, and so he crawled up the aisle to talk to us. To him it isn’t a big deal, but to watch, it is difficult. He was cheerful and hopeful about the future, and wanting to learn more about computers, to perhaps have his own computer so he can work typing documents for people to make a living. He says, people tell him “your disabled, why don’t you just sit down” but he says “no, my mind is still good, I can still learn”. It was very encouraging to hear. During the war in 1994 soldiers came into town. Everyone ran, he was left alone in the house, not knowing where anyone had gone, so he too had to escape, crawling into the bush. His friends found him, and put him in a wheelbarrow, and helped by pushing him around. They couldn’t light fires to cook, becuase if the soldiers saw smoke, they would come find them and kill them. He said they had nothing, they had to sleep on the ground, they had no blankets or sheets. One woman they met, her husband had been killed, and so she asked him to take one of her small daughters, and so he talked with his wife, and they took this extra girl to be their daughter. At one point back in town, they were going to kill him, because he was disabled, but one man convinced the soldiers not too, and then later he heard that they had killed another man who was in a wheelchair.
Another man that we interviewed when we asked how many children he had, he said five, but only three are living. Again during the war, they had to run to the bush for safety from the soldiers. Two of his children died of starvation in the bush. He is looking after three of his brothers children as well though, as his brother was killed in the war.
When we returned home Ruth was here, and I told her about my trip, and she told me how when she was little she lived with her grandma, during the war, and they lived in a village. At night they would have to go and sleep in the bush on the ground, and the two of them would sleep on her grandmas lapa (like a wrap around skirt). She was two when the war started and she lived with her Grandma till she was five, when her grandma got sick and died. Then she went and lived with her parents.
These stories are not isolated. Everyone in this country has suffered during the war. It is heartbreaking to hear the stories. It is still not easy for people as they struggle to find jobs and have enough to feed their families.

Passport to Gbarnga

2006-07-29T14:12:00.000-07:00

July 29, 2006

Just returned from the big trip out of the city. I am so glad I got to go. Now I am back in the city, with the noisy goats in the yard (okay, maybe you don’t think goat when you think city..rural city) and all the people, and taxis. Anyhow. Kathleen, the four children and myself all drove up to the capital of Bong County, Gbarnga about a four hour drive from here. It is a small city, more like a town really. The trip had one slight stress. We are going down the highway when Kathleen mentioned something about getting hasseled by immigration at the Iron Gate. Hmmmm, immigration in the middle of the country I am thinking, I thought you only ran into them entering and leaving a country. Anyhoo. I innocently say, “should I have brought my passport?” Kathleen, “you didn’t bring your passport??” Yeah, no I did not. Kathleen says, well hopefully it will be alright, and then proceeds to tell me how one time, when she had her resident permit, they stopped her for several hours and confiscated her papers. Hmm. Not feeling very confidant at this time. My heart begins beating faster and I get that dreaded feeling in the pit of my stomach. I spend the next hour or so praying to God that the immigration will have softened hearts and let us through. See, the main reason for my oversight is I had been through the Iron Gate (which is actually cement as the children pointed out) two years ago when we were running a feeding program, multiple times, but there was no one manning the gate. Apparently Kathleen tells me I should always be carrying my passport with me. News to me. Anyhow. We arrive and drive up. We see friends in a Samaritans Purse vehical coming the other direction, they drop the rope and they just drive on through. Kathleen goes for it, they stop her. They pull us over to the side, the man talks to her, and asks for ID, Kathleen gives her ID. He asks for mine and she explains how I forgot etc etc. He gives us a hard time, (apparently I commited an immigration offense) but lets us go after a few minutes and after Kathleen has given him her phone number. We drive away and I thank God for answering my prayers. Yay. We are on our way. We arrivei n the city and the first thing you notice is all the motorbikes. Instead of town being jammed full of taxis, it seems up here people ride motorbikes. We drive up to the Catholic Compound where we are spending the night at their guest house. It is a very nice place, with a large dinning hall and chapel and dormatories. We have two rooms with a double bed each and bathroom. I am very happy with the accomadatoins. The buildings are built with dirt bricks that are compressed with cement and make a very pretty sand coloured brick. It is peaceful here. We are all sitting out in a Palava Hut waiting for our room keys when Kathleens phone rings. Unknown number. She answers. It is the immigration man. Just making sure we arrived safely. How sweet. I hear Kathleen say “oh but why do you want to talk to her?” and then “thats not what she’s here for my friend” and click. She hung up on him. I ask her, what did he want to talk to me for?? Apparently he wanted to be my friend. Nothing like having an older sister around to fend off unwanted immigration suitors. I was pretty happy I didn’t have to talk to him. Then I think, oh I hope we don’t see him on our way back through...
Not the first immigration officer that has tried to use his position to try and be my “friend” hmm. Well anyhow. It gives me something to giggle about to myself. I will write more about this trip, but for now that is all. Have a great day.

INDEPENDANCE

2006-07-29T14:09:00.000-07:00

July 26, 2006

Just heading to bed. Thinking about history. Never took it past grade 10, I took all those science and math courses...ugh. The odd thing is, when I think back, my favorite part of any assigment was always the title page...Well back to the History thing. Wednesday here is Independance Day. We like to laugh, becuase Liberia never really gained independance from some domineering country like the US did. The country was settled by freed slaves, or men and women en route to becoming slaves that were freed and dropped off on the shore. I am not sure of all the details, I will have to ask my local historian friend. When I think of the word independant, I think, strong willed, wealthy or self-sufficient, able to make good choices, not afraid of putting your neck out there. We all have pictures of say, and independant woman, or an independant child, or and independ Aunt (teehee). I never wanted to be an independant woman, it sounds like so much work, but when I was little always wanted to be independantly wealthy.
Liberia I think needs to have a new Independance Day. Right now, she is not independant. When we drive about 5 minutes down the road, you come to the first UN checkpoint. Just beyond that, is a stadium where I believe some UN battalions live. I don’t even know how many in a battalion. I’ll find out tomorrow. On certain days if you pass at the right time you can see them marching in their ceremonial gear, with swords none the less. If you go to the beach on a weekend, again you will see the UN, but this time, they are in speedos and looking for a good time. We avoid the beach on the weekend. Driving down the highway, probably 40 percent of the vehicals are taxis, the major form of transportation, 25 percent fo the vehicals are UN, 20 percent are NGO’s (non-government organization, for example, World Vision, or Save the Children or Oxfam, or MSF, or Living Waters, or Samaritans Purse, or the list goes on and on) and other mission organizations, and the remaining 15 percent, private vehicals and government vehicals. I have never done an exact count, and it is possible that these counts are way off. But the point is, there is a lot of UN and a lot of NGO’s. These people are here to a. keep the peace (I believe there is around 70000 UN here) b. for development and relief. In a few years they will all be gone, but for now they are here helping out. The country needs help, help to get power in the country again, help to get running water in the country, help to rebuild schools and Universities....the list goes on. My point is, on July 26 this year Liberians celebrated 159 years of independance, and part of this celebration was turning the power on at the JFK hospital...the main hospital in town with plans to broaden this to the whole city, everyone was so excited and happy, but won’t it be an even greater celebration when Liberia can live without the need of soldiers to keep the peace, and the government will be stable and can invest in the education and health of the people, and does not need outside countries and agencies to run these program. The journey has started, I am praying that it continues, and that Liberia will become a strong, vibrant, self-sufficient country, just like an independant woman. Well, again, just my thoughts and opinions, I’m no expert, just an observer.

Words words words

2006-07-21T13:24:00.000-07:00

July 20, 2006

I would like to start out by saying, I am no expert on Liberia, or its people and customs, I am merely an observer of what I see, and what I experience. After living here for maybe 15 or 20 years, I could then perhaps say I felt like a bit of an expert.
Every day that I am out and about and talking to people I learn something new, or I am made aware of how little I really understand. I am working on my Liberian English, but fail to be understood everytime I speak to someone. My conversations are peppered with what? and blank stares, and of course I have my own difficulty understanding what the person is saying. Someone will be telling a really good story, or I assume it is good, becuase everone else is smiling or laughing or listening intently, but I only understand perhaps 50% of what is said. Its like when you don’t get a joke, and by the time they have explained it to you, it sort of looses its “life”. Just yesterday while interviewing one lady, I asked her I think, how she can make her living. She stares at me, then looks at Henry the counsellor with me as if to say, come on, tell me what this white woman is saying. He repeats the question, and to me, it sounds the same...okay, perhaps his accent is slightly different, but not that different. I think I can say something so people will understand.....but fail miserably more often than not. I think my first time in the country, I spent the first month very frustrated with the communication troubles. Now, I just have to keep trying, and if all else fails smile or laugh at the situation. Even people that I see and talk with every day, like Martha our housekeeper, or Oneisemus who lives here, there is still misunderstanding, on a daily basis.
Some popular words here:
fine....fine girl, fine boy, etc. though, once was I called enchanting by a man from Ivory Coast, besides this, not much variation
small, as in small small (aka very small), or small thing (which is like a small amount of money, like a tip or something you would give to someone)
sausage....sausage sausage sausage This is what people will say as they are walking with a bucket down the road full of hotdogs to sell. They call hotdogs sausage, but when you hear it, it sounds to me like sasay sasay sasay
Alright. When you ask how someone is, usually they say ‘alright’ (not fine, becuase that would mean they were good looking) or sometimes, they are “trying” which means they are well, trying.
A favorite saying “before good food waste let belly bust” but with an accent. “befo goo foo ways let belly bus”
When monkey jammed eat pepper....whe monkey jam ea peppa. Okay, meaning, when you have no money to buy food, eat peppers...new for me today. (when you see a monkey eating pepper, that means he is really desperate)
Baboon will divide kola...when you have a fight, the baboon will be the judge. Hmmm, I like it.
Well I think that is all it for now. I’ll update you when I learn more.
BEC for Now.

Pharmaceuticals Wanted

2006-07-18T14:21:00.000-07:00

Well just a quick one. Firstly I would like to say hi to every one at the pharmacy....I miss the good times, the coffee, the chocolates and other treats. Its all like a dream to me now:) Has anyone taken any fantabulous holidays this summer???

So, my sister, she has a problem. It started a few weeks ago with a small bump on her finger. It has gotten bigger and bigger and now it is this huge growth that has taken over the side of her finger. She saw a friend who is a doctor, he doesn't know what it is, it is not like anything I have seen...very strange. So the doctor has prescribed cloxicillan, I am not sure what it will do, because it doesn't look to be an infection, more of a growth.
Then a couple days ago, she got a few bumps on her hands, now they are many, I with my vast knowledge as a pharmacy technician have decided it is scabies. Problem, we have nothing to treat it. So tomorrow, my mission, to see if they carry lindane or permethrin in the country. I am sure they must, why wouldn't they??? Here's hoping. I mean, last time I was here, I went to the stationary store to buy a few things. The stationary store had no legal sized paper....crazy. Oh, and the store we shop at, they never have brown sugar. The silly thing is that they grow sugar cane here, (we grow it in our yard...I wish I new how to extract the sugar) but they import brown sugar from the US. So, if they have no lindane lotion or Kwellada, I will admitt, it won't be a huge surprise. Anyone know any home made treatements???
Bye from Buggy in Paynesville.
PS. Bill Clinton was in the country yesterday, he is promoting AIDS awareness....good for Bill. He didn't have as much security as Kofi...

The Week

2006-07-15T10:05:00.000-07:00

July 14, 2006

Heard from my window while working on the computer:

William (5 years old): potty mouth potty mouth Noah is a potty mouth
Noah (7 years old): do you even know what a potty mouth is?
William: no
Noah: its someone with a big mouth, like a pot is big

William: do you like coke?
Max: yes
William: coke head coke head.....

I have to laugh....now there is innocence for you...a potty mouth is someone with a large mouth and a coke head is someone who likes coke. How refreshing.

Alot has happened since Monday. It has been a full week. Tuesday, okay, I’ll admit, I don’t remember what happened on Tuesday, I think I did office work on the computer, and looked after the kids. Wednesday, had prayer meeting in the morning, which ended extending until 1pm. We do quite a bit of talking and discussion, and this week we started studying the book of Joshua in the Old Testament. Kathleen was supposed to prepare the lesson, but was busy, so I was the pinch hitter. Good book Joshua. Main message...be strong and couragous for the Lord your God is with you. So good I decided to use the stories in Joshua for my kids club. Nothing like double dipping. We also talked about good leadership, which is always on our minds, with the new government in place, and everyone hoping that things will move forward for the country. Honesty and integrity are crucial for change to happen. In the past there has been a lot of dishonest behaviour within the government ( I know, which government doesn’t suffer from this problem) and it is difficult to change behaviours and attitudes that have been so prevelent in the past. We are praying for change. Wednesday afternoon I took the children to the beach to swim with their friends, and I had a nice chat with Debbie, a woman who’s husband Rick is a doctor here. They have been here I believe since 1997. Rick’s mom recently died of Alzheimers, and they returned from the states just a couple weeks ago. It is nice to have understanding with other people who have dealt with the disease in a loved one.
The waves were strong and so the smaller kids played in the lagoon, while the older boys were out in the waves. I went in for a short dip....they have portuguese man-o-wars here, and I am always feeling things brushing up too me...overactive imagination:) Today I was still finding sand in my hair...I just can’t figure how it got there!
Thursday, Kathleen and I went to Group of 77 to interview families. Several of my people weren’t there though, so will do their interviews on Tuesday. I was standing in the hallway waiting to take a photo of a family. Try to imagine. Cement hallway, ground level. Its dark, except for the light coming through the breeze blocks (cement blocks with holes in them). There are people in wheelchairs scattered down the hall. Several doors are open to the small 10 by 10 rooms, also dark as there is no electricity. In one room there are two women with polio lying there by the door with their babies, watching the people go by. There is about 5 small children ages 3 to 5 marching around the hall. The building is rectangular, with the halls all joined. These kids must of passed me 4 or 5 times, around and around. One boy didn’t look well and appeared feverish as he had beads of sweat on his face and his eyes seemed a bit puffy and glassy. I wonder if he has malaria or something. While I am waiting, a blind man comes around the corner, being led by Boima, a boy of about 10 who can barely walk himself due to muscle jerks and his feet not going in the right directions. Coming behind the man is Patience, a young girl of the same age who has some similar problems as Boima. They both have big smiles on their faces. I say hello as they go by. The two children seem to be inseperable. Halfway down the hall is a laundry line, with someones clothes drying. There are also two coal pots burning, with pots on them...lunch. A boy of 14 or so comes in with a large bag. He dumps out two roosters....alive. There feet are tied together so they can’t escape. I wonder to myself...is there a reason he is letting them out inside the building? He re-ties their feet and carries them away. Every time I am there I remember, there is an infestation of bed bugs, and then I start feeling itchy. I am not surprised, what with the live poultry around the sleeping quarters. The family finally gathers, an elderly women in a wheelchair with two daughters and their babies with no apparent fathers, and a son who looks about 30, and not mentally stable. I wonder, what is there to be done that would really help them? It seems like an impossible challenge.
Today. My first kids club up the road. I was thinking we may have up to 90 children, but we had about 35 to 40 ( I admit I didn’t count) The lower numbers are a bit more managable for me. We sang some songs, and I told a bible story, then I had some volunteers help to act it out, then we played a game outside. I think it went well, but it is always a challenge to really connect with the communication being a bit tricky. I ask them, do you understand me? They all stare at me...I think it will get better as they get to know me. Out of all the kids, I think only two or three of them can read, so activities I choose are somewhat limited.

Statistic in the newspaper today, 1 doctor per 88, 000 people. there are only 34 doctors in the country. Wow...

Tired

2006-07-12T06:59:00.000-07:00

July 10, 2006

I am so tired. I wish it was bedtime, but it is only 6:30. This morning we had a rain storm. I finally decided it was time to get out of bed at 7:15 when the hugest crack of lightening, and thunder roll happened right over head. It shook the house. Not much sleeping after that. We left the house just before 8, and were on our way, up to Kakata again. This time we went farther up the highway, and through a rubber plantation to the village of Baypolu, a village of about 3000. Like Chemainus, but everyone living in mud huts, just try and imagine that. On the way up, we met some stupid chickens, who didn’t run off the road like they’re supposed to. I heard a squawk. I didn’t look back, but like to think the squawk was that of fear, and thank goodness that truck didn’t hit me, instead of the alternative. We did five interviews this time, but I think there was a bit of nepotism (sp?) going on, the people were selected by the town chief, and should have been people with the greatest need, but the people on the list were his daughter, his clerk, himself and one other woman with the same last name, and another woman, I am not sure how she fit into the picture. Anyhow, it was disappointing, as these people didn’t seem to have as great of need as perhaps some others in the community. While doing one interview, a fight broke out between some lady passing by, and the chief and his daughter. Unfortunately for me, I don’t speak Kpelle or Kissi. Anyhow, we have to decided now, what we are going to do. There is need everywhere, and I am sure the people we interviewed have needs, but in comparison to others, they are doing okay. It is a tough call. On the way home just as we were leaving it started to downpour. To leave the village we had to do some off roading as the road was too muddy, and so we were driving in between the rubber trees. We were spinning out in one spot, but yay, the 4 wheel was working, and we got through with no problem. We only stalled once when we drove through a really big puddle and got water on the engine. Once it dried out, we were good to go again. At one point a small pig ran on the road in front of us. I was cheering it on, “run to the side, run to the side”, but it kept running down the centre of the road, then another little pig joined it. Finally they veared off to the right so we could pass them. They were obviously too young to have learned about traffic safety yet.
Some thoughts as we drove home:
-if they put some randomly placed potholes on the highways in Canada, it would really decrease the speed problem
-I bet my friends would be jealous that I am 4 wheeling in Africa
-I think my oxygen intake is about 50% less driving with Kathleen, I keep having to remind myself to breathe.
-according to many Liberians the way to get through a tight situation, or very muddy road is to “take your own time” apparently taking your own time can overcome almost any obstacle. So far so good.
Well that is about all for now.
PS. On arriving home, as I was taking off my shoes I had an unfortunate discovery. Now, remember, this is the 2nd day in a whole month that I have worn shoes, I usually wear flip flops. Lo and behold between my third and fourth toe on the left foot, a crack. Ack, athletes foot. Up until this point in my life, I have remain fungal free. Let me tell you, I am not pleased. I have started treatment, I will keep you updated. Suddenly my feet feel hot and itchy.

Pancakes and Samosas

2006-07-12T06:56:00.000-07:00

July 8, 2006

It has been a full day of food and fun. This morning we went out for breakfast, to the Samaritan Purse house down the road for pancake breakfast. One girl there is from Calgary, so in memory of the Stampede, we had our own little party here in Liberia. We ate, visited and even did some line dancing, it is hard to stomp though in flip flops, not quite the same. It was fun though. After that I came home, then drove to town to run errands and pick up Joy from a sleepover. I drove the jeep today, you can see the potholes alot better from higher up, but with the larger vehicle it is harder to swerve to miss them. I also found weaving in and out of traffic more difficult.
Tonight was a “big” night out on the town. Friends of my sister have been here two years as missionaries. Their daughter (also Rebecca) and her boyfriend came for a month, before her parents head back to the States. Anyhow, Rebecca plays the piano and sings very beautifully, and my sister helped to arrange for her to sing at a hotel here, the Mambo Point Hotel. They probably have one of the only pianos in the country. Anyhow...because I play guitar and sing, they thought it would be fun if I played as well, so we both did a set. It was in the hotel bar area of the resturaunt. I was really not looking forward to it, as I felt my music perhaps was not up to Hotel standards, or what you would play in hotel, but what they hey, you only live once. I did four songs, 2 fast, 2 slow and sweated profusly, and was very nervous and made many many mistakes, but from what they tell me, no one could tell. I was very happy about that. It was fun, and now, I have played in a hotel in Liberia, something new to brag about :) And the proprieters wife who is from Ireland (but has been in the country 19 years) came over and visited with us and thanked us, and we all had free drinks and samosas (which were very yummy by the way). It is the first time I have had any sort of payment for my music, so that was exciting. All I need now is a sign that says “will play for samosas and cold beverages”. These are the things memories are made of. As I left, one of the employees said “I like your music, you have a nice voice” I say, “oh, thank-you”, him, “sleep well”, me, “I always do”. It is nice to be appreciated. Makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. I told James I could start busking here. I could make five five dollars here and there. At the least, it would be something new....I could start a new craze here. As long as I have been here, I have never seen anyone busking, I think they should start. It will be like the Victoria of West Africa.

Birthdays & Friday.

2006-07-08T05:23:00.001-07:00

July 5, 2006

My last entry as a young 27....
Apparently, according to my atlas, I am 11, 109 km away from home. That’s pretty far.
Today, lets see, what did I do?? Got up, had breakfast, drank my coffee, had my bath, studied Anatomy/Physiology, had prayer meeting, visited with friends, had lunch, watched the kids, played games with William ( I taught him Yatzee, he is only 5, but caught on pretty well, I won:) Then we played Dynamic Memory and he whopped me.:(I had seven, he got 24. Just goes to show that young minds are that much quicker. I just figure I have a lot more junk cluttering mine up and so really he has the advantage.) The other kids went out to the beach to play with friends so it was just me and William. We shared some of my special chocolate from Canada. Shh, don’t tell the others or they’ll want some. I bottle fed the deer, shot some hoops with the boys, and now I am having a little quiet time. Tomorrow I turn 28. I am no longer “mid-twenties” I have reached the “late-twenties”. I can’t believe I have gotten to this point already. Man time flys. I considered making my own cake, but I thought I would wait until tomorrow in case someone else wants to, I would hate to steal that pleasure from them. I think it will be a quiet day. We have work to do in the morning, interviewing people down town, then I am hopefully going to a screening of a documentary made about Liberia at some friends place in town, then perhaps after getting home, we will have a bit of a birthday dinner. Thursday night we have spaghetti, it is our western food of the week. To be honest I prefer the rice and soup (what we would call sauce). Today we had water greens ( just what you would imagine, green leaves that grow in the swamp) and smoked fish on rice. It was yummy, thouigh perhaps a little heavy on the red oil. Well I think that is all for now. Until next time. Bec.
PS. Kofi Annan was here for two days, I didn’t get to see him but he did drive by our house in a convey twice. We had a tank parked out front gate for the day just to be be on the safe side. We live on the way to the airport, so pretty much everyone drives by our front gate.

July 8, 2006

Friday Night. Enjoying the entire expanse of my bed. Joy is off at a sleepover, so that means I can sleep in peace without the worry of being kicked or jabbed in my sleep. Today was a good day. Kathleen, Onesimus and I drove up to Kakata, which is just over an hour away. Once there we went to an NGO office, ZOA (its Dutch and stands for South East Asia something or other, but now they are in Africa). We got some recommendations from them for families to help with resettlement. We took one of their employees, Lucy with us and drove an hour on a dirt road into the bush to Nhayn Community. Just after leaving the highway, we drove through several large puddles and got the engine wet and stalled the engine. I had visions of being in the woods for hours waiting for help. Thankfully (after some heartfelt prayer on my part) and after drying out for a few minutes the truck started again. Later we came to a very muddy area. I told Kathleen, I don’t think we can make it, Oneisemus got out and checked it out, then Kathleen got out and assessed the depth of the grooves through the mud, and apparently she thought we could make it, and we did...I was amazed. I am glad I was not driving. We drove through about 3 smaller villages. In one village there was an older man with one leg in a wheelchair on the road facing down hill, appearing stuck ( remember this is a bumpy, dirt road ) we got Onesimus to get out and help him to the side of the road. I guess the man thought great, some young strong man to push me, and so he got Onesimus to push him back up the hill. There were all these other young men, sitting on the side, just watching. I wonder how this man normally get around, if anyone there helps him. Everywhere we passed, they see that there are two white women, and all the children wave and call out hello, or “white woman, white woman”. The roads are so bad, and we were driving so slow, that you have time to say hello to the people that you are driving by. Some of the mud houses have designs that people have painted on them, or sayings they have printed on. I asked a man up there, if you have a good roof, how long with a mud house last, “long time” he says. Some of them were built before the war (which began 1990) That is pretty impressive considering the torrential rain, that can occur over a four month period every year. Good roofing is the key. We arrived at the village, it is fairly large, with a school and a clinic. In 1994 during the war, soldiers came through and everyone fled to the bush, and they burned the place down, destroying most peoples homes. From what they told us, the old people that couldn’t run away, they herded into a building, locked the door and burned the building down with them in it. These are autrocities that are hard for me to fathom. Some people that escaped to the bush also died, from sickness, or becuase they just weren’t strong enough. We were to interview 5 families, but only 2 of the women to interview were there. The other three had gone to town. A woman in the next village had just died in childbirth and so they went to town to make funeral arrangements and to mourn. From what I gather, the baby was over due and perhaps even was a still born, and then the woman died after the baby was born. They carried her to a clinic, but either they couldn’t do anything for her, or it was just too late. The realities here are harsh and unforgiving.
Our interviews went well and when we were done, we turned around and headed for home. Thankfully some of the puddles had shrunk with the sun. As we went, we past several swim holes where the boys were all having their baths. We bought some monkey apples (like leechie nut) and two bags of coal, for half the price it would be in town. We passed lots of rubber trees, all planted row after row. I was sad to come back to the city with its noise and garbage heaps everywhere and all the crush of people. I think I just am a small town girl at heart. On our drive out to Nhayn Community it was reminiscent of the drive out to Zeballos or Tahsis on the West Coast. just less mountains and more puddles. Makes it feel just a little bit more like home.

Birthdays & Friday.

2006-07-08T05:23:00.000-07:00

Kids

2006-07-03T06:14:00.000-07:00

June 30, 2006

We are still cataloguing books. It seems to be an never ending task, I think I am almost through, then another stack shows up. And this is just the books in the house. There are more in the container that we are waiting to put up more shelves so we can sort properly.
Anyhow. This morning James took me up the road to Pastor Samuels house. This is a man who Kathleen and James have worked with for several years. He has a church that they hold in a shelter just off their house. Anyhow, James was encouraging the pastors to not just think about Sunday morning, but to do something for their communities in the week. So Pastor Samuel decided to start a school. A free school (schools here you have to pay to attend, and many people can’t afford the fees). There is over 100 children from ages 3 to 14. We went up there, and I carried with me two footballs (soccer) that were donated by a man Karl Reuthers to give away. I almost didn’t want to take the balls out of the truck as I was afraid of starting a small riot. When the children saw the balls, they all started smiling and talking excitedly, all the chldren wanted to shake my hand, I could tell they could not wait to start playing with them. Football here is huge, as well as kickball. They were all very appreciative. Half the kids went off to play with the ball, the others stayed around me, I guess to have a look. I took some of their pictures. Then I suddenly had a following of children all wanting to be in a photo. I talked to Pastor Samuel and will be planning to go up there once a week and holding a childrens club. It is summer now, so there is no school. I will take a guitar and sing songs with them, tell bible stories, play games and hopefully share the love of Jesus with them. Some children here are not well cared for and some have to grow up very young and expected to work hard at home doing chores, or selling in the markets. This is an opportunity to be an example of love and care and to hopefully let them know that they are precious and worth so much in God’s eyes. In the bible Jesus said, “let the little children come to me, for such is the kingdom of heaven” God values children, and so should we. I know it will be overwhelming trying to work with so many children, with such a broad age range, but I am hoping that I can recruit some people to help me that are like minded in seeing the value of investing in children in this way. Fyffester, I am wishing you were here right now:)

Maggots and Dukors

2006-07-03T06:12:00.000-07:00

June 28, 2006

I will say this, the days are never the same here.Today I spent the majority of my time inside cataloguing books. I know, sounds riveting. Anyhow. I was in working when Joy my neice ran in saying, come see what Solomon gave me. I got up and followed Joy out to the front, where in the flower planter stood a tiny, cat sized deer. It is a called a Dukor and the poor little thing weighs probably no more than 5 pounds. This man Solomon is a student of Kathleen's, and he goes to the interior and gets wood to sell. I guess he was in the woods and found this baby deer. I just hope there isn’t a mama deer missing it. When it is full grown, it will probably be about 2 or 3 feet high I imagine. The irony (well I think it is) is that Martha bought deer meat today at the market. Kathleen couldn’t figure out why there was a sudden ant infestation of the freezer. Martha bought maggoty meat. A ribcage and front hoof of deer, which is small enough to fit in a grocery bag. It was dried, but obviously she didn’t look to close when buying it, cause it was a bit rotten. Kathleen I think almost was sick. I cleaned the ants and maggots out of the freezer with some bleach and vim, but I wasn’t about to touch the bag of maggoty meat. Thankfully Kathleen has been here long enough to know that you burn them off. So she lit the coat pot (a bit like a habachi grill really) and then put the meat on it to fry the little maggots. They make a delightful popping sound as they burn up. Onesimus came to the rescue and helped get all the maggots, as some were inside the ribs etc. Is that enough to make anyone a vegetarian?

The Cold Shower (aka bucket bath)

2006-07-03T06:06:00.000-07:00

June 27, 2006

Now I wanted to write about this, as it is a part of my every day. It is something I love, and something I dread. I think God invented it just for me, as He knew I would need a little something extra to get going in the morning. Now when I say shower I am sure you imagine cascades of water pouring down. This is not the right picture. I will explain. Here, we have a well. All the water for the house has to be pulled up by hand, in a bucket, just like little Jack and Jill (you know the ones that went up the hill). Yeah, so we have a water tank on top of the roof, but our pump is not strong enough to pull water from the well, so it is all done by hand. Onesimus, James and Kathleen's 18 year old foster son who lives here does the water once a week. It takes him quite a while to fill the barrels, which then we (and by we, I mean, him...not me, I have watched though) pump from the barrels on the ground to the tank on the roof. I think he said it takes 2 hours. So, you can imagine that we do not like to waste the water coming out of the tap. I like to try and fill one barrel myself each day (an equivalent of 11 bucketsful). We keep one in our bathroom, and several in the kitchen for washing and filling our water filter. I know you think I am a saint for filling my one barrel a day, but really I am quite self centred if I am honest. I figure if I pull one barrel of water a day, it will keep my arms toned. Anyhow, that is beside the point.
Lets get back to my shower. The kids all shower at night time, so they are fresh and can go to sleep. I shower in the morning. This is for the obvious reason, that I am not a morning person. When I am waking up, I am not thinking, yay, a new day, I am thinking, why oh why is it morning time already. I usually wait until after breakfast to shower, to let my body fully wake up. Sometimes, I dread the shower. I think, do I really need one, it is so cold. But I know, I need to. Then I go to the tub, fill up my water pitcher from the barrel, and then proceed to splash water all over myself. It is a slow process. I don’t just dump water on my head, I need to climatize, so I start with my forearms, then my arms, then my feet and calves and slowly I splash my way up my body, until I am wet all over, then I proceed to pour water over my head with a cup. After sudsing up, I rinse with what is left in the pitcher, then I do my final rinse cycle. This is with actual running water. The pressure is low though, and so to actually get under the stream of water, I plaster myself against the end of the tub and sorta splash around. I think James and Kathleen's shower is a little more functional than ours. Oh well, the running water is a new thing.
Its amazing this thing I dread...I can be grumpy and feeling slightly ill, like I have caught some mysterious african disease, and by the end of my shower I am as happy as a clam. The world is new again, and I am glad to be in it.
PS. I challenge you. Next time you shower, grab a bucket instead, and use only cold water. Try it, you’ll be amazed at how alive you feel at the end. Let me know how it works out for you.

Puddles

2006-06-26T09:33:00.000-07:00

Yesterday was Sunday, we spent the morning eating breakfast, then having church at home. I led some songs ont he guitar, and we read from the bible and prayed. Later in the day Kathleen and I decided to walk up to the Catholic church, which is up the road from the house, on top of a hill. They get a great breeze there, and you can look over the neighborhood.
The roads here are dirt, except for the main highway, and some main roads downtown. Other than that, dirt, or in some cases, mud. The mud/dirt here is red. And slimy. I was wearing my red shorts and black tanktop. Perhaps not the greatest outfit to be walking around in on a Sunday afternoon, where every one else is dressed up nicely for church (I know, I am a slovenly Canadian) Anyhow, that is sort of beside the point. As we walked down, we decided to bypass the VP's house, as we didn't want to walk past all the security who would recognize Kathleen, and me in my red shorts and all. The road we took, happened to have a very large puddle, one that took up the entire road. I am wearing my handy dandy flip flops. We ask a lady standing nearby, she says, "walk on the wall", so we climb up on the fence and balance our way across to the other side. (I was glad for my outfit by this point and quite happy I was not wearing a dress) Where in your neighborhood would you have to walk on a fence to walk down the road. Then we decided to take a trail back to the main road. We had to ask for directions twice. A girl graciously showed us the way back to the road. Things here are always changing, new buildings going up, puddles emerging from no where, people here are very flexible, they just find a new path, or a different way around. You got to be inventive sometimes. I admire that. Here sometimes trails lead right through peoples front yards. I always feel a bit guilty walking through peoples yards, but, thats just what you do here.
We eventually made it to the church, where we sat on the stairs and enjoyed the view and the breeze. One of the students (I assume studying to become a priest) came over and chatted with us. It was nice.

Thoughts and Observations

2006-06-23T10:36:00.000-07:00

June 22, 2006

Interesting observations of the day.
Being yelled at as driving by in car “Hey Baby”, not so unsusual, the unusual part, guy yelling it is a 50 some year old police officer. I cannot imagine this happeniing in Canada. How do you respect the law when they are disrespecting you.
Man directing traffic....waving through traffic using his stop signs. seems a little confusing.
Irritation: open man holes on the highway. Just unsafe.

Coconut Plantation
Finally we have made it to our destination. To do interviews at Cocnut Plantation (remember the place with no coconuts or any sort of plantation) Today was our second day of interviewing, Tuesday we did 3 interviews which took maybe 2 hours. Today we did four
which from 9:30 to noon. By the end I was exhausted. It doesn’t seem like much, and it probably doesn’t help that I was sick yesterday. We go to the Group of 77 first, on Newport St. and pick up Henry, one of the counsellors, then we drive down the road to the Coconut Plantation. Coming down the road, we see a man being pushed in wheel chair down the road off to hustle for the day (beg) He is a man we are to be interviewing. Henry gets out and stops him, asks him if he remembers that we were coming to talk to him today. I guess he figured we took to long in coming and so was going to take off. We drive up and park the car next to some “houses” put together shacks with whatever there is available, there is garbage everywhere, broken glass. Children start to come and see who the white lady’s are in the car. They wave and I say hello. The man parks his wheel charir.We want to go to his house to do the interview. The chair won’t fit, so he gets down from the chair, and using his flip flops on his hands he crawls, leading us to his house. Through the garbage and glass...this is where he lives. Kathleen and Henry both ask if he wants help, His friend says, “he is a strong man”. We walk down a narrow passage, different smells assail my nostrils..food cooking, body odour, the smell of salt from the beach and a plethura of other aromas which I can’t necissarily distinguish, nor do I really want to dwell on. We go to the end, the ocean is just down the bank from the house. We go inside, it is very tight, and once insde very dark as there are no widows, and of course no lights. There is a mattress on the ground, one foamy propped up against a wall, we sit on small wooden bench. The floor is dirt, or perhaps it was cement. The whole room is about 10 feet square. There are four or five of them who sleep there. The mans legs are withered. From what I understood, he believes he was witched as a child, and got sick from some food he ate causing what appears to be polio, but he says is not.
This picture is not an isolated one. It is very common. I try to imagine what it would be like to live in a shack right on the beach with no prospects in my future but to beg from passing strangers. It is not a pleasant contemplation.

Gas and Chickens

2006-06-20T10:31:00.000-07:00

Today has been an interesting day. Monday. The day we all dread,
going back to work. This was my day.
7:55 Kathleen yelling...Rebecca get up its 8 o'clock.
Rebecca moans, gets out of bed, gets dressed for breakfast. You never
know who will be dropping by, even at this hour in the morning, so
showing up for breakfast in my jammys is not an option.
8:05 eating my cream of wheat with a little brown sugar.
8:15 group devotions with Kathleen, James, Morris (the children's
tutor) and Martha ( the housekeeper) ; (should have been at 8 but
apparently we all slept in)
8:30 go back to my room and get dressed in some going out clothes,
spent some time meditating about life and my role here and drink my
coffee
9:00ish leave for down town. Part way down the road realize empty
light is on. Decide to pull off at earliest convenience. Pull off at
small filling station. Pull up. They say, only fuel. I ask, no gas?
No gas, only fuel (I guess they call diesel "fuel" and gas "gas")
stop at next filling station, no gas. Drive for about 15 more
minutes...no gas. They have all run out of gas apparently. How can a
gas station run out of gas....it seems ridiculous to me, but not so
surprising. Finally, about 10 more miles down the road we pull into a
gas station. They have gas but are charging 35 more cents per gallon,
even though the price is supposed to be 3 dollars US. We are on empty
and don't have a lot of choice. Last time I was here, people were
selling gas out of 1 gallon glass jars. One place, their pump was
broken, so the man was siphoning the gas with his mouth. Apparently
selling gas out of jars is illegal, but you still see people doing
it. Somehow, this just doesn't seem safe.
So we are continuing our journey into town. Traffic is moving at a
snails pace and we are stuck in it for about 30 minutes. I find out
later from a man that it was because it was raining so hard earlier
in the morning. I mean, really who wants to drive in the torrential
rain. I swear, gnomes have been digging more potholes into the road.
I think today there was more than on Friday, perhaps not, maybe they
are just procreating. Oh, and of course, then there is a man on the
highway, set up with big cement blocks, blocking off one lane,
filling in holes....he has no proper signage or anything. That is an
accident waiting to happen.
When we reach our turn off, we hear sirens. The vice-president is on
his way to work. All the vehicals stop to let his convoy of about 5
vehicles through. (sirens mean someone important is coming through
and you better get off the road) We continue. When we reach our
destination, I wait out with the car, and Kathleen goes in to see
about us going and doing some interviews with potential candidates
for resettlement. As it turns out, this was not a good day, because
we were unable to go and do our interviews. The VPs wife was coming
for a special thanksgiving service. We turn around and go home. I did
enjoy visiting with the children out at the car though. I ask them
their age and names...there is apparently 200 children that go to
school at this compound, 40 of them are residents, others come from
the neighborhood. The children in residence,some of them have parents
that they live with at the compound, some have been seperated from
their parents during the war. I am looking forward to going back and
hopefully getting to know some of these kids and families. We will
return for 9am tomorrow to start our interviewing. Yay.
We get home at 12:30, just in time for lunch. Potato greens and rice,
with boney (dried fish) and some beef which the kids wouldn't eat
because they said it was gone off. I ate it, hopefully there will be
no ill effects tomorrow. I had a really yummy hot pepper with mine.
mmmm.
This afternoon I did some email. This was interrupted by the
chickens. They had escaped. I planted parsley two days ago, and in
fear of them scratching up my seed, I went out and rounded them up. A
while later, chickens out again. Apparently there is a hole in the
coup. The kids round them up this time. Josh my nephew did a patch
job on the whole. Apparently there is a second hole. I think they are
still out there putting naughty chickens back in their coop. The big
problem are the goats. While you are trying to get chickens back in,
goats manage to escape. They can run faster than the chickens. I
better go out and see if my auntly help is needed. I'll admit, I
don't feel like I have accomplished too much today.
Thanks be to God that tomorrow is a new day.

Week One WeighIn

2006-06-16T05:35:00.000-07:00

June 15, 2006

Wow, so this is my one week anniversiary since arriving. I am adjusted and sleeping in again, just the way I like it. This morning at 7:30 I was laying in bed, still half asleep when I was rudely jolted into full consiousness by my nephew Josh who took it upon himself to wake me. He had a balloon filled with air and was letting it out slowly through a thin hole...creating a very high pitched screech. Yeah, I am not a morning person, I don’t know why....I claim it is genetic (yes, a feeble excuse)
So, I am sure everyone is dying to know what I have been up to. It has been a bit of a different week. Last Saturday night we hosted 15 peope (13 of them engineers) from the US and Canada who were over here working on a Library/school project for a mission headed up by a friend of Kathleen and James (my sister and brother-in-law). They were only here for a week. We made some great fish and seafood chowder (well Kathleen did) Joy and I made chocolate cake and biscuits. Mmm. I had a nice visit with a girl from New York City who is a Engineer Student.
Monday was my first day of official “work”. I met with Kathleen and she gave me my job description. I have a few projects.
1. Interviewing disabled people to assess whether some of them can be resettled, and what their needs are.
2. Develop and teach a conversational english class...to be held twice weekly. I am relying on a lot of help from Kathleen on this one. (yes, this scares me a bit....the teaching, not getting help from my sister...can I do it? )
3. With any free time, work to organize and begin cateloguing books...there will be lots more coming when we recieve the container we are shipping on June 24th
4. Starting up or working along side another person doing a weekly kids bible club. This should be a lot of fun, and definately something I have had a little more experience with. I always worry though, about being able to communicate well with the kids, and of course, if they will like me. I know I am silly!!

So that is my stuff. I will be taking one step at a time. I need lots of prayer and help from God to be able to do this all. I think it will be quite a challenge.

Tuesday I went with Kathleen downtown to where I will be going to interview people. The first place is called the Group of 77. There are two buildings when you drive in the gate. One is for administration and training, the other is where all the people live and they have a little school for the children. There are 130 people living at this facility, all with physical disablilities. I met two children, Boima and Patience...Boima jerks all over, but has never been diagnosed...I think he is perhaps 9. Patience apparently doesn’t speak. I don’t know if anyone knows why. They were very cute. There are adults there as well, missing limbs, or in wheelchairs. The needs in this place are so many, but it was encouraging to see that they have a little room set up as a clinic with a nurse, and one or two people that are counsellors on staff. Words don’t do justice, so I will have to take some photos for next time.
After leaving there we drove down to the very end of the road, practically on the beach. I thought we were going to a place called Coconut Grove and was thinking, are we lost? People all standing around staring at us in our car, very obviously out of place. Yep...this was the Coconut Grove...not so much of a grove really, but more of a shanty town. All these shacks, occupied by disabled people and their family, living on the edge of the beach, with garbage everywhere, everything is sand. Lots of children in rags. We went and visited with one lady who has withered legs...she gets around by walking on her hands and feet. These are the people we need to be helping. Can you imagine being in a wheelchair and trying to wheel home through the sand....not easy.

Wednesday I went with Kathleen to her Literacy classes. She teaches two, one for adults who can’t read, and one for teachers. It was nice to see what it is all about and to meet her students. In the evening we hosted a reception for two diplomats from the Canadian Embassy in Ivory Coast and maybe 8 Liberian leaders from different areas...like a pastor, a business men, several government type people. Yeah, it was a bit different for me, never having met a diplomat before and here they were in our home. I spent most of my time with the children and in the kitchen. I felt a little underdressed for the occasion and did not want to offend anyone. Socially I always feel awkward here, I am afraid I don't know all the rules and will end up saying the wrong thing, or wearing the wrong type of clothes. I guess I really just need to get over myself.

Today I completed a newsletter for Grassroots Ministry (the mission I am with here) and I started working on my Anatomy and Physiology. Yay. Finally. I am such a bad procrastinator. Yep, studying sudoriferous glands and the such. Good times.

Sorry this is so long. I feel like my blog will become more interesting though, I promise, I know I know, I think I have said that before.
It is sort of funny, when I see men here that I knew before, we greet each other, the usual nicities. But when I see women (this has happened several times) they tell me, “your big, you put on weight” I say, yeah I know, I went back to Canada and got fat. I take it as a compliment...really how else would I want to take it. You know, the big booty is popular in this country. I did tell James and Kathleen though, if I go back to Canada weighing more than when I came, I will not be impressed. I feel like all I have done since coming is eat. I’ll keep you updated...I need a measuring tape :) BEC

Arrival

2006-06-12T13:52:00.002-07:00

June 9th, 2006, 3:05pm Liberia

Imagine my surprise. I was on the last leg of my flight, from Senegal
to Monrovia, trying to catch a little shut eye, when I looked up, and
there was the President, Madame Sirleaf-Johnson. She was on my
flight, and took a walk around the plane to say hello to the people.
My impression was that she seemed very caring and genuine. Also on my
flight, half a plane full of Swedish UN soldiers. The one I sat next
too, not so chatty, and didn’t say one word to me. Maybe he was tired
too.
As I walked off the plane the warmth and humidity hit me. It was
raining lightly as I walked into the airport. The airport is smaller
I think than the one in Nanaimo....jammed packed with all the people
from the Boeing 747...all jostling and trying to get their luggage
from the one conveyer belt. Amazingly within about 10 minutes I had
gotten my luggage and gone through customs and baggage check...they
didn’t even open my bags. I got outside...no James or Kathleen. I
wandered down the way, I had met a girl on the flight, and she stuck
with me and got her driver toput my bags in their vehical so as I
would not be hastled by all the people milling around. About 10
minutes later James and all the kids showed up. Driving down the road
many things are familiar. The lush green country side with palm
trees, dirt roads veering off the highway, little gas stations, where
they sell gas out of glass jars, people walking down the highway
waiting for taxi, taxis with odd sayings on them. You can tell that
things here are changing though, lots of construction going on as
people are moving back into the country, even the airport with its
crush of people seemed more organized. I have my passport stamped for
15 days before I have to report to the immigration office, despite
the fact that I have a one-year visa from the embassy in Washington DC.
When I got to the house, Kathleen was here to greet us, she had just
gotten home from teaching her literacy class. The kids painted me a
welcome sign, and then of course I had to meet all the animals, the 4
goats, countless chickens (maybe 20), their new kitten who appears to
be half-starved, their old cat Whiskers and new pet monkey that was a
gift, and two dogs. Let me tell you, I was not too pleased about the
rooster who jolted me out of my sleep this morning at 3:50 am....what
a time to wake up.
Joy and I (my 10 year old neice) share a bed. The kitten slept in our
room and was making weird noises this morning, it sounded like it was
hissing so I lay there in the dark imagining that some creature had
got into the bedroom, like a snake. I tried to find the flashlight
several times without any luck, and then tried using my indiglo watch
to see what the noise was all about. Eventually at about 5, I woke
Joy up to find the flashlight, I think the kitten was just lonely and
needed some TLC. Right now Kathleen is at class teaching again, James
is outside working on a carpentry project, and I am trying to stay
awake so that I can sleep tonight. I still find it hard to believe I
will be here for the next six and a half months, I am curious to see
what the time will bring.

Airports continued

2006-06-12T13:52:00.001-07:00

June 8, 2006, 5:25am London Time
I have made it from the outer purgatory of the airport and into the
passport control, departure gate heaven. It is like walking from
night into day. It smells good, there is nice music playing,
everything is bright and shiney. Yesterday as I waited in the airport
I did not think I could make it, at one point, I considered catching
a plane back home, just to get out of the stinking airport. I was so
tired. I looked into getting a hotel room, but couldn’t with the 55
pound price tag. I phoned a few bed and breakfasts, but they weren’t
much better at 45 pounds a night. So I decided to perservere. I
checked my two big bags for a small price into storage, so I didn’t
have to lug it around and proceded to attempt sleeping on my handbag
and pillow in a chair. I didn’t actually sleep at all. I am not even
sure how many hours I have been awake at this point. At one point I
went to the bathroom and threw up... I think it was the salad on the
airplane. Its at times like these when I wonder, God, what is going
on. I did feel better though after my throwing up, and then ended up
meeting two ladies from the US who I spent most of the evening
talking with, one a young single mothher who had missed her flight
and another who was travelling in eastern europe. I was amazed at the
number of people spending the night in the airport....all sprawled
out on benches and chairs. I think those two ladies were my saving
grace, as they made the 15 hours or so go that much quicker, and it
is always nice to not feel like you are the only one too cheap or
poor to pay for a bed to sleep on.
One thing I wish I had packed in my carry on....deoderant.
Very thankful that I did carry my toothbrush and toothpaste...that
has come in very handy.
Every time I travel I swear to myself I will pack lighter....that has
yet to happen. You will all be happy to know that I didn’t pay for
extra luggage, and if everything goes as planned, I will see it next
in Africa. ( I was 3 kg over....even after putting all the heavy
things in my carry on. Only two more hours and I will be in the air.
Yay.
PS maybe I will go see if they sell deoderant in this end of airport
heaven:)

Airports

2006-06-12T13:52:00.000-07:00

Airports - June 7, 2006 2pm London Time
Well here I am in Gatwick. Approximately 17 hours till my departure
for Brussels and then Liberia. Whose brilliant idea was it to hang
out in the airport for 17 hours? they should be flogged. Yeah, I
haven’t even been here an hour and I am finding it a challenge.
Presently sitting down by the shops and food court. I am sitting on a
somewhat hard bench, there are some softer looking chairs, but I feel
too tired to gut up and push my cart full of luggage anywhere. Maybe
after I have sat here for another hour. Very tempting to spend money
when there is nothing else to do. But wait, I do have one large novel
Les Miserables calling my name, oh and that bothersome Anatomy and
Physiology. Ack. the flight here was fine, it was about 10 hours I
think. I watched one movie, which I have already forgotten, and lay
there with my eyes closed for about four hours, wishing I was asleep.
Breakfast was a ham and cheese croissont ( I have no idea how to
spell that). I was disappointed that there was no fruit cup, I was
really looking forward to a fruit cup. Now I am sitting here wishing
I could sleep. The wireless here is not free. 6 pounds for 1 hour. It
seems a bit much, so I am resisting the wireless. I did have a very
nice little bus ride from Heathrow to Gatwick. Saw a little english
countryside...some sheep, some cows. Rolling hills, I am sure you can
imagine. Nothing to crazy. In some ways it just feels like home,
except maybe that it seems like I am on an episode of coronation
street, except not on a street but in an airport. Ah, my computer
still thinks that it is 6:14 am. I have been awake now for about 24
hours. Only 17 hours I tell myself....
Well, I am sure in a few more hours I will have some more brilliant
observations to make about the british or their airports....
BEC

The Final Days

2006-06-03T22:28:00.000-07:00

I am down to 3 days left on Canadian soil. I had a going a party for myself tonight. Just family. Only 18 of us. It was nice, low key. I made beef tacos, with some help of course (thanks girls). I am not done packing. Yes, I am a procrastinator.
I think goodbyes are overrated....perhaps because I don't like saying it. I would rather say, see you later. I don't know, goodbye just seems so final. And to be honest, I don't actually start to miss people, usually until about two weeks later. That is my magic time frame. Two weeks. Thats when it suddenly hits me, I am in Africa....and I don't know what I am doing here, and I miss my friends....then I cry myself to sleep. I'll let you know how it all turns out.
Well I really do wish I had something more profound to say, the profoundness usually finds its way into my brain at about 1 in the morning, then I am just full of amazing and insightful things to say, but I am just so exhausted by that point I just lay there as the ideas whirl around.
Well i am off to decide how many tank tops I really need, and should I take the white one, or should I leave it at home.....decisions decisions.

Ponderings on Contrast - April 20th, 2006

2006-05-20T00:09:00.000-07:00

As I sit in my room admiring my newly rearranged shelves, my mind drifts to other things. I see a wooden carving on my shelf. It is three figures of different colours holding up a globe of the planet earth. It reminds me of Liberia, where I recieved it as a going away gift from some friends. It is so hard to reconcile my life in Canada to my experiences in Africa.

Every night before going to bed I have this routine. As I try to fall asleep, I think of Africa. Some nights I imagine travelling to the interior and staying in a village. I usually end up with some boa constrictor eating me for dinner. I try not to dwell on these thoughts. Some nights I imagine teaching Literacy to people there. This is something I enjoy a lot more than being snake dinner. I know as I imagine different senarios, it is not necessarily realistic. I usually end up doing a fabulous job and change lives and am the epitomy of goodness and caring. I am a hero in my make believe world.

Sometimes I think to my life here, and the contrast. Right now I am housesitting at the neighbors house, and I am at my parents right now, and I am also looking after a cat in a condo up the road. I have three houses all available to me. Many people don’t have one abode to call home in Liberia. Or the structure they do live in doesn’t even have a proper roof, but a tarp instead. Try to imagine living through a torential rain storm in mud hut with a tarp. And “my” three houses, they are not just shelters, they also come with food. Any kitchen I enter I could manage to put together some sort of meal, at any given moment. The food, it’s just sitting there. I try not to think of those without food, the children especially. When I commute to my job, I remember they travel by taxi. A small car, the size of my Mazda 323 would hold three in the front and four in the back, not including if there are any children. I drive each day in the solitude of my mobile.

I could go on and on. I ask myself, how is it possible to have this contrast in 2006, where we have every imaginable technological and biological and medical advance. To quote the musician Larry Norman “you say we beat the Russians to the moon, but I say we starved our children to do it.” I think as Western Nations, we can be pretty self absorbed, so focused on our own projects or amusements we forget about the others.

As I plan to leave for Liberia in 5 weeks, I know my thoughts will be frequently returning to these topics. I wonder how a girl like me, can make a difference in a world of such contrast.

Time is ticking away

2006-05-13T17:57:00.000-07:00

It is the 13th of May. 17 days and counting till I leave. I still am waiting for my visa and plane tickets to arrive. The suspense.....For the past week I have felt, well, nauseous... I think it is pre-travel nerves. I have finally begun to think about what to pack. Sometimes it is hard to think, now what will I need in the next six months. So I have my toothpaste. I think 2 tubes should do it. And underwear, how many pairs? And, boxers or briefs...its the age old question (just kidding, but you know I have to take the opportunity to talk about underwear when ever I can) And why are they called pairs, when there is only one of them, it must be becuase they have two holes for your feet to go through, hmmmm.....
Sunscreen, obviously
Cheese, not so obvious (by the way, I hope to make goat cheese while I am there, I mean, they have a goat, they can't be that hard to milk :))
Well I won't bore you any more with my packing list. But it is satisfying to make a list and check it twice. I was making one just the other morning, at about 1 am. That is when I am my most brilliant. If you haven't had a chance to talk to me at that hour, well then I really think you are missing a dimension of my personality that you have never seen before.
Well enough about me for now.
I better go be productive or something.
Bec Out :)

Sunday Again

2006-04-30T14:11:00.000-07:00

I can't believe it is already Sunday. The weeks seem to literally fly by. As I contemplate my near departure to Africa, I realize how much stuff I need to get done. Nothing like a little bit of pressure to motivate. As this is my first post, I will keep it brief. As time goes on, I am sure they will become more interesing, and hopefully I will figure all the ins and outs of this blogger world. Right now I am off to pick out some songs for evening worship and then I am off.