I usually wake up at 6:45. 7 if I'm super tired. I make breakfast, which usually consists of a PBJ or oatmeal, cuz they're easy to make.
I have gotten into the habit of making coffee, then keeping it in the fridge. This serves two purposes. One, I don't have to make coffee in the morning, and two, cold is better than hot. We've got enough hot to go around here.
Then I head out to work with Mr. Paul. We meet at 8, get assignments, and head out. This is where the "fly by seat of pants" portion of the show comes, because we really do everything. Everything tends to remain in the categories of construction, plumbing, electrical work, demolition, reconstruction, redemolition, re-reconstruction, and mowing, conveniently.
That snarky bit about re-reconstruction comes from my first job. We had to break a sidewalk open (while people walked around us, apathetic to our swinging sledgehammers) so that we could fix a leaking pipe underneath. PVC piping has no standard of quality here. You can break it by caving it in with your thumbs.
So we smashed up the sidewalk, fixed the pipe, reapplied cement, added a nice little ramp. It was lovely. On Monday the pipe broke again.
So you have to take pride in your work, but not get too bummed out when you are forced to smash it up again.
Then we have an hour for lunch, I make food, it's tasty, we do more work, I come home for dinner, and I play banjo and work on my French.
And for fun I've been experimenting with the various exotic fruits and veggies I have available to me. Plantains, breadfruit, (haven't made that yet but it's next on the list) coconuts, a spiky pear (which is bigger than my head, waiting for it to ripen up) and papayas. All tasty so far.
That's about it for a normal day.
People have asked me questions.
The ants from the picture are from the village I first went to church at. I probably won't be returning, because I got so many boufoutoe bites that it looked like I had the measles. I mean, I usually look good in polka dots, but I made an obvious mistake in bringing only striped/plaid clothing, and that's just tacky.
The education here is really pretty good, although it's not uncommon for a person to not get out of high school until their early twenties. Other things take priority over an expedient education.
Deaf people are around, but I don't think there's a huge ministry for them. I don't think there's an abundance. I don't know if they know sign language, American or otherwise. I actually asked about that. Eye problems seem to be pretty common though.
5'8" seems a common height for a man.
That's all I got, folks.
Monday, January 30, 2012
Tuesday, January 24, 2012
Apparently I'm a giant.
This Sunday I had my first real "village" experience- The Africa that everyone hears about. I went to church with Miss Karen, one of the Doctors here whose name escapes me.
She said it was going to be an hour drive. There was one other passenger, who spoke only French. Away we went.
Then we picked up 5 people.
When we got there, we pulled a clown car style exeunt all. The first thing I noticed when we arrived was a dog licking it's paw. It had no fur on it's paw, and I could see a part of his bone.
The village children quickly shooed him away, and proceeded to marvel at my height. There was not a single door in the village that did not require me to practice the limbo.
When I get back, ya'll are goin' down. Luau style.
We sat in a house for a while and I wished I spoke French. Everyone kinda talked around me, and I caught random small words. I really wish I could have talked to the kids- all I could do was make goofy faces. That seemed sufficient for their tastes.
They had weird decorations. One of them was some sort of dead thing. Except I wasn't really sure what it was.
It was just a pelt. Looked sorta rodent like, and very "not Chuck Testa." It was rotted and sagging off of the mounting piece, which, ironically and with poor juxtaposition, was marvelous. The wood here is really nice. I can't stress enough though, how nasty this animal-carcass-sans-animal was.
I asked the oldest kid what kind of animal it was, with my limited French. He squinted at it, and then hopped up to take a closer look.
He reached his hand out.
I cringed.
He... reached a bit further...
More of the aforementioned cringing.
He settled back. "I don't know" he said.
"Oh. Ok." I said, relaxing.
His curiosity still unsatisfied, he reached up and gave it a good feel.
The flies decided that it was time to leave.
He still didn't know.
Then it was time for church. I got the seat of honor, up in the front. I'm not sure if they gave me that seat because I was new, or because I couldn't see them staring at me if I was faced forward. Not that they were particularly shy about it.
It was a marvelous show, and I'm sure it would have been even better if I had understood a word of it.
When they sang, I couldn't really sing along, one cuz I couldn't understand it, and two, their melodies were significantly more complex than any western song I've heard. I couldn't even hum along. They rocked it.
I stood, and smiled, and clapped along, and felt conspicuously caucasian. And tall. And front-rowey.
After that was done (or something- to be honest I never knew exactly what was going on) I went to Sunday school with all the little guys.
The teacher (Miss Karen) told the story of David and Goliath. I proved to be a convenient teaching tool. When they were told that Goliath was as tall as me and a half, their eyes just about popped out of their heads. They spent the entire rest of the time (which was dedicated to coloring) sneaking glances at me and giggling furiously. I made more silly faces, and a good time was had by all.
Later we (Miss Karen, the pastor, his friend, and myself) went to eat at someone's house (again, never really sure what's going on, so I can't tell you whose house it was.)
The food was frightening to my sensitive western palate. I like to think I'm a pretty good eater, and I ate it all with a smile on my face, but that smile was not birthed of my gusto.
Most of it was just bland. I can do bland. The plantain was interesting. There was some other tuber-root thing, and something like a potato.
Goodness I loved that potato.
The last item on the menu was Gazelle. People tell me that gazelle is just like deer, but this must have been cooked some odd way, because it smelled like death.
People say the word gag all the time, but it's different when it's an involuntary reaction instead of melodrama.
I was also served Pomplamoose, which is a Gabonese-made grapefruit soda.
That soda pretty much allowed me to eat all my food. I don't think I could have gotten it down otherwise, and after having someone be so kind as to feed me, I didn't want to be rude just because I'm bad at eating African food.
The toughest thing right now is the language. I'm getting sick of not being able to talk to people. Every French speaker I talk to says I have very little accent when I speak, but my vocabulary is pretty small. Please pray that I can expand it quickly.
She said it was going to be an hour drive. There was one other passenger, who spoke only French. Away we went.
Then we picked up 5 people.
When we got there, we pulled a clown car style exeunt all. The first thing I noticed when we arrived was a dog licking it's paw. It had no fur on it's paw, and I could see a part of his bone.
The village children quickly shooed him away, and proceeded to marvel at my height. There was not a single door in the village that did not require me to practice the limbo.
When I get back, ya'll are goin' down. Luau style.
We sat in a house for a while and I wished I spoke French. Everyone kinda talked around me, and I caught random small words. I really wish I could have talked to the kids- all I could do was make goofy faces. That seemed sufficient for their tastes.
They had weird decorations. One of them was some sort of dead thing. Except I wasn't really sure what it was.
It was just a pelt. Looked sorta rodent like, and very "not Chuck Testa." It was rotted and sagging off of the mounting piece, which, ironically and with poor juxtaposition, was marvelous. The wood here is really nice. I can't stress enough though, how nasty this animal-carcass-sans-animal was.
I asked the oldest kid what kind of animal it was, with my limited French. He squinted at it, and then hopped up to take a closer look.
He reached his hand out.
I cringed.
He... reached a bit further...
More of the aforementioned cringing.
He settled back. "I don't know" he said.
"Oh. Ok." I said, relaxing.
His curiosity still unsatisfied, he reached up and gave it a good feel.
The flies decided that it was time to leave.
He still didn't know.
Then it was time for church. I got the seat of honor, up in the front. I'm not sure if they gave me that seat because I was new, or because I couldn't see them staring at me if I was faced forward. Not that they were particularly shy about it.
It was a marvelous show, and I'm sure it would have been even better if I had understood a word of it.
When they sang, I couldn't really sing along, one cuz I couldn't understand it, and two, their melodies were significantly more complex than any western song I've heard. I couldn't even hum along. They rocked it.
I stood, and smiled, and clapped along, and felt conspicuously caucasian. And tall. And front-rowey.
After that was done (or something- to be honest I never knew exactly what was going on) I went to Sunday school with all the little guys.
The teacher (Miss Karen) told the story of David and Goliath. I proved to be a convenient teaching tool. When they were told that Goliath was as tall as me and a half, their eyes just about popped out of their heads. They spent the entire rest of the time (which was dedicated to coloring) sneaking glances at me and giggling furiously. I made more silly faces, and a good time was had by all.
Later we (Miss Karen, the pastor, his friend, and myself) went to eat at someone's house (again, never really sure what's going on, so I can't tell you whose house it was.)
The food was frightening to my sensitive western palate. I like to think I'm a pretty good eater, and I ate it all with a smile on my face, but that smile was not birthed of my gusto.
Most of it was just bland. I can do bland. The plantain was interesting. There was some other tuber-root thing, and something like a potato.
Goodness I loved that potato.
The last item on the menu was Gazelle. People tell me that gazelle is just like deer, but this must have been cooked some odd way, because it smelled like death.
People say the word gag all the time, but it's different when it's an involuntary reaction instead of melodrama.
I was also served Pomplamoose, which is a Gabonese-made grapefruit soda.
That soda pretty much allowed me to eat all my food. I don't think I could have gotten it down otherwise, and after having someone be so kind as to feed me, I didn't want to be rude just because I'm bad at eating African food.
The toughest thing right now is the language. I'm getting sick of not being able to talk to people. Every French speaker I talk to says I have very little accent when I speak, but my vocabulary is pretty small. Please pray that I can expand it quickly.
Thursday, January 19, 2012
The trip down was crazy. African driving is very scary. The thing that impressed me, however, is the dichotomous quality of the roads. There are no mediocre roads, no "middle of the road" roads, there is just potholes-you-could-fit-a-buick-in type roads and wait-are-we-still-in-Africa? roads.
There are lines on the roads. The good ones. The lines don't mean much though. And every time you hit a stretch of well-paved road, you just want to get to the end, pop it in reverse and drive it again.
We drove through a lot of little villages. This is a developing country, so you see the poverty of their houses juxtaposed with some kid walking down the street listening to his iPod. Weird.
I get the sensation that no one is really starving here. Things are tight, but this is the jungle. It's lush with vegetation, there is food everywhere. That got me to thinking about spiritual hunger. The Newmans, the missionary couple that I drove down with, say that here in Gabon, people are incredibly hungry spiritually.
So I'm kinda... reeling right now I guess. I don't know what to think. There's no distinct "Oh no, look at that baby starving," but there's clearly a need here. But there's that much need anywhere... I dunno. I'll get back to you, but I fear that there is no easy answer. Maybe my brain is just beat from travel. There has been so much to see, and my tiny world has grown so much, that I don't really know where to put myself anymore. And there's too much information being thrown at me to think about each thing in a linear path. So whenever I have enough time to think, I just kinda space out.
Obviously, God has this all under control. And maybe He's demonstrating to me that not everything can be thought into submission. I dunno. Don't, however, take my tone to be forlorn or despairing. I'm happy to wait upon the Lord. I'm just tired. And when I think about this kinda stuff, I get all... Soul Searchy. #adventuretimequotesamidstexistentialquandries
Tuesday, January 17, 2012
Today we did some pest control. You're probably thinking I'm about to tell you some horror story about giant rats and bugs the size of your palm.
Nope.
Shooting dogs with rifles.
So. That was interesting. I'll spare you the details, but it was brutal. Dogs are very vocal about pain.
There's a flip side of course. Dogs in this country are flea and disease-ridden pests, and getting rid of them is good for the people. Still though. Pretty tough to watch.
After that we went to a restaurant that is right on the Hospital property. I had rice and beef. Absolutely massive amounts of food. Puts a garbage plate to shame.
Later today we go to the market.
Nope.
Shooting dogs with rifles.
So. That was interesting. I'll spare you the details, but it was brutal. Dogs are very vocal about pain.
There's a flip side of course. Dogs in this country are flea and disease-ridden pests, and getting rid of them is good for the people. Still though. Pretty tough to watch.
After that we went to a restaurant that is right on the Hospital property. I had rice and beef. Absolutely massive amounts of food. Puts a garbage plate to shame.
Later today we go to the market.
Monday, January 16, 2012
heya
sorry this took so long. they keep me busy around here, and the internet is butts.
I mean, it's a miracle that we even have it, but trying to upload pictures and blog posts is a bit tedious/nigh upon impossible given the tiny bits of free time i can grab now and then.
This place is beautiful. Truly stunning. When I get a free day I will try and capture it for you all. there's this one video that i want you all to see especially, but uploading video may actually be impossible. so maybe i'll save it for 5 months from now.
The people here are treasures, every one of them. The guys I'm working with especially, are fun, jokin' around, warm, welcoming people.
One thing I've learned is the power of being welcoming. It's phenomenal. Paul introduced me to all the guys, and of course there's a pretty obvious barrier between me and the Gabonese French speakers. But as we left the garage, one of them, Olivier, just reached out and gave me a hearty pat on the back.
And then I knew I had been accepted. It was wonderful. So that's what I've taken away so far.
sorry this took so long. they keep me busy around here, and the internet is butts.
I mean, it's a miracle that we even have it, but trying to upload pictures and blog posts is a bit tedious/nigh upon impossible given the tiny bits of free time i can grab now and then.
This place is beautiful. Truly stunning. When I get a free day I will try and capture it for you all. there's this one video that i want you all to see especially, but uploading video may actually be impossible. so maybe i'll save it for 5 months from now.
The people here are treasures, every one of them. The guys I'm working with especially, are fun, jokin' around, warm, welcoming people.
One thing I've learned is the power of being welcoming. It's phenomenal. Paul introduced me to all the guys, and of course there's a pretty obvious barrier between me and the Gabonese French speakers. But as we left the garage, one of them, Olivier, just reached out and gave me a hearty pat on the back.
And then I knew I had been accepted. It was wonderful. So that's what I've taken away so far.
Friday, January 13, 2012
Flying
This airplane is maybe 100 feet long. There is one walking aisle, between two rows of seats. The couple in front of me are talking in a romantic language. They have a tiny son whose head is constantly twisting right and left. My head brushes the ceiling. The steward is also the co pilot. Friendly guy. I mentioned I was going to Africa and he said "right on."
The windows are shaped in an oval that reminds me of portal. I think I'm the most interesting looking person on this flight. Not that that's anything to brag about, these people are just incredibly Canadian looking.
Did I mention how tiny this plane is? For reasons too ironic to sufficiently explain, I'm concerned that this means it won't be able to defy gravity sufficiently. As if gravity and the plane are about to get into a fight, and my prize boxing champ has been skimping on protein shakes.
The lady they keep in the speaker is begrudgingly mumbling incomprehensible safety tips. Oh gosh we're moving. I just learned that the guy in front of me is catholic, despite our language barrier.
I can see into the control room. There's no door. I can't decide if they couldn't afford it or didn't have the room for it. We've been moving around so long on wheels that I wonder if we're just gonna drive there.
Ooh. Acceleration power. Haahahahaha we're not on the ground. The baby's face in front of me is delightful. It's overcast. Aces of the pacific style. Like swimming in gray milk. Every so often I get a wave of vertigo. My butt is buzzing. I chose a seat way too close to the engine. Remember that. The kid in front of me staring at me, wide eyed. Not quite scared. Just curious and a bit incredulous. His father is holding on to him so tightly, I wonder if the wide-eyed look is involuntary.
We just breached the clouds. Noise canceling headphones are good, but they filter about half the noise out. We're leveling out, which means the engines are quieter. Turbulence. Daddy seems to be getting more comfort from junior than vice versa. You can tell if the plane is going up or down. It's distinct. Banking hard is fun. The clouds look like a foamy field of white. I almost expect to see cows hanging out on them. We're going down. Someone in the back is cheering. This is wicked rough. Wow. Hitting the ground is brutal. On the ground now. It's dark out.
The windows are shaped in an oval that reminds me of portal. I think I'm the most interesting looking person on this flight. Not that that's anything to brag about, these people are just incredibly Canadian looking.
Did I mention how tiny this plane is? For reasons too ironic to sufficiently explain, I'm concerned that this means it won't be able to defy gravity sufficiently. As if gravity and the plane are about to get into a fight, and my prize boxing champ has been skimping on protein shakes.
The lady they keep in the speaker is begrudgingly mumbling incomprehensible safety tips. Oh gosh we're moving. I just learned that the guy in front of me is catholic, despite our language barrier.
I can see into the control room. There's no door. I can't decide if they couldn't afford it or didn't have the room for it. We've been moving around so long on wheels that I wonder if we're just gonna drive there.
Ooh. Acceleration power. Haahahahaha we're not on the ground. The baby's face in front of me is delightful. It's overcast. Aces of the pacific style. Like swimming in gray milk. Every so often I get a wave of vertigo. My butt is buzzing. I chose a seat way too close to the engine. Remember that. The kid in front of me staring at me, wide eyed. Not quite scared. Just curious and a bit incredulous. His father is holding on to him so tightly, I wonder if the wide-eyed look is involuntary.
We just breached the clouds. Noise canceling headphones are good, but they filter about half the noise out. We're leveling out, which means the engines are quieter. Turbulence. Daddy seems to be getting more comfort from junior than vice versa. You can tell if the plane is going up or down. It's distinct. Banking hard is fun. The clouds look like a foamy field of white. I almost expect to see cows hanging out on them. We're going down. Someone in the back is cheering. This is wicked rough. Wow. Hitting the ground is brutal. On the ground now. It's dark out.
Wednesday, January 11, 2012
Taco Night
I like Tacos. Not so much detailed planning. I can handle the latter, however, so long as it is in conjunction with the former.
Tonight, the Curry family had dinner with that most delightful of couples, Dave and Diann Conquest. After feasting on tacos and chatting about various Africa-themed things, they helped me pack up all of my things (and sent along a few treats for their family.)
Their daughter Joanna Thelander is the woman who I initially talked with about going down for a mission trip.
*full circle!*
Then we had a delightful session of prayer, being thankful and asking for blessings and whatnot. It was good.
So now I'm packed. Chilling with my family for the last time in a while, and tomorrow I leave. My mom is spazzing, just a little. I'm a space cadet. Maybe I'll realize how crazy this is when I'm thousands of feet above the ground.
Africaboy, up, up, and away!
Tonight, the Curry family had dinner with that most delightful of couples, Dave and Diann Conquest. After feasting on tacos and chatting about various Africa-themed things, they helped me pack up all of my things (and sent along a few treats for their family.)
Their daughter Joanna Thelander is the woman who I initially talked with about going down for a mission trip.
*full circle!*
Then we had a delightful session of prayer, being thankful and asking for blessings and whatnot. It was good.
So now I'm packed. Chilling with my family for the last time in a while, and tomorrow I leave. My mom is spazzing, just a little. I'm a space cadet. Maybe I'll realize how crazy this is when I'm thousands of feet above the ground.
Africaboy, up, up, and away!
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