When We Are Coming Home

As our stomachs are finally settling from our 2 week journey around Guinea with limited control over our diets and no control over the road conditions, we’re already looking towards our return to the US.

We’ve begun more earnestly asking God what’s next for us. Honestly, it’s a little frightening, because we’d almost prefer to say, “All right, we did our time, we think we deserve to live in comfort and be with our friends now. You’re welcome, God.” But we do believe that God’s plan for us will always be better and more exciting than our own. It has been eye-opening to see not only ministries here, but to see/read/hear about voids and problems and hurts all over our world. Sadly, the solutions seem so slow and complex.

WorldVenture graciously and strategically broke protocol in letting us leave for Guinea without being fully supported. This would allow us better overlap with our target group of students and professors and we’ve already seen that strategy pay off. The idea was: Go now, and stay until you run out of money.

This may seem like a lot of money, but in Guinea the exchange rates is 7000 Guinea Franc for ever $1 USD.

Despite our frugal lifestyle (we spent $75 on food in January-do that math: $1.25/person/day) the “run out of money” part is approaching. Despite being eager to get home, we also want to stay here as long as possible. We have enough money to last us through the end of March and plan to pay for April out of our personal funds. 

As we try to balance between trusting God and being responsible, we feel confident that we can handle this. God provided someone to live in our house so we only have to pay half our mortgage while we’re gone. God provided someone to watch Fenley (our dog) for free until we return (we kept his papers to make sure we get him back). He gave us money through ZipAfrica bags, a benefit concert, our work, cold calls, a weightlift-a-thon, garage sales, odd jobs, and many of you: our close friends.

We’re going to trust Him to provide what we need cover the rest of our mortgage when we return, to get Fenley back, hold us over until Brandon returns to Global (whose offer of a job was another God-send) and Hannah finds work, and to cover our costs of living here. Guinea ministry money, personal money…it’s all God’s money right?

Maybe you have a desire to be a part of God’s plan to fill those needs both here and in Indiana. There’s an easy, tax-deductible way in that gray button right over there >>>.

Photo Tour de Guinea

After almost two weeks of traveling, we’re back in Kankan. Here’s a rundown of some of our journeying:

We were able to visit two gold mines in Kouroussa. The hot, dusty, remote tarp-towns full of shovels, 160 foot deep holes, noisy generators to pump air into the pits and to wash, re-wash and finally hand-wash the tons of dirt made it obvious why gold is expensive. It takes a very keen eye to catch a flake of gold in a mound of gravelly sludge and most of what we saw was just dust.

We traveled south about 4 hours to Kissidougou and visited some Swiss missionaries and a Guinean-run Telekoro Bible school. The director of the Bible school told stories of how Paul Ellenberger (whose grandchildren went to school with me, Brandon) begged Guinea’s first president, Sekou Toure, to let him stay in Guinea when foreigners were booted and Communism embraced. As a childhood friend, Toure let Paul stay and a few years later, on Paul’s behalf missionaries were slowly allowed back in. 

From there we drove within 35 miles of the source of the Niger River before the 1986 Peugeot 505 station wagon with a lift kit that was our carriage, had the clutch disc come apart. We paid $15 for a 13 mile tow over grungy roads behind a pickup truck. The tow rope broke 6 times which left about 2 feet between the cars by the time we arrived in Marella where we would spend the next 5 hours. We ate a 75 cent plate of peanut sauce in a “truck stop” restaurant while the nearby vultures watched. Literally. The cost of 2 sets of clutch discs, gas for the two mechanics to ride their moto 80 miles round trip, labor for 4 to remove the engine to replace the disc, plus the tow was $90!

After seeing a troupe of wild red monkeys cross the road (Hannah’s favorite part of the journey), we arrived in Kindia 17 hours after leaving Kissidougou. We spent the night at an interesting hotel: no electricity, lights, towels, sheets, running water, soap, bath mat, or toilet paper. Fortunately, we had most of the necessities in our luggage. To be fair, it only cost us $7. 

We spent 5 nights at a Kids in Crisis Center for orphans and abandoned children. We figured after all the rice/sauce and mystery meat we had eaten, we should splurge on burgers, chawarmas and pop for a few days. We did a little grocery shopping (skipped the $11 box of Frosted Flakes) and took a few taxi rides. For 15 cents a “place” (not necessarily a seat) we could ride between major intersections. We were a little surprised the first time the driver slowed to pick up a passenger when we were already 6 deep plus a nursing baby in the 1980’s Nissan Sunny (google it).

We attended the GBU Board meeting (which lasted 7 hours) to learn about the finances, work, vision, and projects that GBU is undertaking throughout Guinea. We were also able to get 1 year visas for $100 each (our last round of 3 month visas cost $160 each). We visited the Blackwells, Americans living in Conakry, and learned about some of the cool projects they’re undertaking with the elite businesspeople in Conakry as well as some ladies traveling on MercyShips. 

Leaving Conakry led to 14 hour trip including a 7 hour stop to replace the fan belt and whole fan system. We spent yet another day on the side of the road waiting—marveling that we could be on the side of the road typing emails but have to walk to a stream to get 5 gallons of radiator water to carry back to the car. We spent the night in Mamou where Brandon’s aunt and uncle went to school in the 1960’s as well as Wes Stafford (former president of Compassion International and author of “Too Small to Ignore”). 

From Mamou we continued deeper into the mountains and in Labe we experienced weather in the 50s and spent time with the Blessings, another WorldVenture couple. We were able to worship in a classroom with some University students Sunday morning (and place our tithes in a colander), and with a small Fulani gathering in the afternoon (and place our tithes in the leader’s baseball cap). While in Labe, the fan and belt broke again. It was repaired in time to start the journey home but while in the mountains, the bolts that the lug nuts are fastened to (to hold the wheel on) broke loose. We limped the last 4 miles into town with two half-tightened lug nuts holding one of the rear wheels on. 

After skipping our fourth meal on the road and evenly coating ourselves in dust, we bounced into Kankan 12 hours later, happy to be back.

We both loved be able to see so much of Guinea but we mourned the fact that God didn’t call us  to one of the cooler, more beautiful parts! It was also encouraging to see so many different ministries as well as so many youth taking responsibility and engaging in ministry voluntarily without someone else prompting or pressuring. 

Why ELSE Business as Mission?

It’s not documented nor is it necessarily always true, but I’ve decided that there is nothing as unifying as commerce. 

Don’t look for holes in the theory, look for truths. Regardless of your geographic location, income bracket, culture, religion, personality, handicap, color or any other factor, commerce is a part of life. Moreover, it’s a part of life into which we enter voluntarily and both sides of a business interaction benefit from the transaction. (Sure we whine about how expensive gas is, but if gas wasn’t more useful than currency, you’d dump bills into your tank or not buy the gas at all. And vendors complain about overhead, licenses, taxes and employee benefits but if it wasn’t worth it, they wouldn’t open a business.)

Business brings us all together and in Guinea, that means a relationship is forged. Just today I went to 7 different stores to find a 12v lightbulb to replace one that burned out. I was asked about my day, my errands, things at home, my wife and I was wished a good day and good luck having children. After learning my name, one man said, “Good. I’m glad to have met you. Now we’re friends.”

So business is even more unifying here. More than anything else.

Sports just unify us against someone else. Patriotism the same. Race, age, gender, nationality and language unify some of us. Even churches (be honest) aren’t that unified. We’re possessive of our pastor, our worship band. Look at all the denominations and doctrinal differences. There’s hardly any racial diversity in our churches.

Why is that a big deal?

Guinea feels this disunity daily. There may not (currently) be racial violence but there’s tension. How die-hard Cubs fans feel when they see someone with a Cardinals hat on. They’re not going to punch them but they won’t be hanging out together or consider each other a reliable source of information or potential business partner, or hear what they have to say about God. Imagine one or both of them were drunk: different story. The tension’s there waiting for a spark. Here it seems politicians often offer that spark.

“Among the 25 countries (in 2012) experiencing armed conflict within their borders, 60% of the population is under the age of 30. Many of the young men born into fractured societies struggle to overcome years of missed schooling and are chronically poor…Their collective discontent and social disengagement, combined with the easy availability of small arms, virtually guarantee catastrophe…locking civilians in a recurring cycle of poverty, human misery and instability.”-War Child founder Samantha Nutt in Damned Nations: Greed, Guns, Armies & Aid 

Our goal is to offer people something better to do. When tensions are high and some politician is trying to rile people up by demonizing some ethnic group, we want small business owners to be able to say, “Things may not be perfect in my country, but I’ve got a nice little thing going here that provides for me and allows me to interact with people. Plus, I’m doing my part to build Guinea’s economy.” Sounds like a good excuse. And beyond that, we hope to help develop a system that will be training motivated, capable, passionate Christians to use their businesses as a platform to share the Gospel through business relationships.

And where will people receive this training? Sitting side by side with someone from a different ethnic group. The GBU Center is open to everyone. Doesn’t matter if you support the Cubs, Cardinals, Red Sox, Yankees, Michigan, Ohio State, Manchester United or Arsenal. Hopefully by the end of the program you’ll see a classmate and friend under the hat they’re wearing or behind the tribe they come from.

If you played a college sport near where you went to high school, you know how quickly rivalry can fade and become camaraderie. 

Guinea could benefit from a stronger economy and a better sense of unity. Business as Mission can meet both those needs through the Business Program at the Center. We’ll share more about how that looks in the next few weeks.

...... In other news: We submitted our grant proposal requesting money to launch the Driver’s Education Program. Praying for wisdom there and trusting that God will send the money where it needs to go even if it’s not here.

We also found some time to escape to outside of town and spend an afternoon on a "date" by the river. We took a lunch, had a picnic and enjoyed being where it was quiet and we could be alone. 

We visited some humanitarian projects in a village a couple hours away. They're in a similar vein of work without the hope of Christ. We saw a swimming pool, chimpanzee, and puppies too. We also broke down twice.

-Brandon

Why Business As Missions?

Why Business as Missions?

I’ve been doing a lot of thinking over this question the last few weeks. I’m in the process of filling out a grant application. All the rumors you’ve ever heard about how much work and how in-depth they are is unequivocally true. While I am challenged by it—it’s the good kind of challenge.

It’s the kind of challenge that has made me really dig down and examine what we are in Guinea to do. It’s made me ask: why business as missions?

We are frequently surrounded by other missionaries while we are here in Africa. We get to directly hear about God’s work that is happening on this side of the world. There are missionaries here doing church planting, translating the bible, teaching discipleship and training pastors. There are missionaries who train doctors and nurses. There are missionaries who develop radio programs to broadcast God’s word. There are missionaries who share the gospel with children, who develop friendships with Muslims and explore with them how Christ can change their lives.

Then there’s us.

How can I even begin to justify our work here when I stack it up next to all the amazing, inspiring and obviously Kingdom-growing work being done in West Africa? I get shy and apprehensive when missionaries ask us “what is your ministry in Guinea?” Sometimes I muster up all of my communication expertise, try to put my 4-year, umpteen thousand dollar communication degree to work and present a prolonged persuasion of why what I do in Guinea will make an impact on the Kingdom of God. And yet other times I simply reply that we do “business as missions” or “business development” because I think that if I explain in more detail what it is we are doing, their eyes will glaze over and I’ll see blank faces staring back at me.

And I wonder if part of the barrier is that traditionally missions has been things like church planting, pastoral training and bible translation. It’s no surprise that my role as business developer doesn’t fit into the outline that’s been created over centuries of missions work.

If business isn’t a traditional ministry, hasn’t been tested, tried and true and doesn’t have obvious visual results of life changes, then why do it? Why do we leave our home? Why do we leave behind our family, our friends, our pets? Why do we spend months and months going through the awkward process of asking people for money and fundraising? Why put ourselves through the hassle of international travel or the trepidation of adapting to a new culture? Why persevere through feeling unsure and unintelligent learning a new language? Why endure having “white person, white person” chanted at us any time we leave our home? Why do we live without foods we are used to eating and comforts we are used to having?

Often I will respond with, “because God asked us to.” And that’s true. That’s the main reason I do all of those things. And hopefully a viable reason for most of the choices I make. When God says jump, you jump. But “because God says so” isn’t a reason with any real heart behind it. That's a reason with an obligation. It’s the same reason kids eat their broccoli or brush their teeth. Someone said to. It’s not because they truly believe that broccoli will change their overall health or that teeth brushing will reduce dental bills.

So for the past few weeks as I continue to wrestle with “why business as missions?” I’ve done more than just come up with a solid persuasive essay for my grant proposal—I’ve evaluated why we are here, why I am really here.

It’s more than “because God asked us to.”

I really believe in this stuff.

I believe that there are people who will not enter into friendship with Jesus through traditional evangelism and missions. In fact, there are people here who may never interact with a Christian…. 

…unless their drivers education teacher was a Christian, or the guy who prints their photos, or the lady who sells them their rice. 

Business is a daily, engrained part of every Guineans life. A large majority of Guineans own their own small business. And if we are really supposed to “meet them where they are” as I’ve heard said so many times, then this is the place. They’re selling oranges.They’re buying vegetables. They’re adding minutes to their cell phones. They’re having clothes made. They’re buying property. They’re doing all the things it takes to run a household. 

By helping national believers to start businesses we are affording them the opportunity to do life with their muslim neighbors. Their business is a tool to share the gospel. Where there may not have been a way to meet new people and “be Jesus to them,” there now is. 

While I may not be directly sharing the good news of Jesus with people in Guinea, and believe me, I doubt my French is good enough to do so, I am enabling the people who live here, who raise families here and who call this place their home a chance to minister to people they otherwise would not have come in contact with.

And even though I’ve had to struggle with my insecurities about figuring out exactly how I can justify my non-traditional ministry, it’s become more and more clear that an approach to introducing people to Jesus that may seem unorthodox and unusual is the perfect approach for me, unorthodox and unusual me.

-Hannah

Travelling in Africa Can Be Like...

Traveling in Africa is a great opportunity and sometimes it comes at a high price. We decided to share a story that goes beyond the cliche whining about lousy roads. I will share it as if it had happened to me, but in reality, it happened to one our missionary colleagues: 

Last week, I was within 45 minutes of completing my 11 hour, 300 mile drive out of the mountains to spend the night in Kankan before heading to Bamako for a Leadership meeting. Upon approaching a gendarme (literally: man of arms- I’ll call it a cross between police and military) checkpoint I was waved to slow down, which I did. (These checkpoints are common throughout West Africa and are used to check validity of papers and monitor who and what is on the road.) 

I interpreted the next wave as a wave to continue driving but based on my rearview mirror, it had been a wave to pull over, so I did. Mid-apology for the misunderstanding, I was gruffly told to turn around and go back to the checkpoint. 

Upon reaching the checkpoint, I handed over my paperwork and was issued a fine for 300,000 GNF (a little over $40). I pled my case that it was a misunderstanding but it fell upon a set of rude and busy ears. There were perhaps a dozen other people begging to have their paperwork returned-some agreed to pay small “fines”. I finally told him to write me the ticket and I would pay the fine in town at the office according to the law. He refused to write me a ticket but decreased the fine to 240,000 GNF to be paid on the spot.

I called my colleague in Kankan who gave my number to a pastor friend who called me back and asked to speak to the gendarme. After taking the phone, I heard the officer say, “This is between this man and the government, God has nothing to do with this.”

(Toyota cas a corner on the market for African Misisonaries- this is the parking lot at

Thanksgiving)

A few minutes later, my phone rang with someone else on the line asking to speak to the officer. While the officer was refusing, the call was dropped. I learned who was on the line and informed the officer that he had just refused a call from his colonel wanting to know why he wasn’t answering the radio and what category of offense I was being ticketed for. His face turned a little less angry and a little more serious. I was immediately issued a ticket for 140,000 GNF. He took the call the next time. The colonel said I was to be released with a ticket and the officer was to report to the headquarters in Kankan at 7am tomorrow with my vehicle title and driver’s license to settle the issue.

The next morning at 9, my colleague, his pastor friend and I visited the colonel to thank him for his help. The officer in question had not been heard from, but his captain was present to wash his hands of the situation. I handed my ticket to the colonel, ready to pay but he told me I would not be paying the fine. He radioed all the gendarme posts in the region to let them know that if the saw the man who hassled me, he should be sent to speak with the colonel. He then sent several men out on motos to find the guy. He looked at us and held up his hand saying, “Just as all the fingers are not the same length, not all of us gendarmes are the same.”

In order to reach Bamako, only 200 miles away on a pristine new road, we had to reach the border before it closed at 6pm and I still lacked a Malian visa. When we could wait no longer, my colleague offered to drive, we borrowed another truck, had new “mission papers” printed for border crossing and got our passports stamped 20 minutes before the border closed. The gendarmes there hustled to fill out our paperwork allowing us to drive across the point border and walk back to get the necessary papers. The next 3 border stops took a couple hours as we waited for the call (and response) to prayer, the officials to eat and fill out our paperwork. Everyone joked, we exchanged phone numbers and were wished safe travels while we promised to return soon and greet them. Despite having to work late because of our tardiness, we were very well taken care of. 

Because my title and license were gone and my truck left in Kankan, my colleague had to drive me back to Kankan. This meant crossing the border 4 times in 5 days. The second and third times we were waved through in only 45 minutes with handshakes, phone numbers, jokes and food sharing. Once, we didn’t even get our passports stamped. The fourth time we were told that we had to have 1 year, multiple entry visas instead of the 3 month multiple entry visas. We were accused of being dishonest and trying to hide something from the government and don’t talk to me and sit up straight and this is the LAST time. 

Not all the fingers are the same length.

The colonel did get my papers back. He didn’t offer an explanation and my curiosity pushed me to ask but it seemed rude. We paid him a visit with my boss’s boss who was at the Leadership meeting to thank and re-thank him for his service and hospitality toward our mission. 

God provided us alternate plans when we got jammed, peace through stress (He wasn’t stressed), cash on hand when needed, introductions to new people, and RELATIONSHIPS to depend on. These relationships have been cultivated by our colleagues years before we thought about Guinea. It’s not WHAT you know it’s WHO you know, right? 

Wasn’t this whole ordeal really just a parallel to our faith? I had done something wrong (a minor offense but still a blemish) and “the enemy” (for lack of a better word) held it over me. But I knew someone who would accept my confession and request for forgiveness because I knew him. And God tied up every lose end and opened every door along the way. 

So as you form your opinions of people, remember “not all the fingers are the same length”. Also, watch closely because the tough parts of our lives might be God reminding us of our redemption.

Also, Happy New Year! (Freezer Defrost Day)

Twas The Night Before Christmas

’Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house

Creatures were stirring- I literally saw a mouse;

No stockings hung- No chimney there

Not a single decoration…anywhere.

No children nestled, just empty beds,

Visions of children playing in OUR heads.

Hannah, clean from her bucket bath, lying next to me,

Guessing how long tomorrow’s church service will be.

When out in the yard there arose such a clatter:

The Muslim call to prayer-nothing NEW is the matter.

Five times a day for the past 1400 years,

it becomes background, but brings God to tears.

The star and crescent moon on every mosque’s dome

While the faithful inside, choose their eternal home.

The prayers of a thousand followers of Al-Islam

To America just carriers of a suicide bomb.

Their submission and commitment is to be admired,

When for shallowness and ease, our lives seem wired.

They live lives of fear, devoid of hope.

Fates dangling in the balance of the good/bad rope.

Working so hard to earn what God freely gives,

We know Jesus was born, died and He lives!

But to everyone else in this gigantic town

Tomorrow’s just like today-nothing closes down.

We call this day “Merry” for a celebration it should be

But no one here knows Jesus died for you AND me.

He came as a baby and grew into a man,

Who died on the cross at the sin of our hand.

We didn’t deserve it- eternal life is a gift

And accepting it’s the one way to bridge the rift.

It’s not the prayers or good deeds that can save

It’s accepting the One who rose from the grave.

It’s crazy-we’re the ones Jesus wants to be WITH,

Sometimes we treat Him like it’s all a myth.

“God WITH us” is what tomorrow’s about,

but “Allah U Akhbar” is what the muezzin will shout.

He came to save us- my neighbors and me,

To be WITH us, rescue us, set us free.

I wish that Kankan could just understand,

that Jesus is God, but wanted to be man.

And because He is both, we can call him “Friend”

Only He can save us from the saddest end.

As we turn off the solar light, we decide to watch “Elf”

A familiar taste of Christmas from off the shelf.

We’ve been planning this Christmas for almost a year,

We aren’t where we expected, instead, we are here.

No presents, no family, no puppy, no tree

No shopping, no carols, no cookies, no glee.

There’s sheep and there’s goats, there’s dust and there’s hay

Maybe we’re pretty close to that first Christmas Day

Our Bamako Trip

The weather continues to cool here in Kankan and we even had two consecutive cloudy days! Which actually isn’t great news because we depend on the sun for all our electricity.

We’ve been playing the role of chauffeur this past week, running the road between Kankan and Bamako with other WorldVenture missionaries. We took advantage of the chance to sit on on some WorldVenture West Africa Field Leader meetings- decades of experience doing ministry in West Africa. We visited a newly renovated park in Bamako and toured the new zoo.

Bamako has some pretty classy restaurants so we treated ourselves to salads, nems, burgers, pizza, ravioli, ice cream and chocolate. We also got to visit with the Ellenbergers (CMA missionaries that Brandon grew up with). We also got to enjoy the big grocery store available in Bamako and the purchase of lots of foods (meats, cheeses, chocolates, canned goods) that we cannot buy in Kankan.

On the medical front, we took advantage of the Bamako health care to get Hannah’s lump checked out and the consensus is that it’s nothing to be worried about, which is a relief. Also, Brandon’s dad is recovering well from his quadruple bypass surgery in Maine. Today we were supposed to arrive in Abidjan, Cote d’Ivoire (the Paris of Africa- as it used to be known) on our vacation and would be heading to the beach even now…

Instead we have agreed to host a Peace Corps girl and her family who is coming to visit for Christmas.

Upon our return to Kankan, Hannah had a new experience: urban gunfire. For several months there has a apparently been a midnight curfew in Kankan. A well known, local soccer player was out late and when we he was questioned, things escalated and got out of hand. He died later that night, apparently at the hospital. This news led to some protesting, destruction of the police building, burning of cars, yard-trashing, brick-throwing, etc. The police countered trying to keep the peace and some guns were fired, presumable into the air as an intimidation tactic. The reports are conflicting with up to 54 injured and up to 5 dead. The city was pretty closed up. No one opened their shops, schools were closed, the market was closed, everyone just sat around in groups discussing the events of the past few hours. 

We are supposed to begin training a paint crew to help paint the Center on Thursday. After Christmas Vacation the place should look really nice to get the new semester going.

Lastly, over the next month we will be applying for a $5000 grant from a church near Indianapolis to help develop the Driver’s Ed Program, Business Training Program and Business Incubation Fund at the Center. This is a pretty big deal and would be a huge asset. In the next few weeks we’ll share some of our dreams for these programs and the Center.

-Brandon

GIVINGTHANKS when it's tough

Yesterday was a tough day. I woke up early (not my thing) to find out that my guard had somehow locked me in the courtyard. I climbed the 9 foot wall over the steel-spiked gate to ride on the back of a motorcycle to a prayer meeting. The setting, beautiful: overlooking the river. The focus, tragic: after 90 years of ministry focus with an unreached people group, it seems our generation is still being asked to clear rocks out of the field-the seeds haven’t really been planted, much less harvested.

I got back to the house and took Hannah next door to a missionary nurse to have a look at a bump on her side that’s been giving her constant pain for over 4 days. It IS a bump and she DOES have cancer history on both sides of her family so I don’t feel like a hypochondriac. It’s about a 6 hour, $200 ride to a hospital with an MRI and it’s in a different country. The car we would need to take has been trying to overheat despite my very diligent radiator monitoring. Sidenote, the nurse didn’t have much to go on so we didn’t really get an answer. 

At 11:00 I rode my bike about 4 miles across town in my jeans to give said car a break. Plus the trip costs about $5 round trip. So I gratefully accepted the dry 90’s heat in place of the muggy 100’s that awaits us in March. I spent about an hour try to fix a printer problem (I’m far from a technician) but the blue and black ink refuse to flow consistently. 

The printer was bought on CraigsList and carried in a Hager box stuffed with boxers through 4 airports in 3 countries before it started the bumpy 6 hour ride to Kankan. So maybe it doesn’t owe me much, but it DID work perfectly the day BEFORE we announced the business was ready to go. 

Ready to re-enact a certain scene from “Office Space”, I rode home- away from the river, so uphill. I stopped and bought bread, and after dodging a (very small) rock a kid threw at the “toubabou” I got home for lunch: A tomato on bread, plus mayo. My 22nd loaf of bread this month. 

After lunch I decided not to set the Solar Shower bag in the sun- a cold shower later would feel nice, I’d be sweaty. I got back on the bike and rode around a nearby neighborhood for 40 minutes trying to find another nurse’s house. I’d only been there once before so I had to turn around a lot which drew extra stares. Like a circus monkey on a bike. Some days the stares and chants wear on me more than others. Today was one of those days. 

Finally found the right house and headed for home trying to remember how I got there. Topped off the radiator and a grimacing Hannah got in the passenger seat. After a prognosis of “maybe an inflamed nerve, try Ibuprofen”, I inched the car home wondering if anyone recognized me as the bike-monkey from earlier.

At home, I can get out of my shoes, socks, jeans and shirt in about 15 seconds and I do almost every time I close the door behind me. I decided to see if I could send and receive emails. 

Our internet wasn’t working last week, but I think I figured it out Sunday and bought 5 hours worth of time as a test. In the past 3 days, we had used 1:04.52 and it turns out that’s all my $6 was gonna be good for. So much for that money I saved riding across town.

Normally, this would be a run-of-the-mill inconvenience but through time zone and internet delay, I just found out my dad had a heart attack Sunday night. I was hoping for a little more info. The rest of my family will make it to Maine to spend Thanksgiving together, I’m just hoping for enough internet to find out what’s going on. 

Especially since we’ve been planning a family Christmas vacation (all four boys and the two “new” wives) to Cote d’Ivoire: Hannah’s never been there. And because of the civil war and second evacuation this would be the first time in 10 years my family would be all together in the place I most often call “home”. Looks like that might be on hold now too.

No internet, back on the bike to the Areeba store. I explain that my 30 hours of internet didn’t last 8 hours and my 5 hours barely made it 1. I am told that if I disconnect the internet thumb drive before clicking “Disconnect” it stays connected. “I choose to remain dubious” (-Ghost and the Darkness) but have no choice. 

Butt, meet bike seat. Oh, you’ve already met. Gotta buy phone credit now to try the new internet solution. The phone credit guys all tell me the same thing: “You gotta get rid of Areeba, they’re thieves. You need Orange.” “Good idea. Maybe I’ll try that”. I already know that Orange is not compatible with our Mac. I think we over-updated or something. They tell me the Areeba lady must be crazy because of course it doesn’t stay connected when you remove the thumb drive. Great. I buy another $5 of time and since it’s dusk, bike home. I arrive smelling like sweat, exhaust, and cooking fire smoke. I slowly realize what an awful day it’s been. 

Then...

I hear my neighbors. Pretty easy because people basically live outside here.

Most of them were up before me, even today and don’t have guards or gates. Most are sharing a home with extended family. Many of them are plugging faithfully away at a job with a barely sustainable future. And even MORE faithfully, they’re responding to the Muslim call to prayer and totally missing out on the grace and rescue Christ brought us. Tragic.

Most of my neighbors do not have cars. (Some do. Some are much wealthier than we are). Most of them might struggle to find a nurse. If they found one could they afford it? Family medical history? Good one.

The AVERAGE Guinean seems to own their own business. Not quite as lucrative as you may think, but there IS a lot of freedom in that. The constant battle to keep something going when it seems to fail inconveniently is just life. Also, CragisList- not real big here.

Eating a (meatless, cheeseless) sandwich for 3+ weeks straight? You eat what’s in season when it’s in season. When it’s out, you eat the other stuff in season. There ISN’T a stashed jar of homemade strawberry jam to satisfy a craving.

It would not be inconceivable for all of my neighbors to die never having had a hot shower. Hot bucket bath, sure, but not a single hot shower? It could happen. And I suppose I’ve been trained what to yell every time Neil Diamond sings, “Good times never seemed so good.....” so the chants are really just a product of culture.

One of the nurses we saw had told us that when they ask people if they’ve been taking medication for ailments they say “yeah, the red ones and the brown ones”- often Asian knock-offs or maybe even placebos. Sometimes the red ones are iron pills sometimes Sudafed. So I guess that 500ct bottle of Ibuprofen is a real luxury for this neighborhood.

I guess I’m even a lucky “displaced person”. I got out of that war pretty cleanly compared to most. Then I realized that even though my dad is in his fifties, he has exceeded my neighbors’ life expectancy significantly. Yikes. And I’m not even sure how many hospitals are within 6 hours of him right now.

Most of my neighbors have (multiple) cell phones and many of them are smart phones. But buying internet to check email or texts or Twitter? To blog for people thousands of miles away? People who support you and believe in you? People who will give you an American job, watch your dog while you’re gone, check your mail for you and try to send you concert clips to keep you connected? People who could bring you home with a few mouse clicks? People who miss you? People who pray for you? People who care about your neighbors enough to pay for you to come try help people show them something new? Probably not that kind of internet.

So you know what? I struggle most days over who’s doing it right. The lonely, spoiled, rich, educated, convenient, democratic Americans or the community fueled, optimistic, surviving, knowledge-thirsty, HARD-working Guineans in my neighborhood. At the river this morning I remember something that brought me my answer: 

Neither. The WHOLE world is broken. Ruined. Everyone is trying to get by because this isn’t how God wanted it. But He’s gonna fix it and it’s gonna be literally (that word is sacred to me) perfect. And I’m gonna be there to see it and I really, really want my neighbors to be there too. And that’s why this wasn’t such a bad day at all. Yeah, life is really hard here for us. We didn’t choose this as a vacation, we chose it because we feel God asked us to.

As I look around, I guess there are plenty of things I can be GIVINGTHANKS for...besides Fanta Cocktail (the truck came in).

Psalm 30:5 “Weeping may remain for a night, but rejoicing comes in the morning.”

Grocery Shopping in Guinea

You’ve never really experienced grocery shopping until you’ve had to do it in an African open-air market!

I believe we’ve shared about the market and food here in Guinea before... but this time we have pictures! You’re really not supposed to take pictures in Kankan without some sort of written permission we’ve been told... but my husband is a rebel and is very sneaky. Thanks to bringing back a smart phone we don’t use in America because of a broken screen (yes it was me that clumsily dropped it!) Brandon was able to pretend like he was talking on the phone while snapping some candid shots of the market place in Kankan! (the things we do for our readership!)

This includes of course, some very disgusting pictures of how the meat is delivered to the market:

Yes, despite seeing that picture we still bought some beef, still cooked it, and still ate it!

Grocery shopping is a process: going from one vendor, to the next, to the next until you finally are able to cross off every item on your list (which in the end only costs you about $15!). We try to go to market only once a week and get all the fresh veggies, flour, sugar, milk and other assorted items we need for that week. Most of the Guineans go every day because there is no electricity, therefore no fridges. And in the spirit of Thanksgiving, this reminds me: I am SO thankful to have a fridge here!

There are stall after stall after stall of fresh bread, potatoes, onions, peppers, avocados, tomatoes, carrots, cucumbers, eggplant, squash, lettuce, eggs, cans of tomato paste and mayonnaise, flour piled high on a rickety table, sugar, and stacks of chicken, beef, shrimp and fish bouillon. I’ve yet to figure out the thought process behind vendors setting up next to someone who sells the exact same thing. There’s a whole street of dozens of women who sell just onions! I often wonder where the competitive edge is--how do they stand out from the lady next to them selling the very same onion?

And after a hot day of tramping through the market, shoulder to shoulder through crowded streets, smelling delightful smells like raw beef, fish ground into a fine powder and the general aroma of sweat, with everyone staring at us because it is painfully obvious we are not African, we finally get home... only to have to soak our veggies in bleach and water for some time before we can even eat them!

-Hannah

Yep, despite a brand new unmarked “speed mountain’s” best attempt to bust our axles and send us into the ditch, we drove the old potholed airport runway to our overgrown driveway. After arriving in Kankan we were reunited with the hospitality and caring that surrounds the mission community here. Getting in Sunday evening there was not a lot of time to think of preparing food and definitely no quick, pre-packaged food to buy or eat, so we were extremely pleased when we heard that different missionaries would be providing 5 meals for us this first week! So thoughtful and kind!

Despite having to leave our passports with a stranger and sneak through Senegalese immigration to recheck our bags, have our overweight fees (for the transfer airline) waived, and being taken into the airplane underbelly to verify that nothing was being smuggled in the soccer balls, all four bags survived the plane rides and “speed mountain”.

It turns out when you take 200 + pounds of luggage with you there is a lot of unpacking to be done! The printer, cheese powder and fans all made it safely. We’ve already re-wired the 12v fans we purchased in Elkhart (huge advantage to living near the RV capital of the world). Although the heat is not nearly as intense as you may remember us writing about in March. Still warm but we’ve been heading to bed at about 84 degrees and waking up at 79. 

We’ve mostly established ourselves in the same house we were in last time. We arranged bathmats, made beds, moved furniture built a spice rack, and found a home for our stuff. We were expecting to be sharing it with two Korean girls, but it turns out we’ll have it to ourselves for a while. 

As we prepared to rinse the traveling dust off our bodies and head to bed, we received our true “Bonne Arrivee”: no water. It seemed a much easier pill to swallow this time around as we bucket-bathed ourselves clean and headed to bed. The problem was easily solved the next morning. With the help of some gifts from friends and the Mishawaka hardware, we've got a solar heated shower now

We’re struggling to work out some internet kinks. It seems our Mac software was updated too much to be compatible with the best USB internet available here. The older company doesn’t require a download but the connection is poor so we may be walking to a nearby SIM office to buy some of their internet every few days.

We are definitely taking advantage of the fantastic French bread available here (as well as adopting Guinea’s high-carb diet): We’ve had sandwiches every day since the plane landed!

-Brandon

We've Made It!

There’s no doubt most of you have not lost any sleep over an absence of news about our recent travels (excluding of course, our parents... maybe!), but incase you have and need to sleep badly.... the good news is we made it!

After an hour or so from O’hare to Washington DC, eight hours from DC to Dakar, Senegal and two hours from there we made it.... to Bamako, Mali! After all that traveling we still had not made it to our final destination of Kankan, Guinea. 

We arrived in Bamako late morning on Thursday October 31st, which despite it being Halloween we did not see a single costume! :) We spent most of Thursday recovering from traveling and finding out when the Guinea Consulate was open so we could try to get our visas, hopefully before the weekend came. And (as an amazing answer to prayer... a huge thanks to everyone who prayed for this!), we were able to obtain the visa we needed to leave Mali and go to Guinea, without having to extend our stay in Mali! 

We loaded up on some supplies that are expensive in Guinea, or even non-existent, things like: toilet paper, canned goods, a stove lighter (this means I no longer have to worry I will singe my fingertips off when I light my stove by match!), cheese ($11 a pound!), ground beef (surprisingly, only $2.50... I expected it to cost much more!). We opted out of purchasing special K ($11 a box!)...besides we had two bags of lucky charms in our suitcases. You have to pack the essentials. 

We ate a lot of fruit that was in season; watermelons, guavas and I got to try a new one that the lady in the market called a sousous. It was delicious! We were able to eat in a restaurant near the grocery store and enjoy a Lebanese speciality called, a fatayer, which is a meat and onion filled pastry (actually, very yummy!) and some passionfruit ice cream. We opted out of the Obama ice cream flavor they had to offer. The Obama flavor was vanilla and coffee/chocolate mixed. Just one of the many quirky things that bring a smile to our face when we live overseas. :)

Sunday before lunch we drove to Guinea, with Brandon expertly entering each border office and procuring the proper paperwork and signatures from the officials, all while managing to keep the officials laughing with his sense of humor. It’s still up for debate whether he’s funnier in French or in English! 

Stay tuned to find out how our first week in Guinea has gone....

-Hannah