So much to be thankful for!

 

 

Enough said, right? Our lives are so full. We have friends and family in the United States that we think about daily and love so much. We know that they are faithfully praying for us, providing for so many needs both financially and emotionally and laughing with us through this incredible journey we are on.  We have new family and friends here in Sierra Leone that love us, support us, and make fun of us when we can’t live up to African standards and generally make us feel like this is home. We are blessed beyond belief.

We spent Thanksgiving as a family. Of course, we were the only ones here celebrating, but we made a point to spend it in much the same way we would if we were home. (You know, for the kids, yeah right) If you saw my face book post, I am still bragging about my miraculous T-day feast. I cooked all day and pulled off a perfect imitation of festive goodness. Roasted Chicken (no turkeys around, boo), broccoli and cheese, beans, fried apples, stuffing, mashed potatoes, carrots and even some fudgy brownies were on the menu. The amazing portion, it was all on a large coal pot, called a wonder stove and a little on a gas cook top that you use like when we are camping. We decorated the house. Set out our best plates (which are also our everyday plates, well, they are the only plates in the house) which were beautiful, Heather Butler. We did good work! We gorged ourselves on yummy food and Skyped with our families and spent time making crafts with the girls. All in all, it was a good day.

Now, I would be lying if I said I had no mental breakdowns during the day. I love the holidays. I love being with our family. I love seeing aunts and uncles. I love cooking together and playing together. This year we missed decorating the tree at my dad’s. I missed attempting to defeat my father in law at a highly competitive, full of trash talk game of ping pong. (Don’t worry Don, I haven’t forgotten I owe you) We had conversations about what our families were doing at home and what we would be doing if we were there.

But then, we had conversations about how we love being at home. And we referred to Sierra Leone as home. We laughed and hung up our homemade decorations. (Only one tree this year, it’s crazy) We had visitors stop in just to wish us happy Thanksgiving because they had heard it was that holiday for us. We truly had a wonderful day. The happy and sad were there, but what holiday doesn’t have that?

Our blessings are so many. Our home is secure and perfect for our needs. Our friends are just what God knows we need. Our bellies are full and we are relatively healthy. We are watched over in ways we can’t know and allowed the trials that grow our faith. We are stretched and molded we are provided for and completely taken care of. How could we not be thankful?

We are most thankful for our little family. We constantly look at each other and wonder how on earth our children are turning out so well. I know, you now all feel obligated to tell us how awesome Michael and I are, but we go to bed with each other every night, we know better. There is nothing good in us to raise such amazing girls. We knew we would grow and change here and we would see changes in our kids, but frankly, we weren’t sure which way those changes would go! Never have we seen our kids blossom and grow than over the past couple of months.

A couple of months ago, our morning was flipped upside down. A desperate father, grandmother and village chief showed up at our front gate. We often get visits from people asking for help, so it didn’t seem that unusual at first. There was a terrible cholera outbreak here in Sierra Leone this year. Many people died and we were on high alert for some time. A young woman in a neighboring village had died three days prior due to this outbreak, leaving behind her husband, 2 year old daughter and 3 week old baby. The family brought the children to our gate hoping we could get them in touch with the right people who could help care for the children. Through conversation we discovered the baby hadn’t eaten since her mother’s death 3 days earlier and the 2 year old was suffering from malnourishment as well. Children here with orange hair are a common occurrence, I’m afraid, but it is one of the first signs of being underfed. We decided to take the children in for a few days until a social worker could come to do an intake.

I am going to pause this story to explain some things. We Americans often have these preconceived ideas of what love looks like and what a parent will do if they love their kids. I know, I have had these same thoughts. First, the average income here, around $1.25 a day. This is average. Meaning the population that brings in nothing most days is huge. This is a country of haves and have-nots. Not everyone has a little. Countless people bring home no money for weeks. They eat what they grow or trap or hunt. This is how they survive. The nearest “town” to us is a one hour drive and we are the only people in town with a car. The town has no factories, maybe 10 businesses, no industry. There are no jobs. NONE! So, those thoughts that you may have went to about what that father should have done, stop it. This man farms. He makes something called gari, which is incredibly hard work and occasionally he can sell some, when other people in his village find a way to get money. The man had no access to formula he had no access to better foods. He was doing all that he could do to provide for his family all while grieving bitterly over the loss of his wife. His love and compassion for his children astounds and amazes me. This father’s care for these two girls is stronger than I can understand. This is Sierra Leone. Strong, fiercely loyal, caring, compassionate, loving people, who work tirelessly to provide for and care for the basic needs of themselves and their families. My bare bones American budget, please, I don’t know poverty. It can’t be described until you look through the eyes of a hungry father at his hungry children.

Back to the story, through a turn of events, the children’s few days with us has turned into the last 2 months. Which, another rabbit to chase, if you will, if you aren’t sponsoring a child, shame on you. There are so many kids who need so much. Not new Christmas gifts or movie day, but food enough for at least one meal. Find an organization and sponsor a child, NOW, go!! I have a favorite, check out therainingseason.org. I love those kids and the way the founders and staff care for them. Back again, during this time God has made one thing blaringly obvious. These two girls are Ropiecki children, through and through. We love them. We need them. We have no doubts. This is crazy, right? We live in three rooms. NOT three bedrooms, three rooms. Our toilet is outside, our kitchen is outdoors we don’t own a tv!! Do you know how little it takes to take care for a baby? I have no baby seat, high chari, bumbo, swing, pacifier, diaper wipe warmer, crib or mobile. But she is happy and healthy. Ever potty trained a baby that has grown up in the bush and doesn’t speak English? She takes dumps in our yard on a regular basis. Sometimes the front steps and she spends a lot of time naked running around yelling Mende at us. But honestly, how many times have my kids behaved similarly? (Holly Lanius, if you read this, remember the incident with Ella in your front yard?) We are so excited to have them here. It is such an adventure and joy. When the two year old started calling Michael “daddy”, I thought I would never get him off of cloud nine. And when I pick up the now almost 3 month old and she gives me the big grin with those cute dimple flashes my heart is full. Aubrey, Anna and Ella have once again proved themselves the perfect children, when they came to us and said you aren’t really going to send them to an orphanage are you? They love us and we love them. They argue and bug each other, they giggle at night instead of sleeping and they all love each other.

So, it is with so much giddiness that we introduce Hawa and Maggie. They are amazing beautiful girls that we didn’t plan but God once again knew we needed. We have a long road ahead because adoption isn’t an easy thing here and there is a different route we will have to take, but we are confident this is our path. We can’t wait for you to meet them!

 

 

 

A rotten day

I usually try to keep my posts upbeat and positive. I don’t really know why. Maybe it’s because I don’t want my family to freak out over all that goes on here. Or maybe I don’t want to freak myself out by putting into words all that I experience. But this isn’t going to be a blog that leaves you happy or that makes you think wow, they are adjusting well. This is a blog about death, sin and sadness. It’s about poverty and hurt, pain that most of us will never know. It’s a picture of what I see so often, but don’t put into words. It is Sierra Leone.

3 weeks ago, I met for the first time a 13 year old girl on the front porch of her mud hut. This child had a younger sister about 8 and they were being cared for by their 18 year old brother because they had lost both of their parents several years ago. A child raising children…..

This, however, was not what brought me to their front porch. I went to the village to administer first aid to a few of the villagers. Nothing complex….boils, cuts and infected scrapes, simple infections and colds. And then I saw her. She was sitting on the porch maybe weighing in at 65 or 70 pounds. She was pale and obviously in pain. Michael had seen her the day before and wanted me to take a look. I stepped onto the porch and had to turn my head. I am not a person with a weak stomach. I have squeezed maggots out of a man’s arm…..I’m unflappable. But the smell coming from this small girl wasn’t anything I have encountered before. Then I moved the cloth from her stomach. Green bile was seeping from a gaping hole in her belly button. I was at a loss. Michael and I both were stunned. I patched her up and we began forming a plan for what we thought the girl needed. It took time (most things here do) but we drove her to the local clinic to see the Community Health Official……where she was promptly turned away and told there was no treatment. Michael drove to Moyamba, one hour away. They refused to take her in the hospital. After a few hours, he was finally informed there was an ambulance that could take her to Freetown for free treatment. Wahoo!! We were so happy and excited.

We got a call the next day from her brother that she was in Bo (a city 6 or so hours from Freetown, in the opposite direction from Bauya) and they needed money for a blood transfusion. Our kids have been dealing with a skin issue, nothing major, but we decided to have it looked at and went to Bo to help. Only to get there and find out the doctor who does the surgeries left the country because he was nervous about election time. There are 88 doctors in this country. That day there was at least one less. Never have I wanted 88 doctors like we did that day. This little girl was then put on a bus and shipped to Freetown to be turned away, yet again at another hospital. Another bus took them north to a hospital that promised results. All of this took place while she continued to ooze bile, her intestines were basically hanging out and she was so thin…..there aren’t words to describe this.

We got word that the little girl died. The hospital kept putting the surgery off because they wanted more money. MORE MONEY! What is the price of this little girl’s life? Somewhere around $100. She will not return to her small sister who cried and wailed when her sister was taken from her. Yet one more person has left this tiny girl’s life. This brother buried another family member, he put her to rest several hours north in an unmarked grave. The numbers have faces! The children are alone and dying. Who stands for them?

We decided a few months ago to hire full time security at our compound. We now have a day guard and night guard on duty 24/7. I know you are imagining guys walking around with clubs looking tough. Trust me they are tough, but we love them!

It is hot in Sierra Leone. Check a map, 8 degrees above the equator, makes for a hot sticky place. Seeing that electricity is not an option, you can bet that air conditioning is also not on the list of things we have. Instead, outside has become an extension of our home. It is where our classroom is. It is the kitchen we hang out in. It is the playroom where my kids romp around and play. Consequently, we spend a lot of time with our guards. They have become like family. They greet us at shift time. They check to see how we are. We’ve met their families. They play soccer with my kids. I take them food when we have leftovers. They call me Mommy Rachel (yes, this freaked me out at first. I would have been like 12 to have some of these be my children) But the name has grown on me and we truly love them.

At 7:15 this morning, a text came over Michael’s phone. I picked it up, still groggy to read a message from Patrick our guard. While he was on duty this morning, his 9 month old son died. This boy was at my gate last night. His mother came to me for medicine. I gave what I had not realizing the boy was so sick. He was smiling and giggling, although I could tell he wasn’t feeling well. This morning the smiling stopped. My heart hurts. This baby’s life just started….

I know the kind words that you are thinking, I know you want to lift us up. But frankly, it’s not about us. Looking at this young mother crying and putting her baby in a hole where dirt is tossed on his face….how do we lift that mother up?

In this area, most firstborns are not buried. Why, you ask? Because it is so common for children to die that they just go to the dust bin. This is not a culture that doesn’t love and care for their kids, but a culture who would be crushed under the weight of their loss. A world where grieving is a full time job if you let it be. A community that sees heartbreak as a way of life. Oh Jesus, be the light here.

I read a quote recently, that I will butcher, but it said something like poverty isn’t being without things it’s being without options. It’s true. There were no options for the little girl being sent from hospital to hospital looking for someone, anyone, to help. That mother had nowhere to go. After seeing the local doctor and getting the meds there was nowhere for a second opinion. There is no, I will pick up an extra shift to earn money for a really good doctor. No, I don’t like what that doctor said, I will go somewhere else. I didn’t understand poor until I saw people dying from it.

This post has a few purposes. One, I just need to vent. I won’t lie, I miss first world problems. Starbucks only serves caramel apple spices a few times a year. Target only has the shoes I want in a 7 ½. I have wanted several times to pack my bags, live in comfort and AC near my friends and family and chalk this up to a strange little time that I learned from. I am confident these pictures could fade if I can just get far enough away. But that is not where I am. And I want to get it off my chest!

It is also an honest picture of what we see. You need to know. This “adventure” we are on is ugly. It’s hard. It’s so full of sad some days I feel swallowed by it. I have been spared some of this tragedy only because I was born a few thousand miles west. A small ocean is all that has separated me from this hurt and loss. How have I lived so blind?

Now, that’s all said. Do know that we have also experienced joy and happiness like you can’t imagine. We have seen love displayed in incredible ways and God has displayed his majesty in ways I can’t describe. “Momma’s in a dark place” tonight, but I know tomorrow will bring the sunrise and a project that will hopefully save some of these lives from a similar fate of the children whose stories I shared. You know that story about the starfish littering the beach and the guy is picking them up one by one and throwing them back in the sea but there are like a million more all around. Someone says hey dude, you’ll never make a difference here and Mr. throw the starfish back says, “ I just made a difference to that one” as he throws another in. Have you heard it? Our beach is so full right now it can be hard to see the difference. But it’s there, I know.

Pray for these children. Pray for these parents. Pray for the leaders and the doctors. Pray for a divine difference.

 

Broom vs. medicine and medievil mayhem

I’m sorry for the silence. I can’t even try to explain how insane our lives have been the past few weeks. You wouldn’t believe me if I tried!

We have had some extreme joys and some extreme heartbreak. We pressed those in sickness and in health vows. We also had the privilege of sharing the country we love with people we love from good ‘ol TN. Between all of that, the rain and a few days of copious amounts of bathroom usage, we officially move to Bauya. (No it wasn’t cholera)

It is like no other place I have ever been. We were prepared by everyone to feel a bit isolated and lonely here in SL. Bauya did not get the notice! We have the cool kid’s house and everyone comes to hang out! EVERYONE!!

So many people have asked “what is a typical day for you?” Ha…..ha, ha, ha. Typical? Well, let’s see. Some mornings we are awoken by the town crier. (No joke, that’s his job. Hence the medieval title reference) Of course, he makes his announcements in Mende and we are pretty limited there. So it is our hope that he doesn’t warn us of some horrific impending doom. We then lay in bed, in the semi-dark, wondering if we can put off heading out to the toilet just 5 more minutes because once we are spotted it’s all over!

Eventually, the urge overcomes. I get fully clothed and head out to the outhouse. Now, we do have the deluxe model of outhouses, so don’t spend too much time lamenting our plight. It is complete with toilet and septic tank. No running water, but the jug we keep in there keeps everything……not bad.

When I open the back door to exit the house and make my way to the backyard, I often encounter various types of game that have been trapped that morning and can be mine for dinner that night. Freetown Bo (a tiny cute deer, very sad to see, very tasty to eat!), ground pig (a giant rat, complete with tail), and monkey (really no explanation needed) are a few that we have had waiting for our approval. I have been perfecting my, “Oh it’s just a regular old dead animal on my back porch” face. If you have spent more than 5 minutes with me you can understand how difficult this is for me. Said meat is then skinned and butchered and displayed on a banana leaf in my backyard for me. Ahhhh, dinner is underway!

Then, somehow, I have been confused for a doctor. It was a dream until I realized how much chemistry was involved and then my major was promptly changed to a degree that would require no lab time! I treat wounds, hand out dewormer and some general antibiotics when necessary. While all this happens, Michael is checking on the worksite, dealing with the carpenter (all of our things are in the floor of our house, 6 mos. of suitcase living is causing me to twitch), hearing people’s cases for why they should be employed and trying desperately to down that ever precious cup of coffee.

Now, it is 9 AM and I still haven’t used the bathroom!

Impromptu visits from the chief and other officials are quite common and this requires a costume change and cold cokes. We do have a freezer! Woot, Woot! We occasionally run our generator in the evening and it cools it down nicely. There are some beautiful women who have been helping with cooking and various other domestic chores that I try to accomplish between all the visitors each day. So we collectively try to catch up on laundry and cook a meal while the kids play with all the children that frequent our yard. (Don’t tell them, but school starts for our girls this week so their days of play are numbered.)

I am explaining things to them like the gas stove, why I wash my hands so much and how it is better to use a can opener than the giant knife for the tomato paste. All while they laugh and tease me for my inability to wring clothes, wash rice and sweep. Apparently, I’ve had a lot wrong for a long time!

At some point, Michael finds his way home and we eat while 50 of our friends watch. Our girls have made a theme song and phrase to our adventures. The first, “I always feel like, somebody’s watching me!” The other is Aubrey waving and under her breath to Anna saying, “Smile and wave boys, smile and wave!”

We often walk up to Chieftown at night. That’s the classy section of town. All the men engage in a game of football (soccer), while the kids play and ladies talk. Then back home, where, inevitably, there is another crowd. Eventually, our neighbor comes over and tells everyone to go home. Prayer time and falling into bed are all we can manage at that point! Whew, that day is done!

We love the village and the people. (Not to be confused with the village people. Although my hips can’t help but shake at some YMCA) We even love our little home. And it feels just like that, home. Our lives will change, the new will wear off and we will find our routine, but until then we are enjoying the chaos!

We will continue to choose meat, hold babies, doctor wounds and love on the people we meet there. Eventually, we will learn Mende, starting with learning to pronounce broom and not actually asking for medication.

Much love from Bauya!!

 

The father of all mix ups

I gave myself a fabulous pep talk before I left the US on how I was going to blog weekly. These blogs would be insightful, moving, pee your pants funny and heartwarming to all our friends and family or at least the 5 or 6 who read it! But alas, I have failed. I have had many funny moments and lots of moving, but to blog about these makes me think I may lose those handful if I’m not careful!

Today was a day of shopping for household items. I was able to bring along my faithful sidekick, Haley, and we pushed, pulled and bartered our way through the big market downtown. A few things about shopping here; there is no stopping to peruse. If you stop, you will be mobbed and before you know it you will be wearing a new dress and hat and walking away with some gari, which, if you are like me, you have no idea how to cook. So window shopping is to be done quickly and with minimum eye contact. Also, a fun question I have learned to ask, after they tell you an outrageous price, I like to say “That is a nice white price. Now what is the real price?” This usually makes them laugh and I have found ends in my negotiated price being even lower than I would have thought. (albeit higher than a nationals) But today, however, we ended up with a guide to help us. She was awesome. Someone would tells us a price, she would cluck and whisper under her breath what I should pay! Iesha is the bomb diggity! I walked out of that market feeling like a victor….a tired, smelly, sweaty, dirt covered victor! And now I have a can opener for my cans of tuna. I can put away that large butcher knife and keep all my fingers in tact! Good day.

I also took the three girls to the big market downtown. If you didn’t know, we successfully celebrated a Ropiecki birthday here in SL. Anna is 9! She had some birthday cash that was burning a whole in her pocket. We also lost a tooth in Africa (aubrey’s) and there was the fish eyeball eating dare that took place where Aubrey also made bank! (I have video, it’s awesome) So we had to go do a little retail therapy with the ladies. I also thought it was a good time to teach my girls a little haggling. Michael is not good at this. Although, with his love for not spending money, one would think this would be right up his alley. Neigh, neigh, he has other gifts. (he’s pretty) Anyway, Anna was the bomb, and we found some really great guys who were all about helping the girls out. It was so wonderful for me to see that. It can sometimes feel like everyone looks at you and hears ca-ching. (clearly they aren’t listening to us) But to see these men stoop down to talk on my kids level and actually tell them “No, that’s too much.” I wanted to hug some of those big ol’ guys. Most importantly my girls had the time of their lives! We met some really great people and I got a couple of really good laughs.

We stopped at one stall because Anna really wanted a dress. The owner of the stall was a really nice lady that I enjoyed talking to. She was asking about my children. Another woman beside her was sort of listening in on our conversation. I was asked to point out my kids. I pointed at Anna, then Aubrey and Ella was a bit further down with Michael. I pointed at her and the woman listening in, said “that is your daughter.” In the US I totally play this off and just assume people will figure this out. This does not fly here! The woman looked at Ella and said “This man is the father?” I reply “Of course.” Then I saw her face! She was utterly amazed that Michael and I could make a black baby! It was fantastic! Then Haley says, “uh, well.” I quickly add in, “it was adoption!” The shop owner laughed and said “I knew, but you might want to explain that to other people you tell!” I have laughed about this all day!!! It was epic!

I am happy to report that we will soon be in Bauya! Our house is almost completely finished and we are ready! The container will also be released soon! I am almost giddy with the thought of sleeping on my comfy mattress again. We are ready to put down our roots and put out the welcome mats! Just a few more days, then the quiet life. Ahhhhhh…….

Life as we know it.....

I just keep waiting……..I’ve been looking for some great revelation, some magical God breathed words of wisdom. I’m waiting and waiting. Today as I was riding, in a cramped taxi with my kids and husband to do something totally ordinary like go to the market and pharmacy, I realized I was waiting. I’ve been waiting for my life here to start. We are a little on hold since our house isn’t complete and the container with our stuff isn’t available to us. So, I’ve been waiting. Then I took a good look around. The sights, sounds and smells around as I rode with the windows down in the rain, were ordinary to me. I was looking at kids playing on the streets. I didn’t notice the trash. I was watching an older man tease his grandchild; I didn’t pay attention to her clothes with the holes in them, just laughed at his joke.  I simply shook my head in a way that told the woman with packages of tang that I wasn’t interested and she walked off, instead of apologizing and wondering if she needs me to buy that. With confidence, I found the store I was wanting to go to and even took the lead when Michael had no idea where to go. I told my children to “come” when we got out of the taxi. I didn’t freak when they went an isle over or stopped to look at something. I walked into the store and told everyone exactly what I needed and they totally brought it. I even know the guy to look for when we decided to buy bread on the street. These things that are now very ordinary to me were something that I couldn’t have imagined only 2 weeks ago. I noticed the trash, I smelled the fires and rot of sewage, I was completely freaked out by the honking of the cars and apologized profusely when approached by a vendor, but now it’s life.  While waiting for God to give me the go ahead to live life here, I started. Granted, that will change as soon as we are in Bauya, but for now, we live here. I LIVE here. This is home.  It frustrates me that I so easily look to him and say, “ok now do your work.” And he’s already done it. He’s created me for such a time as this. He has to shake his head and refer to me as his dumb child so often. I’m so slow sometimes.

Ella has also caught on to living life. One day last week we were riding down the road. She was “middle shotgun” her favorite place to ride, right between her daddy and Uncle Sainy. While sitting in traffic on the way back from Bauya, Ella announced to us she was hungry. (If you have spent any time with my daughter you understand this happens every 10 minutes or so) She then saw a man on the side of the road selling popcorn. Uncle Sainy spoke up and told the man to come. He of course came to the window and we bought some popcorn. I watched Ella as this transaction took place. It was like a very bright light bulb went off in the child’s head. She turns around and yells “momma, I can get food in the car anytime I want. I just hold out my hand like this and say come!” OH NO! Today, as I apologized the third time to a vendor for coming to our car because the 5 year old yelled come, I realized a monster may have been created. She has found a way to get around waiting.

African-ish

So basically, my kids are the most awesome people I know. Their faith kicks my faiths butt. I have stepped on SL soil before. I have read a ridiculous amount of books and other research. I have talked with people here, got advice from friends and family, met with pastors and even went fake shopping at several markets. My kids, on the other hand, totally “pulled an Abraham”. (yes, you can use that) With blind faith they followed their parents to a place they have never been. On every plane they had to catch they delighted in the TV’s, the ability to lay back their own seats and the “amazing airplane food”. I watched their hearts hurt as they left family and friends but I was completely blown away when they bravely wiped their tears, smiled and said “I can’t wait to go to Africa.”

Before we took the kids into the center, I was a wreck. We all know Anna does not enjoy being touched and Ella tends to freeze and not speak. So I warned them all and gave them a safe word, then I could swoop in and rescue them. I just knew this would be crazy overwhelming. Then I stood back and watched my kids amaze me again! There were gobs of kids holding their hands, hugging them, asking their names and trying to braid their hair. I saw Aubrey light up when Betty grabbed her hand. Anna was, literally, knocked over by the love shown to her in the form of a bear hug by Isata. They were glowing! Even Ella found a few friends to play tag with. They can’t wait to see and do everything. What was I worried about again?

I look around and see all the change they are experiencing; their lives are not the same. Last week it was Phineas and Ferb and some string cheese, this week……we hear the mosque up the hill playing the call to prayer, the goats in the neighboring compound and let us not forget the former presidents peacocks (do you cook those the same as turkeys, cause seriously). They on the other hand, see so much fun and adventure; they are excited about visiting the kids for worship tonight and can’t wait to see what Auntie Marie makes for dinner tonight. Oh to be like my children.

Now, I’m sure you are wondering what crazy things my children have said and done. Well, there really are so many! The best so far, Ella came to us and said, “I really like the kids, but I wish they would quit speaking Spanish to me. Don’t they know I don’t speak Spanish?” Krio isn’t even on her radar! There is Anna and all her crazy faces she thinks she is making on the sly while trying new foods. Of course, we see the scowl! Then Aubrey announced that she wanted “American extensions”, cause they are related to continents, of course. So, when asked to give a quote-Aubrey: I often smell armpits. Anna: Africans are much louder than Americans. Ella: This place is a little freaky. All in all, stuff freaks them out a lot less than us.

Hopefully, there will be a few pics to come soon! Much love from SL!

A day In the Life

So far every day in Africa has held new adventures for me. I have yet to grow bored even while inching through Freetown traffic for hours. I would like to recount a recent day in my life. It was a Sunday and so I attended church at The Covering. Church is quite the experience with visitors from the community the kids and the staff there was something like 150 people packed into a medium size sitting room praising God and worshiping.  After church I left to drive a young lady to the Ferry that crosses over to Lungi Airport. We left with time to spare but were stopped by a traffic cop. This particular civil servant spent 15-20 minutes attempting to extort money from me. He was not successful but now there is just enough time to reach the ferry before it leaves so long as nothing slows traffic for the next 10 miles. So I made a mad dash through Freetown to the Government Warf and arrived just as the ferry was blowing it horn to leave. There was seconds to spare but we made it.

From there I decide I will drive to a local stretch of beach and read for a while as I wait out the rain.  When the rain slows I take a stroll down the beach where I get to participate in hauling in the fishing nets, play a pickup game of beach soccer, and run into one of the visitors to TRS Church. Sorri is a young man that I had met on previous trips who live a few miles from The Covering but comes to the church every Sunday. He introduced me to his family and proudly showed me the family fishing operation.  They have a wooden boat and large drag nets that they use to harvest fish. Local women buy these fish and then re-sell them at market or in the street.  I got a lesson in microeconomics.

I latter received a call from my American African friend “Santigie” Andrew Sisco asking if I could exchange a propane bottle for him. Andrew is a missionary who moonlights as a DJ at African nightclubs. Upon returning to the Sisco home I run into Morli a young boy who lives across the street. Morli invites me to the 20th anniversary party for the generous couple who care for him. There were a lot of people and a lot of food. Africans are big on ceremony so there were multiple speeches and multiple prayers before we ate. There was even a ceremony of libation where a drink is poured on the floor to honor the dead. I ate many new foods to include fish balls, what I think was the male reproductive glands of a goat.  

I can’t wait to see what tomorrow will bring.