How often Dad and I reflect on how fortunate we are as parents! Especially when we hear some people who have little family connection, either because of apathy or quarrels. God has blessed our family in this respect - we all enjoy, love and accept each other. What a blessing that is, especially in today's society, which is so full of anger, divorce, misunderstandings and apathy in many families. We all do whatever we can to stay in contact with each other - through emails, phone calls, visits. That is easier than it was when you were all growing up. As I remember each of your lives to the present, I thank God for each one of you and the strong men and women you have become in spite of separations and distance from each other. How good God is!
CHERYL
You were the most precocious baby, Cheryl, you did everything early, sat up, walked, talked, ate solid food. You were such a sociable baby, smiled at everyone. Of course, our home was full of people - young and old - because we were in church planting. And you readily went to all of them and you got lots of love from everyone, us included!
You walked early, you talked early - and that was a good thing, as you had your baby sister coming right along behind you, born on your first birthday! You could not come into the hospital as it was against the rules, but Dad found a place where you could come and see me, looking up to my second floor room. I can still see you standing there looking up. And you loved your little sister when she came home to live with us.
I have already written much about your childhood, both in Rutland and Santidougou. You attended a variety of schools: kindergarten at home with me, Mamou, Nyack grade school, ICA, a year of French school at Collège de l'Avenir in Bobo, Nyack high school (where you graduated), Nyack College and ATS. And Now your latest education fling is getting a master's. Good for you!
We always prayed for each of you kids that God would provide the right mate for you in life. And how wonderfully He answered this prayer. We could never have chosen better than God chose for each one of you. I remember when you were in ATS and we were in Africa. You were studying the field of Burkina Faso as your study focus, thinking to go there as a missionary. I remember getting a letter from you, telling of your going out with another student on a date. I knew this young man from attending classes there, a great guy, but also divorced. Through no fault of his own, but still divorced. And we prayed then that God would guide you and not let you get involved with someone who would change the goal of your life.
There was also a young man, Darrell, whom Dad had had in class at Nyack College the year before when we were Missionaries in Residence at the College. He was engaged to a girl ( a student) from his hometown and she was also in Dad's missions class. He came home one day and told me, "There is a guy in my class who would make a great missionary, but he will never make it - he is marrying the wrong girl! She will keep him from being a missionary, which is too bad." Darrell went on to ATS and the girl went back to her hometown to live. Somewhere in there Darrell and the girl broke off their engagement and pretty soon we heard that you were no longer studying Burkina, but had changed to Lebanon - and you and Darrell were dating. Wow! What a switch, and were we ever happy! And the rest is history.
You were married in Simpson Church and we were there for the wedding, a beautiful occasion. You went on to home service in south Jersey, and it was there that you went through the trauma of the birth of a little girl, who was too small to make it. That was a hard situation for you both. But you persevered, went through the remainder of home service (Dad was there for Darrell's ordination to give the charge) and we saw you off for Beirut.
During that year Beirut disintegrated into all out war. You were pregnant with Nathan, Cheryl, and we were on furlough. What a hard time to live through. Dad and I were on separate tours when you went into the Beirut hospital to give birth. He was not born quickly and the war was heating up as everyone was praying for the safe delivery of the "Phenicie baby". I remember the day that all contact was cut off with Beirut and I was on tour and scheduled to speak that night. My tour partner took my place as he realized how upsetting that situation was - all TV contact had been broken as well. LL King was president of the Alliance and had been on a tour but wanted to be kept up to date on the progress of the Phenicie birth. Someone met him at the plane with the news, "The Phenicie baby is born!" And we all rejoiced that Nathan had come to be part of our family. What a trying time for you and Darrell to go through.
When we visited you a few years later, you took us to J'Bael and we saw the bunker where you had to go at times because of the bombing. We saw the port from which you had to flee to the US, you and Rachel first and then Darrell with the boys. Wow - not many missionaries have had to go through all of that. But you did - and you stuck with it. And God has given you a wonderful ministry in the Middle East and now Africa.
It has always been fun to visit you in the Middle East, and each trip has enlarged our vision of the church. We visited you in Beirut itself. It was fun to go on picnics with you and the church people (a favorite thing to do in the Middle East - picnics). We went to your church and worshipped in Arabic. We met many people you worked with. You took us on such great tourist type trips and we loved it all. We have gotten a real love for the people of the Middle East through you.
You took us on trips - we went to Damascus and through Syria. Down into Jordan and Amman. We met so many of the pastors and their families as well as other personal friends of yours. Going to Jordan and down along the Dead Sea to Aqaba was a fun trip - all of us crammed into that small car of yours! Darrell gets an A+ for being a great packer! We swam in the Red Sea and visited the city where you would later serve. So many wonderful memories you have given us. Including waiting for camels to cross the road and those awful turkish toilets at the Syrian-Jordanian border! And the visit on Christmas Eve to your friends who lived in a beautiful apartment overlooking the city of Beirut. We drove back to your place south of Beirut through the gorgeous Christmas lights in the middle of Beirut.
I will never forget the year you, Cheryl, had to make an emergency trip back to the States for surgery. Rachel was just a toddler so she had to come with you. We lived in Shell Point that year of furlough and so you came there. We got the word of that evacuation while we were in Seattle for Council. Actually, I was speaking that night in the evening missions slot. With all the bad news pouring in, I had to go to a hotel lobby and get quiet to concentrate on my message and let Dad take care of the incoming calls! Dave Moore, missions vice-president, was following your every move through Dad and your phone calls. You came to Ft. Myers and stayed with us at Shell Point where we were living.
You had your (successful) operation in Ft. Myers, and Darrell and the boys joined us all there. They also escaped in an open boat, dodging bullets to get out of that harbor.
What a life you have had!
Our two weeks in Kurdistan we had with you recently were wonderful! You planned such a great time for our team, we still talk about it. We loved meeting your Kurdish friends. Who could forget the fun picnic we had and the conversations - and dancing - we shared with that Kurdish family! We appreciated everything you plammed for our time there - and a highlight was the week teaching the Iraqi pastors.
You have given us three wonderful grandchildren. When they were small, we had to have an interpreter as they only spoke Arabic! But theyhave all become great adults, of whom we are very proud. Along with Rachel's great husband, Josh. It was such fun to be together last fall in Nyack, when you were highly honored, Cheryl, by having the new school of nursing at the College named after you: The Cheryl Phenicie School of Nursing. That was a special week - and day - for all our family who could attend.
Now God has taken you to a new ministry. Who would ever have thought that all three of you girls and spouses would be working on the African continent! Maybe we can even visit you there in your new country some day!
Cheryl and Darrell Phenicie - we salute you, the dynamic duo!!
Tuesday, April 5, 2011
Saturday, April 2, 2011
Friends and neighbors...................................
During the years at Santidougou we had many friends, almost all Bobos. With the exception of a few familes of other tribes who lived near our village. There was the family of the gendarme, whose son was a deaf mute. He was a good friend of yours, John, I think mainly because he had a donkey and how the two of you loved to ride that donkey together!
It was from their family that I first learned about the importance of African funerals. One day I saw my friend, Lydia, from the village walk by the door - it was the middle of the week and she was all dressed up. So I asked where she was going and she told me that someone had died in the gendarme's family and she was going to greet for the funeral, so I asked if I could go with her. I quickly put on some shoes and accompanied her. The whole town of Santidougou and many other people filled the large yard. I asked Lydia why she hadn't invited me to go to the funeral and her answer was, "We always thought white people were not interested in our funerals as no one ever attended!" A good cultural lesson for me and from then on we always attended the funeral proceedings (sometime for days) after that. When we got back from our greetings, I told Dad that he should go also and so he dressed appropriately and went to greet, which was greatly appreciated. From that time on, whenever someone died in the area, someone always came and announced it to us also!
Some of the young Muslim men from the village interacted with Dad about Christianity and some were converted. Dad had an evening Bible study for them - among them Théophile who later became one of our translators working with me on the translation of the Bobo Bible. His father died a Muslim but his old mother came to Christ and if she is still living faithfully attends the church there.
The Christian families (which were few when we arrived) were also our friends. We visited back and forth. The women of the church were friends and soon after our arrived I invited them all to a meal at our house. They arrived, dressed in their finest. I knew they did not have much meat in their diet and so I had Yusufu make hamburgers and buns and french fries. We had a fun time talking and laughing, but after they had gone I realized that not one of them had done more than nibble a bit at their meat. They ate the fries and the buns, but left the meat! Another cultural lesson: they are only used to having bits of meat in a sauce and not a big hunk of ground meat like that! So whenever I had friends in for dinner after that, I always had rice or couscous and sauce and they ate heartily!
Dad also made good friends of the Muslims, young and old, in town. And I made friends with their wives. In fact, I even helped to deliver their babies once in a while. And we ran them to the city hospital when needed. Many came and talked religion as well and eventually we saw a large contingent of the young men trust in Christ and come to church.
Another regular friend was Moktar - maybe some of you remember him. When he was sober he would come and have long conversations with us. But he was also a heavy drinker. When we lived in Bobo, he came to the house one day, drunk as could be! It was at noontime and everyone was at lunch in our house - the president of the US Alliance churches and our executive committee and Dad. They all got a big kick out of this Fula coming in like he belonged to us and emoted all over Dad! We of course had to converse with him in French or Jula, but we wanted him to hear the gospel so he would understand it. We had some Gospel Recordings records in his dialect of Fula and he would sit on our front porch and listen to those recordings by the hour. Who knows what he retained of the Gospel. To be Fula was to be Muslim and as far as we know he never changed.
When we moved to the city of Bobo we had more friends: local pastors, ex-pats working or living in the city, commercial people and of course many local city people of various ethnic groups. There was a lovely Malagas lady who was a dentist in town. She was also a Protestant and used to attend our French service at the downtown church. There was also an Austrian lady, not young anymore, who had married a very important iman in the city. She had a twelve year old son who went everywhere with her. We were just on speaking acquaintance with her. In one house we had some Dutch neighbors, lovely people. They also had a child. We exchanged meals and saw each other to chat on a regular basis. There were René and Stevie Braveman, who were in Bobo for a while on a study assignment. They also had two children and a few times you girls babysat for them. We were in Seattle some years ago and were able to contact them and went out to dinner together. Then Dad was there on tour and saw them again. And we hear occasionally from them on FB. Good friends.
We also had friends among the Lebanese in Bobo. The Saade family was there when we arrived and owned a grocery store in town. Their business expanded and they eventually owned the Auberge, where we went to eat in their restaurant and swim in their pool. They were always very friendly and you were friends with their son, John, - was it Michel? They had a pool at the Auberge and good food, so it was a favorite place for us missionaries to spend a pleasant evening.
Another Lebanese had a grocery store near the market where we shopped. They knew we had a daughter and family in Lebanon and we would chat about that sometimes. When you came to visit, Cheryl and Darrell, we were all invited to their home for dinner. Dinner started at nine pm and ended at twelve with strong Lebanese coffee. We also entertained them in our home.
When one lives overseas, one meets some strange characters sometimes, and such was Vandenberg. He said he was Belgian and he lived mostly in Dédougou and Tougan up country from us. But we also knew him well as he came to the mission in Bobo. He bought a VW van from one of our missionaries, which used to belong to us. This was a man who knew little of God and some of our missionary men spent hours talking with him. He loved eating in their homes and being friends with them and so also listened to their Gospel. Eventually he married a very lovely Fula lady (common law marriage). We had just finished conference in Bobo one day and in came Vandy, distressed because the battery was dead in his car and he could not get another one. One of our men, who knew him well (he thought) graciously gave him a battery he had and Vandy and wife pulled out of our mission yard. Dad made the remark, "That's the last we will see of him!" And sure enough it was true. He was a crook, hunted by the police, and they had heard he was associated with our mission so came down to question us. Nobody, to our knowledge, ever heard of him again. You win some and lose some!
There were also French women, with children, who had married Burkinabe men and were being mistreated by them or else they could not fit into the local culture. I spent some time listening to them and talking with them. Eventually, they made their way back to Europe and abandonned their Burkinabe husbands.
Our nearest neighbors were Pastor Thomas and his family, who came from Sangha in Mali and became first African pastor of the downtown Alliance church. They lived on the same compound as we did and Mark, you and their young son were inseparable buddies. They also had a teenage daughter. Female excision was practiced in their Dogon tribe in Mali, but Thomas would never permit this in his family. One day when he was out somewhere, his wife decided to go ahead and do the excision on their daughter. Someone came running to the house (Dad was not there) and called me to come quickly, that there was terrible trouble. When I went into the house they took me to the little washroom and showed me a little potty full of blood and clots that had come out of this child when her mother clumsily tried to excise her! I was horrified and knew we had to get her to the hospital. Thomas and Dad were not there, but Mary Kaye Pease was in town and she had a van in which we could put the girl, lying down. And we all tore off to the hospital! They were able to save her life, but just barely - we were all praying hard as the doctors worked on her. And the pastor was very unhappy when he got back. She was in the hospital several days before she was well enough to come home. What an experience that was to go through!
When we lived on the mission compound we also had the secretary who worked in the office - there were a number of these through the years. Betty Canberg Smith was a friend of ours and of you girls. She eventually came back to Toccoa and married and is now in our church here so we see her regularly. Kauffmans lived there also and what great friends they were - and are!
In Bobo I regularly used three languages besides English - Bobo, Jula and French. So that was a big change from the bush. My ministry also changed, as I was mission hostess and in charge of the motel we operated for our people. And eventually I got involved in a lot of other ministries in the city as well - more about that later.
It was from their family that I first learned about the importance of African funerals. One day I saw my friend, Lydia, from the village walk by the door - it was the middle of the week and she was all dressed up. So I asked where she was going and she told me that someone had died in the gendarme's family and she was going to greet for the funeral, so I asked if I could go with her. I quickly put on some shoes and accompanied her. The whole town of Santidougou and many other people filled the large yard. I asked Lydia why she hadn't invited me to go to the funeral and her answer was, "We always thought white people were not interested in our funerals as no one ever attended!" A good cultural lesson for me and from then on we always attended the funeral proceedings (sometime for days) after that. When we got back from our greetings, I told Dad that he should go also and so he dressed appropriately and went to greet, which was greatly appreciated. From that time on, whenever someone died in the area, someone always came and announced it to us also!
Some of the young Muslim men from the village interacted with Dad about Christianity and some were converted. Dad had an evening Bible study for them - among them Théophile who later became one of our translators working with me on the translation of the Bobo Bible. His father died a Muslim but his old mother came to Christ and if she is still living faithfully attends the church there.
The Christian families (which were few when we arrived) were also our friends. We visited back and forth. The women of the church were friends and soon after our arrived I invited them all to a meal at our house. They arrived, dressed in their finest. I knew they did not have much meat in their diet and so I had Yusufu make hamburgers and buns and french fries. We had a fun time talking and laughing, but after they had gone I realized that not one of them had done more than nibble a bit at their meat. They ate the fries and the buns, but left the meat! Another cultural lesson: they are only used to having bits of meat in a sauce and not a big hunk of ground meat like that! So whenever I had friends in for dinner after that, I always had rice or couscous and sauce and they ate heartily!
Dad also made good friends of the Muslims, young and old, in town. And I made friends with their wives. In fact, I even helped to deliver their babies once in a while. And we ran them to the city hospital when needed. Many came and talked religion as well and eventually we saw a large contingent of the young men trust in Christ and come to church.
Another regular friend was Moktar - maybe some of you remember him. When he was sober he would come and have long conversations with us. But he was also a heavy drinker. When we lived in Bobo, he came to the house one day, drunk as could be! It was at noontime and everyone was at lunch in our house - the president of the US Alliance churches and our executive committee and Dad. They all got a big kick out of this Fula coming in like he belonged to us and emoted all over Dad! We of course had to converse with him in French or Jula, but we wanted him to hear the gospel so he would understand it. We had some Gospel Recordings records in his dialect of Fula and he would sit on our front porch and listen to those recordings by the hour. Who knows what he retained of the Gospel. To be Fula was to be Muslim and as far as we know he never changed.
When we moved to the city of Bobo we had more friends: local pastors, ex-pats working or living in the city, commercial people and of course many local city people of various ethnic groups. There was a lovely Malagas lady who was a dentist in town. She was also a Protestant and used to attend our French service at the downtown church. There was also an Austrian lady, not young anymore, who had married a very important iman in the city. She had a twelve year old son who went everywhere with her. We were just on speaking acquaintance with her. In one house we had some Dutch neighbors, lovely people. They also had a child. We exchanged meals and saw each other to chat on a regular basis. There were René and Stevie Braveman, who were in Bobo for a while on a study assignment. They also had two children and a few times you girls babysat for them. We were in Seattle some years ago and were able to contact them and went out to dinner together. Then Dad was there on tour and saw them again. And we hear occasionally from them on FB. Good friends.
We also had friends among the Lebanese in Bobo. The Saade family was there when we arrived and owned a grocery store in town. Their business expanded and they eventually owned the Auberge, where we went to eat in their restaurant and swim in their pool. They were always very friendly and you were friends with their son, John, - was it Michel? They had a pool at the Auberge and good food, so it was a favorite place for us missionaries to spend a pleasant evening.
Another Lebanese had a grocery store near the market where we shopped. They knew we had a daughter and family in Lebanon and we would chat about that sometimes. When you came to visit, Cheryl and Darrell, we were all invited to their home for dinner. Dinner started at nine pm and ended at twelve with strong Lebanese coffee. We also entertained them in our home.
When one lives overseas, one meets some strange characters sometimes, and such was Vandenberg. He said he was Belgian and he lived mostly in Dédougou and Tougan up country from us. But we also knew him well as he came to the mission in Bobo. He bought a VW van from one of our missionaries, which used to belong to us. This was a man who knew little of God and some of our missionary men spent hours talking with him. He loved eating in their homes and being friends with them and so also listened to their Gospel. Eventually he married a very lovely Fula lady (common law marriage). We had just finished conference in Bobo one day and in came Vandy, distressed because the battery was dead in his car and he could not get another one. One of our men, who knew him well (he thought) graciously gave him a battery he had and Vandy and wife pulled out of our mission yard. Dad made the remark, "That's the last we will see of him!" And sure enough it was true. He was a crook, hunted by the police, and they had heard he was associated with our mission so came down to question us. Nobody, to our knowledge, ever heard of him again. You win some and lose some!
There were also French women, with children, who had married Burkinabe men and were being mistreated by them or else they could not fit into the local culture. I spent some time listening to them and talking with them. Eventually, they made their way back to Europe and abandonned their Burkinabe husbands.
Our nearest neighbors were Pastor Thomas and his family, who came from Sangha in Mali and became first African pastor of the downtown Alliance church. They lived on the same compound as we did and Mark, you and their young son were inseparable buddies. They also had a teenage daughter. Female excision was practiced in their Dogon tribe in Mali, but Thomas would never permit this in his family. One day when he was out somewhere, his wife decided to go ahead and do the excision on their daughter. Someone came running to the house (Dad was not there) and called me to come quickly, that there was terrible trouble. When I went into the house they took me to the little washroom and showed me a little potty full of blood and clots that had come out of this child when her mother clumsily tried to excise her! I was horrified and knew we had to get her to the hospital. Thomas and Dad were not there, but Mary Kaye Pease was in town and she had a van in which we could put the girl, lying down. And we all tore off to the hospital! They were able to save her life, but just barely - we were all praying hard as the doctors worked on her. And the pastor was very unhappy when he got back. She was in the hospital several days before she was well enough to come home. What an experience that was to go through!
When we lived on the mission compound we also had the secretary who worked in the office - there were a number of these through the years. Betty Canberg Smith was a friend of ours and of you girls. She eventually came back to Toccoa and married and is now in our church here so we see her regularly. Kauffmans lived there also and what great friends they were - and are!
In Bobo I regularly used three languages besides English - Bobo, Jula and French. So that was a big change from the bush. My ministry also changed, as I was mission hostess and in charge of the motel we operated for our people. And eventually I got involved in a lot of other ministries in the city as well - more about that later.
Thursday, March 31, 2011
More homes in Bobo.......................
During those years we lived in the city, it was important we live in close proximity to Maranathe Institute since I was a professor there; Dad also taught a couple classes, and Dad was involve in constructing many of the Institute buildings. Because we lived in rented houses, we could never keep the same house more than a term, so we ended up living in three houses in the neighborhood of Maranatha.
There was one house right on the campus, and that was so handy for work for both of us - no driving. Of course, we always had an abundance of students in our homes when we lived near the Institute. We also helped to entertain visiting professors and visitors. It was in this home that we had the privilege of entertaining the Ivory Coast Alliance Church president, Joseph Koffi and his wife. They came for a few days and ended up staying longer as Pastor Koffi got very sick with a flu. We had a number of Ivoirien students at the school in those days, and our house became a Baoulé village, as they paraded in and out with food for their Papa and to pray for him. etc.
We remember one other event when we lived in that house - Dad especially remembers it. That was also the year I decided to teach an English class in a private/govenment school in town. That was an interesting experience. It was also the year of the big red dust storm - we never saw anything else like it in all our years in Africa and neither had the local population. Many people were frightened! It started during the night and I drove through the red dust down to my English class the next morning, only to find no one else was there that day. It was really eerie! The next day I was scheduled to drive over to Baramba in Mali to help train Malien pastors in TEE. Neysa Costa used to work with me in TEE and so she went with me. Everything was still red dust - you could only see a few feet ahead of you on the road. We had AC in the car so were able to keep the car closed up. It was really dangerous driving - everyone had their lights on and drove slowly. It left as quickly as it came, and no one really had any idea what it was except for a sandstorm which blew down from the Sahara. So our return trip - after several days of teaching in Mali - was normal.
But poor Dad was left with the house to cope with. That house on the campus had shutters, no glass windows and so all that fine red dust filtered through the house and settled on the floors and walls and furniture. Dad and Yusufu decided the only thing to do was to take every stick of furniture our of the house, turn a hose on inside and wash the ceilings and walls, windows, everything. Then wipe each piece of furniture and nicknachs and books, etc, wash curtains and put everything back in the house again. I came home to a very clean house and an exhausted Dad and Yusufu. We never ever saw a dust storm like that again!
Another term we lived about two blocks above Maranatha, and that was a roomy home, with a nice walled in yard. That was where we had our family reunion - I think it was at Christmas time that year. And it was Jennie's first visit to Bobo. She was such a sport to participate in everything - meeting all our friends and sometimes eating strange things and travelling crowded in our van. That was a fun time together and I always associate that time with that particular house. The Peter Colmans lived next door to us.
It was while we lived in that house that I also got hepatitus. I didn't feel well, but kept pushing myself in teaching and translation until I could not go any longer. The nurses diagnosed my illness as hepatitis and that is what it was! I was the most awful greenish yellow color - Steve said I looked like a horror movie! When Dad took me for blood work and they checked it, the male nurse came out wondering who this lady was, as my counts were so high. At first they had thought I had some other liver disease and Ruthie A. had packed a suitcase for me so I would be ready to be flown back to the States for treatment - which I certainly did NOT want! But the diagosis was a very bad case of hepatits and the cure was seven weeks lying down in bed flat, along with some medications. I obeyed the nurses and doctor and stayed down for seven weeks. I had every student from Maranatha and all our Bobo pastors visiting me and praying for me in several languages and bringing baskets of leaves from trees in the bush which the Africans boiled up and used for curing liver diseases. And I did get better and was soon back to a full schedule teaching. Not a fun time.
The last term on the field, living in Bobo, we lived in a comfortable home just a block from Maranatha, toward town. That house had a deep covered front porch which was great for entertaining people. During the African Cup games we took our TV out on the porch and had a crowd of students there, cheering for the teams as they watched! It had a couple bathrooms - handy for having company. That was the busiest term of all for me as we were working on the whole Bible in Bobo. Dad had the van for work in the bush and elsewhere and I had a nice little passenger car which I drove to the translation office every day to work with our two Bobo translators. (More about translation later.) Dad also had an orange Yamaha dame which he loved for running around town visiting people.
One Sunday morning he had gone to the bush for the day and I had been at church at Ouézzinville-Sud, and when I came home I found that someone had forced the door of the outbuilding and stolen the Yamaha. We never did find that bike, which Dad enjoyed so much. Lots of people suspected Daouda - but who knows. We had many thefts of our personal property during our years in Africa, which taught us to hold our property lightly - people are always more important than things! Jetty and Peggy wanted to replace the Yamaha for Dad but he thought it was too much money for such a short time, so they got him a smaller bike which he had to use. Jetty and Peggy were (and are!) such dear friends and lived not far from us in Bobo.
The other house we lived in in Burkina was a big house up in Ouagadougou, but I will write more on our year of living and ministry there at a later date. Wherever we lived, we moved our belongings with us, so we could have a new house looking like home again in a day. Now we have lived in one house for eleven years - the longest we ever lived anywhere with the exception of Santidougou.
There was one house right on the campus, and that was so handy for work for both of us - no driving. Of course, we always had an abundance of students in our homes when we lived near the Institute. We also helped to entertain visiting professors and visitors. It was in this home that we had the privilege of entertaining the Ivory Coast Alliance Church president, Joseph Koffi and his wife. They came for a few days and ended up staying longer as Pastor Koffi got very sick with a flu. We had a number of Ivoirien students at the school in those days, and our house became a Baoulé village, as they paraded in and out with food for their Papa and to pray for him. etc.
We remember one other event when we lived in that house - Dad especially remembers it. That was also the year I decided to teach an English class in a private/govenment school in town. That was an interesting experience. It was also the year of the big red dust storm - we never saw anything else like it in all our years in Africa and neither had the local population. Many people were frightened! It started during the night and I drove through the red dust down to my English class the next morning, only to find no one else was there that day. It was really eerie! The next day I was scheduled to drive over to Baramba in Mali to help train Malien pastors in TEE. Neysa Costa used to work with me in TEE and so she went with me. Everything was still red dust - you could only see a few feet ahead of you on the road. We had AC in the car so were able to keep the car closed up. It was really dangerous driving - everyone had their lights on and drove slowly. It left as quickly as it came, and no one really had any idea what it was except for a sandstorm which blew down from the Sahara. So our return trip - after several days of teaching in Mali - was normal.
But poor Dad was left with the house to cope with. That house on the campus had shutters, no glass windows and so all that fine red dust filtered through the house and settled on the floors and walls and furniture. Dad and Yusufu decided the only thing to do was to take every stick of furniture our of the house, turn a hose on inside and wash the ceilings and walls, windows, everything. Then wipe each piece of furniture and nicknachs and books, etc, wash curtains and put everything back in the house again. I came home to a very clean house and an exhausted Dad and Yusufu. We never ever saw a dust storm like that again!
Another term we lived about two blocks above Maranatha, and that was a roomy home, with a nice walled in yard. That was where we had our family reunion - I think it was at Christmas time that year. And it was Jennie's first visit to Bobo. She was such a sport to participate in everything - meeting all our friends and sometimes eating strange things and travelling crowded in our van. That was a fun time together and I always associate that time with that particular house. The Peter Colmans lived next door to us.
It was while we lived in that house that I also got hepatitus. I didn't feel well, but kept pushing myself in teaching and translation until I could not go any longer. The nurses diagnosed my illness as hepatitis and that is what it was! I was the most awful greenish yellow color - Steve said I looked like a horror movie! When Dad took me for blood work and they checked it, the male nurse came out wondering who this lady was, as my counts were so high. At first they had thought I had some other liver disease and Ruthie A. had packed a suitcase for me so I would be ready to be flown back to the States for treatment - which I certainly did NOT want! But the diagosis was a very bad case of hepatits and the cure was seven weeks lying down in bed flat, along with some medications. I obeyed the nurses and doctor and stayed down for seven weeks. I had every student from Maranatha and all our Bobo pastors visiting me and praying for me in several languages and bringing baskets of leaves from trees in the bush which the Africans boiled up and used for curing liver diseases. And I did get better and was soon back to a full schedule teaching. Not a fun time.
The last term on the field, living in Bobo, we lived in a comfortable home just a block from Maranatha, toward town. That house had a deep covered front porch which was great for entertaining people. During the African Cup games we took our TV out on the porch and had a crowd of students there, cheering for the teams as they watched! It had a couple bathrooms - handy for having company. That was the busiest term of all for me as we were working on the whole Bible in Bobo. Dad had the van for work in the bush and elsewhere and I had a nice little passenger car which I drove to the translation office every day to work with our two Bobo translators. (More about translation later.) Dad also had an orange Yamaha dame which he loved for running around town visiting people.
One Sunday morning he had gone to the bush for the day and I had been at church at Ouézzinville-Sud, and when I came home I found that someone had forced the door of the outbuilding and stolen the Yamaha. We never did find that bike, which Dad enjoyed so much. Lots of people suspected Daouda - but who knows. We had many thefts of our personal property during our years in Africa, which taught us to hold our property lightly - people are always more important than things! Jetty and Peggy wanted to replace the Yamaha for Dad but he thought it was too much money for such a short time, so they got him a smaller bike which he had to use. Jetty and Peggy were (and are!) such dear friends and lived not far from us in Bobo.
The other house we lived in in Burkina was a big house up in Ouagadougou, but I will write more on our year of living and ministry there at a later date. Wherever we lived, we moved our belongings with us, so we could have a new house looking like home again in a day. Now we have lived in one house for eleven years - the longest we ever lived anywhere with the exception of Santidougou.
Monday, March 28, 2011
MOVING TO THE CITY....................
We lived two terms in the village of Santidougou, and saw a lot of things started there. The girls' school, more pastors trained, the primary school and a beautiful dispensary built, the church expanding and maturing, the start of giving God's Word to our people in written form.
Uncle Dave and Aunt Margot joined us in Burkina. They were first of all assigned to Mali, but at conference that year their stationing was changed to Burkina and the city of Bobo, to do youth work. They developed a great work among the youth and also worked with US Youth Corps every year. For many years Uncle Dave was field director, so of course that kept them in Bobo also.
Uncle Jim and Aunt Donna also joined us in West Africa, and they were assigned to Mali and the Bwa people. We were all close enough together that we saw each other occasionally - at conference time and going to ICA and sometimes for vacations. We were very fortunate in having family near enough to visit each other. Separation from family is probably one of the hardest things for international workers to live with, and it has always been the case. Internet softens the sadness a bit, but it is still hard.
But at the same time, fellow workers also become like family. The Royles came to work in Burkina and were assigned to the Bobos, along with us. Our gifts were different and complimented each other and we worked together happily for years and still keep in touch. We had one single nurse who came to work with us, but after part of a term she felt that the work was not for her and went back to the States and married. We have lost contact with her. Peggy Drake came and what a sweet blessing she was to us and to the Bobo people. She loved to nurse and the people loved her. I taught her the language, and she followed everything I told her to do. I suggested that when you knew a phrase in Bobo to be sure and use it to make it yours. And she did this in praying. When asked to pray, she would start out and finish up in Bobo (which she had learned well) and say everything else in English. The local people thought this was great when I explained to them what was going on!
But with a good staff at Santidougou to continue the ministry there, it was not so hard for us to have to move to the big city of Bobo when Dad was elected field director at conference in 1972. Mark, you no doubt remember Bobo better than you do Santidougou as you were a baby when we moved. Sini could no longer be babysitter as he was for you boys at Santidougou, and so we hired Mamou to take care of you when we lived in Bobo - until you went to school.
Mamou loved you and was so good with you. It was such a fun reunion a couple years ago when we were all at Council in Louisville and she came to the States with Carolyn and Anne-Berthe. She was just SO happy to see you again - all grown up and with four children of your own and Katy's. That was a red letter moment in her life!
We lived in a lot of houses in the city of Bobo. according to the ministries that we were involved in. The church we were associated with in Bobo was Ouézzinville-Sud, which was a district church of Santidougou and did not belong to the Bobo district. We met first in a little mud building belonging to a Christian family of Bobos. I would teach SS out under a mango tree during the message. Then of course we graduated to larger buildings as the years went on. Attending this church kept us attached to the Bobos, as all services were in the Bobo language and not in Jula. We soon saw many converts and that church grew. During the last couple years before our retiral - when I was trying to finish up the Bible translation - I was asked to be CE director there and I enjoyed that ministry with people on the weekend, when I was working with the computers and translators all week.
So the first house we lived in was the mission house - there was a living-dining room, an office, a large kitchen, two nice size bedrooms and a long enclosed back porch - and we were a family of seven. The office became a bedroom and we all were able to comfortably squeeze into that house on the Bobo compound. We seldom had a meal alone as I was also mission hostess, and we enjoyed all the folks that came our way and stayed with us.
To back up a bit, actually the first house we lived in in Bobo was the small guest house over by the motel, where we were asked to stay between chairmen. Grandpa had been field director and they left for furlough before the Burns could move down from Sangha to assume the directorship in Bobo. So we were asked to fill in for a couple months. We were new missionaries and didn't have good sense about some things. We had gotten a full month's allowance from the bookkeeper (in cash) on Saturday and Dad put it in a manilla envelope on a card table, with other papers, in our bedroom. We locked the door when we took you two girls out for a Sunday early evening walk. And when we got back, we found the house had been broken into and our entire month's allowance was GONE! We got through somehow, but it sure taught us to be careful about where you keep money in the big city!
We also lived in the big beautiful house with a nice yard - but right across the street from a bar, where they played music and caroused half the night, especially on weekends. That was a beautiful layout and very elegant, it was large. Mark you had your own bathroom along with your bedroom there. The roof was flat and when you were on vacation you teenagers loved to go up on the roof and make tea and sit and chat. Peter Nanfelt was then president of the Alliance and he was at our house for dinner one evening. We were sitting out in the yard enjoying the moonlight, and he was amazed to see your friends and you, Mark, go up on the roof where yoiu liked to make Arab tea and hang out. Peter was shocked when he asked what you did on the roof and we told him you made and drank tea. You boys especially loved that ritual with your friends.
We were gone on a trip (probably to Bouaké) and someone came and stole all of the considerable amount of porch furniture we had sitting out on the open verandah! Steve came to town and found out about the theft, and went to the police. And sure enough, there sat all of our furniture in front of the police station. So he had them bring it all back and put it back on our porch! We never knew if the police had taken it or if they had found it at some thief's compound. But at least, thanks to Steve, we got it back!
We lived in a beautiful house up near Marantha during the year we were finishing the NT translation. The yard had an abundance of beautiful flowers and bushes and the house itself was very nice. I remember, Elin, you loved having your own bathroom there. We had the house trailor pulled into that yard and used it as a trnslation office where Etienne could sit and translate all day. Dad was working on new building at Maranatha all day and at night he would come home and type up the work that Etienne and I had done that day, in as many carbon copies as he could make for readers. His comment was, "This is like heaven - no day and no night - we just work all the time!" And that WAS a busy year.
You loved going out with your gun, John, before dawn to shoot birds and small animals. This was during your vacation. Mark woke up and begged to go with you one morning and it was before we were awake. You could not find Mark's shoes, so you put a pair of yours on him and stuffed the toes with enough rolled up socks so they would fit and he could walk - barely! That must have been a painful hunting trip for pre-school Mark!
After you had all left the field, we lived in Tim and Ruth's house one year, and Dad took care of the CAMA work while I was teaching at Marantha Institute and writing PEDIM courses. That was a nice house too with a shady porch and we enjoyed the work there also. I don't think any of you were living at home by that time.
Enough of our various home in Bobo for now - to be continued.....................
Uncle Dave and Aunt Margot joined us in Burkina. They were first of all assigned to Mali, but at conference that year their stationing was changed to Burkina and the city of Bobo, to do youth work. They developed a great work among the youth and also worked with US Youth Corps every year. For many years Uncle Dave was field director, so of course that kept them in Bobo also.
Uncle Jim and Aunt Donna also joined us in West Africa, and they were assigned to Mali and the Bwa people. We were all close enough together that we saw each other occasionally - at conference time and going to ICA and sometimes for vacations. We were very fortunate in having family near enough to visit each other. Separation from family is probably one of the hardest things for international workers to live with, and it has always been the case. Internet softens the sadness a bit, but it is still hard.
But at the same time, fellow workers also become like family. The Royles came to work in Burkina and were assigned to the Bobos, along with us. Our gifts were different and complimented each other and we worked together happily for years and still keep in touch. We had one single nurse who came to work with us, but after part of a term she felt that the work was not for her and went back to the States and married. We have lost contact with her. Peggy Drake came and what a sweet blessing she was to us and to the Bobo people. She loved to nurse and the people loved her. I taught her the language, and she followed everything I told her to do. I suggested that when you knew a phrase in Bobo to be sure and use it to make it yours. And she did this in praying. When asked to pray, she would start out and finish up in Bobo (which she had learned well) and say everything else in English. The local people thought this was great when I explained to them what was going on!
But with a good staff at Santidougou to continue the ministry there, it was not so hard for us to have to move to the big city of Bobo when Dad was elected field director at conference in 1972. Mark, you no doubt remember Bobo better than you do Santidougou as you were a baby when we moved. Sini could no longer be babysitter as he was for you boys at Santidougou, and so we hired Mamou to take care of you when we lived in Bobo - until you went to school.
Mamou loved you and was so good with you. It was such a fun reunion a couple years ago when we were all at Council in Louisville and she came to the States with Carolyn and Anne-Berthe. She was just SO happy to see you again - all grown up and with four children of your own and Katy's. That was a red letter moment in her life!
We lived in a lot of houses in the city of Bobo. according to the ministries that we were involved in. The church we were associated with in Bobo was Ouézzinville-Sud, which was a district church of Santidougou and did not belong to the Bobo district. We met first in a little mud building belonging to a Christian family of Bobos. I would teach SS out under a mango tree during the message. Then of course we graduated to larger buildings as the years went on. Attending this church kept us attached to the Bobos, as all services were in the Bobo language and not in Jula. We soon saw many converts and that church grew. During the last couple years before our retiral - when I was trying to finish up the Bible translation - I was asked to be CE director there and I enjoyed that ministry with people on the weekend, when I was working with the computers and translators all week.
So the first house we lived in was the mission house - there was a living-dining room, an office, a large kitchen, two nice size bedrooms and a long enclosed back porch - and we were a family of seven. The office became a bedroom and we all were able to comfortably squeeze into that house on the Bobo compound. We seldom had a meal alone as I was also mission hostess, and we enjoyed all the folks that came our way and stayed with us.
To back up a bit, actually the first house we lived in in Bobo was the small guest house over by the motel, where we were asked to stay between chairmen. Grandpa had been field director and they left for furlough before the Burns could move down from Sangha to assume the directorship in Bobo. So we were asked to fill in for a couple months. We were new missionaries and didn't have good sense about some things. We had gotten a full month's allowance from the bookkeeper (in cash) on Saturday and Dad put it in a manilla envelope on a card table, with other papers, in our bedroom. We locked the door when we took you two girls out for a Sunday early evening walk. And when we got back, we found the house had been broken into and our entire month's allowance was GONE! We got through somehow, but it sure taught us to be careful about where you keep money in the big city!
We also lived in the big beautiful house with a nice yard - but right across the street from a bar, where they played music and caroused half the night, especially on weekends. That was a beautiful layout and very elegant, it was large. Mark you had your own bathroom along with your bedroom there. The roof was flat and when you were on vacation you teenagers loved to go up on the roof and make tea and sit and chat. Peter Nanfelt was then president of the Alliance and he was at our house for dinner one evening. We were sitting out in the yard enjoying the moonlight, and he was amazed to see your friends and you, Mark, go up on the roof where yoiu liked to make Arab tea and hang out. Peter was shocked when he asked what you did on the roof and we told him you made and drank tea. You boys especially loved that ritual with your friends.
We were gone on a trip (probably to Bouaké) and someone came and stole all of the considerable amount of porch furniture we had sitting out on the open verandah! Steve came to town and found out about the theft, and went to the police. And sure enough, there sat all of our furniture in front of the police station. So he had them bring it all back and put it back on our porch! We never knew if the police had taken it or if they had found it at some thief's compound. But at least, thanks to Steve, we got it back!
We lived in a beautiful house up near Marantha during the year we were finishing the NT translation. The yard had an abundance of beautiful flowers and bushes and the house itself was very nice. I remember, Elin, you loved having your own bathroom there. We had the house trailor pulled into that yard and used it as a trnslation office where Etienne could sit and translate all day. Dad was working on new building at Maranatha all day and at night he would come home and type up the work that Etienne and I had done that day, in as many carbon copies as he could make for readers. His comment was, "This is like heaven - no day and no night - we just work all the time!" And that WAS a busy year.
You loved going out with your gun, John, before dawn to shoot birds and small animals. This was during your vacation. Mark woke up and begged to go with you one morning and it was before we were awake. You could not find Mark's shoes, so you put a pair of yours on him and stuffed the toes with enough rolled up socks so they would fit and he could walk - barely! That must have been a painful hunting trip for pre-school Mark!
After you had all left the field, we lived in Tim and Ruth's house one year, and Dad took care of the CAMA work while I was teaching at Marantha Institute and writing PEDIM courses. That was a nice house too with a shady porch and we enjoyed the work there also. I don't think any of you were living at home by that time.
Enough of our various home in Bobo for now - to be continued.....................
Saturday, March 26, 2011
MORE VACATIONS............................................
Besides the Burkina missionaries, people came fram far and wide for the Spring vacation time at the Guinguette. The name for this vacation spot was given by the French military when they were stationed in the city of Bobo. The French military were stationed in Bobo when we arrived on the field in 1959, but left the country shortly thereafter, when Upper Volta (named for the Volta River) became independant, and the new government changed our country's name to BURKINA FASO. (This name was a combination of two of the major languages in our country of more than seventy people group languages, meaning "fatherland of upright people". The people were called Burkinabe, after a Fula expression, another major language.) And thus those names has remained.
Guinguette meant something like "little drinking place" in French and the soldiers named this little haven in the forest near Bobo for the bar they built there. There was a round cement dance floor, very small, and beside it was a thatched open building for the bar. French families would go there on weekends and drink and dance. There was even a string of colored lights strung up in the trees, which they operated by battery. When the French military left Burkina Faso, the bar fell into ruins but the round cement dance floor remained.
In the midst of a very dry country, this little oasis was a natural phenomenon. A stream ran down through a forested area half an hour outside the city of Bobo-Dioulasso. The river was chin deep in places, the water was clear and flowed gently; there were huge trees making an arc over the swimming pool we called the Guinguette. A gentle slope went from the flat camping land where we pitched our tents, and ended in the stream - there was no beach. Along about March - when the boarding school had a short vacation and you kids came home - the missionary community of Burkina, Mali and sometimes Côte d'Ivoire gathered at the river for vacation.
The woods were alive with the noise of light generators and a whole tent city - tents of all colors. Many of us took along our house help as the living was very primitive, water had to be hauled from a distance - and the workers had fun gathering around the campfire at night. You kids often joined them and enjoyed all the comments made! The man who worked for Uncle Dave and Aunt Margot was not happy because his patron's tent was an ugly khaki color, and so many other people had beautiful colored tents. Since his patron was the field director, he thought he should have the nicest tent! Each year we also dug an outside toilet hole, with a wooden box and seat inside and straw mats to form a wall around the outside. All the comforts of home!
Guinguette season fell during the time of year when Maranatha Bible Institute was in session, and I always had morning classes. So most mornings I would drive into the city, teach my classes and then return at noon in time for lunch and a fun afternoon. I did not have time to shop, so usually someone from camp would also drive in and take bread and fresh vegtable orders for people. So we had a pretty modern setup. Filtered water had to be set up also.
The river and its banks rang with the laughter and American voices, and I am sure many local people who took that particular path on their way home from town, wondered what all these tubabus were celebrating out there in their forest! The water was clear, and we did occasionally see a long croc swim through our swimming area at night. No one was allowed in the water after dark. But you kids liked to watch the night life in the water with your bright flashlights.
(A parenthesis here: we would go to the Guinguette occasionally for a day off during the year and apart from vacation time. One day when you girls were small, Martin from Santidougou was with us and we were all in the central pool swimming there in the river. Suddenlym Martin shouted, "Duro! Duro! (Hippo! Hippo!) and sure enough we all got out and pulled you girls out just in time for a big Mama hippo to go swiming upstream fast - right through the area where we had just been swimming! That was the only time we were chased out of the river!)
Occasionally we would have a potluck supper together, with everyone contributing something and all eating together. Do you girls remember the day you decided to make raised doughnuts for the crowd? You had this huge bowl full of dough and were kneading it first in the bowl and then with your hands in the air - and the dough fell down on the ground among the leaves and dust! No problem, you just brushed off or cut off the dirty spots, rekneaded the dough and everyone enjoyed the delicious raised doughnuts!
So going to the Guinguette was a lot of work - but also a lot of fun! And we all looked forward to it every year for a few years there. The one sad memory for me was that it was at the Guinguette that I saw my sister, Aunt Donna, as a well adult for the last time. It was not long after that vacation that she came down with the disease that eventually killed her. More about that later....
We also went to San Pedro a couple of times during those years, after the Ivory Coast Alliance Mission had established a guest house there. It was a beautiful spot up on a high hill above the ocean, with housekeeping apartments available. One year Jason Foster went there with us to be company for you, Mark. It was too far to go home for him. And we have great memories of that time together. Never realizing at the time that in the future we would be stationed there at San Pedro after we retired from Burkina Faso, to work with the church and run the Mission guest quarters.
Guinguette meant something like "little drinking place" in French and the soldiers named this little haven in the forest near Bobo for the bar they built there. There was a round cement dance floor, very small, and beside it was a thatched open building for the bar. French families would go there on weekends and drink and dance. There was even a string of colored lights strung up in the trees, which they operated by battery. When the French military left Burkina Faso, the bar fell into ruins but the round cement dance floor remained.
In the midst of a very dry country, this little oasis was a natural phenomenon. A stream ran down through a forested area half an hour outside the city of Bobo-Dioulasso. The river was chin deep in places, the water was clear and flowed gently; there were huge trees making an arc over the swimming pool we called the Guinguette. A gentle slope went from the flat camping land where we pitched our tents, and ended in the stream - there was no beach. Along about March - when the boarding school had a short vacation and you kids came home - the missionary community of Burkina, Mali and sometimes Côte d'Ivoire gathered at the river for vacation.
The woods were alive with the noise of light generators and a whole tent city - tents of all colors. Many of us took along our house help as the living was very primitive, water had to be hauled from a distance - and the workers had fun gathering around the campfire at night. You kids often joined them and enjoyed all the comments made! The man who worked for Uncle Dave and Aunt Margot was not happy because his patron's tent was an ugly khaki color, and so many other people had beautiful colored tents. Since his patron was the field director, he thought he should have the nicest tent! Each year we also dug an outside toilet hole, with a wooden box and seat inside and straw mats to form a wall around the outside. All the comforts of home!
Guinguette season fell during the time of year when Maranatha Bible Institute was in session, and I always had morning classes. So most mornings I would drive into the city, teach my classes and then return at noon in time for lunch and a fun afternoon. I did not have time to shop, so usually someone from camp would also drive in and take bread and fresh vegtable orders for people. So we had a pretty modern setup. Filtered water had to be set up also.
The river and its banks rang with the laughter and American voices, and I am sure many local people who took that particular path on their way home from town, wondered what all these tubabus were celebrating out there in their forest! The water was clear, and we did occasionally see a long croc swim through our swimming area at night. No one was allowed in the water after dark. But you kids liked to watch the night life in the water with your bright flashlights.
(A parenthesis here: we would go to the Guinguette occasionally for a day off during the year and apart from vacation time. One day when you girls were small, Martin from Santidougou was with us and we were all in the central pool swimming there in the river. Suddenlym Martin shouted, "Duro! Duro! (Hippo! Hippo!) and sure enough we all got out and pulled you girls out just in time for a big Mama hippo to go swiming upstream fast - right through the area where we had just been swimming! That was the only time we were chased out of the river!)
Occasionally we would have a potluck supper together, with everyone contributing something and all eating together. Do you girls remember the day you decided to make raised doughnuts for the crowd? You had this huge bowl full of dough and were kneading it first in the bowl and then with your hands in the air - and the dough fell down on the ground among the leaves and dust! No problem, you just brushed off or cut off the dirty spots, rekneaded the dough and everyone enjoyed the delicious raised doughnuts!
So going to the Guinguette was a lot of work - but also a lot of fun! And we all looked forward to it every year for a few years there. The one sad memory for me was that it was at the Guinguette that I saw my sister, Aunt Donna, as a well adult for the last time. It was not long after that vacation that she came down with the disease that eventually killed her. More about that later....
We also went to San Pedro a couple of times during those years, after the Ivory Coast Alliance Mission had established a guest house there. It was a beautiful spot up on a high hill above the ocean, with housekeeping apartments available. One year Jason Foster went there with us to be company for you, Mark. It was too far to go home for him. And we have great memories of that time together. Never realizing at the time that in the future we would be stationed there at San Pedro after we retired from Burkina Faso, to work with the church and run the Mission guest quarters.
Thursday, March 24, 2011
Vacation time...................................
Now on to something not quite so somber! Every year, as missionaries, we were allowed one month of vacation, this was to include travel. We hoarded those days carefully and planned ahead. Once you kids started boarding school, we had to plan days to be with you at ICA. Dad and I went as far away as Paris, France, and as close as the Guinguette, which was in Bobo country. Some of those vacations were memorable for us and you but we always had fun together when Dad and I were not giving our time to preaching and teaching and helping the sick and translating the Bible. Each year there was a time to put aside our work and concentrate on family. And we had some fun and funny times.
When we knew you were going away to Mamou to school, Cheryl, we decided to take vacation down at Dalaba, in Guinea. We did not want you to go on such a long trip (three days!) without having any idea of where you were going when you attended Mamou later that year.. You three girls were all pre-school. Because my folks had owned a very small cottage on the top terrace of the Dalaba Alliance Hillside, we were assigned there. There was no running water, but a spring with clean water near our house. Dad called it running water - you filled your bucket and ran with it to the house! There was one large bedroom, a sitting-dining room and a little front porch. No refrigeration - a garde-manger where we kept food away from the flies. There was no inside toilet, but an outhouse for daytime and a "chamber pot" for nighttime! All the comforts of home!!
Fruit and vegetables were abundant at that time of year in Guinea. That was before they learned to grow strawberries in Burkina, and we ate berries frequently at Dalaba. There was a nice picnic grove down at the foot of the mountain where we were staying, and the whole vacation crowd would go down there for at least one day for an all day picnic. With three children to cook and clean for, we took along Yusufu to help out with the cleaning and cooking and he enjoyed travelling with us and seeing the sights so far from his little village. He didn't mind just eating what we ate.
We went in to Mamou one day so you girls could see the school, and we tried to be as positive as possible as we talked to you about going there. About the second week, you girls developed the measles - one after the other, and all very sick with the disease. Which did not make vacation much fun for any of us. There was one particularly low point - it was during the night. We always kept a low kerosene light on at night in case we had to get up with you girls. (Did I mention there was no electricity, no gas stove - strictly camping!) Debbi and Elin, you were so sick that night and kept getting up to use the covered chamber potty in the bedroom - we were all five in one room. It had been raining for days, and continued on through the night. Dad got a flashlight to see better to get you girls up for the potty, and made a wrong move and the half full potty turned upside down on the floor! We were grabbing rags to mop up and you girls were crying and the rain was pouring down. Was this vaacation, I wondered, as I longed for my dry Santidougou house with an indoor bathroom! But we did see Dalaba - and Mamou. And we did have some good days there as well. Before taking the three day trek back to Santidougou in Burkina............
I wrote about our unfortunate pressure cooker incident in Monrovia, Liberia, during one vacation. We did go there again one time and that vacation was fun and uneventul. When you kids were little, we also went to Ghana for vacation sometimes. In those days we did not have a lot of American type food items in our stores in Burkina, and we were able to stock up on various grocery articles in Ghana. It was also fun to be talking English to everyone there. (Once we got used to their accent.) Dad had to learn to drive on the left side of the road as well, and this was especially fun going around the big roundabouts in the city of Accra - seemingly going the wrong way! He did a great job. One year we got back to Bobo - after our long trip to Ghana and back - and they stopped us on the road outside the city of Bobo, asked where we were going. When we told them Santidougou, they said we would have to remain in Bobo for a while as there were severe cases of smallpox in the villages outside the city. So we camped out in the Bobo guest house until it was safe to go to our village!
In Ghana we visited Tamale, Axim (on the CI border) Accra and Kumasi. We found people very friendly and there were good accomodations everywhere and lower prices than we paid in French country. We loved going to the shore there - at Accra and Axim. I don't know if you remember this, Debbi, as you were very young, when Elin was just a baby. We had met some American embassy people in the north of Ghana and when they heard we were going to be in Accra they wanted us to visit them for a meal. So we accepted and arranged an evening to go to their home. They lived in a very lovely embassy house and had all kinds of beautiful china and crystal goblets, etc, so the table looked beautiful. That is, the adults' part of the table looked lovely - but you two girls and their daughter were seated at a table beside ours, and there was a ragged tablecloth and tin plates and plastic glasses. You were used to using the same china as we did in our home and knew how to act at the table. Debbi, you were most insistent that you wanted one of those pretty glasses (goblets) and I had to try to hush you up as you drank and ate out of your inferior tableware!! What an evening.
The Assemblies and SIM had mission stations all over Ghana and so we got to know some of their people as we stayed in their guest houses. The Ghana government also had furnished government houses which you could rent for a pittance and we stayed in those also, especially at the ocean. We always felt like we had had a real change when we spent a month in Ghana. There was one government home outside of Kumasi where we spent a week one year. Elin, you were a baby and the man who came to do the laundry for us each day would bring it back in the afternoon all clean and ironed - he even ironed the diapers! They fed you kids early and then you went to a playroom while we had our dinner more leisurely. It was a restful spot and several of us missionaries went there together one year. But as Ghana lost most of the British in their country, the conditions were not as good there, and so we had to find a new vacation spot.
We did find one - right near home: the Guinguette! (more about that later)
One year Grandma and Grandpa Kennedy flew to Bamako to spend a vaction time with all three of our families - Albrights, Kennedys and us. It was a fun time being all together, and we filled the GMU guest house in Bamako for ten days. Another year - when you were in Paris, Bubnas, for language study - Dad and I bought air tickets to spend Christmas with you in Paris, and see Josiah for the first time. You had invited African friends for Christmas dinner, some of whom we knew too. And then we rented a car and took Fernand Sanou back to Normandy where he was in the university - and we got to see some of the north of France as well as Paris-ville. I remember we had saved some gift money and Dad sold my electric sewing machine - which I never used - in order to afford the tickets for the plane trip!
It took ingenuity and planning ahead to plan a family vacation each year. But we did it and had fun. Vacations at the Guinguette are now history, but we had years of good times there too.
When we knew you were going away to Mamou to school, Cheryl, we decided to take vacation down at Dalaba, in Guinea. We did not want you to go on such a long trip (three days!) without having any idea of where you were going when you attended Mamou later that year.. You three girls were all pre-school. Because my folks had owned a very small cottage on the top terrace of the Dalaba Alliance Hillside, we were assigned there. There was no running water, but a spring with clean water near our house. Dad called it running water - you filled your bucket and ran with it to the house! There was one large bedroom, a sitting-dining room and a little front porch. No refrigeration - a garde-manger where we kept food away from the flies. There was no inside toilet, but an outhouse for daytime and a "chamber pot" for nighttime! All the comforts of home!!
Fruit and vegetables were abundant at that time of year in Guinea. That was before they learned to grow strawberries in Burkina, and we ate berries frequently at Dalaba. There was a nice picnic grove down at the foot of the mountain where we were staying, and the whole vacation crowd would go down there for at least one day for an all day picnic. With three children to cook and clean for, we took along Yusufu to help out with the cleaning and cooking and he enjoyed travelling with us and seeing the sights so far from his little village. He didn't mind just eating what we ate.
We went in to Mamou one day so you girls could see the school, and we tried to be as positive as possible as we talked to you about going there. About the second week, you girls developed the measles - one after the other, and all very sick with the disease. Which did not make vacation much fun for any of us. There was one particularly low point - it was during the night. We always kept a low kerosene light on at night in case we had to get up with you girls. (Did I mention there was no electricity, no gas stove - strictly camping!) Debbi and Elin, you were so sick that night and kept getting up to use the covered chamber potty in the bedroom - we were all five in one room. It had been raining for days, and continued on through the night. Dad got a flashlight to see better to get you girls up for the potty, and made a wrong move and the half full potty turned upside down on the floor! We were grabbing rags to mop up and you girls were crying and the rain was pouring down. Was this vaacation, I wondered, as I longed for my dry Santidougou house with an indoor bathroom! But we did see Dalaba - and Mamou. And we did have some good days there as well. Before taking the three day trek back to Santidougou in Burkina............
I wrote about our unfortunate pressure cooker incident in Monrovia, Liberia, during one vacation. We did go there again one time and that vacation was fun and uneventul. When you kids were little, we also went to Ghana for vacation sometimes. In those days we did not have a lot of American type food items in our stores in Burkina, and we were able to stock up on various grocery articles in Ghana. It was also fun to be talking English to everyone there. (Once we got used to their accent.) Dad had to learn to drive on the left side of the road as well, and this was especially fun going around the big roundabouts in the city of Accra - seemingly going the wrong way! He did a great job. One year we got back to Bobo - after our long trip to Ghana and back - and they stopped us on the road outside the city of Bobo, asked where we were going. When we told them Santidougou, they said we would have to remain in Bobo for a while as there were severe cases of smallpox in the villages outside the city. So we camped out in the Bobo guest house until it was safe to go to our village!
In Ghana we visited Tamale, Axim (on the CI border) Accra and Kumasi. We found people very friendly and there were good accomodations everywhere and lower prices than we paid in French country. We loved going to the shore there - at Accra and Axim. I don't know if you remember this, Debbi, as you were very young, when Elin was just a baby. We had met some American embassy people in the north of Ghana and when they heard we were going to be in Accra they wanted us to visit them for a meal. So we accepted and arranged an evening to go to their home. They lived in a very lovely embassy house and had all kinds of beautiful china and crystal goblets, etc, so the table looked beautiful. That is, the adults' part of the table looked lovely - but you two girls and their daughter were seated at a table beside ours, and there was a ragged tablecloth and tin plates and plastic glasses. You were used to using the same china as we did in our home and knew how to act at the table. Debbi, you were most insistent that you wanted one of those pretty glasses (goblets) and I had to try to hush you up as you drank and ate out of your inferior tableware!! What an evening.
The Assemblies and SIM had mission stations all over Ghana and so we got to know some of their people as we stayed in their guest houses. The Ghana government also had furnished government houses which you could rent for a pittance and we stayed in those also, especially at the ocean. We always felt like we had had a real change when we spent a month in Ghana. There was one government home outside of Kumasi where we spent a week one year. Elin, you were a baby and the man who came to do the laundry for us each day would bring it back in the afternoon all clean and ironed - he even ironed the diapers! They fed you kids early and then you went to a playroom while we had our dinner more leisurely. It was a restful spot and several of us missionaries went there together one year. But as Ghana lost most of the British in their country, the conditions were not as good there, and so we had to find a new vacation spot.
We did find one - right near home: the Guinguette! (more about that later)
One year Grandma and Grandpa Kennedy flew to Bamako to spend a vaction time with all three of our families - Albrights, Kennedys and us. It was a fun time being all together, and we filled the GMU guest house in Bamako for ten days. Another year - when you were in Paris, Bubnas, for language study - Dad and I bought air tickets to spend Christmas with you in Paris, and see Josiah for the first time. You had invited African friends for Christmas dinner, some of whom we knew too. And then we rented a car and took Fernand Sanou back to Normandy where he was in the university - and we got to see some of the north of France as well as Paris-ville. I remember we had saved some gift money and Dad sold my electric sewing machine - which I never used - in order to afford the tickets for the plane trip!
It took ingenuity and planning ahead to plan a family vacation each year. But we did it and had fun. Vacations at the Guinguette are now history, but we had years of good times there too.
Tuesday, March 22, 2011
THE DILEMMA OF SCHOOLING..........................
I was born to be a missionary, I grew up in other cultures, learned other languages from the time I was two years old. I felt called of God to "mish". And felt God had also equipped me for that work.
But there was a large thorn in my missionary life - the dilemma of schooling my children. Interestingly enough, I was a missionary kid and even attended MK school. But it never got any easier through all the years I had to do it, to send my children off to school. I cried inside of me and shed many visible tears as well - when we said goodbye and after you had left for school. I never got used to it, although I had plenty of practice! We were allowed to teach each of you a kindergarten course, so you were six when you left for boarding school.
I am so thankful that the Alliance has changed that ruling. When you were all little, there was no choice: just boarding school for you all. Nowadays, there is still the choice of boarding school, but one can also choose to teach at home or to form co-op schools in an area where there are several families. Debbi, I am so happy for the work you do, making educational trips to various African countries to help mothers enrich their children's cirriculum and help in problem solving. It is a new age, and I say Bravo! I wish we had had that choice when you were all young!
Not that boarding schools are all wrong - they are great for some kids. You have had some wonderful dorm parents - and others who were less than wonderful. Some of you blossomed at boarding school and others suffered emotionally. In our day, we could not get to ICA very often because of the distance and the bad roads. If you travelled on the train going to Bouaké as chaperone for the kids, you noticed how differently kids dealt with the separation. Some cried all the way to Banfora. One young boy would start to eat his bag lunch before we pulled out of the train station and ate till it was gone, then just sat looking out the window - what was going through his mind? Others chattered the whole trip with their friends. It was a mixed crowd!
We did make one trip down to the school once a trimester. You had to count your days carefully as you were only allowed a certain amount of days away from your work. Those precious days were marked with red on our calendar. Sometimes our three families would try to make it the same long weekend - Albrights, Kennedys and us. We always stayed at the Alliance guest house. There were things to do - the pool and picnics and games. When Mark was in first grade, he had done something displeasing to a dormparent, and he was sent home (on this weekend with his parents of all times!) with one of those lage folded sheets of French graph paper, with the tiny squares. And he had to put a check mark in each of those squares before he returned to the dorm Monday morning! Such a ridiculous punishment required family solidarity and we all took turns fulling in those tiny sqares for Mark!
Actually, Mark was one of those "good" dorm kids. He was seldom punished that we knew about. Dating was beset with many rules at ICA. And Mark wanted to ask a girl he knew to go out to the restaurant with him and with us while we were there on a visit. First he had to pass through his dorm father (a big muscular ex-policeman) to ask permission to date this girl - before he asked her! He made it through that hurdle and then found that he also had to go through her dormfather to ask if he could ask her out. For a shy kid like you, Mark, this was a lot of hoops to jump through! But you made it and everyone said yes, including the girl! And we had a nice meal out - but you had to be in on the dot of nine so everyone was watching the clock!! Especially in a French restaurant where the service was slow!
All kids react differently to boarding school rules. John and Cheryl, you were happy go lucky about things. Debbi, Elin and Mark, you were more afraid of breaking the rules. Things have changed at ICA - as elsewhere. And friendships were made for life at the school! I always marvel at how people appear out of the woodwork to get together when there is an ICA reunion!
We often had staff who filled in and did not understand MK's - and that was fun!! I remember once when we went to ICA and John, you and Rollo were in fourth grade. You had been asked by this cranky lady (her husband was the high school teacher who swore in class at the kids!) who was your teacher to make a project for some course. I do not even remember the course, but what I do remember is this teacher called us aside, telling us that you boys had dirty minds as you had collaborated to make a bathroom. There was a toilet with moveable top and a tub and so forth. Actually, we thought it was pretty clever! Some of these short term people never understoof MK's very well. But you did all make it.
You had some very good dormparents at ICA, many of whom pray for you and love you and always ask about you. Dad used to have to attend the ICA board meetings, and he always came away frustrated by the far-right theology and practice of some missions involved. One mission director (from another mission) wanted to abolish all girls and boys swimming together at the pool. Another group always prefaced what they had to say in meetings with, "Mah Bahble sez........") with open Bible in hand. Once in a while Uncle Russ would just call a halt to such discussions.
You boys were involved in sports and you girls loved to help out with the baking in your dorm kitchens. And you all made it through OK. Aunt Joan was a great favorite and the Ritcheys and the Stombaughs...we are grateful for all of them - and others - who helped to shape your lives when we were not there.
Cheryl, you had gotten very involved in the Bobo youth group and wanted to stay home one year and go to the local French High School. We got permission from the Powers that Be, and you were able to stay at home. You had close friends and used to stay with the Koblavi girls and you went to classes at Collège de l'Avenir - up by Maranatha, where I taught Bible and Dad built new buildings for that campus. It was a happy year.
When you were growing up, here is how I saw you................
Cheryl, you never thought of the consequence, but just plunged into events! (Maybe that has qualified you for the great work God has given you to do!)
Debbi, you were always a helper - at home and at school. (And you are still that... I can never believe all the work you are involved in, helping other missionaries, your family and the church.)
Elin, you were always timid when you were younger, and you were the most homesick of all five of you kids. (God has made you into a well-organized, caring and gifted woman - who reaches out to both family and others, no matter what culture.)
John, you always lived on the edge, from your boyhood on through your teens. (Through many experiences in your life, God has made you a loving, caring person - always thinking of the other person, never selfish.)
and Mark, our baby, you always tried to get along with everyone. (From your shyness, you blossomed into a wonderful man of God, gifted in administration and a great husband and father.)
And so Dad and I are so proud of all of you and who you have become in Christ. You have all given us wonderful mates and also beautiful grandchildren .....and now even a greatgrandchild! We are indeed blessed with a thoughtful, caring family.
There is still a little part of me that cries inside because you are so far from us......but that is how mothers are!!
But there was a large thorn in my missionary life - the dilemma of schooling my children. Interestingly enough, I was a missionary kid and even attended MK school. But it never got any easier through all the years I had to do it, to send my children off to school. I cried inside of me and shed many visible tears as well - when we said goodbye and after you had left for school. I never got used to it, although I had plenty of practice! We were allowed to teach each of you a kindergarten course, so you were six when you left for boarding school.
I am so thankful that the Alliance has changed that ruling. When you were all little, there was no choice: just boarding school for you all. Nowadays, there is still the choice of boarding school, but one can also choose to teach at home or to form co-op schools in an area where there are several families. Debbi, I am so happy for the work you do, making educational trips to various African countries to help mothers enrich their children's cirriculum and help in problem solving. It is a new age, and I say Bravo! I wish we had had that choice when you were all young!
Not that boarding schools are all wrong - they are great for some kids. You have had some wonderful dorm parents - and others who were less than wonderful. Some of you blossomed at boarding school and others suffered emotionally. In our day, we could not get to ICA very often because of the distance and the bad roads. If you travelled on the train going to Bouaké as chaperone for the kids, you noticed how differently kids dealt with the separation. Some cried all the way to Banfora. One young boy would start to eat his bag lunch before we pulled out of the train station and ate till it was gone, then just sat looking out the window - what was going through his mind? Others chattered the whole trip with their friends. It was a mixed crowd!
We did make one trip down to the school once a trimester. You had to count your days carefully as you were only allowed a certain amount of days away from your work. Those precious days were marked with red on our calendar. Sometimes our three families would try to make it the same long weekend - Albrights, Kennedys and us. We always stayed at the Alliance guest house. There were things to do - the pool and picnics and games. When Mark was in first grade, he had done something displeasing to a dormparent, and he was sent home (on this weekend with his parents of all times!) with one of those lage folded sheets of French graph paper, with the tiny squares. And he had to put a check mark in each of those squares before he returned to the dorm Monday morning! Such a ridiculous punishment required family solidarity and we all took turns fulling in those tiny sqares for Mark!
Actually, Mark was one of those "good" dorm kids. He was seldom punished that we knew about. Dating was beset with many rules at ICA. And Mark wanted to ask a girl he knew to go out to the restaurant with him and with us while we were there on a visit. First he had to pass through his dorm father (a big muscular ex-policeman) to ask permission to date this girl - before he asked her! He made it through that hurdle and then found that he also had to go through her dormfather to ask if he could ask her out. For a shy kid like you, Mark, this was a lot of hoops to jump through! But you made it and everyone said yes, including the girl! And we had a nice meal out - but you had to be in on the dot of nine so everyone was watching the clock!! Especially in a French restaurant where the service was slow!
All kids react differently to boarding school rules. John and Cheryl, you were happy go lucky about things. Debbi, Elin and Mark, you were more afraid of breaking the rules. Things have changed at ICA - as elsewhere. And friendships were made for life at the school! I always marvel at how people appear out of the woodwork to get together when there is an ICA reunion!
We often had staff who filled in and did not understand MK's - and that was fun!! I remember once when we went to ICA and John, you and Rollo were in fourth grade. You had been asked by this cranky lady (her husband was the high school teacher who swore in class at the kids!) who was your teacher to make a project for some course. I do not even remember the course, but what I do remember is this teacher called us aside, telling us that you boys had dirty minds as you had collaborated to make a bathroom. There was a toilet with moveable top and a tub and so forth. Actually, we thought it was pretty clever! Some of these short term people never understoof MK's very well. But you did all make it.
You had some very good dormparents at ICA, many of whom pray for you and love you and always ask about you. Dad used to have to attend the ICA board meetings, and he always came away frustrated by the far-right theology and practice of some missions involved. One mission director (from another mission) wanted to abolish all girls and boys swimming together at the pool. Another group always prefaced what they had to say in meetings with, "Mah Bahble sez........") with open Bible in hand. Once in a while Uncle Russ would just call a halt to such discussions.
You boys were involved in sports and you girls loved to help out with the baking in your dorm kitchens. And you all made it through OK. Aunt Joan was a great favorite and the Ritcheys and the Stombaughs...we are grateful for all of them - and others - who helped to shape your lives when we were not there.
Cheryl, you had gotten very involved in the Bobo youth group and wanted to stay home one year and go to the local French High School. We got permission from the Powers that Be, and you were able to stay at home. You had close friends and used to stay with the Koblavi girls and you went to classes at Collège de l'Avenir - up by Maranatha, where I taught Bible and Dad built new buildings for that campus. It was a happy year.
When you were growing up, here is how I saw you................
Cheryl, you never thought of the consequence, but just plunged into events! (Maybe that has qualified you for the great work God has given you to do!)
Debbi, you were always a helper - at home and at school. (And you are still that... I can never believe all the work you are involved in, helping other missionaries, your family and the church.)
Elin, you were always timid when you were younger, and you were the most homesick of all five of you kids. (God has made you into a well-organized, caring and gifted woman - who reaches out to both family and others, no matter what culture.)
John, you always lived on the edge, from your boyhood on through your teens. (Through many experiences in your life, God has made you a loving, caring person - always thinking of the other person, never selfish.)
and Mark, our baby, you always tried to get along with everyone. (From your shyness, you blossomed into a wonderful man of God, gifted in administration and a great husband and father.)
And so Dad and I are so proud of all of you and who you have become in Christ. You have all given us wonderful mates and also beautiful grandchildren .....and now even a greatgrandchild! We are indeed blessed with a thoughtful, caring family.
There is still a little part of me that cries inside because you are so far from us......but that is how mothers are!!
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