Fireworks and a swim to celebrate Christmas?

Well, Merry Christmas to all of you, even if it is a bit late. So how was yours? Ours was…interesting. Ok, we had all the trimmings: Christmas tree, Christmas music, Christmas presents you know. However, we had more (and a bit less, too). We had—and still have—fireworks going off all round, hot weather, marshmallow roasts in the garden… It was nice, but I must say, we really missed family. Although we’ve lived “overseas” for quite a long time, we’ve rarely spent the Christmas holidays without some bits of our family around us. So, this year the holidays weren’t always easy, but it has been relaxing and different, which helps.

It all began on Christmas Eve with a pageant put on by all the Sunday School children at our church. Our girls were involved as well as Kathy and the other teacher, Marlene. It was, well, …different. The production was to start at 7pm, but didn’t get underway until 8:15. Mary (aka Marlene’s 4 year old daughter, Elizabeth) nearly fell asleep before it began and was only kept awake by her father whispering exciting things about Santa and gifts in her ear for half an hour. Despite all the late start and all (I could actually go into much more detail, but will spare you that) it went off well. The children all did a great job and all looked very cute in their “Christmas Uniform” (specially designed for the occasion).

We woke up late-ish Christmas morning to the girls chatting excitedly outside our door. They were ready to open gifts. It was great fun watching them “dig in” with excitement.

One thing we’ve found interesting is that here, Christmas seems to be celebrated with fireworks, much to the terror of our dogs and Fiona. The entire neighborhood seems to have some. As a matter of fact, the 27th was the quietest evening for nearly 2 weeks. I wonder what the New Year will be like.

A Safari and a Birthday

This year we gave ourselves an adventure for Christmas. The week before the holidays we went to a game park in the neighbouring country of Benin. It took us 2 days to get there. The first night we stopped in Kara, in the North of Togo, staying with other missionaries. Kathy got to go to a ladies Christmas party, while Roger stayed with the kids and did the dishes. At least he got to go to bed early.

The transport situation on our trip was an adventure in itself. Just and hour outside Lomé the a/c went out on our pick-up. Needless to say, we were sweating and complaining for hours, while wondering exactly what it was God wanted us to learn from the experience. The next day, however, we were riding in style, when Brett Emerson offered us a ride to the game park in his comfortable Land Cruiser. God didn’t even WANT us to ride in our clunker. And here we were worried about how to manage it all. He had it all under control.

We saw many animals and enjoyed the scenery of Pendjari National Park. As we were on the way back to the hotel after a not-very-fruitful last game-drive, we came upon 5 lions on the road. We watched them for a while and even got to witness a fight between a young male and a lone male who just came upon the pride. It was great to see the girls enjoying Africa, at last.

On our way we drove through an area populated by the Tamberma people. They are known for building fortresses out of waddle and mud, in which the used to seek shelter from slave raiders years ago. Now their area is an UNESCO World Herigate site.

On the way home, we again stayed a night in Kara. Four missionary families live there with a total of 12 kids, all 10 and under! Our girls LOVED it. Fiona in particular, found a new friend. She and Michal, were so happy to find the other. They are “the only 8 year-old girls in Togo”—or so they think.

It was on this day that we also celebrated Sydney’s 5th birthday (2 days early). She had quite a crowd that helped here celebrate and eat pink Barbie cake, which April Emerson had made.

All in all, we had a great time away from Lomé. It was the coming back to the heat and humidity that proved to be most difficult.

Brownouts, Blackouts & God's Provision

Togo is one of those countries where electricity is like rain: it comes and goes, and when it is here it can be an downpour or a trickle. People have learned to live with the situation. Most everybody (who has the means) uses regulators to protect their electronics from voltage fluctuation. However, when nothing is there to regulate, people sit sweating in the dark, while the food goes bad in the fridge. “If you want electricity, you’ll need to generate your own”, is what we were told on arrival. So, I started my quest for a generator that has sufficient power to keep the house light and cool (we’re talking between 8 and 10 kVA, for those who talk that kind of language). I found several, on my first survey trip. But I didn’t find the price acceptable. I don’t generally mind when people get rich, but please, not all at once and not all from me! Needless to say, we continued to use flashlights and battery-powered fans while in the meantime, I explored other avenues. I looked into buying a generator in neighbouring Ghana or even shipping one from Germany or the USA. I simply couldn’t justify spending the equivalent of a small family car on just an engine with alternator. It soon became a regular prayer request, and I know that many people have prayed and asked God to provide for us. For months it seemed that neither I, nor God, was doing anything. I felt bad, having to tell people that I still didn’t have a “powerful” solution. Until yesterday, when a missionary (who is leaving the country) offered me their generator for a good price! It is used, of course, but it has an auto-start (so I don’t have to get out of bed when the electricity goes). And although I haven’t seen it yet, I believe that this is God’s answer to our lack of power. I’ve agreed to take the machine, trusting that I will get the money before he leaves Togo. I hope, this won’t take God as long as it took him to locate the machine for us!

Tribute to a slow God
One thing that I must say, as a word of caution, if you want to trust Him shamelessly: God takes his time! Yes, he is always at work, but he really is slow (at least according to my sense of time). It seems, that it is always 5 minutes to midnight in God’s time management. He took care of the generator, after 6 months! He provided our house for us, in the same way. He takes his time, but he is never late.
God seems to come out of the shadows after we’ve had a go at things ourselves. It’s like when our children have to clean up their room or do the dishes. The parents could do it themselves much quicker and probably better, but we let our children struggle through the experience, because we want them to learn. Learning a skill and knowledge, but most of all, an attitude of trust. In the end, it’s anyway Mama who’ll have to mop the floor and dust the shelves. I wonder what would happen next time, if I didn’t even try to solve a situation myself, but left it all to God? Would he wait until moss grows under the beds or would he move in (like I do) and clean up the whole mess himself? Well, I’m not sure that I have the patience to find out. Why don’t YOU try it out and tell me what happened. I dare you!

The right way to turn left

Today, I experienced another first. I was involved in an automobile accident. Don’t get upset though, we’re all okay. However, let me give a bit of background before I tell you what happened.

Our ministry leaders, Danny and AnnMarie Isenring have been here for about 10 days of their 2 week visit. We’ve had a great time with them and been very encouraged and uplifted. AnnMarie was treating the females of the family to a “girls afternoon” and we were all excited. I had made an appointment with the—as far as I know only—hairdresser who does white peoples’ hair and we were on our way there. When I drive here in Lomé, I like to find ways to get places making only right turns so I don’t have to cross the crazy traffic. I know most of my routes and had mine all planned out. However, I accidentally turned down the wrong road at one point and decided to turn left onto the next street to correct my mistake and get back on track. I put on my blinker, stopped, waited for the oncoming motorcycle then began to turn. As I began, a car came from nowhere on my left and I hit them on their passenger side, door. It wasn’t as bad as it could’ve been because I saw him just in time and he was going very fast. It was, nonetheless, an accident. (By the way, our car wasn’t damaged at all. It hit the iron grill cover thingy on the front doing damage to the other car without hurting ours. Poetic justice as we have a bit of a “junker” and theirs was a very new-looking BMW SUV.) I became an instant nervous wreck, Meme, our house-helper who was with us, got angry with the other driver and AnnMarie did the only sensible thing and began to pray!

Fortunately, a soldier had apparently seen the whole thing and came up to us both. I think had he not come, I would’ve kept driving as I didn’t want to face the other driver even though it was entirely his fault. I had given my papers to the soldier and was getting out of the car when the driver and all the other men traveling with him—there were at least 3 of them—came up and started yelling at me and everyone who didn’t believe he was innocent. Now, you must remember, the girls were also in the car. They saw all this and were getting increasingly scared. The soldier, who was by this time joined by a few others was telling the men to be nice and calm down. Then we all “went to our corners” and waited for the Commandant to arrive. When he came, they all had to test my turn signal, which worked beautifully, and then the other driver tried to argue with him for a while. Eventually, the commandant turned to me and asked, “What do you say?” I finally replied, in my elementary French, that it was forbidden to pass on the left of someone who was turning in that direction, and that I had indicated and was even stopped, waiting to turn. We were then sent to some office but never got there as we were called back. The soldiers had left and the other men wanted to try and bully me to get some money. As our car wasn’t harmed (even if it had been we wouldn’t have ever gotten any money out of these guys) and I wasn’t about to pay him for the damage he caused, I told him it was his problem and we all got in the car and drove off. Besides, we were late for our hair appointment!

God took care of us the whole way. It was a miracle that we were safe and that the soldiers were there to help us. When they realized the girls were in the car and that they were scared, they made sure the other men were kept away from it and made to keep their voices down.
It was also a miracle that Meme and AnnMarie were there. When I had to go to this other office, Meme went with me and AnnMarie stayed with the girls. She comforted them and prayed with them and for me the whole time. Mobile phones are wonderful gadgets, but only when they are with you. I had, for the first time, forgotten mine and couldn’t even call Roger!!! (Where are men when you need them?!)

Happy Thanksgiving!!!

Did you have a nice celebration? We sure did. We even ate turkey and cranberry sauce! Those are real treats, as we don’t normally get either here. It was great to spend the afternoon with friends and meet new ones. Our girls especially enjoyed making new friends. It’s only a pity that they live in another town, about a 6 hours drive from Lomé. Never mind, just knowing they are there is a blessing!

My quote of the day is from Sydney. She came bouncing into the kitchen at 6:30am—there should be a law against being so happy at that hour—telling me that she had been singing a song since she woke up. It goes like this: “And we offer up to You, the sacrifices on Thanksgiving…” I guess they are only offered ON Thanksgiving, not on other days.

Her other quote was just now as I was praying and chatting with her before saying good night. I said that we will have a great day tomorrow as the new girls we met will come and play. She said, “But today, we had a FEAST.” It was truly a feast, for our stomachs and for our “Friend Meters”. Thanks God!

The African children DO have names

Well, as of tomorrow, Sydney will have gone to the local maternelle 2 weeks. Roger drops her off on his way to work and I pick her up at 11:30. Some mornings she doesn't want to go. She says they speak French and she doesn't understand. It must be a bit difficult at times.

I believe she doesn't get to talk much at school, because the whole walk home is one long monologue. She talks non-stop about all she did at school or all she learned that day, or about how badly she needs to go to the toilet--I think she's afraid of the "squat pot" at school.

Learning French was one reason we were glad for her to go to the maternelle. Another was for her to make friends, of which she has a few. She talks about them often. At first they had no names, it was just, "the girl with the hair leelees" (most of the girls have their hair in braids) or "the boy with the brown sandals". One girl is called "the thumper girl" because Sydney taught her how to thump things--and, unfortunately, people. However, she came home Monday with a name, Israel. He seems to be the boy she plays with the most. The 2 of them find and collect bottle caps, which Sydney calls "wine bottle lids", and do various other things.

Today she had some big news. She had found out the name of another girl. Ida (pronounced Eeda for all the anglophones). This was particularly noteworthy because one of Fiona's favorite shows is one she saw in Germany about a sort of Dennis-the-Menace character with a longsuffering sister named Ida. Sydney somehow identifies herself with this little sister and was particularly excited to get home and tell Fiona. Now we have 2 names. Oh, and there is another Marie as well, but we don't hear much about her.

One thing is really annoying. It actually seems that WE don't have names here. We thought we'd gotten used to the fact that people call us "Yovo" whenever we show up. But now it has taken on another dimension. There have been days, when I pick Sydney up at lunch time, where half the school has followed us, chanting "Yovo, Yovo..." Imagine the Pied Piper being followed, and you would have a pretty good picture. It's a bit sad as the school has tried to tell the other students that we are their "friends" and not just "white people". I guess it's just another "learning" opportunity.

We knew it was going to happen one day...

We have just finished a weekend of passing two major milestones here in Togo. The first one was Fiona's 8th birthday on Saturday. She had a wonderful day which started with breakfast in bed. After which she opened presents from Germany, America and Togo.


In the afternoon, she had a party with all 5 kids we know here in Lome. They played 8 games--since she turned 8--and ate birthday cake (which she decorated herself) and ice cream. The day ended with pizza at a local pizzeria with 'the Fam'. The next day we even had surprise visitors who live in another village about 3 hours drive away. We had a great time swimming and eating with them.


Our second milestone (or was it more a stumbling block?) was Elena's first malaria. On Thursday she had a terrible headache that wouldn't go away and that night she went from sweating profusely to freezing. Roger took her to the laboratory on Friday morning where they tested her and found weak signs of malaria. She took her medicine, which she said tasted terrible, and is now back to normal. This medicine worked really well and she was already feeling better by Friday evening.

Elena says, she doesn't want to remember feeling sick. We're hoping that her memory won't be refreshed for a long time.

A New Beginning

Today, Sydney (or Marie, as she's better known here in Togo--Sydney is too hard to pronounce) started school. Actually, she started at a local Ecole Maternelle or kindergarten. She gets to wear a little uniform and carry her backpack with her snack and bottle of water. She seemed a bit shy but jumped right in when they were all called to order.

The school is about a 10 minute walk from our house. We pass by a lady who once gave Sydney a boiled egg as a gift just because she's so cute. (All Africans seem to like Sydney, she has gotten more than her share of hair touching, extra bananas, boiled eggs and all just because she's the smallest.)

Now, we have gone to pick her from school and it seems to have gone well. She was happy and the teachers were amazed that she didn't cry or make a fuss about being left there all alone. Apart from looking quite hot, I think she had a good time. Let's pray each day goes as well.

Les fourmis are not for me

Ya know the verse, Ephesians 6:12, the one that talks about our battle (or struggle as the NIV says) against spiritual forces? Here, I'll quote it for you:

"For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms."

I was wondering if ants qualify for "flesh and blood". There isn't a whole lot more than their sort-of-shell-thing when you smush them, you know, no blood and all. Why, the tiny ones don't even seem to have much to smush period. Therefore, I doubt they fit into the "flesh and blood" category. That means they fall into the "spiritual" one. Okay, I realize they aren't in the "heavenly realms", they are very much here on earth, however, they are my struggle. I'm beginning to wonder if they are instruments of Satan, sent to torture me. (Making them, therefore, "spiritual forces of evil").

You see, I fight a losing battle against these small pests. I thought I could avoid them by making sure there were no traces of food on the countertops. I try to wash dishes regularly and all. I've even tried to make sure there are no drops of water (you can instantly tell where they are because tons of tiny ants have set themselves up all around the perimeter of each one). However, they still come round. They were even in our bed the other night. We don't eat in our bed. Why would they come there? Why can't I get rid of them?

As my last resort, I'll go out and buy talcum powder, but I doubt it'll help. How can I stop those little "armeisen autobahnen" (ant highways) that run down the wall, with talcum powder?

Oh well, the next time you see an ant--guess it's too cold in most of the rest of the world for them now--or decide to leave your dirty dishes sitting on the counter for later, think of me and my struggle against the spiritual forces of evil. Maybe if we all pray against them, they'll go away. Ya think?

Ah, I just had a thought, maybe they are my "thorn in the flesh"...

No, that's sweating all the time, but I'll not go into that now.

Out of Lome (only for a week)

After being in Lome almost exactly 4 months, we finally got out of the city. As a matter of fact, we got out of the country! We went to Benin (the neighboring country) to visit friends. Actually, we were to go for the Spiritual life conference put on by SIM, but due to an emergency in the family of their leader, it was put off 2 weeks. Our visas, which we had just bought, would be expired by then, so we decided to go visit our friends anyway and get a bit of physical enrichment, if not some spiritual as well.

We had a great time visiting the Stahl family (Roger and Theo Stahl were roommates at Bible school many years ago) and meeting others working with them. Our girls especially loved playing with other kids. They were outside all day, every day. The Stahls live on a big compound with loads of great things to do. The main thing was building an Indian village.

The parents had a nice time relaxing and spending time with Theo and Miriam. Another plus about the trip was that we all spoke German the whole week! Well, all that is but Sydney, who spoke as little or as much as she pleased.

Our last day, Saturday, Roger and Theo decided to fix the a/c on our car, which wasn't blowing as it should. They took the entire front of the car apart. It was finally put back together by 10:30pm that night only to find that the battery was totally dead! Fortunately, after being hooked to a charger all night, it worked and we were able to leave on schedule Sunday just after lunch!

It was great to get away and see different places and people. We were a bit afraid the girls would have a really hard time leaving, which they did, but after 2 days in the truck on bumpy roads, they were ready to get "home"! God knew we needn't worry.

Let the little children come

We've been reading, talking and praying about salvation, during our family devotions and in school. Our Bible verse was from Acts 16:31: "Believe in the Lord Jesus and you will be saved." Fiona knew it already by heart. She had learned it at Awanas in Kansas.
Last week, Fiona asked God to help her to believe in him so that she will be saved. She wanted Mama to pray with her. When Papa came home that evening she was very excited and couldn't wait to tell what she and Mama had done.
Sydney felt left out, because she was the only one who had not prayed to become a Christian. So, she was in a bad mood until Papa sat down and prayed with her, too. I was wondering, has anybody ever heard about sulking your way into heaven? I think we'll still have to talk about that one.
Somebody commented during dinner, "if we are all children of God, than Papa & Mama are our brother and sister." That makes sense, doesn't it?!

need a visa?

I just came back from a short trip to Ghana. My colleagues and I accompanied Marcus, our West African Coordinator, to the airport in Accra. The boys had a good weekend together.


I wish we would have had more time to spend in the city, in order to take advantage of all that it has to offer. The services of Doris Quarsh (or was it Koresh) caught my eyes in particular. If you ever need help passing exams or have any other kind of sicknesses, I can contact her for you. Or go ahead and call this great spiritual woman of God yourself. By the way, Ghana's country code in +233. In case you didn't know.

Ils sont finalement arrivés (They've finally arrived)!

Yesterday, at about 20:00 GMT we had Christmas, Easter, Birthday and Wedding Anniversary all at the same time! In other words, our personal effects from the UK finally arrived!
After more than two years of separation, it feels as if a piece of home has caught up with us. Although they are just things, there are so many memories attached to them. The girls were so excited to play with their toys. We couldn't get them to sleep before 11 pm. Kathy and I unpacked till we crashed onto our "new" feather pillows.
Thanks for praying with us as we are putting our lives together in Togo. One piece at a time.

Personal Effects or personally affected?

I've seen our things from England!
I went to the port yesterday, since I had to be present when the custom officials looked through our boxes. They were interested in valuables for which they can make us pay import taxes. It's actually quite humiliating to have strange people dig in your personal belongings, as you can imagine.
Today I found out that customs alone wants about $300. That's actually not bad, according to the clearing agent who was assigned to us by the church. He told me that he'd been able to negotiate such a good price, because the custom's director had been satisfied with a lower amount for himself, since we are working with the church. In other words, customs was only willing to release our goods once their their wheels had been sufficiently greased. And we were actually supposed to be thankful for it. So, did we actually pay a bribe or were we extorted? Are bribery and extortion just both sides of the same coin? Would there be one without the other? Can anybody who plays in this game keep their hands clean?

Tomorrow, we might be able to unpack the things that we packed over two years ago, if there aren't any more surprises ambushing my conscience and our piggy-bank. But I wouldn't count on it.

Filling up

Looking
at it
this
way,
"filling up"
takes on
a totally
new
meaning.

possible solution

We've found out more about our freight. Unfortunately, the documents haven't yet been sent from our office in the UK. The lady working on our case had collapsed in the office Tuesday, two weeks ago. It was found to be caused by a mass on her brain. She was operated on and the mass was completely removed. Assuming the results are OK, she is expected to be discharged either today or Wednesday and she will send the Bill of Lading off immediately with Fedex.

In the meantime I have been contacted by the shipping agent in the UK who told me that they had a way of getting our effects released, even without the original documents. However, that will only be possible once they have received full payment for the delivery. Something else that has not yet been done, for the same reason the documents are still in the UK. If I would make the transfer of nearly 1000 £, the shipping agent could send a message to the port in Lomé, which will hopefully do the trick. But I first want to check with the lady in hospital, so that we don't pay twice. So, communicating with Brenda, is what we need pray for now.

Urgent Request

We have a situation here. Please pray. Our personall effects from the UK are going to arrive tomorrow. The 5 wooden boxes were supposed to get to Lomé three months ago, yet the ship was delayed several times. In order to get out belongings out of the port we need to have the Bill of Lading. However, those clearing documents have not yet arrived. The documents were to be fedExed to us by our mission, but they havn't shown up yet. After enquiring this morning, I found out that the two people who do the forwarding in the UK, are both in hospital. So, at this point I have no idea if they sent the documents or where they are now. Please pray that the documents show up or that we find another solution to get our things out of customes.

Thanks for folding (you hands) with us!

getting hinged

While driving through Lomé we saw a car decorated for a wedding. Fiona cried: "Look, somebody is getting hinged!"

I like the image.

Lomé is so noisy

A black and white bird sits at our bedroom window each morning and sings praises to its creator. It doesn't take long and it's joined by other joyful singers. All this would be wonderful, if it wasn't at 5:00 am! Anyway, how can anybody praise God at such an ungodly hour?!

Shortly afterwards our watchman goes around the house to switch off the lights. Inevitably he stirs up the dogs. We are thankful, that our two German Shepherds look and sound intimmidating. They are certainly keeping uninvited guests away and the whole neighbourhood awake. Has anybody ever succeeded in turning the volume down on dogs?

Now it's time for the bread man to toot his bicycle horn, energetically. We made the mistake and bought his merchendise once or twice. Now he thinks it is his duty to supply us with his bakery products every morning. He doesn't get it that we'd rather sleep. WHO WOULD WANT TO EAT FRESH BAGUETTES FOR BREAKFAST ANYWAY?

By now, it's about 5:30 am and the construction workers begin their labour in the neighbouring plot. Once there was even hammering going on early one Sunday morning. But not for long, I have to say. He had to face the breath of his unbrushed neighbour.

We finally close our eyes again and fall asleep. You know what is going to happen next. Yes, it's 6:00 am and the alarm rears its ugly head. Oh, I could send that thing flying. But then I wouldn't have a mobile phone anymore. Just give me 10 more minutes of sleep...

Somehow I don't remember Africa being so noisy. Every sound seems to be amplified, from shouting preachers to roaring traffic. There is no escape from the sonic flood. I so long for deep silence. But somehow I believe I won't get to hear it here in Togo.

Fiona practicing her skills as a headhunter.
Papa promised the girls a tub of gummy bears
for each singing bird they bring down with the slingshot.
No payouts yet.

in the box

The dispensation of signs and wonders has not yet ended. We received a parcle from Germany in our P. O Box this week! It had only been in transit for about a month. This is particularly amazing since the Togolese postal service is very sloooooow, unreliable and known to "loose" things. No wonder that the workers are unmotivated for they don't receive a regular salary.

If you are ever overcome with a sense of compassion and feel the need to send us some luxury articles like Kool-Aid, packets of salad dressing or gummy bears you might want to consider NOT sending them to this P. O. Box 252 in Lome.


Instead you can use a more reliable destination in the neighbouring country Ghana. Our Friends have a privat mailbag:
HCJB Global
CT PMB 218
Cantonments Post Office
Accra, Ghana
West Africa

For mail from you, we would even drive to another country!

School Days

We are old hands at this homeschool thing. We just finished our 3rd week! It has gone well so far, though it's nothing like the "real" thing. Both girls have had trouble getting used to it.

Fiona says, "This isn't my REAL school, that's in Kansas."

Elena said, "It just doesn't FEEL like school."

I know what they mean, but this is what we must do for now so we'll make the most of it.

We are meeting in our spare bedroom. It is the spare bedroom as it has a bed in it, but that bed is covered in books and papers. There are 3 desks--and a table next to an Action Packer for Sydney--and we now have loads of cool things on the walls. I think the more we get into it, the more it'll "feel" like "real" school.

Last week, they knew their school in Burdett started and it was somehow hard to be here and not there. However, they can write to their friends and even their classes which makes them feel slightly closer.

Here are a few photos. Roger says that if we weren't so impatient, they would be better photos. I doubt any amount of patience could help me though!!!

"It's way quieter here," said Sydney as the electric organ was quietly playing the opening hymn at church this past Sunday. An advantage to having our own wheels is that we can go to church wherever we want.

This past Sunday we went to the small church which meets in the chapel of the Baptist Seminary. The sermons are always in French and English (not Ewe and sometimes French) and they even have a Sunday School which they will translate for the kids.

It was a nice experience for all of us but I guess the main thing we liked about it was that, like Sydney, we were glad it was quieter. Oh, and we each got a Coke after the service, compliments of the Sr. Pastor to welcome all newcomers.

We've got a car!

After months of waiting, weeks of searching and days of running around, we finally have four wheels. Quite frankly, we were so desperate at the end, that we took anything that we could get. The vehicle was a real bargain. Isn't that what good stewardship is all about?!

Actually, this is the chosen one! A Nissan, which we just christened "Yovo" (the Ewe word for white person). Although it's a bit rusty, the overall condition is not bad, despite its 180.000 km on Africa high - or better - byways. Tomorrow morning we'll take our first drive to the beach. Can't wait!

Dog food

It has been brought to my attention that some of our 4-legged friends (those with whom our blog has been shared) are a mite jealous that our dogs get a cooked meal every day.

Let me assure you it isn't all it sounds. You see, they don't get to eat those lovely dry nuggets or that scrumptious moist stuff from a can. If we wanted to feed them such fare, we'd have to sell an arm and leg--it's just way too expensive.

However, we can buy rice by the 50 kg bag and bones from the butcher which have, unfortunately, to be cooked before the dogs can eat. It isn't a pleasant meal for me to prepare (I can't stand the smell of cooking bones and various other animal parts) but I can't honestly speak for the flavor, you must ask the dogs. Their favorite is when we put left-over gravy or pan juice in the rice.

However, they just might like a can once in a while--if they knew what they were missing.

African Cook

I'm so proud of myself! Today I started a charcoal fire and cooked the dog food, and most of our supper on it. It's VERY hard to find gas for our bottles (and when we find it, it's very expensive) and we had to find another way to cook. Yesterday Meme, the lady who works for us, bought a charcoal cooker and charcoal. She doesn't work on Thursdays, so I tried it myself. Believe it or not, I did it!! I got the thing lit and began cooking. The fact that the entire house smells like charcoal--which I can't stand--doesn't matter, I saved gas. We don't have a real "outside kitchen" and I thought our little "porch" thingy was enough. I need to find a place MUCH further from the house next time. Anyway, I'm proud of myself that I've become a good African cook today. Just have to get rid of this terrible charcoal smell!

Spot & Shake

I told you about my experiences on the local widow-maker. While it is often a scary passage, I sometimes enjoy driving to work on the moto-taxi (when the road is smooth and the wind blows through my hair). By the way, I haven’t had a hair cut since that fateful day in May. I don’t know if I every told you? Kathy had gone shopping, leaving the children with my brother-in-law and me. Well, we played around with the clippers and I ended up with my first “Glatze”. Needless to say, Kathy was not happy when she came home and saw my bald head. It must have made quite and impression on her, since it took her a while to forgive me for what I had done to myself. I noticed that her sentences were rather short for at least a week. Anyway, I really didn’t want to talk about my mane. All this is to say that I am still looking for a proper haircut here in Togo. We haven’t made many friends. So I can’t risk Kathy not talking to me.

Well, back onto the motorcycle that takes me to work. My latest sport has been a game of “Spot & Shake”. During my 12 km ride to and from the office I sometimes see very strange things on the motorcycles. The first unusual thing I’ve noticed on one of those two-stroke devils, was a woman! Call me a chauvinistic pig, but somehow, something didn’t look right. In all my time in Africa, I have never before seen an African lady in skirt and high heels driving a motorcycle. Obviously, I haven’t been to Togo before. Well, now I have and I’m waiting for my first female taxi driver.
As if that was not scary enough, I started to notice all the children on the moto-taxis. Between the driver and the mother at the rear, one can see little ones of all ages. Last week I saw a whole family. The little boy (about 3) was sitting on the fuel tank. Then came the driver, presumably the father, followed by a newborn, which was wedged in between him and the mother at the rear. Can you imagine what would happen if… I don’t even want to think about it.
Because of encounters like this, my soul has developed a protective layer. Now I can only shake my head at the sight of television sets and fridges. Seeing a 50-gallon drum, transported on the head of the passenger, seems to be quite normal. Don’t you do that all the time in Leeds and Philadelphia?
I wish I had a camera each time I spot one of those head-shakers. Last Thursday, while searching a barber (really!), I saw the funniest passengers yet (besides myself). On the motorcycle next to me I saw a real kid! With her legs tied and placed between the driver and the passenger, I spotted a goat the size of a microwave oven. It must have been on its way to a BBQ party. I assume it was the main guest. ;-)

What are the odds?

Yesterday, we decided to “try out” the Baptist church around the corner. We’ve had the “pleasure” of following all the services from our living room. Guess why they call those things LOUD speakers? Anyway, the girls didn’t want to go to an African church, because they think that they last too long, are loud and boring. But we had heard that the service would be in English and French. So, the girls put on their new dresses, and off we went. As the first “yovo” of the day, we were escorted to the front, sort of on display. Of course, it is a sign of honour (but it doesn’t always feel like a perk). After a while I started wrestling with God. So far the service had only been in Ewe (local language) and French, and it was very, very loud. I asked God to help me praise him, because there was nothing conducive to worship for me. I could already see that I was going have to endure this torture, hoping that it wouldn’t take too long.

All in a sudden my whole attitude changed. From one minute to the other I knew that God was in control of my life and that being at this church was no accident. In fact, it was exactly where God wanted us to be. I knew God had heard my prayer.
What had changed? While we were singing, a casually dressed man and boy walked in. As they passed, the man waved. I did a double-take. No, that couldn’t be. It was Amboise, the director of our language school in France. His wife had been Roger’s teacher the first term and our girls, and all of us, became really good friends with them. It was so astonishing. I mean we knew he was originally from Togo and still had family here, but he hadn’t been at home for 12 years and we had no idea that they were coming to visit. It was just too unreal. In a city of around 800,000 with many churches, he walked into the same one we had decided to attend that Sunday! What are the odds.

It gets more amazing. The lady sitting next to me asked, in French of course, what we were all talking so excitedly about among ourselves. I said that the man and his son who had just walked past were friends and we were amazed to see them. She asked me what the man’s name was. I said Teko (family name). She said, “My name is Teko as well, he is my brother.” Was I floored. No wonder he came to this church as his sister and brother-in-law go there, too. They live not far from us. It was all too much. It was hard to concentrate after that.

It was just too much to take in. I said afterward that it’s a small world, but I like better what the sister said, “We have a big God”. It’s too true. “Our God is a great big God. And He holds us in His hand.” (or as Sydney used to sing, “And He holds on Sydney’s hand”)

By the way, another “yovo” couple came in that morning, which also had to sit in the front. He was the guest speaker. He introduced himself as a teacher at a Baptist university in Texas. In fact they came from Marshall, Texas; just 17 miles where I went to high school! Another one of those co-incidences a-la-God!
By the way, the message was in English and French after all.

Something New

We've discovered we can do something new on this site. You'll notice photos that change at the left of the page. It's a collection of photos from our time thus far here in Togo. If you'd like an even larger look just click on the photos and it'll open another window.

Enjoy!

The day I almost became a Togolese

After initially hesitating to use public transport in Togo, I’m now a seasoned customer of the ever-present “moto taxi”, a small motorcycle. They are everywhere! Sometimes they attack like a swarm of bees. Especially when you try to cross the road. Most of the time the “chauffeur” will honk at you, in an attempt to convince you to put your life into his hands. I’m praying every time I mount one of those two-stroke devils (and so is Kathy). Yesterday for example, the driver was wearing a helmet (while 99% of the taxi men in Lomé believe they are invincible). However, there was no head protection for me. I didn’t know what to make of it. Was he such a bad driver that he had to wear a helmet? Where would that leave me, in the case of an accident? As it turned out, he was probably the most careful driver I’ve ever surrendered my life to.
This morning, by contrast, I almost became a real Togolese. Standing by the side of the road, I’m pretending that nobody sees me. Here comes one of those taxies from hell, honks at me in the hope of a good deal on a “Yovo”. I’m nodding. Actually, I only raised my eyebrows and with it made the good man stop. At this point the heckling begins. Colorless people are always charged more than the “ame-ibo”, the black man. Now listen, I don’t mind if people get rich. But please, not all at once and not all from me! Well, after I try to pronounce the place I want to go to, and almost sever my vocal cords in the process (well, you try to say “from Hedzranawé to Atikoumé, please”), we show off all our battle skills. By the way, you have to do it before you mount. Otherwise, you’ll pay whatever the driver tells you at the end. He starts by quoting a ridiculously high price, something in the range of $1.75. I shake my head in disbelief and pretend to walk away. He asks me how much I am willing to pay. Instead of giving an amount, I am telling him that yesterday I only paid 80 cents. Which is of course not enough for such a long trip, in his mind. Instead of remaining on my high ground I am agreeing to pay a dollar, since his sick mother and all his hungry children give my conscience a hard time. But a real Togolese would never have backed down. Well, I told you that I “almost” became a Togolese.
After we were both happy with the price the journey starts. Since it has rained during the night, the muddy road is slippery and pretty well covered with potholes full of water. But surprisingly, no one gets dirty. I’m always amazed at how all Africans manage to stay so clean, while I look like a pig when I only step out of the front door. It doesn’t take long and we are exchanging pleasantries and try to identify people we both knew. I find out that he is a member of a local church and that he is also part of an intercession ministry. Within minutes we are shouting theological concepts over the noise and traffic all around us. Where else could you talk to a total strange about deep issues, within minutes of one’s acquaintance?! Only in Africa.
Well, the story is not yet over. Suddenly my mobile phone rings. I’m receiving a text message. By the way, I bought a nice new phone some weeks ago. But, unfortunately I don’t have it anymore. I surrendered it to my lovely wife. My African colleagues thought it looked too feminine and my children were of the opinion that I didn’t need another digital camera. Well, I couldn’t say anything in my defense. So, I’m using Kathy’s old phone now. Anyway, here I’m sitting at the back of a smelly two-stroke, we are talking theology, when I receive a text. I dig the phone out of my pocket. Unlock it, read the text and write my answer on the 10 little buttons of my Nokia, all while flying past traffic and pedestrians at about 50 km/h.
When I told the story to my colleague he didn’t get it. I could read it in his eye: “What was so special about that? That’s just what you call a mobile office here in Togo.”

Well, the day ended with another ride on the widow-maker. To make my “mobile office” experience complete I held an inkjet printer (which I had just bought) under my arm while holding on with the other hand. Fortunately, I didn’t have to make any printouts.

Quote of the day

Sydney, after I allowed them to wear their nice dresses to play posh ladies:

“Oh thank you Mama!” “I like you more than…more than Satan!”

Good to know.




On another note, I have just tried to paste the link to Google maps showing our house in the direct middle of the page (under the big tree). Hope it works.

photos

Well, I couldn't figure out how to make captions for the photos. The first one (in the previous post) is the view from our front gate and the 2nd is the view from our back door. Above is the view of the front, car gate (we have a walk thru gate but no key for it yet). Following are a few inside shots.



2 shots of the girls' room. Much bigger than the guest house.

We've Moved!!!

A week ago, we moved into a house not far from the airport—not that that means a lot to most of you, but, if you go to Google Maps and find the satellite one of Lome, you’ll have an idea. Anyway, it’s nice to be in our own space and to spread out a bit. We feel pretty much at home now. The dogs enjoy the space, though unfortunately, they can’t get far enough away from the house in order to bark without disturbing us!!! They often begin before 5am, blasted things!

The area we are in is relatively quiet, except for our dogs, and there seem to be a number of children around. Because it’s so calm, Elena got to walk to the little “shop”-thingy down the road the other day and buy eggs, all alone. She was really proud of herself, as were we that she went on such an expedition all alone having to rely on her French. Just before reaching our gate, she passed a lady getting on a moto-taxi. The lady stopped, held up her camera/phone and took a photo of Elena. It seemed a bit strange since we are usually the ones taking photos of Africans. The ladies all seem to like Elena’s long hair. Fiona and Sydney have hair that “attracts” as well, though it’s shorter. None of them like having their hair fondled, but it’s difficult to know what to say. It is usually only a quick touch or so. Most of these ladies we’ve met haven’t had the opportunity to touch “yovo” (the name for people of no color) hair.

I’ve gone the last 2 Saturdays to do shopping for the week, in town. I’ve found that Lome is rather expensive. Until we moved, Meme—the lady who helps us—did all the shopping and it was always pretty minimal. Unfortunately, it was also pretty minimal when I went as well, as I was a bit overwhelmed by the choice, or lack thereof, and the cost. This week I think I did better. I don’t know if I will get used to it and find stuff to make what we like to eat (perhaps we’ll just have to learn to eat more of what is available—hint, hint Fiona and Sydney). The other day I made some meat (which we haven’t had a whole lot of here) and pan-fried potatoes. Fiona came into the kitchen and looked at everything and said, “Yeah! American food!!!!” I guess it hasn’t been terribly easy for them at times.

I must say, the girls have been really good sports about it all. They usually just get on with it and try to eat whatever is set before them. Meme has learned what they like to eat, of what she cooks, so they get by better than they did in the first week or so. The girls also play really well together, for which I cannot be thankful enough. They entertain each other and have fun each day playing their “games”. We found a pool nearby which looks to be a good diversion and where we may even be able to get swimming lessons.

Be Patient

Patience. It's actually not a very nice word, when ya come to think of it. However, lately, we are learning it's meaning all over again. We finally found a house to live in--only for a maximum of a year since it belongs to the Baptists and they will need it next summer--but we can't yet move into it. We wait and wait. They say, "We haven't done the inventory." (it's furnished) or "We have to draw up the contract." So we wait.

We have some things we had in England that we packed up to have sent over here. The shipping company kept asking when we wanted our things. Since we didn't know where we would store them here in Togo, we wanted to wait until we got here and found a place. They told us it would take about 2 weeks for the things to arrive. We asked them 3 weeks ago, to send them. They failed to tell us that we may have to wait ages for a ship to put the crate on. Our things are still sitting in some port in the UK. So we wait.

I guess it is character building. After all, we wouldn't learn anything if we were in our comfort zone and all was rosy, now would we? Therefore, we'll make the most of it all...and wait.

Here at the guesthouse, we have a small market close by where we can feed our mango habit and buy a few other things. If one stands long enough at some of the little booths, one could find most anything. I even saw playing cards the other day! And one lady who always has very banged-up bananas is always nice and gives a gift of one each for the girls (they do come in handy sometimes, these kids).

There are nice things here, we just think things should happen faster than they do and we get upset when nothing happens. So we wait...and enjoy what we have. (Like this week, we've had electricity every day!!!)

Our dogs

In case we didn't say before, we inherited 2 dogs here in Togo. They are really nice. The bigger one, the mother, is called Pip and the smaller is called April. She was born April 1, 2007. They are residing at the office where Roger works right now because we don't have a house yet. The girls are happy to have pets--finally!

A Few Things I Never Thought I'd Need to Know or Do

Lately, we've had a number of interesting experiences:

1.) I never thought I'd put antiperspirant on my legs to keep them from rubbing together while wearing skirts/dresses. I mean, who knew??!

2.) I never thought I'd be sweeping up dog poo with a straw broom off the paving tiles and flushing it all town the toilet.

3.) Along with that, I never thought I'd have to turn on the water to the toilet just long enough for the tank to fill but not long enough for it to overflow in order to flush!

4.) I never thought I'd be sitting in a stalled taxi, rolling downhill against traffic--of which there is quite a bit--just because we ran out of fuel.

5.) I never thought I'd have to wake up at 5:30am to leave for church by 6:30. (It starts at 7am and it takes 15 minutes to walk there).

6.) I never thought I'd regret having asked to put the fan on while at church because it blew so hard we almost couldn't keep our eyes open.

anything new?

Well, today the girls got a first-hand look at poverty and were really touched by it. An old lady who was obviously blind in one eye and looked dirty and, well, just plain poor came up to our taxi as we were at a traffic light. The girls looked all over the car for something to give her. They asked many questions and prayed for all poor people tonight. This is the kind of thing God can use to help these kinds of people. For a number of years, Elena remembered the street kids in Nairobi who lived on a roundabout in the middle of the city. She was so touched by their plight that, some years later, she wanted to give some money to help them. We made Christmas ornaments and sold them. After hearing what they were for, the kid's club Elena went to, matched the amount. It was all sent to a home for Street Kids we know of in Kenya. They in turn sent a thank you telling how many bags of beans , rice and corn the money bought. It was all because a little girl was touched by what she had when she was about 4 years old and it had stuck with her. Maybe our girls will be inspired to do something similar now.

Interestingly, I haven't seen the abject poverty here that I saw in Kenya. For one thing, there don't seem to be as many street kids. Another is there don't seem to be any slums. Maybe that's part of it, I don't know.

On another note. How many of you take something to the bathroom with you to read when you know you'll be in there for a while? Come on, admit it, you do it, too. Well, for us here, bathroom reading has taken on a whole new meaning. We now read the toilet paper. We've bought recycled paper produced in Ghana and the big game is to try to find as many letters still on the paper as possible. We have quite a collection so far! Next week I want to make a chart to hang in the bathroom. We can tick off each letter--upper and lower case--as we find it!

Tomorrow will be our 4th Sunday here (tho the first one was the day after we arrived so we just stayed here in our little flat that day). It seems the Togolais like to begin worship early. We have to get up at 5:45am to be at the church (about a 15 minute walk) by 6:45am! Personally, I find it almost unholy. I mean WHO gets up that early, or rather, who gets up that early and wants to socialize at that hour? Honestly! At least we then have basically the whole day ahead of us. Depending on how long the service lasts.

2 weeks later

Has it only been 2 weeks since we arrived? It seems like much more. We're still here in the SIL guest house as we haven't found a house of our own, yet. We thought we had one but were "out bid" at the last minute when someone else (the grapevine said it was a German--go figure) came along with cash in hand which was TOO tempting to the owner. I'm sure it was also for more than we had been promised we needed to pay. Anyway, we had to begin the search again. We've found one but it still needs a bit of work so we will see this week how long that work will take and all.

I wanted to put a few first impressions. The girls say, "It' s different." --Elena; "Really hot!"--Fiona; "I see lizards and gecko's and all animals that we never saw."--Sydney; "It's loud and smelly."--all 3 in unison. I (Kathy) have observed that all 3 are a bit "unexcited" when they leave the compound. They don't like being stared at and Sydney in particular, gets the lion's share of the cheek tweaking and hair stroking. She even had her hand kissed today! That's what ya get for being cute. Roger and I have our own observations as well. I can't believe the number of motorcycles! They swarm on the roads like bees. I don't think I could drive here. It looks too scary! Roger, on the other hand is enjoying that part and has even driven our colleague's car a bit. We'll see. I just don't want to be responsible for someone's death, even if they did pull out in front of me.

First impressions

Sydney taking a bath in an Action Packer

Fiona & Sydney looking for geckos

Elena catching the longest worm in Togo

moving right along

As usual, we haven't kept up with ourselves here. However, here we are again. Now we are in Togo, our final destination for the last year and a half--or so. We have just arrived and are staying at a guest house here in Lome, looking for a place to live. The following is a little blurb about our trip getting here and a few photos of it.

We left Wichita amidst tears and excitement, at 6:30 am Thursday. Our flight to Houston was fine and we only had about a 2 1/2 hour layover there. After that, it was off to New York. That flight was a bit longer--5-ish hours, I think--but it was also fine.
We had to claim our 10 boxes and a suitcase and take them from Continental arrivals to Royal Air Maroc's departures. It all sounded easy until we realised that they were in 2 different terminals and that we* couldn't *"hire" a Skycap to haul them on his big trolley thingy. We had to rent 3 of those carts (why do we always have to pay for them in American airports? In any other I've been in, we just borrow them for free). Anyway, we balanced, rather precariously, 3 per trolley, along with some of our hand luggage (one box had come open somewhere between Wichita and Houston and didn't come to NY until later). We had to push these from Terminal 2 to Terminal 1 via a train system (we could see T1 from where we claimed our bags in T2, it looked do-able). Roger pushed one, I pushed one and Elena was pushing the last one. Fiona and Sydney pulled hand luggage.
We finally made it up to the train and waited. There were a lot of others waiting to get on and Roger, with F & S, went to one door to wait while Elena and I waited at another. Now, these are those computer operated trains that only stop for a certain amount of time and begin to shut the doors after that time is up. They are also just far enough from the platform that there is a gap in which wheels hang up. I coached Elena that if we got separated, she only needed to get off at Terminal 1 and made her repeat it to me several times. When the train came, I helped her get on. The front wheels got stuck in the gap and boxes started to fall. A man came and helped me get Elena on--as the doors tried to close on me and the trolley--but I didn't have time to get on myself. Just as the doors closed, I fearfully asked the man to please help her get off at Terminal 1, the next stop. As soon as the train left, I stood there and fumed and fretted about why we couldn't find any help. Then I looked at the little display which told about the train they had all gotten onto (by the way, Roger and the other 2 had gotten on the same train, just further up) which said NOTHING about Terminal 1. It was going in the opposite direction!

Then my prayer changed. I began to pray earnestly that I'd catch up with Elena somehow, fearing that we'd both just get lost in the vast JFK Airport. Here I'd sent my 9 year old along with a bunch of bags she couldn't lift, and a man she didn't know to get off at the next stop, which wasn't, after all, the next stop. I got on a next train 5 mins later and prayed I'd find her.

As we pulled into the next stop, I saw her standing there waving her hands on the platform and the man was with her. He was getting off at that stop and had helped her get off as well to wait for me (fortunately, he understood the more intricate workings of JFK than we did and knew that it was best for Elena to wait and get on the next train with me--tho. I really think he was the angel God sent to watch over Elena). He and I helped her get back on--of course the boxes were not stacked on the trolley any longer as they had fallen off again--and Elena and I left, not knowing where we were headed. Somehow it didn't matter much to me any longer as I was so happy to be with her again. We could then start to laugh about the whole mess. Here we were, sliding all over a train at every curve with boxes falling off and getting squished but we were together again so we were happy. As it turned out, the train went to the end of the line and turned around, so we just tried to prop ourselves against things and enjoy the scenery of the vast JFK airport--it looked like a lovely day. We finally got to Terminal 1--about an hour after we first got on the train--and Roger, Fiona and Sydney were there to help us get off. (By the way, I had realised after trying to get Elena on, that it would be best to go on backwards as the wheels were larger and wouldn't get stuck and it worked, so I didn't loose any boxes until the first curve sent everything flying, it also helped us get off with everything in tact).

We all took off for the ticket counter and told our stories all at once. Roger, Fiona and Sydney had also ridden the train all the way to the end and back to T1. He had had no idea Elena had started out on the same train as his boxes had also fallen all over when getting on the train and he was worrying with Fiona and Sydney as well. As it turned out, they only had to wait for us for about 5 mins.
We found Royal Air Maroc and decided to spend the money to have our boxes shrink wrapped. Too bad it wasn't an option in Wichita as they would've stuck to one another very well that way and not fallen off the trolleys. AND we wouldn't have lost one due to it opening. Oh well, it wasn't an option.

After we got all but our missing box checked in (some 5 hours or so after arriving in NY), we found the food court and splurged on Pizza and salad. The girls and I then went thru the security check and Roger headed back to Continental to pick up the damaged box and check it onto our Royal Air Maroc flight. He made it back just in time and we got on the plane for Casablanca.
While there for our 14 hour layover, we had a really nice time with friends who had come down to meet us. We swam in their hotel, played at the beach and ate some tasty fish--which had been fried with their heads on, eeek! (where He leads me I will follow; what He feeds me I will swallow)

We had another uneventful flight to Lome and all slept most of the way. We got to Togo at about 4:30 am local time 42 hours after leaving Wichita. The girls were so tired--as were we--that they almost lost it while waiting in the heat and humidity for our visas and luggage (another hour or so). That one box had gotten lost again so we had to wait in line to report it. While getting our boxes from the baggage claim, one of our colleagues came back and helped us thru the process which was really great. We were in no shape to try our broken French and had no idea how things work here anyway. He helped us get thru customs with them only having to look inside one box!
Now we've been here about 33 hours or so, it's 1:30 pm Sunday, and the girls slept until around 11:00. Roger went with our colleagues to get the last box, the girls are happily playing with toys we've dug out and we are doing ok for now.

Thanks for all your prayers. We saw God's hand in all our adventures, especially in the angel He provided to guard over Elena while we were separated. Praise God for His provision. He even provided for us when we got here as the men had bought some food and found a lady who would make lunch for us as well as buy stuff for today. It was amazing.
That's about it for now, take care and continue to pray for a house for us and all. God is with us and we are grateful for your prayers.