The Midas Touch--NOT

What do you call someone who has the opposite of the Midas Touch? Sadim perhaps (Midas backwards) or maybe, Sodum. Well, however you say it, we've met him--the "man with the opposite of the Midas Touch". He came to our house in the disguise of a plumber and got the house ready for us to live in. So far, there is nothing he touched that hasn't had to be repaired, or if it hasn't had to be repaired yet, we're just waiting with bated breath for it to break. We even had a water heater fall off the wall because he had used some plastic washer things to hold it onto the wall. Good thing no one was under it at the time.

We have had so many problems that needed a better plumber. We found one. He actually repairs things and leaves them in good order. (He really likes our house, I believe, because we are financing his children's education) Anyway, Bartheleme is pretty useful and ends up being called frequently.

Our latest problem has been a busted pipe (see above photo) that took hot water from a heater to the kitchen and laundry room. Since the pipes are always firmly encased in concrete blocks and floors, it was a major undertaking to find the leak. He found it and fixed it--with only a minimal amount of wall busting, for which I am very grateful.

In the midst of fixing this, the faucet in the kitchen broke ("the man..." installed a real piece of junk). Now we are waiting for this to be fixed.

Bartheleme is not bad, but he never comes when he says he'll come, even when we have an "emergency" (like the pump not working). I wish I had a dime for every hour I've wasted waiting on the man. Today is no exception. He said yesterday that he'd have everything done today by lunchtime. I said, "We'll see." He repeated that he'd have it done by lunchtime, and I repeated what I said. then, just as he was about to repeat himself for a 3rd time, he laughed and said, "We'll see." It's now 4:45 and he still isn't here. We have no hot water to the kitchen sink, haven't had all week.

We'll see...

Student Trials

We are down to 5 students. Claire, the lady with the infant, did not return to class after her 2 month internship at a local radio station. When talking to her on the phone she told me that she was not feeling well. I thought it had more to with the $200 in fees she still owes the school.
About 10 days ago she came to the office to explain her situation. Yes, she is having trouble coming up with the money, but she wants to continue with the course. But unfortunately, she won't be doing anything in the coming months. On the night after her visit she was taken to hospital on account of a heart attack. She knew that her blood pressure had been high, but nobody expected it being that serious. When visiting her, the doctor had not yet started her treatment, since the medicine was going to affect her little son. So she will have to wean him first.

Most of the other students have had similar problems paying their fees, but nobody else has had a heart attack over it. I've been nice to them, trying to understand their situations. I've been mean, threatening them with expulsion. I have written letters and called their parents. Nothing seems to work. The students seem genuinely ashamed of it and the pressure is even affecting their performance in class. My colleagues believe that they will pay eventually, since all of them want their diploma. In fact, the piece of paper seems to be more important to people than the actual skill and knowledge gained. However, in the meantime I am struggling to make ends meet. On Friday I didn't have enough money to give to the cook to buy the food for the next two weeks. So, we started to economize by scrapping a meal. It is only the 10-o'clock break so far, but the next one to go is either lunch or dinner, if the students don't cough up some dough soon.

Whatever the situation, I'm not going to allow myself to worry. I believe that God will provide for our media school. He already has me convinced, since I have experienced his faithfulness so many times. I believe God wants the students to experience him as Jehovah Jireh. This morning I read a promise God made through the prophet Joel. I think it is the kind of experience I wish for our students to have too.

 2:26 You will have plenty to eat, until you are full,
       and you will praise the name of the LORD your God,
       who has worked wonders for you;
       never again will my people be shamed.

helping the helpless

A week ago, I was a medic for a day. I visited some villages with Maritza, a doctor friend who volunteers a few days a week at a clinic about 30m/50km from Lome. She works at the clinic but also goes with the local pastor to various villages. This is what we did last week. We got out of the car, set our box of “goodies” on a chair under a tree, and got to work. There were a number of people who had boils on their skin, which had become infected and needed cleaning. I got really good at squirting Betadine cleanser on gauze pads for Maritza to clean the wounds. I was also the antibiotic cream squirter and bandage holder. Pastor Hammer cut the sticky bandages. There were some really disgusting wounds, the worst of which was a lady who had a hand and foot with really bad leprosy. It’s really sad. These people live in a village about 10km/6m from Vogan, where the “hospital” and leprosy clinic are. Leprosy treatment is free in this country but transportation to the clinic is not. This lady’s husband left her when she got sick and she has had no money to go to the clinic. She goes to meet the doctor or nurse who comes out from Pastor Hammer’s clinic, about every other day, to have her wounds cleaned. That’s about the best treatment she can hope for.

I believe the most heart-wrenching thing I witnessed was a little baby who was slowly starving. His mother had left him with his grandmother who already had other children to take care of and this one wasn’t a real priority to her. Although the grandmother had been given soy
formula and shown how to use it, she obviously hadn’t done it right. The boy was terribly anemic and hungry. Hammer talked to the grandmother while Maritza gave him some iron. I can only pray that the lady will actually feed the infant now and give him the medicine. I found myself incredibly upset because I felt so helpless. Unfortunately, it is complicated. There are no social services here. It’s up to the family and village. I have a hard time watching the TV and seeing programs where people spend loads of money to save a little kitten, when there are babies starving to death because of poverty and a lack of education.

By the end of the day, I was VERY dirty, tired and hungry, since we didn’t eat lunch until 4pm. However, I felt somehow changed because of my day as a medic. I realized how desperate these villagers are and how difficult life is for them. I also realized that Maritza and the other medics there, although they work hard, are really only scratching the surface of the problems facing these people. I have a whole new respect for them.

Remembering Pip

As planned, we buried Pip's collar at her favourite spot in our garden. Her memory rests in the shade of a coconut palm tree.

We all thought of something nice to say about her:

Sydney: "I liked Pip."

Fiona: "She could have been my grandmother. She was so old."

Elena: "She had such sad eyes."

But April is not herself today (which is actually nice for a change). She is so sad that her mother has gone.

two feet under

We buried our dog yesterday. I didn't know what to expect, since I've never interred a bigger animal in a city. We put her into a sack and carried her through a garden, over a wall and into another garden. The owner had agreed to have a grave dug among his maniok plants (for a price, of course).

I'm glad Sydney went with me. She was the only one who volunteered to join Pip and me on her last journey though Lomé. Somehow I didn't want to be alone. I think, I must have gotten attached to Pip more than I thought.

This afternoon we are going to have a 'remembrance service' in our garden. Pip had her favorite spot under a palm tree. That's where we'll bury her collar.

A sad day

I'm not sure how many of you followed the saga of our dog Pip (the bigger of the two we "inherited" here, who was also the mother). She has had some sort of infection for months now and has gotten progressively worse. Even after weeks and weeks--months, actually--of antibiotics, we still couldn't heal her. She was losing weight and even with lots of food, she just didn't get better. The vet here, who is actually about the best we have in Lome, basically came to the end of his knowledge and didn't know what to do. We wrote home and asked a vet (thanks for all the help by the way, Sheila and Bryon) if he had any idea. He came up with an idea and we tried it. However, he didn't have much hope. It seemed to give Pip some relief these last couple of weeks and she didn't have so much pain, but she wasn't getting better.

Anyway, sometime in the early hours of this morning, she died. Yesterday, as we left to do our shopping, she looked terrible and we stopped by the vet to make an appointment to have her put down. When we got home, she had perked up and was hanging around the garden looking happier. We didn't have the heart to put her down when she had perked up again so called the vet. However, by evening, altho she ate, she never seemed to recover again.

The girls are handling it well. They don't understand why God let her die even though we prayed for her. We've tried to explain but if any of you have any ideas, please send them!! Elena said, "I wouldn't mind so much if I knew she was going to heaven." What more can we say?

Roger and Sydney have gone with the vet to bury her. We had to contact him and he had to "find a place". Then he had no shovel or pick axe, so Roger had to bring them as well. We'll see how that went when they come back.


I'm putting a photo of her before she got sick.

School

Well, school has started. We got off to a good start on Tuesday and Fiona promptly proceeded to get a tummy bug and missed most of what we did on Wed. Today was normal again. It's nice to be in our new classroom and we now have Sydney with us. You can read a bit about her on the girls' blog.

Our school has a name: Kingfisher Elementary. Here the girls are with their teacher in front of our new sign.

Sydney says good-bye to her bushy Papa. (By the way, I have a quote from Minnie Pearl. "Kissing a fella with a beard is like a picnic. You don't mind going through a little brush to get there.")