Baking Day

The first class of Mediafrique (the training school we came here to set up) graduated last Saturday. Roger volunteered me to bake cake for 50-ish people. It isn't possible to bake early here as I had no where to store them so they would not go bad in the heat or be infested with ants. Therefore, on Friday morning, I baked 4 cakes. It took me until 1:00 and we didn't eat lunch until 2:00.

Then, in the evening, I had to decorate them. They were to have the logos of the school, and the partners in the school: RW, IBRA and Distance Media. Here are the final results. (By the way, we kept them in our bedroom, with a/c, overnight and the ants still found them. Oh well.)

Quick Update

Just to let you know that Danny and AnnMarie's suitcases arrived yesterday! At first the airline said, only 3 of the 4 had arrived, but when Danny and I got there to claim them, the 4th one was also there!! Now they can wear their own clothes and we got to sort thru TONS of Christmas presents that had been sent from friends and family. We're even enjoying Weihnachts Plätzchen (Christmas cookies) from Oma. Thanks to all. Can't wait until Christmas!!

~K

A Visit

We are really excited that Danny and AnnMaire Isenring (RW leaders) have arrived. They got here VERY early Sat. morning (2am). The whole family found it hard to go to sleep Friday night and Sydney especially so. Everyone was awake when Roger and Sydney got home from the airport with them.

However, they, unfortunately, arrived without their luggage. It wouldn't be so bad if we could've gone to Wal-Mart and buy some stuff for a few days, until Monday--hopefully--when the next plane arrives. We did go to the market and found a few essentials, tho the "new" shirt Danny found is already coming apart at the seam!

Even if they have only a few clothes to wear, we are excited they're here. They'll help Roger with the final exams at school the next few days and spend time with all of us. It's going to be fun. The girls are especially happy that "Uncle Danny" likes doing dishes for us each meal, among other things, of course!

“If the shoe fits, it's too expensive."

In my case I actually had to pay 3000 CFA. The equivalent of about $6. So, don't make the same mistake as I did and leave your house shoes on as you walk out the front door.
By the way, I've got a nice looking pair of leather sandals for sale. I'll make you a good offer. Let's say 5000 CFA. What do you say?

To church in new shoes

10:15 am. Everybody is halfway ready to go to church. I put the phone on mute and set my sandals by the front door. As we step out Fiona sees that our dog has dug up half of Kathy’s cornfield. So, my autopilot takes over and I have a serious talk with the brainless K9. I believe her body actually shrank to the size of a walnut during the conversation. But her dirty feet are still giving her away. Eventually, everybody is in the car. We’ve just taken the first turn when I realise that I’m still wearing my house shoes. Of course, I can’t go to church in flip-flops, but we don’t have time to turn around. Just then Kathy sees some shoes by the side of the road. I stop, reverse (almost running over a motorcycle), and try on. Two minutes later I am the new owner of some very African looking sandals. And off we go. I like Africa, when things are simple and uncomplicated.

The heart of the matter

Almost exactly 5 weeks ago, I (Kathy) began taking an antibiotic. It was one I don't remember ever taking before and I was given a large dose of it. I took it in the morning and then again in the evening like I was told to do. That night, I woke up with racing pulse, palpitations and nausea. It really scared me because I had no idea what had started it and what to do about it. I mean, we don't really have an emergency room we can go to. It was frightening, which didn't help the whole situation. Roger--by, I believe, divine guidance--thought of the antibiotic. After reading the paper that went with the med., we figured it must be the culprit. I began drinking and drinking and drinking water and by the time morning came round, was a bit better. We called a friend who recommended a heart clinic here in town. We went there and they did an ECG. By that time my pulse was normal and nothing abnormal showed on the ECG. I still had some restlessness for at least a day and it took a few more to finally start to feel relatively normal. However, I kept having a funny "fluttering" feeling which scared me and took my energy, and went back to the cardiologist. I did the full 24 hr, doppler ECG and the heart sonogram-thingy as well as blood tests. It showed my heart is healthy but that I have an "extra heartbeat". I have had this before (or rather noticed it before, many people have it but never notice it) but stopping caffeine always makes things right again. This time, nothing has helped. Apparently, the drug reaction started it going.

Now I take a medicine to try and calm it down a bit. I have done some internet research to see what other people say about it. I realize it's not something that will go away with medicine and that if I think and worry about it, it'll just be made worse. (Most people were totally consumed by the fatigue and stress brought on when the heart begins "fluttering" and I don't want to be like that, at all!)

It all "brought me to my knees" (actually, I was standing, hanging a very large load of laundry) and I asked God to give me the grace to live with my "thorn in the flesh" that He's given me. I pray daily for Him to show what He wants me to learn from this. I realize that He could take it away entirely, but not until He wants to. I also believe that, for now, He wants me to learn from this. He wants to be made powerful in my weakness. Therefore, I would like to ask each of you to pray with me that I can have the grace to live with this and learn from it. It, as far as the tests showed, is not lethal--no more than driving on the streets here in Togo is--but it may be a long time before I am totally free from this extra heartbeat (PVC) and feeling tired and breathless when it comes on for longer periods of time. It would be all too easy to feel sorry for myself in all this and get stressed about it. I don't want to become like that.

Thanks! (sorry this is so long)

Life is never boring

Sunday, Fiona turned 9 and we had planned a big party. All told, there were 17 kids, from 1 to 11 years old. I think everyone had a good time. There was certainly enough mess for lots of fun to have happened (why is it that good times seem to be messy when kids are involved?). Anyway, during the party, just as I was ready to bring the kids in for an indoor game where there was a/c and we could have a reprieve from the heat and humidity, the electricity went. That, in itself, is relatively common and we thought it would be back in a half hour or so. However, very soon afterwards, someone came to say that a big truck had just passed in front of our house and broken the electric cable, that runs to our house, in two. This was far more serious. Roger headed out to finish connecting our generator. He hadn’t gotten as far as he perhaps thought he had a few weeks ago and ended up working hard for about an hour and a half. He finally got it running at around 5:30-6 ish, just as it was getting dark.

We weren’t sure what to do about sleeping, since we couldn’t run the generator all night and it would get really hot without any electricity. Although Roger, with the help of a French friend—to try and get the real urgency of the message across—had contacted the electricity company right away at about 4pm when it happened, we didn’t expect anyone to come out until Monday or even later. However, by 8pm, they were here repairing the wire. It was lovely to have our electricity back so quickly and was truly a miracle to have it right away. However, it came at a price. They wired it up incorrectly and burned some light fixtures and 1 a/c. Roger got it all sorted and by bedtime, we had electricity and our rooms were cool. Praise God for getting the electric company to come out right away (4 hours later is right away here) and that we have a husband/father who knew what to do to get everything sorted.