A special birthday

He came to live here at the orphanage in April 2008 after a pastor in his village became aware of his situation. His mother had passed away the previous year, and his aging grandma was attempting to care for him and his younger sister. Grandma, however, was unable to deal with an angry, confused boy and his baby sister. The pastor's first encounter with this boy was during church services: the boy would run through the church aisles, kicking the parishioners in the shins during worship. The pastor had heard of this orphanage, and recommended to the grandmother that both children come to us. When it was time to pick them up, it was difficult, because the boy had climbed a tree and would not come down.

At the orphanage, he would run away from his new mama. He would pick fights, and when disciplined, he would kick, scream, and bite. Often, he would do the exact opposite of what was asked of him. He threw things and broke items. He was a handful, for sure. But it soon became apparent that he craved consistency. He needed order, firmness, and love. He needed to know that the boundaries were the same everyday, and that he was not in control. He needed to learn that he was a little boy who could depend on the adults in his life. He was also extremely bright, and he needed to be challenged intellectually, also.

This wild little boy just turned seven years old. For those of us who have watched this angry fella' get to this point in his life, it is a wonder and a joy! Putting the alphabet and phonics together into learning to read was a turning point for him. He reveled in sounding out words for himself, and enjoyed the challenge of mastering sentences. This all made sense to him, and opened up a much bigger world. He is now a happy little boy.

He has come into his own. He is one of the best readers in his class. Often during reading time during school, he has two books open: the one the class is following and the book he has checked out from the library. The reader that the class is reading is not challenging enough for him, so he has another book he is reading simultaneously, careful not to lose his place in the school reader. After class, he tutors a newer classmate, and he reads to his brothers at home.

He is taking piano lessons, too, and is one of the better piano players. He practices diligently everyday. He also loves to play soccer and he is good! He is incredibly fast and makes a great goalie. He hates for a ball to get past him! We keep this guy busy and engaged, as that is when he is happiest. From kicking worshippers to kicking field goals, he has made good progress!

He is a smart boy who has been chosen by God for great things. His constant frown of past years has been replaced by a smile of contentment and confidence. We praise God for bringing him to this place.

Dave

Restoration of Hope

Hard to describe this place...a swamp, a landfill, low cost housing. This is where our hunt for two children led us. We had heard about a boy and his little sister whose parents were killed in February. The parents were doing business in the Ivory Coast, and got caught in a village that experienced fighting between the rebels and the army. War is usually hardest on the young and the old, and here, too, both were affected. An aged grandma now had total responsibility for her two young grandchildren. She could not afford to care for them. This was the swamp where Grandma lived. The pictures say it all. There is no money for clothing, food, and school. There is a whole community out here, living in tin and thatch shacks on stilts. Amazing!

So we met the children: a boy five years old and a girl, three years old. They were sweet kids; polite and thin and hungry. Taking them for medical exams, we fed them. Bananas, eggs, and crackers disappeared quickly. Neither child had ever been to school, and the prospects of them attending school while living with Grandma were slim to none.

They came to the orphanage the week before Easter. The boy knew immediately that this place was better than the swamp. His sister was not so sure. But when she was bathed and dressed in a pretty dress and she received shoes and new underwear, things began looking better! She played with brightly colored blocks her first afternoon while her brother joined an impromptu soccer game. That first night, she snuggled in her clean bed with her own new baby doll. Yes, this might be O.K. after all!

Now, a week later, the boy is attending school. He is learning the alphabet and how to print letters. He is learning the words to songs and finger plays. His sister is learning that there will be food again in a few hours, so she does not need to scarf everything on her plate in two minutes flat! They both have energy to run, a sparkle in their eyes, and a joy in their faces that was missing that first time we met them.

These children now have hope for a future.

We think it is fitting that they arrived Easter week, as that is the time we celebrate the restoration of hope that has been made available to us also. We have been reminded that we were picked up out of our personal "swamp" of hopelessness and separation from the Father, and brought to a safe place of joy and security with a restored eternal relationship. Easter is officially over for another year, but we do wish you the peace and hope that Easter symbolizes every day.

Blessings to you all!

Dave & Babs

Do You Know the Way to Sanniquellie?

We met Tony about three weeks ago. He had called us after hearing about the work done here. Tony works for a NGO that works in remote areas of Liberia. His organization works to prevent child abuse, promote education, and they set up day care facilities for children while the parents are out working on the farm. Tony is focused on their objectives, but like us, he sees so much more that needs to be done. Tony is a concerned Liberian with a heart for his people. In the town where they have set up office, there are many orphaned children. The road that leads there is very rough. When there are medical emergencies, there is no way to get people out to a hospital quickly. Many women (and babies) die during childbirth.

While Tony was working on his office in February, a young lady with a three month old child came up to Tony, asking for money. She offered to clean his office, haul water, or cook for him; anything to try to earn a little money to buy food for her and her baby. Every time she would pass by, she would talk with Tony and proudly show off her baby. Tony would give her a little money from time to time.

In March, Tony heard of a girl who had been bitten by a snake on her way back from the farm. She had died within hours of being bitten. Later, Tony discovered it was the same girl who had stopped by to talk to him on many occasions. Now, her baby daughter was another orphan added to the thousands of orphans in this country. Tony began looking for someone that could take care of this child. Who would be this child's advocate and caretaker? How would this child grow up well and healthy in a place where everyone had too many children of their own to sustain? Tony went looking for someone who would be the answer to these questions and he was pointed in our direction.

After meeting with Tony, Dave asked Babs how she would feel about driving six hours to go see this child , and what day would work to make a trip up there. The baby was located in the most northeastern point of Liberia, close to the Ivory Coast border. Monday would not work: the kitchen was out of rice and powdered milk, so a grocery run was needed. Tuesday was out, as there were physicals scheduled on three prospective new children from Monrovia. Wednesday was not going to work as generator oil needed changing plus a myriad of other items needed attention. O.K., Thursday was the day.

However, Thursday morning everyone at the village had "important"needs that needed to be dealt with, and so it was 10:30 am before we were going down the road. Not a problem; even if it took us seven hours, we would be there by dark.

We picked up Tony up at his office in Gbarnga, which looked about half way on the map. We had been traveling for four hours. As soon as we left Gbarnga, the roads deteriorated considerable. When we got through a town called Sanniquellie, it was getting dark. Not a good thing. We had been traveling a total of seven hours now.

An hour later, it was very dark and we were on a road that had an unspoken speed limit of 5-10 mph. Rocks, crevices, mud holes, narrow wood bridges, oh my. After going through mud hole after mud hole, one can get a little complacent, and then you drop into one where the muddy water rolls over the top of the hood. That wakes you up! At this point, Dave was not asking Tony how much further, because he had heard "about one more hour to go" several hours ago. When we went through areas where the brush had completely covered the road overhead, it seemed as though the head lights dimmed as the light was soaked up in the darkness. The noise of the crickets, frogs, and multitude of various other insects and creatures became so loud, we found ourselves talking louder in the car to be heard over the noise. Babs was sure she heard raptors in the distance, and she kept waiting for a T-Rex to appear. (Did anyone else see "Jurassic Park"? ) About this time, Babs asked Tony if he is sure we are on the correct road. Tony replied to Babs, "I told you it was far". Dave just kept driving.

When we reached the village where Tony's regional office was located, it was well after 8pm. We were given a lighted room with a mattress on the floor. To Babs' chagrin, the latrine was about seventy five yards away from the house. We were given hot water in a bucket for a bath that was much welcomed after ten hours on the road. (What happened to six hours!?!) We were informed that the generator would go off after 11pm.

While sitting in the yard of Tony's office, some brave girls sneaked up to our circle of chairs to get a closer look at the white people. They brought their bench and sat nearby. They were scared of us. It was explained that they had seen white men before but had never seen a white woman (and now one with red hair!) After a while, Dave motioned for one of the little girls to come over to him. The three older ones pushed the youngest out front; she advanced toward him with great caution until she got within an arm's reach. Dave pulled her onto his lap. After a few minutes she relaxed and fell asleep. Now the other girls were envious.

The next morning we were up at seven. Bath water had once again been prepared. Dave had to escort Babs to the latrine. After he got her there, he thought his work was done so Dave returned to the circle of chairs where many of the world's problems had been solved the night before, only to find out that Babs was having trouble with the latch on the bathroom. Walking back to the latrine to fix this door problem, Babs pointed out to Dave that the whole village was watching. That Babs exaggerates so! Except, sure enough! the whole village had lined up their chairs and benches to face the yard where the white people were staying. Dave told Babs she better make it work this time or all of northeastern Liberia would think that white women had problems going to the bathroom!

By 8:30 am we were doing child assessments with the town officials looking on. One place we visited is one of the oldest missions in the country. It was built over a hundred years ago. This was a very beautiful site with houses and a school that had been built well, but now suffered from years of neglect. We saw several needy children. By 11 am, we were done doing assessments and bouncing our way back to Monrovia.

Back through the water, dust, sludge, rock, ruts and pot holes. A nine hour trip home (NOT six hours!). The next day our bodies reminded us that sitting in the same seat for nine bone jarring hours is not easy. Then there is the thought of the paper work, and hassles of getting good medical exams on the children, and then more paperwork.... If we pursue these children, it will mean at least two more trips to this village, and the adventure aspect will diminish expediently with each trip.

But the lives of children are at stake here so we will try to make time for this adventure again, soon. We just feel bad for our car. It needs some work before we can do the next trip. It, too, is not as young as it once was!

Dave & Babs

Taxi "Wisdom..."

Taxis are often interesting sources of entertainment.
Here are some sayings on car bumpers you will probably never see in the USA.

Breakfast With Ofelia

I had breakfast with Ofelia today. Ofelia is a day student who attends the school we have at the village.

In order to have full classes, we take in community children who would not have an opportunity to attend school otherwise. Free public education here is not free: there are student fees, and uniforms to purchase, and school supplies. Plus, all students are required to wear shoes to school. Sometimes, this final requirement is enough to keep a child from attending school, as after purchasing uniforms and supplies, there is no money for shoes.

At our school, we do not charge fees, and we provide uniforms and all school supplies.

We do ask that the parents provide shoes for the students. And we do require the students attend school when it rains. It seems that in most Liberian schools, attendance is optional when it is raining! Apparently, it is perfectly acceptable to miss school when the humidity reaches 100%. This makes it difficult for continuity in education as this country receives almost 200 inches of precipitation a year! That makes for A LOT of "rain days".

But Ofelia never misses school. She is in our kindergarten class, and she loves school. She is the first one of her family to attend school. Both her parents cannot read or write. Ofelia is going to break the cycle of illiteracy in her family! Her father tells me that she is up and dressed for school by 6:30 am, because she does not want to be late. She is at the village gate at 7:30 am. A guard walks her and the other day students to the dining hall for breakfast. We feed the day students breakfast and lunch.

Dave supervises breakfast

Ofelia loves breakfast. She eats pancakes, or muffins, or a bowl of hot cereal with gusto. When Ofelia first began coming to our school, she looked thin and tired. Now, her eyes shine and her hair has a good color to it. Ofelia has put on some weight and looks healthy.

And I had breakfast with her today. Ofelia sat primly at the table. She shook her cloth napkin out and carefully spread it across her lap. She used her utensils neatly and with confidence. What a difference from the first time a year ago, when she looked at the fork and spoon and knife in amazement and wondered what to do with the napkin. In her world, sleeves were for wiping mouths and fingers were for shoveling in food! This morning, she deftly held her fork, and eating like a little lady came naturally to her.

Pancakes are enjoyed

I sipped tea and asked her about her night. She politely answered me. After breakfast, she carried the dishes to the kitchen window and washed her hands at the sink. She looked happy and content. Today, she told me, they were going to learn about the letter U. And probably color a picture. It was time for school assembly, and with a little wave and a sweet smile, she was off to the great halls of academia.

Ofelia

As I finished my tea, it occurred to me that Ofelia is a good reason to be here, in this place, doing this work. Someday, Ofelia might be a research doctor and develop a vaccine to prevent malaria; or maybe she will be a judge and make honest, fair decisions for Liberia. She could be a mother who will read to her children and teach them to read and write. Hey, maybe she will become a scientist and discover a mascara that does not smear in high humidity conditions! That would be awesome! Oh, the possibilities are endless and it is a big world out there! With education comes hope and a future. And now Ofelia has both.

Wishing you a wonderful day, filled with hope and promise.

Babs

Note: in these pictures, the tailors have not finished making all the school uniforms yet.That is why most of the day students are wearing regular clothes instead of uniforms.

Decoration Day

The cathedral was packed. It was standing room only for the funeral of the Bishop. A large choir made up from several different congregations throughout Monrovia sang "The Hallelujah Chorus" and also a beautiful rendition of the Twenty Third Psalm. As it was an Episcopalian service, this was high worship: incense was smoking; Mass served to all; several long processionals; robes, tassels, hats, and uniforms; responsive readings and great hymns sung by the congregation. Pastors from different denominations participated. Many dignitaries were in attendance, as was the President of Liberia.The service lasted for five and a half hours. Yes, five and a half hours!

The Bishop died in January, in the States, after a short illness. His body was flown back to Liberia, and about a month after his passing, this "celebration for his peaceful home-going" was held.

After the hundreds of people spilled out of the cathedral, the crowd took to the street. The parade of humanity surrounded the hearse as it inched down the avenue. The people stayed with the hearse for several blocks, and then the body was driven on hour out of Monrovia, to a church-owned cemetery for the Bishop's final resting place. It was a magnificent send-off for a man who had lived a full life of service to the Lord.

Death here, is a regular occurrence. Yesterday, at a local hospital, in a ward of seven beds, two young children died two hours apart. Right now, as I write this, we hear wailing coming from a neighboring village; someone just died. This past week, two employees attended funerals of relatives: a groundsman's cousin was buried, and a mama's aunt died. Both of these people were buried within 24 hours, as those funerals took place in the bush. No mortuary was involved, and so then there is no way to keep the body from decomposing quickly. For this reason, burial is usually done soon. It occurred to me as we sat in the grand sanctuary of that impressive cathedral, attending the Bishop's funeral, what a contrast this event was to most funerals in Liberia.

Often times, in a village, there are tombstones right next to the huts. The tombs are really monuments and there are graves scattered throughout the jungle. Most every village has a few tombs tucked nearby. We have seen the tomb of a beloved school principal right in the middle of the school playground, and we have observed a tomb three feet from the front door of a stick hut in the bush. There does not seem to be zoning laws for cemeteries or burial plots! It seems that if you own the land, you can bury your loved ones.

Next month, it will be Decoration Day. Prior to the holiday, people will clean up the grave sites. Weeds will be cut or pulled; crypts will be painted bright colors; flowers planted nearby. And then families will come to visit the graves on Decoration Day. They might stay for a short visit, or some families might have a picnic there at the grave, lasting for hours. On Decoration Day, the dead are remembered and mourned again.

"Quick, Robin! To the Bat Mobile"

We have seen many interesting sites here in Liberia, but one of the creepiest things we have seen is the "Bat Tree."

This is a tree in downtown Monrovia that is home to thousands of bats. These are not cute little bats that are the models for cuddly stuffed animals, but the big nasty vampire ones that look like they could suck a person dry in a few minutes (OK, maybe that came from too many late night thriller movies, but these guys are creepy!)

Our first experience with the Bat Tree was a trip to Waterside Market. Julie and I were walking down the sidewalk, and we looked up to watch a large flock of crows swarming overhead. Only they were not crows! Yikes! Hundreds of huge bats flying through the air. Something had apparently spooked them, and they left the tree to fly around downtown Monrovia in the middle of the day and scare innocent, unsuspecting white women out fabric shopping!

A gentleman pointed out the Bat Tree to us, and sure enough, the large dead tree was covered with what looked like large dead leaves...except that these "leaves" would spread their big ugly wings every now and then and fly away. They would soar around the tree and land in a new spot, and return to hanging upside down. I wondered why the bats just leave and fly a little bit and then return to hang out. I wondered if it was kind of like us walking around on an airplane trip, to prevent embolisms and leg swelling. Just a random thought!

We finally got some interesting pictures of the Bat Tree (via son-in-law Robert's very nice camera!) and thought you all might like to see what bats do for fun here (besides scaring white women). The pictures also make a good case for dead tree removal!

Have a good day!

Babs