Jake doesn't fit in a Baka house

 

 

Our friend Jake doesn’t fit inside a Baka house. Taking a look at the picture I’m sure you can understand why. I’m sure Jake could bend and fold a little to get in there and visit with the family for a while but eventually he’d be pretty uncomfortable. ….

I wrote the first draft of this blog a few years back when I was feeling pretty uncomfortable myself. I had a lot of pain and uneasy feelings. I thought I understood the cause to be simple change in my life: kids leaving, mission changing, friends hurting and so on. But the other day I read an entry in a website called, “A Life Overseas” and it clearly described and gave a name to what I have been going through for quite some time now.

Culture Pain and Culture Stripping

Culture pain is when you have spent enough time in the host culture to consider it a home and are therefore deeply affected by people who live there and events that take place there.

Culture stripping is after culture shock, after the settling in, after the acceptance and adaptation. It is what happens when you are invested in the second culture and you still don’t quite fit in but have changed so you don’t fit in your previous culture either. Understanding this reality helped me be more free to write the following. …

So, to re-cap….Jake could turn himself into a pretzel and stay a while to visit but eventually he’d be in pain. That is what has been happening to me since pieces of my heart started scattering all over the world – pain. (Yep, I am partly writing this to make my kids feel guilty about growing up and leaving home. But that is not all. I’ve made friends now that are all over the world and sometimes missing them causes that pain too).

I used to fit just fine here on this warm, strange continent with my family all tucked in around me. I knew what I was to do and learned how to make it happen. I made new friends and they became important to me. It hasn’t always gone perfectly. Some pieces of me have been broken along the way. However, I knew how I fit here. Anyone that has known me longer than 10 minutes knows that me and kids go together. ( I subbed in the Grade 3/4 class just yesterday.) So as these days of young ones in my everyday life keep getting shorter and shorter in number God is having to reshape me. Sometimes it hurts. Sometimes I fall apart. I have been broken as my children have left home and gone oh so far away. Nobody warned me about how much this would hurt. Nobody warned me about how it would redefine me.

This season of my life happened to coincide with a season of other sources of pain and I couldn’t describe then what I know now about fitting or not fitting in any culture. Pieces of me have also broken as I simply go through life here interacting with people under intense circumstances. Nothing in my personal upbringing prepared me to see children hungry because their parent simply cannot work enough to earn sufficient money. Nothing prepared me for so much disease (not even being the daughter of an ER nurse and knowing that hospitals are full of sick people). And nothing, absolutely nothing, could prepare me to learn that my Cameroonian brothers and sisters’ families are forced out of their homes, due to armed conflict, into snake infested bush with little or no protection from rain or sun. Or perhaps they somehow made their way to another city to arrive at their relative’s homes for shelter (bursting the walls of the home made for 8 that now must hold 17).

And another thing that has caused a bit of broken pieces and falling apart, nobody warned me that after 20 + years on the mission field we would experience loss and grief with our colleagues. (They warned us that we might not get along with them but they didn’t tell us about the bonding and consequent breaking that would happen). People come and go frequently now. The school we love has had to change with the changing circumstances of the missions we serve. The mission organization we have been devoted to has also had to change with the times. And simply being here has changed and shaped me. I don’t drive the way I used to (good or bad – jury is still out!). I don’t eat like I used to. I don’t speak like I used to. But, so what? People change. Well even through all that’s happened, all I’ve learned, I still don’t fit in here. And because of so many changes, so much time away, I don’t fit in where I came from either. I love both places, both groups of people. I would sacrifice myself for any of the ones I know and yet, neither group fully connects with me anymore. Culturally Stripped.

So what now? Do I just accept that I will live in the in between forever and feel lost? Do I go “home” and start over to reconnect with loved ones? Can I thrive again in either location? Maybe. Probably getting all broken like this has brought me closer to the heart of Jesus and that is a good thing.

God has been reshaping me, bending me and sometimes allowing brokenness for me to be fitted into the spaces He has planned for me. I think I’m learning that.

I sit and think about the image of Jake visiting the Baka. It was just that, a VISIT. We Christians, like Jake, and like Jesus, are visiting this sphere we call home but really, we are being fitted, shaped, bent, broken, re-made to be with our Father forever.

Meanwhile I will stay culturally stripped, a global nomad, a wanderer following God and my children around this globe – between however many cultures that takes me through.

A "Never Ending" Story (emojis are fun)

One day an unsuspecting mama👩 was walking in the woods🌳, along the side of a mountain in Tennessee or Georgia where the two states collide. As God had planned she slipped that day. It was so strange; she rarely fell while out walking; it was even stranger that no part of her body was injured save a place on her hand✋ that was scratched.

As the hours passed after returning from the walk🚶, however, her shoulder began to hurt – more and more. The homeopathic remedies that she had taken many times before, for bumps, bruises and the like, were not effective against this pain. She reached out to her friend who also treats injury and illness with homeopathic remedies to see if she had a different or more potent remedy. The mama’s friend 👩provided some help but also suggested she go to see the chiropractor in the morning.

The next day the pain was just as severe so off to the doctor 🩺she went. By the time she arrived the mama could barely lift her arm and grasp a pen✎ to fill in the required forms📎.

To move the story along let’s jump to the end results of that introduction to the work of a chiropractor. One little slip in the woods 🌳created an incredible chain⛓ of events. It is not often that one can trace such a God ordained event.

The mama returned to her home in Africa🌍, healing from the previously dislocated shoulder, and sought further care to complete the treatment begun in the States two weeks earlier. She found Dr. Eric, an internationally trained specialist of multiple areas of medicine and learned about the immense potential for healing that this doctor, gifted by God, could offer. And the chain of events started:

• Dr. Eric confirmed that her shoulder was still correctly aligned and she began the process of getting treatment to correct the damage that occurred to her spine, years earlier, as a younger mama.

• She brought her friend in to begin treatment for a severely painful condition for which others had said she needed to have surgery😟 outside of the country.

• Because of the mama’s recommendation, another friend sent her own friend to Dr. Eric's to begin treatment for long standing, debilitating pain😧 and now she uses him as a primary care physician.

• Mama brought another friend for help.👩

• And a colleague👨

• And another friend👩

• And has encouraged many others to go.👨👩

• Learning that Dr. Eric’s wife 👰was traveling led to conversations about COVID testing and she learned that there was another option, a lab, to get the testing done rather than the busy, unpredictable location most people use in town. This paved the way for a family that needed to evacuate to the States because of a medical condition.The chiropractor called his connection with the lab and the technician came directly to the hospital🏥 room where the sick little girl 👧was waiting with her family to get the tests done.

• And, most recently, the mama recommended another friend👩 take her husband👨, suffering from intense headaches to Dr. Eric.

How many more people👩👪👨 will God bring in this story starting from a slip in the woods?🌳

The Journey of a Bible

Welcome to Bob’s basement. Of all the things you would normally find in one’s basement I bet you’d never expect these supplies and small machines.

 

Now, travel back with me to an out of the way place, Sorombeo, in the North East of Cameroon. In 1978 Ed and Ginny Ubels  came to begin working to put the Word of God into the local language, Karang. God directed their path to another place but in 1991 He brought the Ulfers family. Bob and Yezmin lived, learned and worked, along with their 3 kids, among the Karang people for nearly 30 years. They were able to stay, in part, because Rain Forest International School , also established in 1991, was built to serve missionary families so they could focus on their project and trust that their kids would get a great education preparing them for returning to their passport countries.

Kevin and I arrived in Cameroon just a couple years after the Ulfers to begin our work in education at RFIS. Kevin enjoyed teaching the Ulfers kids. Hmmm, I wonder how many students have passed through the doors of RFIS since 1993. Over the years Kevin and I have collected copies of the New Testaments that have been completed by families that we have served. It is a beautiful collection. However, neither of us have ever been able to help transport any finished scriptures to the local people. We’ve seen a dedication ceremony or two but never been the carrier…. Until last summer.  

 

I picked up a suitcase filled with Bibles from the Ulfers' home.

Back to Bob’s basement: Not many translators would attempt to print the Book they’ve been working on but Bob wanted to. He has made many Chapel Copies to be sent back to Cameroon for the churches.  He actually has half of Blacksburg, VA involved in this project!

 

A printer in town helps create the pages.

Bob buys used, old text books to make the covers.

 

 

Dental floss is the thread of choice to hold the pages in.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Obviously Not in Bob's basement anymore..

I brought it to Yaounde and others take it from there.

 

 

ARRIVAL! You can see Bob's amazing packing job here (Book in plastic bag, bags in trash bag, trash bag in suitcase, ready for the long, sometimes moist, haul to the village.

 

 

Sharing the Word

 

 

Notice the red cross on the cover of the Bible. That particular color was chosen to symbolize Ironwood, a type of tree found in the area. It so happens that this tree cannot be destroyed by fire or termites. Its use in traditions connected with their chiefs are incredibly complex and clearly put in place by God to help the people accept the One and only True God. One example of the traditions stands out. When a chief dies the people must seek out a new one. The elders go to an unrelated clan and invite an unsuspecting “guest” to join them for a celebration. He is then “arrested” and begins to realize what is going on. He must willingly endure a period of suffering while sitting on the ironwood throne. If he rises he is rejected. If he remains on the throne throughout the time he is hit, spat on, insulted and generally mistreated he becomes their new leader: their chief. Whatever he says must be obeyed from then on.

 

 

A Blog is so Much More Fun than a Letter to Partners

While many of you are suffering in the cold (I am sorry for that) I have been preparing my yard for rainy season. And since we have been quarantined again due to virus cases in the community I've had extra time at home and avoided a few meetings. No complaints there. :) A week ago the whole world here was dusty and dry. Then a tiny rain came, and another even tinier. So, there is a little bit of green now. I’ve been watering the potted plants every day (most days twice) and watering certain areas of the yard to keep things growing, like my mint. I’ve also been cutting back the grass roots to make the yard easier to mow when the water starts to make it grow like mad.

Enjoy the pictures.

New curve instead of corner to help with mowing. And, when the rains start a new rose bush will go in the middle.

 

The tiny bit of green grass coming

Aloe Vera to the left and leeks and spring onions to the right.

I can't move the pictures around very easily but following are: random flowers, new parsley and celery, in the bowl are Thai Basil and New Zealand spinach, and mint along the wall. 

The tin propped up is a guard to the small herbs so doggie feet don't trample them. 

Also, are more images of how I've tried to simplify the yard.

Kribi in photos

 

This larger than life sized character and his mate (not pictured) are here to welcome you back from the beach into the hotel. Pictured below is their view of the beach and the extensive boardwalk to lead you to the sand.

Quite a view, isn't it! As you go across this lounging area, about halfway down, you'll notice a bit of disrepair. Then, to actually get down to the sand, the steps are, well, in need of modification. Certainly would never return with small children!

 

Our room was a tight squeeze. Yes, that is breakfast on the bed. But we weren't there for the room of course!

Proof we were there. ha ha

The twins played a lot of volleyball with our friends while we were there. Had to wait for the tide to be out, however. And below, Muz is liven' the good life, watching the games.

Hope you have enjoyed my picture album.

To Kribi: 2020

 

What A God We Serve

A vacation planned by God.

I needed to get away. God knows how much I needed to SEE other places and HEAR other sounds. So, He planned a family getaway.

Needed: a little extra cash to pay for it all – done in November

                a vehicle worthy of the trip -  done  early in December

               someone to care for our dogs in our absence – this was no easy task, since the dogs cannot be together any more, so the caretaker needed to be willing to be at our house for quite a while each time the dogs would need food or to get outside. A young new missionary was willing to help, and stay here some of the nights!
            
                another missionary friend to make the journey with …This is where the story gets interesting. Due to some difficult driving experiences in the past and our relative lack of French, we are far more comfortable driving in caravan with someone when we travel outside of Yaounde. When I found out that some families were going on vacation at the time we could also go I asked if we could tag along for the driving. Funny thing is, they’ve had similar bad experiences like us, but in reverse: our troubles happened while traveling alone, theirs while traveling with a caravan. So, when we asked them about driving together, they all said, “No, we are going to travel independently.”  Now at that point, I thought we were going on the same day and proceeded to make our plans because at least we knew that someone else that we knew would be on the road not too far away if we ran into trouble. But I couldn’t find a place to stay near where I thought they were going to be. Funny thing is, they were staying in a completely different area than where I was looking! In the meantime, another family was thinking of a vacation too. They knew the places down at Kribi far better than we and actually took the last room available at the location near the other friends!  But, funny thing is this couple was  more than happy to do the drive in tandem. They made a suggestion of a hotel not far from the group and we booked a room! (and considering we took the room sight unseen, it wasn't a bad choice) 

                The drive began on Tuesday morning and away we went with God and our friends. Our friends led the way. Though we know how to get there, it is the events along the route that get us all worked up. I know it is not a nice thing to say but THEY got stopped at the speed trap and we drove through. (This "speed trap" is a whole other story so just accept my statement as is and move on!) Then we were together again at the town mid way through the drive where most stop for gas and a little stretch break. We went separate ways to get our different choices for lunch and met them on the outskirts of town to get on the road again for the final part of the trip. Not far out of town we were both stopped by a ‘security’ check. (You never know, really, what the checks are there for. Some are police, some are speed, some are legitimate security – like asking for the emergency road supplies that all vehicles are required by law to carry.) Our friends were done in about 2 seconds but the officials wanted to inquire about us a bit longer. But we were soon free of them and on our way again. One thing that the people at that check were attempting to communicate to people is that the road ahead was dangerous with huge holes. Funny thing is, we are pretty sure one of those holes was the cause of our next God event. Our left front tire blew out. Shredded.

 Yes, we had a spare. But in this unfamiliar car we knew we were gonna be working on that for a WHILE. But God said, “No, remember, I arranged this trip with capable friends.” We called them; they turned around and came to the rescue. They could access their jack immediately; ours was buried. 

 

They have plenty of experience changing tires; us, only a little. The guy under the car is our friend's son.

 

 We stopped right in front of this building that happened to have a pile of cement rubble that was just what we needed to raise the truck so their jack would fit. 

 

We happened to stop right where a couple of young strong men were standing near the road, available to help us. One of them is in the picture above. I think we were back on the road in about 20 minutes and drove slow to the gas station not too far down the road to balance the air in the tires. We also weren’t too far from the outskirts of Kribi, where our hotel was. 

 

 

 

So, we arrived in the middle of the afternoon, settled in and went and found all our friends! 

                  Yes, Muz, that beautiful big dog belongs to one of our friends!