A lot of reconstruction/renovation work is being done at some of the major sites. I tried to avoid any shots that included too much scaffolding.
Sunday, June 15, 2008
Athens, Greece
A lot of reconstruction/renovation work is being done at some of the major sites. I tried to avoid any shots that included too much scaffolding.
Chocolate
The all-time highlight of our entire time in Greece and Rome was nothing that involved tourism. It involved music ... music as smooth as chocolate.
How I miss good music. Live music of any sort. Even being able to hear an accordion player on the street was a thrill. But this ... was ... phenomenal.
We got two of the last few tickets for a sold out concert in the largest concert hall in all of Europe -- The Auditorium Parco della Musica, Sala Santa Cecilia. We heard the Orchestra dell'accademia Nazionale di Santa Cecilia, founded in 1585! The entire program was Spanish music, therefore two of the four pieces featured a guitarist playing concertos -- Pepe Romero. He was Jim's favorite part.
My favorite part began when the oboe played the "A" for tuning. I started crying as the whole orchestra started tuning and I didn't regain control until about 10 minutes into the first piece. I don't know what my neighbors thought and I certainly couldn't understand anything that they might have later said (we were the only non-Italian speakers in the entire parco!) but that didn't worry me. The opening note of the string section was unbelievable. I've never heard strings play in such unity, each section sounding as one instrument. And that's when I thought "chocolate" -- that's the only word to describe this sound.
I will carry the memory of that opening measure with me forever ... or at least until I hear even more heavenly music upon leaving earth!
How I miss good music. Live music of any sort. Even being able to hear an accordion player on the street was a thrill. But this ... was ... phenomenal.
We got two of the last few tickets for a sold out concert in the largest concert hall in all of Europe -- The Auditorium Parco della Musica, Sala Santa Cecilia. We heard the Orchestra dell'accademia Nazionale di Santa Cecilia, founded in 1585! The entire program was Spanish music, therefore two of the four pieces featured a guitarist playing concertos -- Pepe Romero. He was Jim's favorite part.
My favorite part began when the oboe played the "A" for tuning. I started crying as the whole orchestra started tuning and I didn't regain control until about 10 minutes into the first piece. I don't know what my neighbors thought and I certainly couldn't understand anything that they might have later said (we were the only non-Italian speakers in the entire parco!) but that didn't worry me. The opening note of the string section was unbelievable. I've never heard strings play in such unity, each section sounding as one instrument. And that's when I thought "chocolate" -- that's the only word to describe this sound.
I will carry the memory of that opening measure with me forever ... or at least until I hear even more heavenly music upon leaving earth!
A-Door-ing Greece
We're back from a fabulous 2 week vacation in Greece and Rome. This is the first in a series of blogs that I'll try to load in the next couple of days. (Even this one has to be in two parts due to the time it takes to load this!)
We took a 7-day cruise through the Greek Isles. I wish I could say "fantastically, overwhelmingly amazing" in Greek!
I fell in love with their doors and started a door "collection" -- I'll share a few here. In many of the towns, the houses are all white-washed. The unique entries
are the only way that the owners can "speak" of the individuality of the people within. Stunning!
We took a 7-day cruise through the Greek Isles. I wish I could say "fantastically, overwhelmingly amazing" in Greek!
I fell in love with their doors and started a door "collection" -- I'll share a few here. In many of the towns, the houses are all white-washed. The unique entries
are the only way that the owners can "speak" of the individuality of the people within. Stunning!
Friday, May 16, 2008
The Tragedies Behind the Tragedies
Another pipeline fire was in the news recently. Many of you heard of it, I'm sure. What you would not hear are the pathetic details that accompany each news event here. So, I'll fill in the blanks for you ... at least a bit.
We are fine. The fire was on the mainland in Lagos and we are on the little islands of Victoria and Ikoyi, just south and east of the mainland. (Our world is small, indeed! About 5 kms from north end to south end!) The majority of the 18 million who live in Lagos live on the mainland.
A contractor was digging with heavy equipment without any knowledge of a gas/fuel pipeline in the area.
The pipe was damaged and fuel starting spilling out everywhere. For about 3 hours the neighbors grabbed anything resembling a container and hauled escaping fuel away!
There was a school nearby and reports are that the teachers told the children to remain inside to stay safe.
Reports vary on this part but ... something, possibly an okada (motor cycle) that drove into the area, ignited the gas and suddenly explosions and fire abounded.
Somewhere around 3 hours into the fire episode, reports are that some fire trucks arrived on the scene. 7 of them, even. But only two of the trucks had any water. The other five were there to impress. Mmmmmmmm ... At last report, the fire is still burning. Fuel fires are tough to control at the source. Burning buildings require more than a couple of gallons of water to be contained.
Reports again vary but 100 to 200 people are dead and many are in hospital (the British way to say "in the hospital"). Somewhere around 90 of the dead are the school children that were told to stay indoors to keep "safe." My driver heard that they died from the smoke.
Truth will never fully be discovered in this situation. Innocent people might be charged with crimes. In order to appease the neighbor people, the parents, the many who are shouting their anger in the streets ... the police often grab a few people from somewhere unknown, shoot them, and display their bodies as proof that the "guilty" have been avenged.
The value of a human life is seen differently here. Locals see dead bodies somewhere almost every day. They grieve ... but not much. Even for family members, there is very little grief and a lot of actual partying at the burials. (It's more like a reaction you would expect from followers of Jesus who only see their loss of a loved one as very temporary and rejoice that their loved one is worshiping the Lamb of God in person!)
There's a building that collapsed a couple of years ago near the airport. Bodies are still inside. No work has been done to clean up the mess. There was a car that burned on the highway near the turn off to our beach hut. We saw it a few weeks ago for the first time. Jide told us that this was the car in which a "sister" of his died. I think she's more of a cousin. I can't remember all of the details but the car was used as a taxi. The driver did something stupid and the car burst into flames. No one in the taxi survived. The charred remains of the car will be there, on the roadside, for a long time. No one wants to touch it.
So, that gives you a little more accuracy though we'll never know the full truth in these tragedies.
We are fine. The fire was on the mainland in Lagos and we are on the little islands of Victoria and Ikoyi, just south and east of the mainland. (Our world is small, indeed! About 5 kms from north end to south end!) The majority of the 18 million who live in Lagos live on the mainland.
A contractor was digging with heavy equipment without any knowledge of a gas/fuel pipeline in the area.
The pipe was damaged and fuel starting spilling out everywhere. For about 3 hours the neighbors grabbed anything resembling a container and hauled escaping fuel away!
There was a school nearby and reports are that the teachers told the children to remain inside to stay safe.
Reports vary on this part but ... something, possibly an okada (motor cycle) that drove into the area, ignited the gas and suddenly explosions and fire abounded.
Somewhere around 3 hours into the fire episode, reports are that some fire trucks arrived on the scene. 7 of them, even. But only two of the trucks had any water. The other five were there to impress. Mmmmmmmm ... At last report, the fire is still burning. Fuel fires are tough to control at the source. Burning buildings require more than a couple of gallons of water to be contained.
Reports again vary but 100 to 200 people are dead and many are in hospital (the British way to say "in the hospital"). Somewhere around 90 of the dead are the school children that were told to stay indoors to keep "safe." My driver heard that they died from the smoke.
Truth will never fully be discovered in this situation. Innocent people might be charged with crimes. In order to appease the neighbor people, the parents, the many who are shouting their anger in the streets ... the police often grab a few people from somewhere unknown, shoot them, and display their bodies as proof that the "guilty" have been avenged.
The value of a human life is seen differently here. Locals see dead bodies somewhere almost every day. They grieve ... but not much. Even for family members, there is very little grief and a lot of actual partying at the burials. (It's more like a reaction you would expect from followers of Jesus who only see their loss of a loved one as very temporary and rejoice that their loved one is worshiping the Lamb of God in person!)
There's a building that collapsed a couple of years ago near the airport. Bodies are still inside. No work has been done to clean up the mess. There was a car that burned on the highway near the turn off to our beach hut. We saw it a few weeks ago for the first time. Jide told us that this was the car in which a "sister" of his died. I think she's more of a cousin. I can't remember all of the details but the car was used as a taxi. The driver did something stupid and the car burst into flames. No one in the taxi survived. The charred remains of the car will be there, on the roadside, for a long time. No one wants to touch it.
So, that gives you a little more accuracy though we'll never know the full truth in these tragedies.
Tuesday, May 06, 2008
Raindrops on Roses and Whiskers on Kittens
I have a new favorite thing.
Stretched out in the hammock,
suspended between two palm trees,
staring up into the pale blue sky,
viewing the filtered sun through the rustling palm branches,
listening to incredible worship music from Hillsong,
accompanied by God's amazing percussion section --
the incoming waves
thrashing the shore
at our beach hut.
Wow! What a great worship experience. What a great day of rest!
You see, the village children have gotten a bit ... well ... persistent! When these particular oyibos (no skin people) arrive at their beach hut they attract a crowd. We are a bit unusual. (Weird, clueless, suckers, ... are other words that are probably used to describe us!) Our driver and the neighbor boys are invited to play games with us. (Totally unheard of!) The children all get handfuls of sweets. (We need to bring tooth brushes sometime!) We give water to the vendors. (Why would anyone do that?) I buy things I don't need just because they have families to feed. Suckers? ... probably. But we chose to be that way! However, that does increase the distractions during our search for tranquility whenever we take a rare trip to our beach hut alone (well, yes, and the 9 people it takes for us to be there --- which I explained earlier)!
So, I decided that the only way to truly have some peace was to bring my iPod Shuffle.
When I climbed into the hammock to rest a bit I had my ears filled with worship music. And, wow! What a great experience.
I can only imagine that I'm the first human on earth who has listened to Hillsong worship whilst stretching out in a hammock (brought back to us from friends who went home to Venezuela) suspended between two palm trees at a beach hut near Lagos, Nigeria.
We are blessed.
I have so many new favorite things that I could have never imagined prior to this amazing experience called NIGERIA!
God is always good.
Stretched out in the hammock,
suspended between two palm trees,
staring up into the pale blue sky,
viewing the filtered sun through the rustling palm branches,
listening to incredible worship music from Hillsong,
accompanied by God's amazing percussion section --
the incoming waves
thrashing the shore
at our beach hut.
Wow! What a great worship experience. What a great day of rest!
You see, the village children have gotten a bit ... well ... persistent! When these particular oyibos (no skin people) arrive at their beach hut they attract a crowd. We are a bit unusual. (Weird, clueless, suckers, ... are other words that are probably used to describe us!) Our driver and the neighbor boys are invited to play games with us. (Totally unheard of!) The children all get handfuls of sweets. (We need to bring tooth brushes sometime!) We give water to the vendors. (Why would anyone do that?) I buy things I don't need just because they have families to feed. Suckers? ... probably. But we chose to be that way! However, that does increase the distractions during our search for tranquility whenever we take a rare trip to our beach hut alone (well, yes, and the 9 people it takes for us to be there --- which I explained earlier)!
So, I decided that the only way to truly have some peace was to bring my iPod Shuffle.
When I climbed into the hammock to rest a bit I had my ears filled with worship music. And, wow! What a great experience.
I can only imagine that I'm the first human on earth who has listened to Hillsong worship whilst stretching out in a hammock (brought back to us from friends who went home to Venezuela) suspended between two palm trees at a beach hut near Lagos, Nigeria.
We are blessed.
I have so many new favorite things that I could have never imagined prior to this amazing experience called NIGERIA!
God is always good.
Friday, April 18, 2008
A Fine Line Between ...
... love and hate!
A strange phenomenon is occurring around here. In recent weeks we've seen the beginning of the growing exodus of many co-workers and friends. The pace of departures will only increase in the next 3 months as many, many want to leave when school is out.
We all rejoice with those who get their transfer letters. Right now, we live vicariously through their joy!
They move through their day with lighter steps and wider smiles as the real moving day approaches. They start farming out items which they don't want to pack. They websurf to view pictures of their new location and drool. They allow themselves to dream.
But then, when it really comes down to it ... no matter how much they don't want to stay ...
they don't want to leave, either!!
So a dear employee's wife who has really, really, really struggled all the while she was here was actually vomiting the day she left. Another dear friend is confused by her response to her transfer offer. It's just what she's wanted but ... this is familiar, this is where her current support system exists, this life is at least predictable -- even if predictably frustrating!
The farewell parties are on the increase. It's just that I always expected they'd be tough for those of us left behind; I never imagined that those who are leaving would struggle.
In some ways, this place gets to you ... in a good way! When it is our turn to go, we will struggle for certain! I can't imagine never returning to this place ... well, we wouldn't really want to but ... not seeing some of those we'll be leaving behind will be tough.
I still talk with Lucy, our Port Harcourt maid. She's getting married soon and calls for approval and advice (and money ... but we won't give her anymore at this point!) We'll miss Lucy.
And, wow! I can't imagine not visiting with Jide and Michel each day ... talking politics, talking commerce, talking environment ... most importantly -- talking about God and how God can influence each aspect in an amazingly positive way! These guys are like family. But, unlike REAL family and longterm friends, I guess I realize that when we go those contacts will drop over time.
Maybe that is why our friends are struggling with leaving. Because as much as we all say we'll stay in touch ... it's never the same. We have friends to visit on every continent, now! But ... will we ever really visit them?
That's what makes this whole thing difficult. What has become familiar is shifting toward unfamiliar again. And this point in time and this point on the globe where we have all met -- this volatile time in Nigeria's ever-turbulent history ... it might be a place that generates a lot of angst and even hatred but it is, after all, the place we have tried to make feel like home.
A strange phenomenon is occurring around here. In recent weeks we've seen the beginning of the growing exodus of many co-workers and friends. The pace of departures will only increase in the next 3 months as many, many want to leave when school is out.
We all rejoice with those who get their transfer letters. Right now, we live vicariously through their joy!
They move through their day with lighter steps and wider smiles as the real moving day approaches. They start farming out items which they don't want to pack. They websurf to view pictures of their new location and drool. They allow themselves to dream.
But then, when it really comes down to it ... no matter how much they don't want to stay ...
they don't want to leave, either!!
So a dear employee's wife who has really, really, really struggled all the while she was here was actually vomiting the day she left. Another dear friend is confused by her response to her transfer offer. It's just what she's wanted but ... this is familiar, this is where her current support system exists, this life is at least predictable -- even if predictably frustrating!
The farewell parties are on the increase. It's just that I always expected they'd be tough for those of us left behind; I never imagined that those who are leaving would struggle.
In some ways, this place gets to you ... in a good way! When it is our turn to go, we will struggle for certain! I can't imagine never returning to this place ... well, we wouldn't really want to but ... not seeing some of those we'll be leaving behind will be tough.
I still talk with Lucy, our Port Harcourt maid. She's getting married soon and calls for approval and advice (and money ... but we won't give her anymore at this point!) We'll miss Lucy.
And, wow! I can't imagine not visiting with Jide and Michel each day ... talking politics, talking commerce, talking environment ... most importantly -- talking about God and how God can influence each aspect in an amazingly positive way! These guys are like family. But, unlike REAL family and longterm friends, I guess I realize that when we go those contacts will drop over time.
Maybe that is why our friends are struggling with leaving. Because as much as we all say we'll stay in touch ... it's never the same. We have friends to visit on every continent, now! But ... will we ever really visit them?
That's what makes this whole thing difficult. What has become familiar is shifting toward unfamiliar again. And this point in time and this point on the globe where we have all met -- this volatile time in Nigeria's ever-turbulent history ... it might be a place that generates a lot of angst and even hatred but it is, after all, the place we have tried to make feel like home.
Thursday, April 03, 2008
Culture (After)shocks
There are days, even after being here more than two years, when I am still shocked by something I see or hear in this amazing place. My general response is to silently shake my head as it hangs in dismay. Of course, there are situations in which I can only "shake my head on the inside" if you know what I mean -- I can't offend those who considered whatever had just happened to be totally rational, reasonable, civilized, adult, etc.
Recent head-wagging situations include, but are not limited to:
-- the men who don't even turn their backs to the traffic when they "use the facilities" and there are no facilities, only the side of the street
-- the woman who was offended that I didn't bring her a piece of my father's birthday cake (Whenever ex pats travel, the locals with whom we work tend to ask us to bring them "something." "Something" ranges from some chocolates to a laptop or digital camera. I tend to ignore all such requests at this point, having become totally desensitized! This woman did, indeed, ask me to bring her a piece of the cake. I didn't have the energy to explain to her the ridiculousness of the request!)
-- the street "vendors" who were officially kicked off the bridge by the government but who, one day later, are back on the bridge!
-- the tragedy of 40 lives lost in a boat that sunk while transporting villagers to a wedding in a neighboring village. Few Nigerians know how to swim.
-- the most dismaying situation in recent days: Our driver's eldest son is graduating from a mechanic's technical school this weekend. Jide is a serious budgeter who handles what little money he has very well. However, this graduation is costing him over N100,000 (and his monthly base salary is N23,000). The teacher presented him with a list of food items he needs to provide for the ceremony. But, most shocking, he has to have N5,000 in cash with him to "pay for the prayers" at the ceremony. Wow! a step back to the middle ages, indeed! Believe me, we discussed this a long time, yesterday. I told him that NOWHERE in the Bible could any pastor find a verse that would indicate that you have to pay someone cash in order for them to pray for your son! I told him that God must be shaking His head and that it grieves His heart! But Jide said that it's not only at graduations but at any ceremony, including weddings, that the person/pastor who leads in a prayer of blessing must be paid! And ... get this ... at a wedding it is customary for the guests to throw cash on the bridal couple while they dance. Welllllllllllllllllll, all of that money is gathered and counted and a "tithe" of it is COLLECTED by the pastor before it's given to the newlyweds!
So, Saturday, before the appointed person prays for Jide's son, the person will ask the father to begin the contributions with N1,000. Then others will add their cash until the "holy" person is satisfied. Then, Jide's son will be "blessed." It would appear that the only one being blessed is the one getting the cash! Certainly any prayers offered by such a person would bounce back to them from the ceiling.
I can see you ... your heads are shaking as they hang!
Recent head-wagging situations include, but are not limited to:
-- the men who don't even turn their backs to the traffic when they "use the facilities" and there are no facilities, only the side of the street
-- the woman who was offended that I didn't bring her a piece of my father's birthday cake (Whenever ex pats travel, the locals with whom we work tend to ask us to bring them "something." "Something" ranges from some chocolates to a laptop or digital camera. I tend to ignore all such requests at this point, having become totally desensitized! This woman did, indeed, ask me to bring her a piece of the cake. I didn't have the energy to explain to her the ridiculousness of the request!)
-- the street "vendors" who were officially kicked off the bridge by the government but who, one day later, are back on the bridge!
-- the tragedy of 40 lives lost in a boat that sunk while transporting villagers to a wedding in a neighboring village. Few Nigerians know how to swim.
-- the most dismaying situation in recent days: Our driver's eldest son is graduating from a mechanic's technical school this weekend. Jide is a serious budgeter who handles what little money he has very well. However, this graduation is costing him over N100,000 (and his monthly base salary is N23,000). The teacher presented him with a list of food items he needs to provide for the ceremony. But, most shocking, he has to have N5,000 in cash with him to "pay for the prayers" at the ceremony. Wow! a step back to the middle ages, indeed! Believe me, we discussed this a long time, yesterday. I told him that NOWHERE in the Bible could any pastor find a verse that would indicate that you have to pay someone cash in order for them to pray for your son! I told him that God must be shaking His head and that it grieves His heart! But Jide said that it's not only at graduations but at any ceremony, including weddings, that the person/pastor who leads in a prayer of blessing must be paid! And ... get this ... at a wedding it is customary for the guests to throw cash on the bridal couple while they dance. Welllllllllllllllllll, all of that money is gathered and counted and a "tithe" of it is COLLECTED by the pastor before it's given to the newlyweds!
So, Saturday, before the appointed person prays for Jide's son, the person will ask the father to begin the contributions with N1,000. Then others will add their cash until the "holy" person is satisfied. Then, Jide's son will be "blessed." It would appear that the only one being blessed is the one getting the cash! Certainly any prayers offered by such a person would bounce back to them from the ceiling.
I can see you ... your heads are shaking as they hang!
Tuesday, April 01, 2008
It's Been Awhile!
I couldn't blog about this before it happened because I was surprising my dad --- I traveled to Alaska for his 80th birthday!Having just returned a few days ago, I thought a blog entry was long overdue and some of you have been concerned about our status. Not to fear!
Life in Lagos continues. Security issues have become of increasing concern so we're on an early curfew. The steps we've recently gone through with increasing restrictions remind us far too much of our experiences in Port Harcourt. That is not a life we'd like to repeat ...
I hadn't been back in the good ole U.S. of A. since August of '06! It was sweet to land on "home" soil! I just wish that Jim could have accompanied me.
Because I've returned with a whoppin' cold/bug and my energy is low and my work load high, I shant have time to blog much right now.
But allow me to end with a few photos of Dad's birthday celebrations and a comment:
I am so blessed to have a father like my Dad. Other girls say this but it's really true in this case -- I've got the best Dad in the world! His godly character and wisdom is unmatched. His work ethic, servant heart, care for people, ... astounding! It was a joy to spend valuable time with Mom and Dad in the land of ice and snow!
Monday, March 03, 2008
A Personal Gift from the Creator!
God is so very good to us in so many tangible ways.
In recent weeks, we've enjoyed our very own "pet" bird -- cage-less, yet making many close visits.
Not knowing "his" gender, I gave "him" a gender-neutral name, Perch!
Perch made frequent visits and often stayed for hours at a time. Usually, he was most content perching on the end of some recently broken branches on a massive tree just beyond our living room windows. Occasionally, he would actually sit on the balcony edge -- right in front of me yet just beyond my reach.
I'd sit very still on my wooden bench and he'd sit very still on the concrete edging and we'd have a lovely visit.
You might notice that I'm speaking in the past tense.
We're just ending the Harmattan season -- when the dust from the Sahara desert travels across two countries to the ocean's edge. It puts a lot of grime and grit in the air, not to mention our lungs.
But the weather has made a sudden shift this week. (Another gift from the creator -- one evening I could see that a storm was a-brewing when the trees started rustling so I suggested to Jim that we go out on the balcony to watch what would happen. After 6 weeks without a drop of rain ... we had a sudden, brief-but-fantastic deluge! I leaned out over the balcony railing, "Titanic-style," and let the rains soak me. Of course, Jim, being the practical one, suggested that I was being covered in mud because the rain was mixing with the air's dirt! Well, it was a brief, romantic moment! :-) )
So, the next morning the air was clearer and the sky blue-er than it's been since early November. And, since then, ... Perch has not returned.
I look for him every morning before we leave for work. And I keep one eye toward his favorite branch throughout the evening hours. I miss my new little friend. But I am grateful for the gift of wonder and worship that he provided me!
It's connected to something Brian McLaren wrote in A Generous Orthodoxy --
"I feel (not every single moment, but often) that I am carrying around this hilarious secret: that I actually own all things, that all things are mine -- because I am Christ's, ... and God allows me to have things in the way that matters most. Not by having them in my legal possession ... but by having them in my spiritual possession by gratefully seeing them, gratefully knowing and cherishing them."
Even though he may not return, I am still blessed by Perch and the very
personal gift that God 
gave to me for a short season.
In recent weeks, we've enjoyed our very own "pet" bird -- cage-less, yet making many close visits.
Not knowing "his" gender, I gave "him" a gender-neutral name, Perch!
Perch made frequent visits and often stayed for hours at a time. Usually, he was most content perching on the end of some recently broken branches on a massive tree just beyond our living room windows. Occasionally, he would actually sit on the balcony edge -- right in front of me yet just beyond my reach.
I'd sit very still on my wooden bench and he'd sit very still on the concrete edging and we'd have a lovely visit.
You might notice that I'm speaking in the past tense.
We're just ending the Harmattan season -- when the dust from the Sahara desert travels across two countries to the ocean's edge. It puts a lot of grime and grit in the air, not to mention our lungs.
But the weather has made a sudden shift this week. (Another gift from the creator -- one evening I could see that a storm was a-brewing when the trees started rustling so I suggested to Jim that we go out on the balcony to watch what would happen. After 6 weeks without a drop of rain ... we had a sudden, brief-but-fantastic deluge! I leaned out over the balcony railing, "Titanic-style," and let the rains soak me. Of course, Jim, being the practical one, suggested that I was being covered in mud because the rain was mixing with the air's dirt! Well, it was a brief, romantic moment! :-) )
So, the next morning the air was clearer and the sky blue-er than it's been since early November. And, since then, ... Perch has not returned.
I look for him every morning before we leave for work. And I keep one eye toward his favorite branch throughout the evening hours. I miss my new little friend. But I am grateful for the gift of wonder and worship that he provided me!
It's connected to something Brian McLaren wrote in A Generous Orthodoxy --
"I feel (not every single moment, but often) that I am carrying around this hilarious secret: that I actually own all things, that all things are mine -- because I am Christ's, ... and God allows me to have things in the way that matters most. Not by having them in my legal possession ... but by having them in my spiritual possession by gratefully seeing them, gratefully knowing and cherishing them."
Even though he may not return, I am still blessed by Perch and the very
personal gift that God 
gave to me for a short season.
Monday, February 25, 2008
Meet Jide
I've been wanting to write about our amazing driver (in the black shirt) for quite a long time. His name is Jide, short for Olajide. He's a Christian. His wife was Muslim but converted, with the blessing of her family, when Jide wanted to marry her. They have 5 kids ranging in age from 23 to 5. The youngest is their only daughter.
Jide is the oldest child in his family -- a family that includes Jide's father/the patriarch, 3 wives and a kaboodle of daughters (most of them Jide's half sisters as almost all of his sisters have died -- one during childbirth and another to unknown causes, ...) Jide is the only male, which makes him extra dear to his father. Jide's mother is the old man's first wife and the most beloved of the wives. Yes, I've had many long discussions with Jide about polygamy -- isn't one wife enough to handle, anyway? :-) Thankfully, that practice is disappearing with younger generations. Though, for the wealthy, it's still very prestigious!
Jide acts like my personal assistant. He's always planning ahead for trips I need to make during the week. He could take new arrivals on the "three hour tour" I usually provide and I wouldn't even need to be around. He knows how to tailor the tour to their nationality and interests. He knows the places that are most important to show them. And he can converse with them and answer their questions quite well. He's gracious to each one though he does become more quiet, I've noticed, with those individuals who arrive with an attitude. He reminds me of things I ask him to help me not forget. He records every business trip we make -- beginning km reading, ending km reading, purpose of trip, etc. I don't have to even check his math -- he calculates the whole report so that I can simply turn it in for reimbursement.
We entrust our lives to Jide's care each day. He knows how to avoid trouble spots; he drives defensively, constantly murmuring and muttering about the crazy drivers out there. He even thinks that if we ever got hit by a crazy driver he would be at fault because it should be his responsibility to be alert for every crazy one out there! (That's a bit unrealistic but we do appreciate his goals and standards!)
We never have to problem solve for Jide; we just present the facts and he works out a solution. This is an amazingly rare trait in, even for those who work alongside Jim in the industry!
He is an independent thinker. He is intrigued by, but rarely supportive of, Nigerian politics. I gain a lot from his insights into the latest scandal-of-the-day. We had quite a discussion today on our way home in the traffic. Tomorrow could be quite an historic day for the country. The tribunal (the very same that has ruled that at least 9 governors are in office due to illegal elections) will be ruling on the legality of the president's claim to the role -- the elections were totally rigged by the president's party but probably not by him -- the former president, Obasanjo, is the real culprit. But I appreciate Jide's honest assessment of his own pathetic government. He is ashamed of his leaders but he still holds out hope for his country. He has to, really, in order to make it on a day-to-day basis.
Jide is about as honest as they come in Nigeria -- we trust him at least 95% of the time which is a whole lot more than the typical situation! If the circumstances had been different, he could have been a major CEO in some business. He's quick, great with people, and completely diligent and responsible. Because he did not have the opportunity, he is pouring himself into his children, especially his youngest son. He pays for their education out of his meager wages from the company our company pays and the overtime that we pay him. He trains his children in the evenings every chance he gets. He wants them to learn the value of hard and honest labor. He wants them to pursue education even if the quality of education in the schools is such that he needs to pay for private tutors to REALLY provide an education for his kids.
His youngest son, Jonathan is his Christian name, began school all on his own initiative before he was three years old. He insisted on going off to school with an older brother. Jide and his wife believed the boy would tire of the requirements within the first day but the boy has never stopped! This guy loves to read long into the night. So, I just gave him a copy of the complete Chronicles of Narnia and the kid is devouring it! I can't remember if the boy is 7 or 9 years old but he's a little guy! I've got a children's devotional Bible that I want to give him for his next read! Jide is so proud of his kids. And he is committed to see them go farther than he ever could.
Jide loves Jesus. He's a bit messed up by the prevailing false teaching of the country -- the demands that everyone gives to "God" out of their poverty so that "God" (translated the pastor) can drive a fleet of 20 different cars. Anyone is bound to misjudge God based upon the phony people who dare to carry His name. But we've had some great conversations with Jide, showing him how the God of the Bible is so very different from this "witch doctor/magician/movie star" god of this country.
On our way home from the beach this weekend, we had our cook, Michel with us -- because we had a bunch of guests and Michel did all of the grilling. Imagine the amazing discussions we had as both Jide and Michel were firing questions at us all the while we drove down the road (other than during the time that we had to hide, with our escorts, in a village until armed robbers passed by on the main highway -- the escorts have radios and get reports of all problems.) Questions usually started with "does God really say that ..." and were followed by some obnoxious false teaching that only benefits the bank accounts of the pastors.
Jide is one major reason that we can survive in this crazy place. He gives us hope in the people of this nation. He's a bright light in a very dark place. And he has such potential. We know that any money we give him will be well invested and well budgeted. We know that the countless hours we spend talking with him will matter for eternity. It is our privilege to have Jide in our lives. We are blessed.
So, I'll write soon about Michel ... another amazing blessing we have -- another precious human being for whom Jesus died!
It Takes 9
Jim and I occasionally get to go to the beach alone and it's quite peaceful and refreshing! However, how we laugh at how our understanding of "alone" has changed!
You see, it takes 9, count 'em ... nine people for us to go to the beach "alone!"
Here is most of the group -- and a bunch of the neighboring village kids. (It's "magic" -- out comes my camera and out come the kids!)
For the two of us to have a peaceful day at our beach hut, we require assistance from:
1 --Jide, our driver
plus 4 -- a driver and three escorts, two of them armed
plus 2 -- Ola, our caretaker and his assistant, Sampson
plus 2 -- our chosen assistants, those two precious kids Gbenga and Ishak
That totals 9!
The amazing thing is that it actually does feel peaceful compared to entertaining the scores of guests we usually take along for the fun!
We swing back and forth between feeling total shame for requiring the attention of so many to feeling totally blessed for the privilege of having their help and the joy of providing income for all of them!
Monday, February 04, 2008
Staying Put
My head has been spinning since we returned to NGA. Re-entry is always such an adjustment. It seems that most of us who are ex pats have two very difficult times in this place -- right before we are due to leave on a vacation and right after we return. If those are our toughest times, it would follow that we should just drop all vacations and stay here indefinitely ...
NOT! The joy of being away overshadows the struggles connected with leaving. But, the struggles are great nonetheless.
So, I "hit the wall" last week and really had to bring my desperation to the Lord again and again. It's the same stuff that bothers me with renewed volume, vengeance, vigor -- the filth, the lies, the corruption, the lies, the chaos, the lies, the noise, the lies, the laziness, the lies, the poverty, the lies, ... you get my point.
Almost everyone I deal with in my job is from this country. And there are some bright lights admidst the masses. But they are rare and they're probably not even that bright -- it's just that the contrast is so extreme that the light is obvious. I don't want to develop an edge, become totally cynical, become hateful and demeaning, or become cold. Certainly none of those options are very Christlike. I pray against those tendencies constantly. And God is so good to give me renewed love for each individual. Taken one at a time rather than as a society, each one can be seen as someone precious to Jesus. That helps me cope. But coping is not enough. I want to know that all of my efforts count for something eternal, something of Kingdom significance. But it is difficult to make a dent in this culture. We are just one strong and persuasive leader away from the same chaos that is facing Kenya, Chad, ...
So, I'm doing a word study on "perseverance" in the Bible. I've asked my daughter, Jeri, to join me in it because she is dealing with some cultural struggles, herself, in Thailand. Though Thailand is decades ahead of Nigeria in development and miles apart from Nigeria in basic civility, there are similarities. Many. And Jeri and I each have realized that sometimes we just long for the familiarity of home. We have not been back to the U.S. since August 2006. It's becoming such a distant memory.
Even just staying awake most of the night to watch the Superbowl LIVE was a huge help -- we felt, for a few hours at least, that we were closer to home.
So, I'm now in the "settling in" stage, once again, in this crazy place that we sometimes call "The Land of Barely There." That label is borrowed from a children's book series our kids once had.
But my struggle is not homesickness as much as a sense of pointlessness. No matter how much I bang my head against the wall, the wall remains as permanent as ever and I just have a miserable headache.
So, I pray that I can be rooted in a sense of purpose even when I can't see the results. My purpose is to live a life that shows Jesus to the people around me -- the TRUE Jesus who does not want their bribes, only their surrender. The TRUE Jesus who isn't drawn to anyone's position only to their pure hearts. The TRUE Jesus who loves each one so much that he won't leave them in their messiness. I must just love them, work with them, and not see anyone as a "project!"
Through the strength of Christ, I must see past each offensive behavior and listen past the arrogant words -- and seek to love each needy, lost, searching core. So many examples of "perseverance" in scripture don't show someone sweating it out or grunting -- just remaining, just staying put.
Staying put.
That's my theme. Until such time as we are no longer to remain in this place. And with the occasional respite of a vacation :-) ... that's what I'm called to do ...
stay put.
NOT! The joy of being away overshadows the struggles connected with leaving. But, the struggles are great nonetheless.
So, I "hit the wall" last week and really had to bring my desperation to the Lord again and again. It's the same stuff that bothers me with renewed volume, vengeance, vigor -- the filth, the lies, the corruption, the lies, the chaos, the lies, the noise, the lies, the laziness, the lies, the poverty, the lies, ... you get my point.
Almost everyone I deal with in my job is from this country. And there are some bright lights admidst the masses. But they are rare and they're probably not even that bright -- it's just that the contrast is so extreme that the light is obvious. I don't want to develop an edge, become totally cynical, become hateful and demeaning, or become cold. Certainly none of those options are very Christlike. I pray against those tendencies constantly. And God is so good to give me renewed love for each individual. Taken one at a time rather than as a society, each one can be seen as someone precious to Jesus. That helps me cope. But coping is not enough. I want to know that all of my efforts count for something eternal, something of Kingdom significance. But it is difficult to make a dent in this culture. We are just one strong and persuasive leader away from the same chaos that is facing Kenya, Chad, ...
So, I'm doing a word study on "perseverance" in the Bible. I've asked my daughter, Jeri, to join me in it because she is dealing with some cultural struggles, herself, in Thailand. Though Thailand is decades ahead of Nigeria in development and miles apart from Nigeria in basic civility, there are similarities. Many. And Jeri and I each have realized that sometimes we just long for the familiarity of home. We have not been back to the U.S. since August 2006. It's becoming such a distant memory.
Even just staying awake most of the night to watch the Superbowl LIVE was a huge help -- we felt, for a few hours at least, that we were closer to home.
So, I'm now in the "settling in" stage, once again, in this crazy place that we sometimes call "The Land of Barely There." That label is borrowed from a children's book series our kids once had.
But my struggle is not homesickness as much as a sense of pointlessness. No matter how much I bang my head against the wall, the wall remains as permanent as ever and I just have a miserable headache.
So, I pray that I can be rooted in a sense of purpose even when I can't see the results. My purpose is to live a life that shows Jesus to the people around me -- the TRUE Jesus who does not want their bribes, only their surrender. The TRUE Jesus who isn't drawn to anyone's position only to their pure hearts. The TRUE Jesus who loves each one so much that he won't leave them in their messiness. I must just love them, work with them, and not see anyone as a "project!"
Through the strength of Christ, I must see past each offensive behavior and listen past the arrogant words -- and seek to love each needy, lost, searching core. So many examples of "perseverance" in scripture don't show someone sweating it out or grunting -- just remaining, just staying put.
Staying put.
That's my theme. Until such time as we are no longer to remain in this place. And with the occasional respite of a vacation :-) ... that's what I'm called to do ...
stay put.
Wednesday, January 23, 2008
Brad and his birthday
Yesterday our son, Brad, turned 23! And I didn't have a chance, yesterday, to blog about it. Counting our in-laws, we have five kids between the ages of 20 and 25! Wow! What a blessing!
So, let me tell you a bit about Brad. He's our middle child. So, sometimes, he suffers in this role. Add to that the fact the Jeri is our first-born and our only daughter and Joey is our baby ... well, it could be "bad for brad"! But, he rallies -- as always. He is a rally-er! He is our first son, after all. And he is the first of our crazy boys! And the guy is special ... I'm telling you ... honestly (I wish I could write the inflections that are used with those two expressions here in Nigeria -- the emphasis is on the middle so it's "I'm TELL-ING you" and "hon-EST-ly!" said verrrrrrrrry slowly).
Brad is this amazing guy who has an amazing wife, Karissa. Together, they are this amazing team. They've left the comforts of "home" in Alaska to head to further training in Australia at Hillsong. Brad's birthday was spent trying to get the "new" car that they just bought to run properly -- hiking to a shop only to discover that all parts had to be ordered ...
Brad is an anointed musician and songwriter and worship leader. And he's great with people, with teens, with everyone. It will be so exciting to see where God takes Brad and Karissa in the years ahead. I know it will have high Kingdom-impact for certain!
And you could call Brad the surfing fisherman -- he's equally passionate about both!
So, here are a few shots of Brad ... he's one
unique and cherished 
fellow!
Sunday, January 20, 2008
My Mom!
My mother is one amazing woman! Here she is with Jeri -- two beautiful women! She's in that age bracket when a woman begins to tell her age -- she's 74. She lives with constant pain from a blend of diseases and injuries. She had a shot to reduce some pain in her back before she flew to Thailand for Jeri's wedding.
Actually, she and my sister, Kathleen, were quite the pair. Kath has put up with amazing pain from a severe case of rheumatoid arthritis and requires regular injections to slow the pace of the damage. But, they both stepped off the plane in Ubon and hobbled towards us with huge smiles and no complaints!
So, more on Mom... She counts three consecutive hours of sleep during one night as a good night! Truly, it's God's strength that carries her along and allows her to have such a great attitude! Her great attitude includes being able to laugh at herself and join in when her grandkids are teasing her!
She was a huge help with the wedding -- 'took over the entire cake decorating project and all. 'helped with many other projects as well.
But, above all, I want to tell you about her spirit of adventure. She's always willing to try new things. With her age and her valid excuses, she could easily decide to take up residence in one of her many rockers and just skip anything new. But, we're all so blessed because she doesn't!
On this trip, she faced the culture shock of a developing country head on and enjoyed getting to know the people even while she was taken aback by their poverty. She tried new foods (the food the local Thais eat is quite different from that in western Thai restaurants!! -- that's for certain!). And, after the wedding, her adventures really took off!
I only have pictures of one of her adventures. But her adventures included elephant rides, sitting on an elephant's trunk, paddle boating in a river, sea kayaking in and out of caves and coves (and
getting stuck in one until the guide let some air out of the kayak -- must have been a very low tide!), snorkeling with the fishes, and ... getting jabbed about 10 times by one
fish that caused her to come out of the water with both legs bleeding! (The guide said it could have been some unknown black fish or, more than likely, a baby shark!)You go, Momma! We love you and we're proud of you!
Friday, January 11, 2008
Wedding Report!
Greetings from Thailand!
These photos were taken by Kara Pennington -- a long-time friend from AK who now is a wedding photographer in Florida. If anyone wants information on her availability for weddings, let me know -- she did fabulous work!
We are rejoicing over a terrific wedding experience for Boy and Jeri! It was beautiful!
The few days since the wedding have brought us opportunities to hang out with our family -- my mom, my sister, and our kids. Things are now winding down and Jim and I will soon leave for a couple of days of vacation on the beach before heading back to Nigeria.
We've had a great time in Thailand -- visiting with Boy's family (the term "visiting" is used lightly as we usually just sat and smiled at each other due to language barriers!) and doing a few tourist things, too!
It has been a blessed time to see Mom and Kathleen, Brad and Karissa, Joey, and Boy and Jeri!
Friday, December 21, 2007
Christmas Greetings!
I'm dreaming of a white Christmas ...
white sands would do fine, too ...
but both snow and sands will have to wait.
I'm dreaming of a CHRISTmas ...
here in Thailand -- a land of Buddhists
the only Christmas is more of a Santamas or Bellmas ...
God cannot be mentioned.
Even in the Starbucks, when a song was played that contained the words "holy" and "Christ" (and they weren't used as exclamatory comments) the song was immediately turned off.
But, we are so looking forward to attending a church service this Sunday! There will be a few words we'll recognize!!!
No matter where this Christmas finds you (physically and spiritually!) ... may your Christmas be blessed because of Jesus Christ -- who is worthy of all of our celebrations!
white sands would do fine, too ...
but both snow and sands will have to wait.
I'm dreaming of a CHRISTmas ...
here in Thailand -- a land of Buddhists
the only Christmas is more of a Santamas or Bellmas ...
God cannot be mentioned.
Even in the Starbucks, when a song was played that contained the words "holy" and "Christ" (and they weren't used as exclamatory comments) the song was immediately turned off.
But, we are so looking forward to attending a church service this Sunday! There will be a few words we'll recognize!!!
No matter where this Christmas finds you (physically and spiritually!) ... may your Christmas be blessed because of Jesus Christ -- who is worthy of all of our celebrations!
Monday, December 10, 2007
Little Lives with Big Needs
So, I promised I'd blog about a couple of dear boys who live near our beach hut.
Firstly, let me explain the big picture. Our beach hut is about 1 1/2 hours from the island areas of Lagos. (If there weren't "go slows" then we'd get there in about 40 minutes!) We travel with armed escorts because anything out of our little island area is off limits to ex pats without escorts (and even WITH escorts for some of the areas!)
Our drive takes us past hundreds of thousands of places where people live -- the "big man's" houses/villas that look opulent but upon closer view really aren't much; the shanties that are shelters made of corrugated metal; the squatters who are making a home out of one area of an unfinished building while the owner scrambles for another ten years to try to get the funds to get the place finished. (Vines and squatters grow in these situations at about the same rate -- overnight!)
Our hut is along a row of beach huts that are generally leased to people such as us. To reach it, we go through 4 villages -- an experience in itself. See a few photos:
Some of the villagers are wealthy and just maintain a little place in their home village. Generally, though, most of those who have obtained some level of wealth have moved away and have quickly forgotten the family they have left behind. Stories abound of fathers who have sacrificed in order to send one son to school in order to gain a better standard of living. Generally, the son gains his education (notice I didn't say a "quality education!"), gains a fairly decent job, and abandons the father and family who've made the sacrifices.
So, we always assume that the people we meet in the villages are desperate for anything. The children are adorable and always tug at our hearts. From our first visit there, we began the custom of handing out sweets (lollies, candies) to the kids when we are ready to leave.
The first time we tried this it was quite chaotic and the kids dropped the candy wrappers all over the ground as they ran off giggling with delight. After that, our driver, Jide, had a chat with the kids and since then they always form a nice queue and keep their trash (at least until they're beyond our sight!). Each visit, when the day is growing long and we are thinking about needing to pack up the car, we begin to hear the laughter of children as they gather outside the fence. They know what's coming. And the stragglers rush down the path to get to us before the treats run out.
We try to find little jobs for the kids to do. 'Gbenga is the 12 year old that we've gotten to know a bit. He always shinnies up the coconut palm trees with a machete in his mouth in order to get us some fresh coconuts. On a good day, when we have guests with us, he can
make even N1,000 (almost $7). That's a huge profit even after he has paid the owner of the trees! 
Ishak is a little guy, a 7 year old who has become the official "fanner" for Martin when Martin is grilling the food for lunch. Martin is our friend from Austria who absolutely loves to cook and considers it restful to slave over a hot grill for the day! So, I bought a fan from a vendor so that Martin can at least be cooled.
Well, the last time we were there with a bunch of friends, a friend found out that I was paying Ishak to fan Martin and she wanted to contribute. We gathered all of our small bills and I gave him a little pile of money. He and I counted it together and I fought back tears as I watched his eyes get wider as we approached the total. It was N320 -- a little over $2. After he stopped saying "tank you, Mudduh!" I asked him what he was going to do with the money. Without hesitation he said, "buy school sandals, Mudduh." OK, I held the tears off just long enough to get into the "toilet" and have a good, though silent, cry.
That's what lead us to finding out more about these two guys -- 'Gbenga and Ishak. Ishak's mother died when he was young and his father's second wife took him in. But when his father died and the step-mom remarried, he became less valued. The woman now has other children. He has a roof over his head but that's about it. It's better than 'Gbenga's situation, though. 'Gbenga has no one. He's lived on his own for quite a few years. He tries to earn food or money by helping where ever he can. And he lives wherever he can find a place to lay his head. He seems to enjoy the freedom this affords him, though.
Amazingly, both boys are in school. Even the public schools cost money for "fees," dashes (bribes) to the teachers, books, uniforms, ...
So, with the advise from our driver (who, out of his own poverty, gave 'Gbenga N500 on a previous visit to help with some school fees ... and, quite to Jide's credit, never told us about it!) we decided to give each of the two boys some money as Christmas gifts. Jide will oversee the use and check in with the boys during the time we are on vacation (Jide's family lives 6 villages down and grew up in the area and will be there for two weeks during our/his vacation). Depending upon how they have managed by the time we return in January, we hope to give them additional money. They plan on keeping the money a secret. Jide was getting word to Ishak's "guardians" so that they would not think Ishak had stolen the money. 'Gbenga told Jide that the only person he was going to tell was his big brother who lives in a village in the area. 'Gbenga was soooooo excited that as soon as we left he planned on running to the brother's village to share his good news (and probably to share the money, too!)
The corruption and the poverty can be so overwhelming that you just close your eyes to it all. We pray that we will never close our eyes but that we will be able to see ways that we can, just as little people ourselves, make some kind of long-term impact.
We'll keep you posted (pun intended!).
Firstly, let me explain the big picture. Our beach hut is about 1 1/2 hours from the island areas of Lagos. (If there weren't "go slows" then we'd get there in about 40 minutes!) We travel with armed escorts because anything out of our little island area is off limits to ex pats without escorts (and even WITH escorts for some of the areas!)
Our drive takes us past hundreds of thousands of places where people live -- the "big man's" houses/villas that look opulent but upon closer view really aren't much; the shanties that are shelters made of corrugated metal; the squatters who are making a home out of one area of an unfinished building while the owner scrambles for another ten years to try to get the funds to get the place finished. (Vines and squatters grow in these situations at about the same rate -- overnight!)
Our hut is along a row of beach huts that are generally leased to people such as us. To reach it, we go through 4 villages -- an experience in itself. See a few photos:
Some of the villagers are wealthy and just maintain a little place in their home village. Generally, though, most of those who have obtained some level of wealth have moved away and have quickly forgotten the family they have left behind. Stories abound of fathers who have sacrificed in order to send one son to school in order to gain a better standard of living. Generally, the son gains his education (notice I didn't say a "quality education!"), gains a fairly decent job, and abandons the father and family who've made the sacrifices.
So, we always assume that the people we meet in the villages are desperate for anything. The children are adorable and always tug at our hearts. From our first visit there, we began the custom of handing out sweets (lollies, candies) to the kids when we are ready to leave.
The first time we tried this it was quite chaotic and the kids dropped the candy wrappers all over the ground as they ran off giggling with delight. After that, our driver, Jide, had a chat with the kids and since then they always form a nice queue and keep their trash (at least until they're beyond our sight!). Each visit, when the day is growing long and we are thinking about needing to pack up the car, we begin to hear the laughter of children as they gather outside the fence. They know what's coming. And the stragglers rush down the path to get to us before the treats run out.We try to find little jobs for the kids to do. 'Gbenga is the 12 year old that we've gotten to know a bit. He always shinnies up the coconut palm trees with a machete in his mouth in order to get us some fresh coconuts. On a good day, when we have guests with us, he can
make even N1,000 (almost $7). That's a huge profit even after he has paid the owner of the trees! 
Ishak is a little guy, a 7 year old who has become the official "fanner" for Martin when Martin is grilling the food for lunch. Martin is our friend from Austria who absolutely loves to cook and considers it restful to slave over a hot grill for the day! So, I bought a fan from a vendor so that Martin can at least be cooled.
Well, the last time we were there with a bunch of friends, a friend found out that I was paying Ishak to fan Martin and she wanted to contribute. We gathered all of our small bills and I gave him a little pile of money. He and I counted it together and I fought back tears as I watched his eyes get wider as we approached the total. It was N320 -- a little over $2. After he stopped saying "tank you, Mudduh!" I asked him what he was going to do with the money. Without hesitation he said, "buy school sandals, Mudduh." OK, I held the tears off just long enough to get into the "toilet" and have a good, though silent, cry.
That's what lead us to finding out more about these two guys -- 'Gbenga and Ishak. Ishak's mother died when he was young and his father's second wife took him in. But when his father died and the step-mom remarried, he became less valued. The woman now has other children. He has a roof over his head but that's about it. It's better than 'Gbenga's situation, though. 'Gbenga has no one. He's lived on his own for quite a few years. He tries to earn food or money by helping where ever he can. And he lives wherever he can find a place to lay his head. He seems to enjoy the freedom this affords him, though.
Amazingly, both boys are in school. Even the public schools cost money for "fees," dashes (bribes) to the teachers, books, uniforms, ...
So, with the advise from our driver (who, out of his own poverty, gave 'Gbenga N500 on a previous visit to help with some school fees ... and, quite to Jide's credit, never told us about it!) we decided to give each of the two boys some money as Christmas gifts. Jide will oversee the use and check in with the boys during the time we are on vacation (Jide's family lives 6 villages down and grew up in the area and will be there for two weeks during our/his vacation). Depending upon how they have managed by the time we return in January, we hope to give them additional money. They plan on keeping the money a secret. Jide was getting word to Ishak's "guardians" so that they would not think Ishak had stolen the money. 'Gbenga told Jide that the only person he was going to tell was his big brother who lives in a village in the area. 'Gbenga was soooooo excited that as soon as we left he planned on running to the brother's village to share his good news (and probably to share the money, too!)
The corruption and the poverty can be so overwhelming that you just close your eyes to it all. We pray that we will never close our eyes but that we will be able to see ways that we can, just as little people ourselves, make some kind of long-term impact.
We'll keep you posted (pun intended!).
Sunday, December 09, 2007
There are things about this place ...
that we really, really like!
Jim took me out for a lovely dinner (our 27th anniversary) at a restaurant that was actually quite lovely. We tend to be excited about most restaurants here but then we always have to ask ourselves, "would we ever step foot in here if this was in the U.S.?" and the answer is usually "no way!" But, this restaurant was actually one we'd go to in the U.S. In fact, it reminded us of our favorite Italian restaurant in Denver "Three Sons" -- in the Highland area. The service was exceptional, the food had excellent flavors, the decor was quite lovely ... OK, we'd die at the price in the U.S. but the phrase "you get what you pay for" has new meaning here because you really, really have to pay bunches to get even a little!
And we sooooooo enjoy our beach hut. We went there alone yesterday -- see a few photos.
That's our driver, Jide,
playing Petanque with Jim! We are so very blessed to have Jide in our lives. He's much more than a driver. He's my own personal assistant. He helps provide directions to other drivers. He advises drivers based upon my feedback to him about what works and doesn't work for drivers of expats. He thinks of us as another mother and father and he said that he doesn't feel like he's going to work every morning but rather going off to visit his parents. (Now, for most folks this would just entirely be "a line!" but for Jide, it's truth!)
I'll have to blog more about Jide sometime. We've learned a lot from him!
And I'll give you some interesting information on a couple of young kids we've helped a bit who live near our beach hut. They're orphans and amazing survivors! I'll put that in another blog.
Jim took me out for a lovely dinner (our 27th anniversary) at a restaurant that was actually quite lovely. We tend to be excited about most restaurants here but then we always have to ask ourselves, "would we ever step foot in here if this was in the U.S.?" and the answer is usually "no way!" But, this restaurant was actually one we'd go to in the U.S. In fact, it reminded us of our favorite Italian restaurant in Denver "Three Sons" -- in the Highland area. The service was exceptional, the food had excellent flavors, the decor was quite lovely ... OK, we'd die at the price in the U.S. but the phrase "you get what you pay for" has new meaning here because you really, really have to pay bunches to get even a little!
And we sooooooo enjoy our beach hut. We went there alone yesterday -- see a few photos.
That's our driver, Jide,
playing Petanque with Jim! We are so very blessed to have Jide in our lives. He's much more than a driver. He's my own personal assistant. He helps provide directions to other drivers. He advises drivers based upon my feedback to him about what works and doesn't work for drivers of expats. He thinks of us as another mother and father and he said that he doesn't feel like he's going to work every morning but rather going off to visit his parents. (Now, for most folks this would just entirely be "a line!" but for Jide, it's truth!)I'll have to blog more about Jide sometime. We've learned a lot from him!
And I'll give you some interesting information on a couple of young kids we've helped a bit who live near our beach hut. They're orphans and amazing survivors! I'll put that in another blog.
Tuesday, November 27, 2007
Busyness as a Survival Skill and What it is We're Surviving
Crazy busy is the best description for how life has been of late. The benefit is that it helps us not notice how crazy life is in general around here! I recorded a figure skating competition a couple of weeks ago and have tried to watch it, oh, at least 5 times. It's only two hours and when you fast forward through the commercials that brings the total time down considerably. But ... alas ... I still haven't watched the last portion.
Jim had to leave early this a.m. for Port Harcourt so I'm staying awake and trying to get caught up on a few things! It's his first time back since we both had to leave very quickly in early June when our co-workers were kidnapped. He'll check on the progress of the banana tree that we planted last year!
Back to the topic of busyness --
Putting a westernized work ethic in the midst of a land of "go slows!" (the name for the traffic congestion) is a dangerous combination. It's because it makes it difficult for the ex pats to ever stop working. We are so determined to reach our goals, to make a difference, to accomplish something! But we lose time in traffic, we lose time because we're waiting on some local to do his job, we lose time because the job wasn't done properly, we lose time when we're waiting for a delivery or a food order or a meeting to begin or a driver to meet us or ... You get the picture. For the majority of Nigerians the response is "no wahala" -- "no problem!" For the majority of ex pats it just makes us work harder and smarter. But sometimes maybe smarter involves just giving in to the general "go slow" mentality! It's tempting to just sit back and say "whatevuh!"
Deadlines aren't really meant as a date the work should be completed. It's more or less a time to start shouting at someone to get started on the work. If it's before the deadline and they haven't even begun they always say "no problem, we're starting it tomorrow and we'll bring on a double crew to meet the deadline." Silly me ... sometimes I still believe the promises.
So today I'm meeting with a vendor who was supposed to deliver household items to 8 flats in August. And he's mad at us because we have the audacity to complain to him about his lack of service delivery when it's the end of November. He points out the items that he has delivered (which amounts to a little more than half of the list) and thinks we're unappreciative! And of the items he has delivered, we are expecting too much because we think the irons should heat evenly and the electrical kettles actually heat at all ... And, this vendor is one of the best! He is constantly putting down Nigerians because he's only half Nigerian. He laughs at the excuses other gives but he doesn't hear his own voice.
There are lessons to be learned here, as always. The education we are receiving is at least double the value of a university classroom, I'm sure.
One lesson is -- integrity does matter and we should still honor our promises and accept responsibility for our errors. Even when no one else does.
Another lesson is -- pray without ceasing! Praying about attitudes has to be as common as breathing. Attitudes can get corrupted so slowly by the corruption around us. It's subtle.
Which leads to another lesson -- racist statements and generalized statements about a pattern that is evident in a group of people are very similar. We constantly ask God to help us love each individual and not start to lump all faces into one group that we label as "them." I've had quite a bit of heated discussions with folks of late -- as I try to defend a Nigerian that I respect and as more and more seemingly racist comments are made. I typically say, "Would you agree that a racist is someone who makes a generalized statement about a group of people and then makes a statement about an individual based upon the fact the s/he is in the people group?" "Well, I suppose so," someone answers. "So, then, what you've just said is a racist comment." "No, it's not. I'm just stating a fact." And so the discussion goes on ...
Subtleties -- "Never trust a Nigerian." vs "Be cautious about trusting people."
"There's not a single Nigerian in this whole _________ ( insert: "country," "company," "world") that is honest." vs "He's a very honest Nigerian." (I hesitate to use the label Nigerian at all but I want to point out that this person is honest and is Nigerian -- together in one person.)
Anyway, you can see the struggle. And the busyness helps us to not over-analyze the whole thing!
I've learned a lot of other lessons lately. I only hope I'll have time to write about them soon.
Jim had to leave early this a.m. for Port Harcourt so I'm staying awake and trying to get caught up on a few things! It's his first time back since we both had to leave very quickly in early June when our co-workers were kidnapped. He'll check on the progress of the banana tree that we planted last year!
Back to the topic of busyness --
Putting a westernized work ethic in the midst of a land of "go slows!" (the name for the traffic congestion) is a dangerous combination. It's because it makes it difficult for the ex pats to ever stop working. We are so determined to reach our goals, to make a difference, to accomplish something! But we lose time in traffic, we lose time because we're waiting on some local to do his job, we lose time because the job wasn't done properly, we lose time when we're waiting for a delivery or a food order or a meeting to begin or a driver to meet us or ... You get the picture. For the majority of Nigerians the response is "no wahala" -- "no problem!" For the majority of ex pats it just makes us work harder and smarter. But sometimes maybe smarter involves just giving in to the general "go slow" mentality! It's tempting to just sit back and say "whatevuh!"
Deadlines aren't really meant as a date the work should be completed. It's more or less a time to start shouting at someone to get started on the work. If it's before the deadline and they haven't even begun they always say "no problem, we're starting it tomorrow and we'll bring on a double crew to meet the deadline." Silly me ... sometimes I still believe the promises.
So today I'm meeting with a vendor who was supposed to deliver household items to 8 flats in August. And he's mad at us because we have the audacity to complain to him about his lack of service delivery when it's the end of November. He points out the items that he has delivered (which amounts to a little more than half of the list) and thinks we're unappreciative! And of the items he has delivered, we are expecting too much because we think the irons should heat evenly and the electrical kettles actually heat at all ... And, this vendor is one of the best! He is constantly putting down Nigerians because he's only half Nigerian. He laughs at the excuses other gives but he doesn't hear his own voice.
There are lessons to be learned here, as always. The education we are receiving is at least double the value of a university classroom, I'm sure.
One lesson is -- integrity does matter and we should still honor our promises and accept responsibility for our errors. Even when no one else does.
Another lesson is -- pray without ceasing! Praying about attitudes has to be as common as breathing. Attitudes can get corrupted so slowly by the corruption around us. It's subtle.
Which leads to another lesson -- racist statements and generalized statements about a pattern that is evident in a group of people are very similar. We constantly ask God to help us love each individual and not start to lump all faces into one group that we label as "them." I've had quite a bit of heated discussions with folks of late -- as I try to defend a Nigerian that I respect and as more and more seemingly racist comments are made. I typically say, "Would you agree that a racist is someone who makes a generalized statement about a group of people and then makes a statement about an individual based upon the fact the s/he is in the people group?" "Well, I suppose so," someone answers. "So, then, what you've just said is a racist comment." "No, it's not. I'm just stating a fact." And so the discussion goes on ...
Subtleties -- "Never trust a Nigerian." vs "Be cautious about trusting people."
"There's not a single Nigerian in this whole _________ ( insert: "country," "company," "world") that is honest." vs "He's a very honest Nigerian." (I hesitate to use the label Nigerian at all but I want to point out that this person is honest and is Nigerian -- together in one person.)
Anyway, you can see the struggle. And the busyness helps us to not over-analyze the whole thing!
I've learned a lot of other lessons lately. I only hope I'll have time to write about them soon.
Thursday, November 08, 2007
Title, Honor, Shame, and how it all works
I met with a chief, yesterday, in his home. Now, the home was not what I expected -- picture clutter and then triple it! 50 framed pieces of "art," piles of stuff on every table and every chair, papers and glasses mixed together ... but amidst it all ... obvious signs of wealth. The 50+inch plasma TV and surround sound speakers, the gold plated Motorola mobile phone, the "keepsakes" from China, the portraits of each child graduating from a UK university. Wealth mixed with a lack of "class" ... a strange combination. Class without class, so to speak.
The reason three of us from the company met with him was that he totally and completely has failed as a landlord for a property we've been renting. But he didn't know that. One of his sons is in charge. And the son dares not tell his father anything negative. So, for almost one year the old man has been told that everything is fine when, in reality, our people who are tenants there have been suffering to the point of asking for early transfers out of country.
So, imagine this --- we needed armed escorts following our vehicle because I'm white and, therefore, I couldn't travel to the area on the mainland where the man lives.
We arrived, unannounced, because a source told us he was in country and available -- like so many successful Nigerians, he lives out of country more than in.
A man who appeared to be house staff met our car after we passed security at the gate to his villa. He was not staff; he was the chief, himself. The escort alarmed him so he decided not to send anyone else out to investigate, he sent himself.
We were warmly welcomed into his home. He served us lovely tea with honey in beautiful cups and saucers from China.
I opened with words of appreciation for the lovely first impression one receives when approaching the rental property followed by words regarding the potential the property has as a lovely landmark in the area, a place we would long appreciate leasing.
He was charmingly gracious and warm and courteous.
He was shocked (but didn't reveal it!) about our concerns and immediately jumped into action -- calling various staff and contractors on his gold plated flip phone. He was shamed by the failings of his people and, not admitting to the shame, went about immediately trying to impress us with his power to fix things. Indeed, he has the power. I was impressed.
Within a short time, every one of our major issues had been addressed and he'd made the appropriate calls to take care of the problem.
When referring to his photos of his children who each graduated from various UK universities, a co-worker asked him how many children he has. The chief smiled and calmly said, "Sir, I am a traditional chief. Do not ask me the number of my children. I cannot answer." To which I responded, "Chief, I believe you have answered." He laughed.
I received yet another education and a glimpse into the "class" society of Nigeria.
The reason three of us from the company met with him was that he totally and completely has failed as a landlord for a property we've been renting. But he didn't know that. One of his sons is in charge. And the son dares not tell his father anything negative. So, for almost one year the old man has been told that everything is fine when, in reality, our people who are tenants there have been suffering to the point of asking for early transfers out of country.
So, imagine this --- we needed armed escorts following our vehicle because I'm white and, therefore, I couldn't travel to the area on the mainland where the man lives.
We arrived, unannounced, because a source told us he was in country and available -- like so many successful Nigerians, he lives out of country more than in.
A man who appeared to be house staff met our car after we passed security at the gate to his villa. He was not staff; he was the chief, himself. The escort alarmed him so he decided not to send anyone else out to investigate, he sent himself.
We were warmly welcomed into his home. He served us lovely tea with honey in beautiful cups and saucers from China.
I opened with words of appreciation for the lovely first impression one receives when approaching the rental property followed by words regarding the potential the property has as a lovely landmark in the area, a place we would long appreciate leasing.
He was charmingly gracious and warm and courteous.
He was shocked (but didn't reveal it!) about our concerns and immediately jumped into action -- calling various staff and contractors on his gold plated flip phone. He was shamed by the failings of his people and, not admitting to the shame, went about immediately trying to impress us with his power to fix things. Indeed, he has the power. I was impressed.
Within a short time, every one of our major issues had been addressed and he'd made the appropriate calls to take care of the problem.
When referring to his photos of his children who each graduated from various UK universities, a co-worker asked him how many children he has. The chief smiled and calmly said, "Sir, I am a traditional chief. Do not ask me the number of my children. I cannot answer." To which I responded, "Chief, I believe you have answered." He laughed.
I received yet another education and a glimpse into the "class" society of Nigeria.
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