Saturday, December 29, 2007

On the 12th Day of (my) Christmas

WEDNESDAY DECEMBER 26

This, my last full day in Guinea, was one of my favorites. As always, it was beautiful--sunny and warm (OK, a little too warm, or, at least, too humid for my taste). And I did all of the things I liked to do--traveled, visited with friends, watched a family have fun together, took pictures, and played music. Only the beautiful mountain countryside was missing.
The travel was merely across town to visit two of my students and their family. This was great fun. They are a bright, lively (especially two younger siblings, who, I was duly warned, may become my students in the near future), and interesting to talk to. They are hospitable, and served me a delicious meal of beef and chicken brochettes (shish kabob) and wonderful chocolate-filled cream puffs. We discussed Guinean history and current conditions (they've been without city power for a month now) and school and books and movies.
On the way to and from lunch, I took numerous photos. I've been surprised at the wide variety of sizes, shapes, and colors of moquest in West Africa, so I've begun documenting that variety. Check back for a separate page of pictures at a later date.
When I returned to Jim and Becky's, they played outside with the kids, chasing and screaming and laughing.
As night fell, I sang and played music with a young Guinean musician who has come to Conakry to attend a University. Only 23 years old, he's written many songs about life in Africa: "Cease Crying" and "Stop Playing with Fire" were among those he sang for me. He accompanied himself on a hand-made gongoma [GOHng-go-mah], a simple instrument made from a calabash, a piece of wood, and three broken pieces of a hack-saw blade. He taps the wood with his left hand and plucks the sawblades with his right as he sings.
We recorded some of his songs, and he insisted I join him on the choruses of one. So, I now own what may become highly-sought-after, seminal recordings of West Africa's next singing sensation. And who will guess that it's an old toubob (white guy) singing along with him?

On the 11th Day of (my) Christmas

TUESDAY DECEMBER 25

Though it's the 11th Day of my Christmas holiday, it's actually Christmas day, and I'm glad to report that Santa took time to visit us (see photo).

Baby Jenna's first Christmas was duly videotaped for the grandparents. Hannah, when not decked out in a red and white cap, helped her younger sister open her packages. To my surprise, there were gifts for me, too: a lalaangii (see Day 6 post) and two books, including a wonderful book about Guinea.

We were joined for breakfast by a young Guinean man. When he asked about my family, he was visibly moved to learn that, like him, I had lost both of my parents. This led to a long conversation about sorrow and happiness and hope. I was glad to be able to tell him about the steady hope I have because of the centuries of promises, recorded in the Old and New Testaments, that God fulfilled in the birth, death, and resurrection of Jesus. It was a surprising conversation, but fitting for Christmas day, since Christmas has no meaning outside of those promises.

In the evening, we attended a huge Christmas dinner hosted by a friend of Jim and Becky's, complete with two turkeys (which I attempted to carve), stuffing, mashed potatoes, home-made rolls, and a host of other wonderful dishes, including several fabulous desserts. The crowd was broadly international--American, Canadian, Egyptian, French, and Guinean, perhaps more--and the entertainment ranged from dominoes to card tricks to jigsaw puzzles to live hammered dulcimer music (hmmmm). It was a treat to be invited, a great way to close out Christmas day.

On the 10th Day of (my) Christmas

MONDAY DECEMBER 24

A downtown shopping trip took up most of my Christmas Eve day. Conakry, at 2 million, boasts a population about two-thirds that of Dakar, but is a much bigger city, stretched over a long, narrow peninsula. It took perhaps 45 minutes to get downtown despite almost no traffic.

Since West Africa is predominantly Muslim, there were understandably few indications in town that Christmas was near, even fewer than in Dakar. Nevertheless, the three I saw were rather large--two 6-foot Santas, and, in the middle of a major intersection, this leaning tower of a Christmas tree.

We went to a small artisan village, where I bought some rhythm instruments. In a larger market, I found some beautiful and unusual hand-dyed cloth, and purchased a few other items. Jim and I ate lunch at La Gondole--one of Dakar's nicer restaurant-ice cream parlors, which, I discovered, has a branch in Conakry.

We got home in the nick of time to leave for the outdoor, candlelight Christmas Eve service held at a local mission compound. I led the singing, and helped accompany a couple of songs on the hammered dulcimer I bought in Michigan last August, my public premier as a dulcimer player.

On the 9th Day of (my) Christmas

SUNDAY DECEMBER 23

Back in Conakry, we attended a large French-language church service Sunday morning. It turned out to be the annual children's service. The room was decorated with paper streamers and birthday baloons for Jesus' birthday. The kids ran the whole thing.

MUSIC: Several choirs of various aged kids sang a lot of great songs, and led the congregation in others. I wish I had music for them!

SKITS: A variety of skits were acted with amazing confidence and animation by children of all ages. Some were apparently quite funny, though the only joke I got was when Mary and Joseph reported to the census taker in Bethlehem...

Census-taker: Name?
Joseph: Joseph.
Census-taker: Wife's name?
Joseph: Mary.
Census-taker: Ages?
Joseph: I'm 9. She's 7.

SERMON: A boy I judged to be 10 or 11 years old gave a lengthy and lively sermon on Isaiah 9 in French. It was translated, on-the-fly, into an African language by another boy his age. I followed neither presentation!

Back home later in the day, while I played with the kids, Becky caught a chicken that had flown over the wall from a neighbor's yard.

Friday, December 28, 2007

On the 8th Day of (my) Christmas

SATURDAY DECEMBER 22

One of the things that most frustrates American children living in Africa is having their state-side friends ask them if they live in grass huts, ride to school on elephants, or hide from tigers at night. Don't Americans know that Africa has houses, that elephants are rare, and that tigers only live in India and Asia?

Though none of my students live in huts, and many urban Africans live in houses and apartment buildings, many, many other Africans do, in fact, live in huts. We passed hundreds of them on the way to and from our mountain vacation. Many, like the one shown here, offer items for sale to those driving by. In this case, it's charcoal, wrapped in grasses and bagged in pastel sacks, displayed under a huge, colorful mango tree. Perhaps more often, it's rice, potatoes, or pyramids of fresh fruit or vegetables. Sometimes it might be boldly patterned cloth, or recently butchered cows or goats.

In fact, the irregular intersection of manual labor and traditional products with technological sophistication is one of the earmarks of African life. Single A fisherman spends his morning in a small canoe, and brings his products to a market where vendors use hand-held calculators and cell phones. A shepherd guides his flock of sheep or goats across a divided highway. A street vendors hawk matches, CD players, and inflatable Santas side-by-side. Imams chant their calls to prayer not from the minarets themselves, but from tinny loudspeakers stuck at their tops (see photo--that's a speaker, not a bell). Africa is a living kaleidescope of change.

On the 7th Day of (my) Christmas

FRIDAY DECEMBER 21

This was a packed day! It started with birdwatching near the cabin in the morning. I saw numerous species not listed in my Birds of West Africa; and others that are listed, but not indicated as living in Guinea. And I have pictures to prove (some of) my sightings! Unfortunately, the quality of most of the photos is pretty poor, but they still should help with identification. Here's a fire finch perched on the end of a cinnamon tree trunk.

Then, Jim and I and three-year-old Hannah began a sight-seeing tour of the area. It started at the Dalaba visitor's center, a hut packed with local crafts and other items of interest, including this Hannah-sized, stuffed leopard skin. I almost succeeded in playing a reed flute like the one with which I was serenaded at the market yesterday, and the Center Director almost succeeded in getting me to buy one, but we couldn't agree on a price.



The next stop was the French colonial governor's compound, including a traditional "cassa des palabres" or House of Words. Built in 1936 using traditional mud construction, with beautiful geometric patterns formed in the floor, walls, and (before it collapsed from lack of care) the roof, the governor met here with important indigenous leaders to discuss political matters. A special place for each cheikh' (chief's) chair is marked in the wall--you may be able to make out two of these on either side of the door in this picture). It was here, in 1958, that incoming dictator Sekou Tourre convinced other national leaders to oust the French upon declaring independence--a move from which the country has never recovered.

Finally, we went to a beautiful lake where friends took me birdwatching in their canoe. I saw more stunning sights (including a large kingfisher with irredescent green back, wings, and throat; white breast; huge orange and black beak; and gray head), and took more terrible photos, the single exception being the birdless one at left.

Thursday, December 27, 2007

On the 6th Day of (my) Christmas

THURSDAY DECEMBER 20

EXCLUSIVE VIDEO FOOTAGE BELOW!!

Today is the highest holiday of the Muslim calendar. Known by different names in different parts of the world ("Eid ul-Adha" in Arabic countries, "Tabaski" in Senegal, "Donkin" in Pulaar, one of the main Guinean languages), it is the Muslim celebration of Abraham's near-sacrifice, at God's command, of his son. At the last minute, God provided an alternate sacrifice, a ram caught in a thorny thicket near the altar he had instructed Abraham to build (see Genesis 22). Christians recognize in these remarkable events a foreshadowing of God sending his own son, Jesus, wearing a crown of thorns, to pay the price for our sins, literally once and for all, with his life instead of ours.

Muslim families sacrifice a goat or sheep or cow each year in gratitude for the sparing of Abraham's son. (When I left Dakar, roadsides and major intersections were filled with thousands of sheep for sale at makeshift markets. It reminded me of the hundreds of Christmas tree stalls in every city in the United States--though those generally smell better!) The sacrificed animal is divided and shared with family and with the poor. The rest of the day and the following day are spent in celebration with special meals, visiting of friends, and gift-giving.

We took the day to travel over roller-coaster quality, unpaved roads to Pont de Dieu--"Bridge of God"--a natural bridge on the penultimate level of a 5-tier waterfall. In the above picture, I'm standing on the middle level, just below the bridge, photographing Jim as he photographs me.

On the way home, we stopped by the city market for a few food items. Jim and Becky���s blonde two-year-old Hannah was the center of attention until Becky came back from her search for cooking oil trailed by four nyamakalabhe���musicians who insert themselves into social settings such as weddings and baby-naming ceremonies in hopes of securing cash donations. They welcomed me to Dalaba, singing ���You have come to Dalaba, You have come a long way,��� and similar phrases over and over . . . until I paid them to stop! One man played a djembe, a west African drum; one played a reed flute; and two played lalaade (singular: lalaangii), shakers made from wooden disks stacked on small, angled tree branches.

Back "home" at our mountainside cabin, we could hear the Tabaski/Donkin celebrations until 10 pm under the nearly full moon, with both children and adults chattering excitedly along the road that runs along the bottom of the hill on which our cabin sits.


On the 5th Day of (my) Christmas

WEDNESDAY, DECEMBER 19

After getting up to do a little birdwatching, during which I photographed the sunrise through the pine trees, I spent the rest of the day sleeping. Every move felt like lifting lead weights. I wore three layers of clothing and was still cold, so I lay on a mat in the sun all afternoon to keep warm. In my lethargy, I missed going to the local French restaurant at which we had made reservations for dinner. I began recovering just in time to eat some of the delicious beef bourguinon leftovers Jim and Becky brought home.

On the 4th Day of (my) Christmas

TUESDAY, DECEMBER 18

Tuesday we went shopping in the nearby city, Dalaba [DAHL-uh-buh]. (Be sure to watch the market video on my "6th Day" blog). We bought fresh eggs, flour, sugar, bread, lettuce, tomatoes, several packages of batteries (that didn’t work), and slippers, each item in a different shop. I watched awhile as a tailor sewed gold thread into the seams of a dress using a foot-powered sewing machine similar to one my grandmother used.

On the way home, we stopped at a hotel surrounded by poinsettias and oleanders, with a fabulous panoramic view of the mountains. Here I am holding my hosts' baby girl in front of a 6-foot poinsettia bush.

At night, two of my former students and their parents, who are staying in a nearby cabin, came over for games and desert. I learned a strange, but fun card game called Bohnanza (or, "The Bean Game").

On the 3rd Day of (my) Christmas

MONDAY, DECEMBER 17th

Today, we drove northeast from Conakry (on the coast) past Kindia to Mamou, and northwest from there to Dalaba [DAH-lah-bah] in "upper Guinea" for a 5-day stay in the mountains. We stopped in Mamou to greet the family of my hosts' guard in Conakry. The family was apologetic that they hadn't known we were coming, and didn't have any food prepared for us. We promised to stop again on our return trip. (Map © 2006 Mapquest)











One of the differences between the US and Africa is the approach to tranportation. In the US, people and luggage are usually trasnported inside a vehicle. In Africa, the outside of the vehicle is just as viable as the inside. In the left-hand picture above, the luggage and people on top of the car are taller than the car itself. In the right-hand picture, the man standing on the left bumper has tied himself to the car so he can nap as he rides!

The countryside here is truly beautiful. The panoramas bring to mind parts of Pennsylvania, Maryland, and Georgia, but with a special character all their own. At left is a view of a valley as seen from our cabin. The weather here is idyllic--clear and sunny, breezy and dry, with pleasant temperatures. Surprisingly, though, even this far south, the harmattan wind delivers a hazy layer of Saharan dust which hovers over the countryside.

Another surprise for me is the quality and busy-ness of the roads this far from Conakry (quite different from my experience in Senegal, where roads and traffic both thin within a couple of hours of Dakar). Our cabin home feels like a US National Park, with frequent trucks driving by on the road below us and children laughing in the distance.

On the 2nd Day of (my) Christmas

SUNDAY, DECEMBER 16

Today, I attended two church services and a wake. The first service was in one of the three predominant languages of Guinea. Nine people were in attendance. We sat on mats in a room with a half-wall open to the outside. We sang in two languages (it was interesting to try to read and sing the words to a couple of the songs, originally written in English, in a language unfamiliar to me.) I will not publish photos of this service, since announcing one’s Christian faith in this particular Islamic context is a matter of considerable difficulty and, sometime, persecution. It can be a long process, often starting with trusted friends. It is not my place to publicize these believers’ faith for them.
The wake was for the brother of one of the church members. Her house and yard were full of men coming to pay their respects. As special church guests, we were ushered into her living room and served a meal of bara-bara (BAHda-BAHda)—a delicious rice—and sauce with a little meat.

The second church service was in the evening, conducted in English, and attended by American, Canadian, and African missionaries and personnel from various embassies. Much more in my own tradition, it was a welcomedly* familiar end to the day.

Today's photo is of something I saw many times in Guinea, food laid out on the shoulder of the road to dry. In most cases, as shown here, it's rice, but I also saw a bleached-white root of some sort, perhaps manioc, handled the same way.

*I made that word up. Feel free to use it without asking my permission. Just footnote me in the history books.

Sunday, December 23, 2007

On the 1st Day of (my) Christmas

SATURDAY DECEMBER 15

I left Dakar at 4:30 am and arrived in Guinea's capital city of Conakry at 6:00 am. The air was humid but not hot. Not suprisingly, the airport terminal was small. Surprisingly, it had no exterior walls.

To exit the airport, you must present your yellow health card as evidence that you have had malaria shots. I had presented this to the Guinean embassy in Dakar a few days earlier to obtain a visa, but had mistakenly left the card itself in Dakar, perhaps even at the embassy. At first, the airport health representative insisted that I either produce the card or pay 10,000 Guinean francs (about $2.50US) for an inoculation. I didn’t want another vaccination, particularly not one kept in a freezer that doesn’t have power 70% of the week (see below), so I repeatedly explained that I had obviously had an inoculation, or I wouldn’t have been able to get a visa. The woman continued to dismissively insist I purchase a vaccination. Eventually, we reached a compromise: I paid $2.50 for a new yellow health card that said I’d received an inoculation at the airport.

As we drove through the city in the early morning light, I found Conakry quite different from Dakar. It is more spread out—wider streets, more space between buildings, and stretched over a longer peninsula; the ground is rock and dirt instead of sand; slanted roofs outnumber flat ones; trees and grasses abound, as do streams and ponds and hills! It also smells better, lacking the sickly sweet odor of decaying trash mingled with diesel fumes which so often permeates Dakar. With its red clay, pine trees (introduced by the French), and dilapidated buildings, Conakry reminds me of rural Georgia near where my grandparents lived.

Two other ways Conakry is different from Dakar I learned later: city electricity is usually available only at night, and water is available only two days per week. Neither service reaches Jim and Becky's neighborhood, so they have solar panels on their roof and a short water tower in their front yard.

The 12 Days of Christmas

For the holidays this year, I’m on my first African trip outside of Senegal. I’m spending twelve days in the beautiful (!) Republic of Guinea, two countries to the south. This Guinea is commonly referred to as Guinea Conakry (CON-uh-kree), after its capital city, to distinguish it from Guinea-Bissau to the north and west, and Equatorial Guinea to the southeast.

I came to Conakry to visit my friends, Jim and Becky. I knew Becky at graduate school in the ’90s, but never expected to see her again because she was planning to live overseas! I bumped into Becky and Jim last spring when they were evacuated to Dakar during political unrest in Guinea, and they invited me to visit sometime. Seven months later, here I am! (Let that be a warning to anyone else who might lightly toss off an invitation for me to visit you.)

Subsequent posts will tell a little about each day. The photo above is from the Fouta Djallo region, as we neared the mountains. I have so many interesting and beautiful photos, I’ll try to figure out how to set up a separate page on the blog for some of them.

Friday, December 7, 2007

Scrooge is Dead! Long live Scrooge!

Next week, our Middle School and Elementary School students will join forces to perform A CHRISTMAS CAROL CARD COLLECTION--an update of Dickens' Scrooge story by yours truly, complete with bad puns, rhyming replacements for Scrooge's ghost friends (posts of Christmas instead of ghosts of Christmas), true spiritual conversion to Christ, traditional and contemporary Christmas music (including a new piece written specially for the program by one R. Jay Sappington), and a special guest appearance by Laurel and Hardy.
In the rehearsal pictured above, Scrooge is rudely refusing Laurel and Hardy's request for a donation to their charity, NICKELS BY NICHOLAS, which is sponsoring a Christmas dinner for those who have fallen on HARD TIMES.

"We have GREAT EXPECTATIONS of you," says Oliver.

"You won't FIELD one COPPER from me!" scowls Scrooge, ushering them out the door.

"That was a nasty turn," Oliver comments as they leave.

"It certainly was an unexpected TWIST, OLIVER," Stan replies.

Sharing the Road with Tomorrow's Dinner

In an earlier post, I compared Dakar's traffic to Chicago's. There are differences, though. It's not at all unusual in Dakar to share crowded intersections with horse-drawn carts, hand-pushed carts (the ones in the photo at left are full of sacks of potatoes), or with goats, sheep, and cows.

Sassy Teenagers!

Dakar Academy is not just a ministry of adults to students. It is a ministry of students to Senegal. Over 75 of our 110 high school students gave up 3 days of their Thanksgiving vacation to go to the village of Sass (pronounced "sahs"), a few hours from our campus, where they worked long, hard days in hot, sunny weather to minister to the physical and spiritual needs of the residents.

Joining our students on this trip were 25 more students from a sister school in Madrid, Spain. Plus, ten national pastors--including the president of the national church--lived, ate, and worked with the students.

The daytime project teams:

  • Team 1: Roofed the village pastor's home

  • Team 2: Dug and poured a foundation for a church

  • Team 3: Dug a septic system

  • Team 4: Made and repaired church benches and made a pulipt

  • Team 5: Painted another church and two homes in a nearby village

  • Team 6: Provided medical aid to 157 locals. (Our assistant director, who is an EMT, provided training and first aid certification for our students, who administered most of the treatments. Two additional trained medical professionals were on the trip to help with triage.)

  • Team 7: Visited 13 villages, presenting the gospel through skits, music, mime, and puppet shows to about 1200 children and adults.

  • Team 8: Ran Bible programs ("Vacation Bible School") with 800 children!

  • Team 9: Worked at the campsite coordinating meals and hand-pumping gallons and gallons of filtered water.

At night, troups of students went to three different villages and joined the Senegalese pastors in presenting the gospel to all who came to listen. Between 180 and 200 of these people indicated that they recognized the truth of the Biblical message of spiritual freedom in Christ, and wanted to become Christians. Many have already gotten involved in their local churches.

The students finished the weekend by joining the Sass church members in ther Sunday morning worship service. "We were deeply moved and humbled," wrote our outreach coordinator," when the president of the national church asked our staff and students to surround the local believers and pray for them. Indeed, the battle has just begun and we need to pray for these dear folks, that they will be faithful in sharing the gospel with their neighbors and building God's kingdom in that area.”

Photo of some of our girls working in Sass, taken by outreach coordinator Evan Evans.

Equal Time for the Boy's Dorm

This is the week for carolers! In an earlier post, I showed the group of Santas who serenaded my apartment building Monday night. Sadly, I missed a Wednesday night group when I was stuck in traffic for over an hour. (Dakar is a very congested city. It was odd to move to Africa only to face the Chicago rush hour.)

Last night, my Bible Study group was meeting when the sounds of male harmonies wafted in the windows. Sure enough, the high school boy's dorm was making the rounds. A welcome sound at this time of year!

Tuesday, December 4, 2007

'Tis the Season

Dateline December 3, 2007. 8pm. I'm about to eat dinner and watch a movie when the doorbell rings. "Who would be stopping by now?" I grumble, "I just want to be alone and relax." Then music begins floating in my open windows. Something about wishing me a merry Christmas . . .

And there, outside my apartment building, is a group of 15 high school girls from our on-campus dorm, all wearing Santa hats and shorts and (the temperatures being way down in the 70's)sweatshirts, singing Christmas carols! What a treat! I am pleased to report that I had a fresh batch of Christmas cookies to offer them (a neighbor had made them for me the day before.)

Sunday, December 2, 2007

My Hero, My Rant

My weekend began with a visit from my new Canadian friend, "Dan," (see my November 16 post), who brought me the latest issue of New Africa, a magazine based out of Ghana and England. I set it on my coffee table without noticing the cover article about Britain's celebration of the 200th anniversary of Parliament's abolition of the British slave trade, and Dan and I set off for Movie Night, an evening of free outdoor movies sponsored by the senior class.

First movie: Ratatouille. Thoroughly enjoyable. Get's my vote for the best animation and story since Finding Nemo.

Second movie: Amazing Grace. This historical drama is a class act from begining to end: well-written, brilliantly acted, and (most amazing of all) historically accurate in, I believe, every significant detail. The story is that of William Wilberforce's leadership of the abolitionist movement in 18th-century England. I had looked forward to the film because of the subject matter (as you may know, I spent two years researching Wilberforce's abolitionist strategy as the subject of my master's thesis), but was unprepared for its extraordinarily high quality as cinema.

The film's only major flaw is a sin of omission rather than commission. Whereas, in the US, the terms "abolition" and "emancipation" are typically used synonymously to refer to the end of slavery, in British parlance, "abolition" refers merely to ending the slave trade--the buying and selling of slaves. This was accomplished in 1807, and this is where, fairly enough, the film ends. The uninitiated American viewer might assume this abolition simultaneously ended British slavery itself, and nothing in the film serves to prevent or correct that assumption--not even the end notes which say that Wilbeforce went on to challenge and change additional aspects of British culture and life.

But Wilbeforce and his colleagues had to fight another 25 years before finally securing emancipation for the millions of slaves still owned by British subjects. This they finally achieved in 1833, just days after Wilberforce's death. (Wilberforce, age 73, had retired by this time, and died happy, assured that the emancipation bill would pass.)

This blurring of abolition and emancipation also mars the issue of New Africa Dan had brought me. The cover article, "Lies, Lies, Lies!," tells of a new book by a British historian who claims, apparently with detailed documentation, that Britain's bicentennial celebration of Abolition is a bunch of self-congratulatory hooey; that Britain continued to build its empire on the products of slave labor late into the 1800s. The book's author and the article's author both are scandalized by this revelation, and the latter heaps calumnies on the Brits, going so far as to wonder if Wilberforce himself were a racist.

The late hour and lack of library resources (or even my thesis and the notes it was based on) prevent a detailed or footnoted response. Suffice it to say:

(1) The main proponents of slavery were those who were benefitting financially from plantation produce (shippers, merchants, bankers, etc.). They spent 20 years fighting abolition because major portions of the economy, and their own profits, were based on slavery. Why would anyone expect them to suddenly forgo the financial benefits they could still milk from the industry, even if they were prevented from the direct sale and purchase of slaves? It's one thing go be scandalized by this. Slavery is scandalous. But, given the historical context, to be surprised by it seems naive.

(2) As pointed out earlier, 1807 marked the legislative end of the British slave trade. It did not mark the end of the slave trade still conducted under the laws of other nations (or of the illegal trade still conducted by some Britons). And it did not end slavery itself, even in Britain and its territories. The slaving industry marched on, denying basic human rights to Africans. And the foodstuffs and other salable items produced by slaves continued to be a huge portion of the British and world economy of the time. Again, what is the surprise here?

(3) Though the article does acknowledge Africans' complicity in the slave trade, the author downplays it, saving his indignation for the British alone (apparently feeling the British are self-serving in their celebration of Wilberforce and Abolition; but isn't it worth commemorating?).

(4) Wilberforce would not have spent over 40 years of his life trying to free British slaves if he were an anti-African racist (the term is anachronistic). To imply such a thing only indicates lack of knowledge of Wilberforce's writings, his life's work, and his reputation among opponents as (to use another anachronism) a "nigger lover."

Photo shows a contemporary painting, by John Rising, of Wilberforce at age 29, near the beginning of his abolitionist efforts. Image in the public domain. Downloaded from http://www.hullcc.gov.uk.

Sunday, November 25, 2007

An International Weekend

This picture shows my weekend hosts, Dubby and Anna Rodda (left) and missionary friends from neighboring villages, eating a Saafi meal from a common platter. (If we were really traditional, we would have set the platter on the floor and sat around it.) The meal consisted of a thick layer of millet (much like couscous) flavored with boabob leaves, topped with a smorgasbord of vegetables, including squash, tomotoes, carrots, and a kale-like leafy something whose name sounded like "never-die."

This weekend, I took my first solo trip outside of Dakar since moving here four years ago. I drove an hour and a half to visit Dubby and Anna Rodda and their son Charlton, who live in Mbayar, a Saafi (SAH-fee) village southeast of Dakar. The Saafis are a Senegalese tribe of about 100,000, related to the larger tribal group Serer (see sidebar under the heading "EVERY TRIBE AND TONGUE"). My friends are working to develop a written version of their language using both Roman and Arabic scripts.

It was good to be out of Dakar. It was very quiet and peaceful (except Saturday night, when a village festival included the blaring of recorded African pop music into the early morning). It's not what I would call a pretty area. There is no ground cover of any sort. The view is barren brown from horizon to horizon, broken only by the brown cinderblock huts and a few dusty trees and shrubs. The rainy season wasn't rainy this year, so the villagers' farming efforts largely failed.

Yesterday marked the end of the mourning period for two elderly women whose husband died 4 months ago, and I could have accompanied Dubby to the, the -- well, I don't know if it was a ceremony or a celebration or just what -- at which the women were to learn of their current re-marriage options. (Hmm. Was this connected with the village festival last night? I didn't think to ask.) Alas, I didn't have the energy, physically (I had a fever most of the weekend) or emotionally (it's almost the end of a long semester) to venture into the village. I'm not sure this is the sort of event I'd feel comfortable crashing anyway!

I did meet several villagers, as they dropped by frequently. One, I was surprised to learn, was the village chief. Why was I surprised? Because he looked to be between 25 and 35, too young to be the chief. It turns out he is 57, the father of 13 children!

So, my weekend cross-cultural foray was not a matter of black and white, but of various genres of blond and blue-eyed. Of the six missionaries pictured above...
  • three are British (Dubby's family produces the exclusive Rodda's Cornish Clotted Cream)

  • one is Faroese (Anna is from one of the 18 Faroe Islands located in the North Atlantic between Scotland, Norway, and Iceland, largely independent, but with political ties to Denmark)

  • one is Dutch, and

  • one is Norwegian
I was the token blond-blue-eyed Yankee (British-German-American).

Despite our various backgrounds, we talked together, laughed together, listened to music together (in English, German, Fareoese, and Bulgarian), sang Christmas carols together (including one I wrote, and a "new" one from England), prayed together (in English), we all ate Saaafi.

I've been emailing and blogging ever since I got back to Dakar hours ago. It's time for bed!

Post of a Thanksgiving Past

A friend emailed me this photo (copyright status unknown). It seems a fitting accompaniment to the following story.

My best--and favorite--college professor was my choral director. An excellent teacher and a skilled conductor, Dr. Marsh provided us with practical wisdom gained from years in the classroom; he was emminently approachable, and had an excellent sense of humor.

He was also my advisor. One day, I stopped him in the hall and asked to set up an appointment with him. We settled on 10 am the following Thursday as a time amenable to us both.

When we passed each other in the hall again later, Dr. Marsh stopped me and said, "Jay, I realized after we talked that next Thursday is Thanksgiving; I can't meet with you then."

"Hmph!" I exclaimed with feigned indignation, "I see where your priorities lie!"

"Well," he replied without skipping a beat, "it was a choice of one turkey or another."

Monday, November 19, 2007

On the town

I rarely travel alone. I prefer to be with people. Especially when traveling--even short distances--in a country whose languages and customs I don't know.

This past Saturday, I spent much of the day downtown by myself. In the morning I visited a Senegalese friend in the hospital. Then I went shopping alone, followed by a long walk and a stop at a small Senegalese restraurant, all time spent "processing" the hospital visit, which included some new cultural experiences and perspectives I had to mull over, in addition to normal emotions associated with facing friends' medical difficulties with them. I decided I need more of these solo trips to begin to really live "in Senegal."

Friday, November 16, 2007

A True Story

A few weekends ago, I went to dinner with a new Canadian friend (we'll call him Dan) who was "batching it" for the weekend while his wife (who we'll call Angie) was at a retreat. Knowing that Angie is American, and that Dan had attended graduate school in the US, I risked asking him a potentially sensitive question: what stereotypes of Americans he had found to be generally accurate--and annoying. He thought a bit and said, "I wish Americans knew more about Canada."

Fair enough, I thought. And, hoping to be the beginning of the change he wanted, I asked him, "What do you wish Americans knew about Canada?" He paused for a long time, and finally said, "I don't know."

Wednesday, November 7, 2007

A Bird in the Bush

Last Sunday, I spent an exceedingly pleasant afternoon with a group of old and new friends (not counting the birds) at a nearby technology park / golf course / nature preserve. A golfer leaving the park saw us carting binoculars and cameras, and alerted us to the presence of flamingos in a distant corner of the golf course. By the time we got there, the flamingos had left, but just learning about this secluded and pretty part of the park--with open water, brushy trees, and open fields attracting a terrific mix of birds--was worth the trip.

This was also a "get back on the horse" experience for me. I've barely touched my camera since losing literally thousands of photos last spring (see my September 8, 2007 post). Though I didn't take my long zoom and tripod with me, I'm still happy to have begun replenishing my photo collection with this plain but clear shot of a red-billed hornbill. The hornbill, which also comes in a gray-billed variety, is an active, noisy bird with amusing flight patterns. It is perhaps 2 feet long from tip of its bill to the end of its long tail.

Saturday, October 27, 2007

Dakar Academy Alum in Space

Former Dakar Academy student Scott E. Parazynski completed his fifth space walk yesterday. As the Space Shuttle's lead space walker on STS-120 (the 120th shuttle mission), Scott was in charge of installing the massive, new HARMONY live-in unit at the International Space Station (ISS). In the next three walks, he will oversee the moving of another huge part of the ISS, a project he likens to the structural relocation of a huge Victorian house which he witnessed as a child.
Scott grew up as an international traveler, living in the US, Lebanon, Greece, Iran, and "two wonderful years in West Africa, in Dakar, Senegal," where he attended Dakar Academy as a junior high school student.
To read more about STS-120, the ISS, or Scott (including his biography, an interview, and even the meal menu for this Shuttle voyage), go to

Friday, October 5, 2007

Home, Sweet Home

This remarkable image of the coast of West Africa is NASA's "photo of the week" (http://www.nasa.gov/). It shows a dust storm blowing over the Atlantic Ocean from Mauritania. If you could zoom in close enough, you'd see me on that little green peninsula near the bottom.

Actually, if you go to GoogleEarth, you can zoom in that close! When you do, find the airport on the west side of the penninsula. Due southeast from the airport, near the opposite shore, look for a large brown patch. That's Hann Park (the Dakar Zoo). Zoom in on that, and you can see the Dakar Academy campus across the street, near the top left corner of the park!

The campus has several buildings, a couple of parking lots, a basketball court, a sand lot, and, easiest to spot, a large grass-less, gray soccer field surrounded by trees. Near the bottom left corner of campus, there's a backwards-L-shaped building. That's my apartment house. I'm the guy on the roof waving at the camera.

Friday, September 28, 2007

"Will it be enough?"

In my post of August 28, I explained the hardships faced annually by many Senegalese subsistence farmers whose first fall harvests often aren't sufficient to meet the needs of their families.

In this photo of our Elementary Chapel service earlier today, you can see the stack of bags of rice and beans--over 2-½ tons--collected by our K-12 students. Tomorrow, a small group of students and staff will deliver the staples to suffering villagers.

"Will it be enough?" asked one of my fourth graders. I had to be honest. "No," I told her, "it won't feed everyone, but it will help."

If you would like to help with similar efforts, send a donation to WorldVenture / 1501 W. Mineral Ave. / Littleton, CO 80120 / Attn: Special Project #6403-933 Famine Relief, or you can give online at www.WorldVenture.com.

Wednesday, September 19, 2007

Spiritual Power, not Electrical Power

In my past four years here, the months of August through November have been quite frustrating because of the almost daily power outages. (The first year was the worst—I was teaching computers. Imagine doing that with no electricity!)

This school year has been different. So far, we’ve lost power on campus only a handful of times, and for only a half hour or so each, instead of the typical 6-10 hour outages. Nearby neighborhoods, on the other hand, continue to go without power for extended periods. Though it's impossible to say for sure why, one plausible theory is that a high government official has moved into our neighborhood, and is making sure his home has consistent electrical service.

Well, a letter I read today indicates someone even more powerful has "moved into the neighborhood." I'll copy in portions of the letter below, but for it to make sense, you need a little background.

For about a third of our students, DA is home for three quarters of the year; they live in dorms on or near campus while their parents serve as missionaries in more remote parts of West Africa. Each dorm has a set of dorm parents—a married couple who care for the students during the school year. Dorm parents get one night off each week, and someone else from school fills in for them.

Dan (our middle school/high school principal) and his wife, Patty (our second grade teacher), fill in as “dorm relief parents” for the middle school boys each Monday night. Following a Senegalese tradition, Dan and the boys drink a tea called attayah [uh-TY-uh], the brewing and drinking of which is the centerpiece of evening fellowship in Senegal. It is often prepared outdoors. To make their attayah gatherings even more fun, the middle schoolers hold theirs on the roof (houses in Senegal have flat roofs).

In a letter to the boys’ parents, this week, Dan described the “incredible thing” he witnessed in the dorm Monday night. I reprint exerpts here, edited somewhat for clarity.

On a normal Monday evening, I take the boys on the roof for attayah and a devotion. Last night was no different, except that one of the boys asked if we could have an extended prayer time on the roof after the devotion. . . . As we ended our time on the roof, the rains began to come down, and WOW, did it pour, and then the power went out.

Shortly thereafter, the boys came to me and asked permission to all sleep in the living room. They cited two reasons. (1) With the power being out, it was cooler and (2) they wanted to continue their time in prayer.

By 9:00 P.M., every boy was in the living room and it was pitch black. They began to pray. They prayed for each other, for DA, for their parents, for their parents’ ministries, for the administration, for their dorm parents, for the Senegalese people, for God to crush Satan’s power in Senegal. They prayed and prayed and prayed.

Then they began to pray one-on-one with each other; each boy going to all of his dorm mates. Several of them even prayed with and for me. I was absolutely blown away. At around 10:00 P.M., the power suddenly came back on. Several of the boys got up and turned off all the lights while the others continued to pray. . . .

They prayed for the Holy Spirit to empower them to share the Gospel and to give them the courage to love each other and everyone they came in contact with. They prayed for strength, they prayed for God’s armor, they prayed for the Holy Spirit to take control of their lives. . . . They prayed for over two hours!

. . . Your children are . . . a bright light in our lives. . . . They are a testament to your loving affection and guidance. They are a testament to the power of the Holy Spirit. . . . They are a testament to what young boys can do for a world in need of God’s love. . . .

May God bless your day as your boys have blessed my night!

In His Service,

Dan


DA Wins Award

DA won an Exemplary School Program award from one of our accrediting organizations, the Association of Christian Schools International (ACSI), for our innovative and effective Student Outreach program. The following description (co-authored by yours truly) summarizes the program. Though the article looks long here, it's actually fills only a single published magazine page. And it's pretty inspiring.

Imagine . . .

  • You pour a foundation, make 1,600 bricks by hand, lay the walls, raise the roof, and worship with local Christians in the church you just built for them.
  • You visit several villages, presenting skits and puppet shows, and starting children’s Bible clubs.
  • You play soccer with a high school team, then present the school with dictionaries, textbooks, and soccer uniforms.
  • You hold two performances of mime and multi-language music, followed by an
    evangelistic film and a call to freedom in Christ by a local pastor.

Now imagine . . . you are in high school, you and fellow students did all of this, and more, in one weekend, and you financed it yourselves.

This real-life scenario gives only a taste of the varied ways that Dakar Academy DA) high school students use their diverse gifts to minis­ter to people in Sénégal through DA’s innova­tive Student Outreach Program. Other facets of the program include monthly visits to an or­phanage; soap and shoe drives for local minis­tries to street kids; and friendship evangelism at a large French high school near our campus.

What makes this program remarkable? The answers to that question fall into the following four categories.

Strategic Breadth

My Skills Count: The variety of activities staged in a single weekend—manual labor, visual arts, performing arts, healthcare, sports—enables virtually any high school student to participate meaningfully.

Multiple Sizes Fit All: This variety also broadens the impact: if one aspect of the outreach doesn’t touch a particular villager, another one probably does.

Participation Depth

Here I am Lord, Send Me: Outreach week­ends attract more students than can participate; we consistently must turn volunteers away. One recent outreach involved 87 students—over 66% of the high school student body!

Pay as You Go: The program is self-supporting. They are funded by collections taken at DA’s Sunday morning worship services, attended by dorm students, some teachers, day students, and their families.

Chips Off the Young Blocks: The program’s vision is rubbing off on elementary students! A class of fifth graders who recently took a field trip to deliver Operation Christmas Child gifts to preschool children were proud to be doing something “like the big kids.” They realized that, though young, they can serve others for Christ.

Community Impact

Christian Identity: Students and staff from DA have built five churches in Sénégal. Beyond providing shelter for worship services, churches are a “24/7” symbol of Christian presence in the community. This strengthens local Christians’ identification with the body of Christ, and provides non-Christians with a visible reminder of the call to new life in Christ.

Spiritual Harvest: Sometimes fruit appears quickly: eight villagers chose to follow Christ during one outreach. Within weeks of another outreach, eighteen people had joined their village’s church—enlarging the congregation by more than fifty percent! Prayers for an end to drought brought the largest rains in 20 years.

Clearing the Path: The novelty of our students’ presence “in the bush” naturally attracts crowds. Their joy and generosity break barriers. Sénégalese children’s pastors report that our programs have opened doors for ministry in villages where previously they were not per­mitted to work.

Passing it On: Some DA teams have helped train Sénégalese Christian workers how to minister through puppetry and drama, extending the effect of our teams’ work.

Expanding Horizons

We’re grateful God is using us—teaching and equipping us to share the gospel across cultures. We are now developing partnerships with churches and schools in the U.S. and Europe, to help their students “catch” the vision, and extend the reach of the gospel in Sénégal.

May we be faithful and may God’s kingdom grow!

Saturday, September 8, 2007

Photo Request

Have I ever given you copies of photos I've taken (especially of Africa), either by email or on CD? If so, please, please, please send copies of these photos back to me.

Why?
.
Because, when my laptop crashed last spring, I lost hundreds of photos documenting my life in Senegal, pictures that I had thought were being backed up daily to my school's server. I'm trying to reconstruct some of this record of my time here.

Thanks!

Tuesday, August 28, 2007

Famine Relief

As my previous post makes clear, I have no problem obtaining food; but that's not true for subsistence farmers in parts of Senegal this season.

North of Dakar, the rains came so late this year that the harvest failed, and some villages ran out of food for some of their livestock, losing them to starvation. Fortunately, the rains have begun, and surviving livestock can feed on the vegetation that is now growing. Meanwhile, some of the families' own food stocks are down so low that they eat only once a day.

How to Help. WorldVenture, one of Dakar Academy’s owning missions, has organized a relief effort to help these folks hold on until the harvest of the second planting, later this fall. If you'd like to help, you can send donations to WorldVenture / 1501 W. Mineral Ave. / Littleton, CO 80120 / Attn: Special Project #6403-933 Famine Relief. (You can also give online at www.WorldVenture.com.)

Saturday, August 25, 2007

How Much Does it Cost to Live in Dakar? What Do You Eat?

These are two of the most common questions people ask me. Today, I'll give you a "taste" of the answer to both questions.

Good Eats. I usually have cereal and juice for breakfast. One lunch this week I had the Senegalese version of fast food. Neighborhood Senegalese restaurants fix one meal each lunchtime. You provide your own large (mixing) bowl, and for the equivalent of 50-75 cents US, they fill it with an enormous serving of a traditional, rice-based dish. Fish and rice on Monday, chicken and rice on Tuesday, etc. On Friday, I had the beef offering--mildly spiced fried rice with chunks of beef mixed in, topped with deliciously pickled vegetables.

Otherwise, I've been alternating among several dishes my cook prepared for me (she comes every Thursday): chicken in a hot tomato-mushroom sauce, meatless chili, pizza, and meatloaf, along with rice, couscous, pasta, whole wheat rolls, and canned corn. Plus cranberry scones. Fresh fish is also plentiful here. Jealous yet?

Where's the Kroger's? As for cost of living, I just took my first trip to Le Caddie (the neighborhood market, or marché--pronounced mar-shay) since my return to Dakar. It's a mom-and-pop shop a couple of blocks from campus, owned and operated by a delightful Lebanese couple. (Many of the middle-class business owners in Dakar are Lebanese.) What I bought and how much I paid will give you a feel for the availability and cost of western foods.

  • 3 boxes of breakfast cereal (including 1 Kellog's Rice Krispies, 1 Quaker Cruesli, and 1 "Temmy's Bran Flakes," from Egypt)
  • 2 1-litre boxes of juice imported from France
  • 3 1-litre no-refrigeration-needed plastic bottles of skimmed milk from France
  • 1 litre olive oil
  • 3 28-oz cans of beans (white, red, black)
  • 1 medium can of mushrooms
  • 3 packages of facial tissues (Kimberly-Clark)
  • 1 packet (200g) of butter (French)
  • 1 pkg of napkins from the United Arab Emirates
  • 1 box of brown (cane) sugar (France)
  • 1 bag of white sugar, locally hand-packed in unlabeled bags
  • 1 pack of fresh pita bread, hand-packed in unlabeled bags

Total Cost: 30,760 cfa (West African francs), or approximately $60.00 US

Friday, August 24, 2007

The Procedure Failed, but the Patient Survived

In my post of a few minutes ago, I forgot to thank all of those who have asked after my brother. Though doctors were unable to place a stent, medications dissolved the blockage in his artery. He is home, is recovering very quickly, and is grateful for everyone's concern and well-wishes.

Back "Home" in Dakar

Return Trip. I arrived in Dakar last Saturday night after one of the smoothest trips I've ever taken. Ironically, no one checked for my visa upon my return. Though I had my usual pre-return blues (they begin after 4 weeks back in the States), it's good to be back "home."

Teaching. I've just completed the 1st week of my 5th year teaching at Dakar Academy. I've always enjoyed the students here, but this appears to be the nicest crop yet. This semeseter, my responsibilities include:
  • Elementary School music: grades K-5, meeting 2x per week for 30 minutes each
  • Middle School music: grades 6-8, meeting 2x per week for 45 minutes each
  • Chamber Choir: 9 high school students selected by audition, 2x per week for 45 minutes each.
  • Overseeing Elementary Chapel (speaking and leading music, and finding others to do so)

This week I invented a musical game that the 3-6th graders really enjoyed.

Campus. The picture above is an old one, but shows an area of campus largely unchanged since I took it: the elementary school building (6 classrooms, a small kitchen, two bathrooms, and in the middle, the 2-story auditorium where I teach) and elementary playground.

Weather. The weather is always noteworthy here, even if it's weather as usual. As expected at this time of year, it's hot and humid. Thankfully, the power has stayed on for a whole week, so I've had the benefit of my new (used) air conditioner at night. It's also been cloudy. We had a welcome downpour today, wiping the dust off the leaves and washing much of the the humidity out of the air (and turning High School PE class soccer games into a mudbowl).

I would not be able to take this same picture today, because a new, 3-story classroom building covers the spot where I stood to snap the shot. In addition to the badly needed additional classroom space, the bottom floor of this new structure provides a great benefit: a shady, breezy, open area for lunchtimes and other large gatherings.

Birders Alert. I awoke to what I believe was the sound of an owl in the middle of the night earlier this week. A colleague thinks she saw one on campus recently. I've never seen an African owl, but perhaps I'll be able to post a picture of one here someday.

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Friday, August 17, 2007

Still in the US, still in the US, still in the USSA

Those old enough to remember such things will be able to deduce from from the title of this entry that I've been listening to Beatles albums lately.

I'm still in Michigan. I was to have left for Senegal on Tuesday Aug 7. Visa problems (long story) prevented my boarding the plane. After several phone calls to Dakar and several days of work by an Air France representative, we got things worked out, and my departure was rescheduled for Sunday, Aug 12, but...that afternoon, my brother came home from exercising with symptoms that sounded ominously similar to ones I had 22 months ago. I called 911, and he was rushed to the hospital, treated in transit for, yes, a heart attack.

He's back home now, doing well. He received excellent treatment, delivered cheerfully and professionally by University of Michigan Health System staff, and was himself a model patient. His prognosis is very good. Family, neighbors and other friends have been very supportive (both to him and to me). And, despite some frustration at being denied entrance to my first plane, I'm grateful I was still here 5 days later to recognize the symptoms, and I'm grateful it was a "minor" heart attack.

I am now scheduled to return to Dakar tomorrow (Friday the 17th), leaving him in the good hands of his daughter, who came from out of state, and other relatives and friends in the area.

When I arrive in Senegal Saturday evening, I will have missed the first two days of school, two days of annual orientation, and several days of last-minute prep. Fortunately, I often teach best when I'm improvising. I'm not looking foward to the heat and humidity, but hope it will help me lose some of the 30 lbs I've gained in the past 9 months!

I do look forward to using this blog to keep family and friends updated more often than I have in the past. Suggestions are welcome. (Yes, I know, add more photos. I'll work on that once I get settled in again in Dakar.)

Tuesday, July 31, 2007

First Blog Entry: This is a test of the Sappington Broadcast System...


Welcome to my blog, where I'll be posting occasional reflections on--and pictures of--my life in Senegal. I'm new to this, so it will take a while for me to develop features my family and friends will find helpful.

The photo above is of several friends at Dakar Academy--two of our guards, and one of our former teachers holding his youngest son. (Photo courtesy of Sara Lyn Page)