nimba county, part III

as we snaked out of red light i had a foretaste of the road conditions i would face on the journey ahead. potholes were ever present. things and people ran across the road without warning.
during the trip i would see chickens, pigs, sheep, goats, kids, men with large burdens, massive potholes, massive puddles, broken down cars, broken down trucks, broken bridges, wreckages of vehicles, trucks stuck in mud and probably many other things i am failing to remember right now.
some interesting things:

• when a car or truck breaks down on or near the road, they do not have the reflective triangles we have. instead, they pull out clumps of grass or weeds and place them on the road to give drivers a warning.
• taxis honk. and then honk some more. honking can mean the typical "get out of my way" or it can mean "hello", "what's up", "come over here", "test, test, 1,2,3, test", among others.
• much of liberia was paved before the civil wars broke out in '89. so in places there are vestiges of good road but most of the roads are like a war zone. if you could watch people drive, you would think they are drunk as they weave back and forth across the road to avoid the pot holes. what i found to be really interesting was that as we went further and further from monrovia the roads seemed to be as bad or worse. but instead of weaving back and forth on the pavement, the most common path was off the pavement entirely. visualize a paved road ahead of you with multiple potholes. then imagine ruts off the road on either side where the cars actually pass...
  

nimba county, part II

rufus and i worked our way to the back of the throng of people at red light to the taxis heading to the interior. as with purchasing anything here, one must bargain, haggle, and verbally wrestle with those from whom you are trying to purchase something.
on this occasion the haggling was over the price. rufus had convinced me that i am not yet an african and i could not handle riding a long distance like an african [like other 3rd world countries, people are packed in like sardines into vehicles]. rufus worked out purchasing three "seats" for the two of us so i could have the front seat of the old nissan sunny for the 5-6 hour drive to myself. [though i though i might be able to handle it, i am not sure. i have shared the front seat many times now and it is far from comfortable. the old cars that comprise the legions of taxis are usually formed seats that bite into one's back when you are not sitting in them properly. and the road was far from a smooth ride. actually, i think some enterprising teenager should come up with a driving video game where you need to avoid pot holes, animals, men with machetes, massive red-mud puddles that could absorb a car, and other such pitfalls...]
after all was arranged, i sheepishly sat in the front seat by myself while rufus shared the back seat with three other grown men. i am spoiled.

nimba county, part I

wednesday morning, i packed my backpack full of the minimal necessities and rufus and i went to the red light.
i cannot remember if i talked about red light before so i will just mention it briefly.
of course, in most of our minds "red light" brings with it a certain connotation of that shady part of a city whose primary source of commerce (to be unnecessarily kind) is sex. in this case, strike that from your mind.
red light, in paynesville, liberia, is outside of monrovia and is a bustling, crazy-busy area with peddlers of anything and everything (that is, within the confines of liberian economy). to drive through is to be like moses, only you are parting a sea of people.
the red light is called such because it - had a stop light. simple as that. the stop light is still there. but like other intersections, it hangs limply and without light (in fact, i am only aware of only one working stoplight in all of liberia).
it is from this mass of humanity that we ventured into the interior - the bush.
[if you have been reading my posts, it was at the red light that my car ran out of gas and some people found great humor in the fact that "white man's car broke down". i have only one or two sly pictures taken here because the crime is pretty high and to pull out my camera would prove to be too great a temptation for some...]

return from the interior

silence.
it can be sweet or maddening.
there is something i love about being disconnected from technology and those things that make me comfortable. i had that this week. but there is something disconcerting about being disconnected, separated from the rest of the world. thus it feels good to be back and typing at this computer.

u.s. embassy

when you travel, you learn how the rest of the world thinks of you and your country.
being an american citizen, i am faced with interesting questions.
today i went to the american embassy for the first time. i had a few questions for them, but i was asked the question by a liberian why our embassy is so heavily barricaded. not only does it have the high walls, razor wire, guards and heavy doors that other embassies have, but we also have the road blocked off (much to the frustration of local drivers and taxis) and baracades even around all the entrances.
what are we afraid off?
it is unfortunate but it seems that the perception of the government is so economically driven that any assistance we would provide to a country is not out of general good will but some sort of economic quid pro quo. this bums me out.
on a side note. most people here are pro democratic party. why? because the republicans are a pro-war party. interesting. though not nuanced, it is definately true when looking at the current administration.
i have many more thoughts on this but i hesistate to say to much lest i step on too many toes...

cane juice

anyone ever had cane juice before?
i live 3/4 of a mile back on a quite rough dirt road. instead of taking a taxi or riding on a motorcycle, i have made it a habit to walk the distance and make friends on the way. being that i stand out, making friends and meeting people is extrodinarily easy -- and fun.
today as i was making my way back by the merchants of every sort, i saw five middle-aged men sitting in what could loosely be called a cafe. they all had little plastic shot glasses, limes and a bottle of something on table.
of course, i stopped and inquired.
ah, this is cane juice. it is a whiskey type drink distilled from sugar cane. as i watched them pound the drink, i was invited to join in. tis powerful stuff. worthy of a shot.

the entrepreneurial spirit, the shady side

yesterday, i noted some of the ways people make money to survive here. they certainly can be creative. today, i will mention a few that i encountered today which are likewise creative, but are also on the shady side (some might even call them illegal).
after teaching this morning, i needed to head downtown monrovia to go to the immigration office. my friend too had some business downtown. we stood on the edge of the road with our arm extended waving our hand at the wrist indicating our desire for a taxi. as always, it was not only us looking for a taxi but all of liberia as well. one can wait for quite some time before you can elbow your way into a taxi for a ride (sometimes the elbowing is both literal and necessary).
but this afternoon, instead of being greeted by the typical beat-up mess of an ancient nissan with plastic bags for seats, a relatively new s.u.v. stopped. i was greeted with a/c and music. how nice. well this nice government official was using his government car to very kindly taxi us and others where we wanted to go for a "small inconvenience" fee. how legal is it to use a gov't vehicle to make some money on the side?
our first stop was undp (united nation development projects). they help were providing some funds for an organization my friend works for. he was there for the third time to pick up the check that was to be ready many days ago. unfortunately, each time he goes to pick up the check there is some sort of problem. this problem could be eleviated and the funds could be released with some palm greasing. of course, this is never stated, but it seems that the check can be obtained at odd hours or on the weekend when the higher-ups are not around...
next i went to the immigration office. prior to coming to liberia i had purchased a visa for $100 which gave me 90 days in the country. when i arrived at the airport here, i was surprised to see that the stamp they put in my passport only gave me 30 days at which time i would need to renew it. i inquired at the time and they said i would need to check in at the immigration office to get an extension. when i arrived at the building, an immigration officer said i need to give her $25 dollars and she will get me a new stamp to extend my stay. i balked. i asked for documentation of this hidden and unknown fee. she could not produce any. i kindly demanded to either talk to someone who was her superior or to see documentation. after pushing aside two other officers and being delayed, at last i was ushered into the back halls of the immigration building.
i was brought to a kind, well-dressed, and obviously well fed lady who told me the visa in my passport only gets me into the country and the stamp in my passport allows me to stay. and it was now time for me to pay. i had two options: either go to a bank tomorrow, fill out an application, provide two-passport photos, and pay $20, or i could pay $25 dollars to her right then and there and get the stamp without the bank, form, or photos. the extra $5 is a "processing fee". hum. i decide to forgo the former option in favor of the latter.

the entrepreneurial spirit

how does it go? necessity is the mother of invention.
with unemployment absurdly high in liberia, most people are forced into finding ways or finding things to sell in order to make a living. below are a few of the more creative and/or odd (from my privileged western perspective) things i have seen:

• guys selling rubber bands downtown monrovia (for the money changers who have huge wads of bills
• kids with multi-colored rolls of plastic bags on their heads for sale
• a street side merchant with two wheel barrows full of 6-9 inch snails from the bush
• the young men with an umbrella over their heads with a bundle of umbrellas at their feet for sale
• bananas, peanuts, monkey apples, baked goods, gum, and whatever else placed on the merchants head to sell to whomever is interested
• men who slow traffic down by working on the innumerable pot holes in hopes that passers-by in cars will tip them for their hard labor (a football team was out doing this on our local road recently to make money for uniforms)
• in busy market areas, men will help people find taxis (whether they want or need this help is irrelevant) for a fee

sirleaf, china, and football

last night clarence, a friend and assistant to rufus in reap, took me to the national stadium. it was originally built under the rule of samuel k. doe. [doe was the guy who lead the coup of the elected administration of tolbert. doe executed the president and most of his administration. it was the attempt to overthrow doe by charles taylor in 1990 that brought more than a decade of civil war.]
during the war, the stadium was ransacked and ravaged (like the rest of the country). since the relative peace that has reigned in liberia in the past handful of years with the heavy presence of united nations forces, one nation in particular has chosen to invest in this war torn, but resource rich country.
no, not the united states; not the country that liberia so desperately wants to emulate.
instead much of the work done here from roads to recreation is coming from the chinese. i do not want to get into the potential ramifications of this here, but as an american, i find this discouraging.
well, the chinese decided to renivate liberia's largest stadium. surrounded by deserted and half-built buildings, lightless street lights, and men hawking goods out of wheel barrows, the bright lights of the stadium make it shine like a jewel. people flocked to the official handing over of the keys to the stadium from the chinese to the liberian government.
the u.n. and national police had a heavy presence. the president, ellen johnson sirleaf, was present and spoke. the sound was so poor i could not hear what she was saying. the big screen on the far end of the field used bright colors and bulbs to display its various messages of unity between the two countries. then it did not work. it was rebooted. then it did not work again. they rebooted. it flickered. chinese technology?
the stadium will be used primarily for football. or if you are american, soccer. it was a beautiful field. i have become so accustomed to makeshift fields and goals that the other day i stood mouth agape at metal goalposts. most fields are full of puddles, holes, weeds, and have makeshift wooden goals with no nets. [when i play with the kids in my neighborhood, we use cinderblocks for goals.]
all things considered, it is exciting to see improvement here. i pray all work done by the chinese really helps the people of liberia. in the same light, i pray that president sirleaf does all within her power to serve her people and fight the rampant corruption found in this country.

taxi

this morning, on the way to church, i took a taxi.
this would be fairly unremarkable except for the fact that the taxi was a minivan and i was one of twenty seven people in the vehicle.
think benches instead of pilot seats.
think sardines.
think cheap transportation.

african freedom (potentially too much information)

the other day i stepped in the shower as i usually do a little before 7am.
[it should be admitted that my accommodations are not typical for these parts; i have running cold water and a fairly common american bathroom sans shower head on the shower wall (instead i have a hose with a head on the end). the running water comes from a massive 5000 gallon tank on a two story cement pedestal. gravity does the rest. admittedly i do miss hot showers. but having running water is a privilege i appreciate.]
the cold water came out a little slow with very little pressure. nevertheless i lathered up and started the cleaning process. while i lathered i had the water off. when i tried to turn it back on to rinse off, there was only about three drops that fell out apologetically. fortunately, being rainy season, the rain was falling like in the days of noah. i put a towel around my body, told the ladies in the kitchen to stay inside, and ran outside. tossing the towel aside i gloried in the hard rain.
warmer than the shower water, the rain quickly and refreshingly rinsed the shampoo and soap suds from my hair and skin.
ah, where else can you do something like that?

education ministry part II

today i was able to revisit the dark halls and stairwell of the ministry of education.
rufus kindly included me in a meeting that is held every month between the dept. of education in liberia with ngo's (non-govt. organizations) involved in education.
it was fascinating to catch the spirit of frustration in the inadequacies of the system and the resources it currently possesses as well as the universal desire to turn things around and the hopefulness for the future.
of the approximate 26,000 teachers in liberia, currently 65% of them are untrained. there are a few different reasons for this but two of note are: the war that stalled all educational activity and destroyed most of the infrastructure including education; and brain drain, as it is commonly called, where those with education fled (and flee) the country for better and safer opportunities abroad.
there is much to be done here.

adult education

i ended up staying later than usual at the isaac a. david school where i have been teaching. i had heard and had seen adults pass by on their way to one of the classrooms for adult education, but i had never had the time or the energy to sit in. today i did.
packed into one of the classrooms was fifty ladies. when i entered, they all stood and greeted me. shyly, i smiled and squatted next to a lady near the door. i introduced myself and asked a few questions. what are you studying right now? our numbers. what grade level is this? silence. how much education have you had? [a shake of the head.] have you had any schooling before this? no.
one of the teachers kindly brought be over a chair. i sat mesmerized as i observed for some thirty minutes as these women, some younger twenties (?) to older fifties (?), recited aloud various math solutions and liberian history facts. it was moving to have these ladies belt out the liberian national anthem.
at one point, one of the teachers who had sat in on my teacher training course introduced me to the class. she was extraordinarily generous in her introduction and the impact i had on her as a teacher despite her many years of teaching. the class applauded me.
but i felt compelled to stand up instead and applaud them. here were fifty women who has been overlooked by the system and who live difficult lives of selling various and sundry things at the market and who had decided to undertake the difficult and humbling process of education. how remarkable these simple yet motivated women these were. my heart beat at a different rate as it expanded just looking at their weathered faces. the depth of the obstacles they were attempting to overcome was exemplified by a lady in the third row was looking at me full in the face with eagerness to learn while breast-feeding her child on her lap.
i pray for God's grace on these women as they learn. may God reward their hard and courageous work.

ministry of education

this morning i went to the ministry of education. located on broad street downtown monrovia, the ministry occupies a major multi-story building. our meeting was on the sixth floor. picture walking into a relatively downtrodden building and as you begin to ascend the staircase the light animating the bustling activity outside gradually recedes into almost pitch darkness. the stairwell lights were not on (for lack of a working generator?) and people were literally using their cell phones to light their path as they trod the lightless stairs. tis baffling, frustrating and pitiable.
gratefully, before descending the stairs, the juice for the lights was found.

mayor of monrovia, capital of liberia

on saturday, i went to city hall and was able to meet with the mayor of monrovia (the capital of liberia), ophelia hoff saytumah, with two other people. she has been mayor since 2001.
she was very friendly and cordial.
i do not know much about her politics or other things of note, but try to swallow this unbelievable combination of statistics:
--monrovia has ballooned to 1.5 million people
--her budget for the city is $500,000. for everything. last year it was $300,000.

as far as i understand, the mayor of the sprawling suburb paynesville where i reside has such a small budget that the dept. does not have a vehicle and neither does the mayor; he has to catch a taxi to go to work.

woefully behind

my relative silence on this blog could indicate at least two things: absolute boredom and a lack of anything to write, or an overabundance of activity such that i rarely have the energy to sit down and type things out. as you have surmised, it is clearly closer to the latter. throw in a troubled generator, a spotty internet connection, and more fully developed relationships with the neighborhood and you begin to see the picture.
on top of these things a group of fourteen from the states arrived a week ago today and then left today. it was a pleasure to have them here. a group of five guys from the states arrived tonight who are going to be doing construction.
i am continuing on with my educational activities.
and i hope to be blogging a little more consistently.

city adventure

yesterday, dodging rain and traffic, rufus, with james as driver, gave me a tour of parts of monrovia. i was able to see many of the government buildings, the university, the port and spend a little time walking downtown.
two things of note:
first, when trying to go to the port we needed to show identification. i did not have mine. however, we were let through with the expectation that we would grease their palms on the way out. it was my first liberian experience with bribery.
second, for some reason we only seem to buy gas a gallon or maybe two at a time. thus the gauge is always hovering on empty. while we were driving through one of the busiest markets outside of monrovia our car ran out of gas. as the cars began to honk, rufus and i jumped out to push. right away someone yelled out "white man's car broke down" followed by a general laugh. i too could not help but laugh.

jan and i

i have blogged about jan before. but here finally is a picture of the man.
jan (pronounced yan), a south african police officer, and i had many an adventure as we walked the muddy streets and narrow footpaths in paynesville meeting people, trying new food, encountering animals, and talking about life in africa.
it was a pleasure to spend time with jan as he was constantly bubbling over with hearty laughter and a godly spirit - exhibited in his love for God and his love for his neighbor. thanks for the adventures jan.

photo challenges

i had been trying for a number of days now to get photos up on this site so you could visually take in what i am seeing. but for some reason (maybe the speed of the internet here or my impatience) it seemed as though photos were always loading and never posting.
well yesterday, i was able to utilize google's picasa to post my first photo. in my excitement, i "posted" 5 more. unfortunately i found that only one of the five actually worked. not sure why.
this evening i am hesitantly trying again.

9th grade class

this is a photo of the ninth grade class i taught the first week i was in liberia. they are from the isaac a. david school in paynesville. it was a joy to work with them. not surprisingly, they were just like my students at monte vista. here a girl is putting a math problem on the board. we were working on preparing for the national exam they had this past week.
by liberian standards this classroom is well-equiped. despite having only a bare cement floor, aged wooden desks, and limited school supplies, it does have lighting (note the glow from the bare bulb in the upper right hand corner; electricity from a generator), and a roof. i saw a school today that needed to change locations during the rainy season because it did not have a roof.

abode

this has been my place of residence for the past two weeks. this photo is taken from within the compound that contains three residences. this building is the largest and is used for guests. christine, the smallest of the children on the compound, is walking in front of the camera. and there is blue sky - something not seen very often in this rainy season.

rufus and family

here is a photo of rufus and his lovely wife, naomi, and his son, rueben.
rufus has been a friend, a tremendous help, an advocate, a resource, a pastor, and a tour guide for me. i started to email with rufus when i was still in the states as he helped me organize and plan this trip. not only has be been the above for me, he is also the national head of r.e.a.p., an associate pastor, and a husband and father.
this photo is taken outside of the main house on the compound where i am staying.

gas

gas in liberia is about $3.50. much like in california.
except
how it is dispensed.
it makes sense that in the backwoods of thailand that i would see a "gas station" dispensing fuel out of a 50 gallon drum.
but in liberia (as i tried to describe in the previous post) is post-civilization. if you happen to be on a cement road, you pull of the road into the dirt to a "gas station". it has a simple awning, often a name painted on it, and maybe even gas pumps. but this is not how you receive it.
instead, on the ground you will see a line-up of maybe 1-6 individual one gallon glass jars filled with various shades of pink unleaded fuel. and maybe one or two one gallon glass jars of dark brown, almost black diesel fuel.
when you pull up, they ask you how much you want and you tell them you want one or two gallons. inevitably it is a teenage boy, with a thirty-something man looking on, who pulls out an old plastic oil can with the bottom cut off and a hose affixed to the top. it is through this contraption that they pour the gas in your tank.
they get the gas to their station in ten gallon plastic jugs from which they siphon (with their mouth) the gas into the jars.
by the way, i have seen a few stickers on the jars. mayonnaise.
and of course you must pay with cash. no credit or anything else spoken here.

july 4

independence day.
the connections between liberia and america run deep. so it was not surprising to see a few cars with american flags and people here and there with american flags on their shirts. most liberians that i have spoken with speak highly of the united states but with some misgivings and a general distrust of our current president. almost universally they want a democrat in office with the next election. those that i have spoken with see the republicans as too quick to embrace war. and for all the fighting liberia has seen, they know they want no part.
in general the day went as ususal for me: teaching two classes of kids in the morning and two sessions for teachers in the afternoon. but for the fourth i wanted to go into monrovia. gradually i have found that i live in the 'burbs. as i commute to work in the morning, i along with hundreds of others, all head in the direction of monrovia, the capital. up to this point i had never even made it that far (things have been too busy or heavy rain has not made it possible).
my driver and a friend of his drove me into the city and showed me around. unlike other cities that are lit up like a christmas tree, monrovia is shrouded in virtual darkness. there is no general electricity in the city. if there is to be light, one must be wealthy enough to own a generator and have the money to fuel it--this excludes most.
the last time the roads were repaired to any noticable extent was probably fifteen years ago. it is a little odd to be driving in the dark going through the capital of the city and only vaguely (only in parts) seeing markings on the roads for lanes. in most places there are the shells of streetlights lining the road but they house no light. most buildings are blanketed in darkness. along the road there are people selling their wares by candle, lamp, or by mini generators.
the buildings by and large fit into three categories: (1) half-built and left in disrepair (because of the war), (2) grey and ramshackle, or (3) fairly nice but obstructed and hidden by 10 foot walls topped with forboding razor wire and/or broken glass (and maybe a guard or two at the gate). something seemed amiss as we were driving around looking through the darkness at the lack of light and sound.
though people could be seen on the sides of the road it seemed as though it were from some hollywood movie that depicted life in a city post civilization. take for example the executive mansion and the parliament building - absolutely black - no light whatsoever.
the only seemingly anachronistic thing about the above statement is the pervasiveness of cell phones.
so after visiting the american embassy and learning that the party was at the ambassadors house - and i was not invited, i went to a fancy hotel to drink a beer.
i brought my two liberian friends in with me and we had beers (liberian, and not much different from a bud light) and sushi. it was the first time i had been in air conditioning since i arrived and i must say it was quite nice. also the sushi was quite good. the best part of the whole experience was watching my friends who probably rarely even go into a restaurant like this eat something totally foreign to them. eat raw fish! why? nevertheless they liked it and especially liked the pickled ginger.
no fireworks in liberia. ever since the war, fireworks have been illegal. but after we returned to the car and started to drive home, the rain started again.
ah, this is liberian fireworks. the rain pounded the roof of the car echoing sounds almost equivalent to fireworks. i dropped the guys off at their home and drove the car home the rest of the way. it seemed as if i was in a boat going down a river. and as soon as i parked and opened the door to run to the house i was drenched.
ah, it is good to be here.

heat again

today was the first day i have encountered with no rain.
it was hot.
however, not as hot as i thought it might become. maybe i am acclimating to the temperature.
there was modest cloud cover and a fairly regular breeze provided a much welcomed respite from the humidity that clings to your body.
after i dried off a little from my walk to the school, i made it through my first two classes with little noticable sweat. but after eating a little i joined harvey and some boys in football (for americans, what we call soccer is football.). despite being a great deal of fun, it was a partial mistake. my shirt hugged me like a wet sponge. my khaki pants displayed darker blotches of sweat here and there.
i walked into my next class where i was teaching teachers a little embarrassed at my appearance.
such is the heat here.

traffic

one would think that going from los angeles to santa cruz to the suburbs of monrovia, liberia, the general amount of traffic would decrease. this is definitively true for the first part of the equation but traffic here can be a frustration.
this morning the traffic was so bad, i told my driver, james, i could get to the school more quickly if i walked. he laughed.
the road i take is two lanes. it is a mixture of cement and washboard mud. the cars, suvs, trucks and taxis (the vast majority of the vehicles) move relatively quickly on the pavement but come to a quick virtual stop when it comes time to manuever the washboard.
today the traffic was backed up far before the one particularly bad area so i asked james to pull over so i could get out. he encouraged me to wait it out but i wanted to get to the students.
i jumped out and walked the rest of the way.
and i paid attention to the cars. i got to my destination well before any cars i recognized made it down the road. just like l.a. except there i would have no where to walk.

lunch hospitality

though church was good, the most magnificent part of the day was easily my time with a young couple i have become friends with here. they invited me to their house after church. they are a young couple who married in 2002 and have one toddler son
through the rain we walked in what appeared to be a rain forest. we took a small, muddy footpath until we reached a small two room building made of cement block, plaster, with a tin roof.
only one room was theirs. and this was not a one room apt. u.s. style. it was one room. the room had no electricity, no lights (other than a lamp), no water, no plumbing. it only had a four chairs, a coffee table, a bed on the floor, a small table with various things on it, a crib (used for storage), two dowel rods in adjacent corners with clothes and a leaking roof. life was simple yet challenging.
imagine cooking all your meals on a small charcoal fire in the rain. or sharing an outhouse with twelve other people. getting water from a well. walking every day about a 1/2 mile on a muddy, slippery path to get to the road just to hail a taxi (not a quick process).
the couple served me like a king. the food was excellent and the conversation was engaging.
while we were eating, some of the men from the church just dropped in and asked for food (not uncommon or rude).
during the course of the meal i thought many times about the many young couples i know. very few of them have an easy or even comfortable life. but once again, the many comforts we have (that are definitively not a bad thing) are things that i take for granted so easily.
i wish i could relate all of our conversation. george bush. charles taylor. culture. food. but the stories of the war that occurred here always capture my attention. just after they were married, this couple fled the country and were refugees in guinea. while in the refugee camp the lived in a large tent with fifty people. no privacy. no distinctions. they only had a small suitcase...
i am exceedingly grateful for the relationships i am developing here.
God is good despite the trouble i see all around me. these people live his goodness.

church

sunday morning i went to church with rufus. not only is he the acting director of r.e.a.p. but he is also an ordained minister. he is the assistant pastor of the pagos island baptist church. this sunday he picked me up and we took a taxi part of the way to the church then walked up the muddy hillside the rest of the way.
i could hear music and singing from distorted speakers as we drew near to what looked like a large delapitated mansion. the front room of the house, which was only partly completed (like the rest of the house) and was partially open to the elements, was used for the church. a single medium sized room.
the three hour service started with only about twenty people but the numbers grew to probably double of that as the service progressed. the singing was exuberant and full-bodied. everyone sang with their lungs billowing with all the air they could muster. the drum and percussion loudly kept the beat. my body moved to the rhythm and i joined with all around me as we praised God.
rufus preached on prov. 31:10f. he talked about what qualities a godly woman should have to win the heart of a godly man. he did an admirable job.
the church at one point praised God for 10 new plastic chairs they had received as a donation and blessed the chairs to God's service.
the prayer requests were humbling and the praises too made the struggles of my life seem inconsequential.
at one point they asked me to stand and introduce myself. i thanked them and gave them greetings from my church and family. how exciting and interesting it would be to bring the two churches together. God is so good and he works differently with different people. as they sang"you are welcome" and danced and one by one greeted me, i prayed God's blessing on them.