As the nights get longer and the days get shorter in the States, I miss crisp Fall air, warm apple pies, and rosy noses from late afternoon walks in crunchy leaves. Fall is my favorite time of year and I wish I could be there to enjoy it.

But Guinea has so much that the U.S. doesn’t. Many evenings I carry Annika on my back while pushing Amelie in a red umbrella stroller. Together we go on long walks down dusty roads past young men playing soccer and cows grazing to the edge of town where the road turns into a foot path. We see endless fields of tall, brown grass, rolling hills dotted with thatch roofed huts, and children playing with handmade tin can cars. As we pass each mud-brick home, everyone looks up from their work, stops to greet, and watches us walk by.

I can’t really imagine a life in the U.S. without knowledge of Guinea. And I can’t imagine life in Guinea without memories of the U.S.. Please pray for me as I create new memories for our family that include things I love about both of my homes and embrace life in the only place the girls call home.

In college I interned in two churches under the children’s directors. At BBC I had the opportunity to learn from one of the most creative children’s directors I have ever met. She wrote her own VBS programs, each Sunday morning children’s program, camps, and special presentations from scratch. I’m pretty sure she was super-woman in the creative department. I had a lot to learn.

It was about that time I began thinking about writing children’s curriculum. I always knew it wouldn’t be my first career, or even a career that would take shape early in life; rather a third or fourth career that might become a focus later. Still, the itch to write is there. Occasionally I’m able to teach a class for a friend or complete a teaching project on cross- cultural studies, but it’s not the same as writing full curriculum sets.

Now that our girls are beginning to talk and get easily bored with simple toys, I find myself accumulating educational resources en masse to prepare for writing their Pre-School and kindergarten curriculum. The learning curve has been steep, and I want to do my best with homeschooling in a location that offers very few consumable or durable goods. That’s why I am starting to research and gather materials now instead of waiting until the summer before they start school. Plus, my girls are already learning colors, shapes, and the alphabet in addition to three languages (they take after their dad). Lastly, we have to plan well in advance to be adequately equipped for even the smallest goings-on here. I digress.

In my search for Pre-School activities, I came across an ABC Scripture book. It’s a very cute way to learn the alphabet, colors, and scripture in one book, but I do not have $58.50 to spend on something I can make myself. I adapted the colors and verses and created my own book during the girls’ nap time. I’d like to share it with you. It should print well on 8 ½ by 11 paper. You can laminate and spiral bind it, or print each sheet for framing. I am going to upload the book to Shutterfly and redeem a free 7×9 photo book coupon they sent me via Pampers Gifts to Grow. Let me know if you would rather have the 7×9 size, or if you see any mistakes. Lastly, this version includes colors such as pink and purple. If several of you would rather have a version for boys that include grey and yellow instead of pink and purple, I can accommodate.

Metal Anglerfish Decoration

So many of you were encouraged to visit us from reading our bug blog and downloading the subsequent free art print that our schedule is filled for the next two years with visiting short term teams! No, not really; but I did get a request for a fish print with Matthew 4:19 and I thought I would share it with you. I chose the barracuda and anglerfish because they are two fish we eat in Guinea. Anglerfish is also known as lotte and monkfish. They are both mild and (really do) taste like chicken.

Enjoy your art prints!

Barracuda

Anglerfish

Take a shower every two to four days

Learn to take a shower with less than a liter of water

Flush the toilet every third use

Use a wash and rinse tub for doing dishes: do not leave the water running. Use dirty water to flush the toilet or water plants

Use just two or three squares of toilet paper

Turn the water off when brushing your teeth

Only use one light per person in the house

Turn lights off when you leave a room

Open the blinds and curtains, and use as little electricity during the day as possible

Unplug appliances when not in use

Line dry your clothing

Grocery shop once every five to six months

Do not buy sweets and junk food

Do not eat out more than once a month

Always eat leftovers

Grow your own garden

Learn to prepare from-scratch meals

Only buy one Christmas or birthday gift per recipient. Spend less than $10 a person

Get rid of your cable bill: Sell your television

Do not go to movie theaters, borrow DVDs from others

Downgrade your $10 latte to an at home, instant coffee

Reuse plastic Ziploc bags until they have holes in them

Have a wardrobe that consists of only what you can fit in one, small closet

Borrow items from friends and neighbors instead of buying new

When possible, walk or ride your bike instead of driving

Live with less: make things do or do without

About midnight on Monday Mr. B, our guard heard rustling at the gate. He went out to find a young man trying to climb over our wall. He chased the guy off and went to his room, leaving the light on so the guy would know he was still awake. The intruder decided he really wanted our laundry tubs, so he waited outside the gate for a while, jamming rocks under it in order to block the gate from opening outward.  He then climbed over the lowest part of the wall around our courtyard where there is no broken glass, razor wire, or rusted nails sticking out the top to deter burglars. He snatched every last one of our laundry tubs, all of our wooden clothespins brought from the US, and took off running. Mr. B heard the commotion and chased the thief all the way to the intersection before he gave up.

We do laundry by hand almost every day, so Tuesday morning David had to go to the market and buy all new laundry tubs and clothespins. Even though the clothes pins were very expensive, they were rusting after just one use. It’s things like this that get under my skin. I won’t say I’m angry… but I am put off. After the eternally important meeting we had Sunday afternoon, I knew something was going to happen, but it still gets at me. I prayed for protection for my family, but didn’t think to pray for our things. I have to keep reminding myself they are just that: things.

Of course it started raining. What I didn’t expect was for people to start arriving ten minutes early. That is not typical African behavior. One by one they entered the gate, wiped their feet on the towel by the door and chose a seat in the circle while liberally spreading warm greetings.

The small room in the annex of our courtyard wasn’t anything special. A bare light bulb hung from the ceiling, and the paint on the walls was beginning to show its age. Still, everything was clean. And there was a tray with water, cups, and cookies. It seemed as though the environment was a total understatement. It didn’t come close to conveying the magnitude … the eternal significance … of the meeting that followed.

The girls and I walked over in the rain to introduce ourselves. We met some of the Christians in our town before, but not everyone. After a few minutes, I took the girls home and careened my neck out the window every few minutes to try to catch a glimpse of the deliberations. After about two hours, we heard familiar Fulbe praise and worship being sung to the Only True God.

It was amazing. In a tiny room in the middle of a random neighborhood, in a Muslim city, thousands of miles into the interior of Africa were a group of indigenous Christians singing to Jesus Christ, the Savior of the world.

Most beginnings are humble. We pray God will meet with our small group of believers and use them to plant a church that will reach the Fulbe of Guinea, West Africa with the Good News of Jesus Christ.

“Hello, Mr. B. Are you there? How are you? How is your wife?” I ask into the dark.

“I am fine. My wife is fine. How are you?” Mr. B responds from his chair on the porch where he gets better radio reception.

“I am fine.”  I reply through the screen.

“How are your girls?” He asks. “Are they sleeping?”

“They are fine.  Yes, they are sleeping.” I say. “Would you like some tea or coffee?”

“Oh yes, I would love some tea. Thank you.”

“And is your daughter there? Does she want hot chocolate?” I ask, already knowing the answer.

“Yes, she is here. She wants hot chocolate.”

“Ok, wait a minute.” I say as I make my way to the stove. The conversation is the same every night. The truth is I’ve already started the water to boil and his coffee cup is half full with a teabag, one scoop of milk powder, and one scoop of sugar. He loves hot chocolate much more than tea, but I generally save that for his daughters. And coffee keeps him awake until late in the night, so that is usually reserved for especially cold afternoons.

I deliver two steaming coffee cups that warm their hearts; or at least warm their bellies, and make my way back into the house leaving the solar light on so they can see. I rarely talk to Mr. B in the evenings, as that is prime radio listening time. There are four stations that can be heard in Labe: RFI, BBC, and two local stations. We haven’t heard BBC broadcast in quite some time, and the other stations come and go with the electricity but can generally be heard between dinner and bedtime.

Sometimes, when the girls are playing outside, or have gone down for a late afternoon nap, and when Mr. B is sitting on his blue plastic chair on the porch, I am able to talk to him. We talk about a lot of things, but mostly we talk about the things of God. He can recite more Bible stories than most American adults, I think. It’s fascinating for me to hear the stories from a Guinean point of view. He knows the stories so well; I think I’ve only corrected him once. During many of our conversations, Mr. B will get out a children’s picture Bible that was given to him and recount page after page of Biblical history. He points out all the characters illustrated and tells me everything he knows about each one. I often ask him how the stories relate to his life, or how they impact us today.

More often sooner than later, Jesus is the person of interest and we begin talking about how to get to paradise (heaven). By this time, I feel quite comfortable speaking the sometimes difficult truths of scripture because I have earned the right by daily sowing into his life. Little things like giving a cup of coffee, sharing cookies with his girls, praying for him and his family, and meeting felt needs open doors for explaining the Good News. If it only costs a scoop of milk, sugar, and cocoa powder to share the Gospel with someone, that’s a price I’m willing to pay.

A few years ago, we introduced you to Mr. B. He and his daughter were featured in a video we complied and shared with supporters while on home assignment. Mr. B is primarily our guard; but he is a language helper, a community liaison, helps with the laundry, washes our floors once every week or two, and since he loves flowers he is our gardener too. We are extremely blessed to have him as part of our family, and he is completely trustworthy, a rare moral attribute in this part of the world.

Mr. B is about 72 years old. He isn’t exactly sure of the year he was born, but he knows he was born when the French governed Guinea. Mr. B is married to one wife and has seven children; the oldest an 18 year old boy and six girls. His youngest girls are a set of twins just two months older than ours.

Life is difficult in Guinea. If a Guinean lives past childhood, he or she may very well live to be elderly. Poor healthcare and inadequate education cause a 6.1% infant mortality rate in Guinea. Mr. B is privileged to have worked for expatriates who provided good medical care for him and his family for more than 20 years.

In early 2008, the Lord impressed upon my heart the need to be very proactive in sharing the Gospel and took every opportunity I could to share Bible truths with him. I wasn’t sure if I was saying goodbye to Mr. B for the last time when we left Guinea in 2009 for home assignment.

Thankfully, God enabled Mr. B to faithfully watch our house and tend our garden while we were in the States. But we can see the years starting to show on his wrinkled face. He moves more slowly, he often falls asleep in his chair on the porch in the hot afternoon shade, he is often ill, has carpal tunnel syndrome, and cataracts have taken most of his sight.

Tomorrow morning, David plans to take Mr. B to Sightsavers; “an international charity which works with partners to eliminate avoidable blindness and promote equality of opportunity for disabled people in the developing world.” Their initial appointment was more than a month ago. Mr. B was given eye drops to prepare his eyes for surgery, and told to return after Ramadan.

Will you pray for peace through the process, a successful surgery, and for salvation for Mr. B? We know that God is able to give him sight in more ways than one.

For your consideration:

Kesso: An Autobiography of a Peul Princess by Kesso Barry gives a glimpse into life in Guinea during a time of tumultuous transition from colonization to independence from France in 1958. Email me if you are interested in adding this to your winter reading list.

Did you know I have a creative side? And a dry sense of humor?

In honor of yesterday’s post, I thought I would share a free, original art print. Enjoy the humor, and pray for us when you see it “lying around” your house!

This original art will print well on 8½ x 11 card stock. You may frame it or display it on its own.

“You’re not cut out for Africa” David said.

“You think wives in Africa like their husbands putting cockroaches in the bed?” I questioned. Obviously, we have a difference of opinion on whether or not wildlife should co-exist in close quarters with (wo)man.

That was, by the way, the largest cockroach I had seen to date. Gross!

A few weeks later, I had a very bizarre dream. (Not out of the norm, as I have full-action, full-color, highly intense dreams every time I sleep.) My dream this particular night was that I fed colleagues pasta with millipedes.

They live on the tree in our driveway, and I am afraid they are going to fall on my head every time I beat out a rug on its trunk. In the dream, they started crawling out of the bowl and got into my hair. I woke up, and my whole head itched. I immediately prayed that if there was anything in my hair that God would get it out, and kill it. Really.

The next morning as I was making the bed, I saw a pile of dead cockroaches beside my pillow. I stopped counting at 13 as I swept them into the dustpan. (God answers prayer!)

On your next visit to Labe, shake out your slippers in the morning or you may find this little fellow greeting you…

…or this large one:

While here, we will provide you with the nicest accommodations possible and the finest cuisine (see aforementioned pasta). The cula were recently evicted from your suite:

As was this brown widow spider:

(Source)

And don’t worry about the bats in the guesthouse ceiling. We’re working on getting rid of those for you too.

If you spend time admiring the flowers around our house, you may see this huge, hissing beetle that attacked and bit Amelie three times yesterday…

…or a cute little inchworm. See it on the stick?

Maybe we’ll take you to an extremely remote mountain to pray. If you’re quiet, once we park under a lone tree and sit down in its shade to pray for the surrounding villages, An Eastern Green Mamba could slide down the trunk, out on a limb next to us, drop to the ground, and slither away. It will probably be the brightest green snake you have ever seen. (Totally hypothetically speaking, of course… eh-hem…)

(Source)

If you want, you can swap snake stories with our colleagues who were visited by this three foot spitting cobra:

In the early morning as we drive you back down the mountains on your way to Conakry; just as the sun is rising over a million thatched roof huts, you might spy a troop of monkeys:

But, then again, maybe you won’t see anything but vultures sitting on the neighbor’s unfinished house.

Either way, we’ll be excited to see you!