Our well has become too dirty to use.  We are having it enlarged and lining the sides with concrete rings to make it cleaner.  We also hope to install an electric well pump.  Here are some interesting details.  Our well is currently 45 feet (14 meters) deep and about 3 feet (one meter) across.  The water at the bottom is about 16 feet (5 meters) deep.  We are enlarging it to about 4 feet (1.3 meters) across.  We will deepen it if it does not seem to be producing enough water as the workers finish widening it.  It will take about 24 concrete rings about 60 centimeters high each to reach the top of the well.  The concrete lining should prevent dirt from the sides from falling into the water at the bottom.  All the work is done by hand including drawing up all the water at the bottom so the workers can dig.

Amelie (right) and Annika (left) showing off their “hair pretties”

Twin babies seeing twin sheep

Amelie and Annika looking into the room where the Fulbe believers meet

Looking over the wall

Who’s out there?

Can we come in and play?

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

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.

“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.

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.

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 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!

There are many great things about rainy season in Guinea. The sun isn’t so scorching, for starters. Everything turns green, and we have more electricity because of the hydro-electric dam.

And then, there are the not-so-great things about rainy season. Primarily the mold. It’s everywhere. Mold grows on everything from walls to clothing that doesn’t dry properly. It’s currently on our kitchen ceiling:

Our roof is leaking, and David can’t find where the water’s coming in. Bummer, since I just repainted it last Tuesday. David climbed up on the roof yesterday to plug the hole, but can’t find it. (He also came back with a tale about fighting off a giant spider… I’m not sure I believe him.) I have one ear listening for the ceiling to come crashing down from the weight of the pooling water. There’s also an animal living up there. It scurries around at night after the light’s been turned off. I sure hope he doesn’t come crashing into the kitchen too. Pray we find and can patch the leak before the rain ruins our ceiling!