Compassion
Graffiti on the wall of a Liberian Displaced Person’s Camp home. “He that bring(s) bread brings life.” Below it is written Proverbs 17:1 “It is better to eat a dry crust of bread with peace (of mind) than have a banquet in a house full of trouble.” I wonder about the person who wrote this. I wonder about what they’d been through and where they are now. I know two things: they knew what it meant to be truly hungry, and they realized that any food eaten in peace (not the midst of war) is received with gratitude. I’d love to have sat down with this person. I know they could teach me much about bread, peace, and compassion. I think about bread bringing life, and I turn to my favorite “Jesus Word:” Compassion. In Matthew 9:36, the writer says of my Jesus, “when he saw the crowds, he had compassion on them, because they were harassed and helpless, like sheep without a shepherd.” Then Jesus said, “The harvest is plentiful but the workers are few. Ask the Lord of the harvest, therefore, to send out workers into his harvest field. Compassion. It’s my favorite “Jesus Word.” It’s a word I need to install more in my life and actions. It’s a word that I don’t need to travel to another continent to use. Compassion is just as needed in Beauregard Parish, Louisiana as it is in Africa. Compassion. Lord, teach me your compassion.
Monkey Bridges And Cell Phones
Monkey Bridges and Cell Phones This bamboo bridge is over a creek near Liberia’s Ricks Institute School. It is nicknamed the “Monkey Bridge.” You can see the laden residents crossing it. They were much faster than we shaky legged Americans.We were taken to the nearby villages of Massaquio and Peterstown. Our guide was Joseph Dennis, financial director for Ricks. Mr. Joseph is shown in front of the only church in the village. He is talking on his cell phone. The Liberians really enjoyed our story of no cell phones working in “our American village of Dry Creek.” Mr. Joseph replied, “Here you can be out in the bush up a coconut tree shaking loose a coconut and your cell phone may ring.” In the end, it is always about relationships. No matter where you are, who you are, or what you’re doing, life’s quality is ultimately measured in our relationships. Friends, family, and fellow travelers remain long after the material “things” of life rust, fade, and disappear. Here is Colleen Iles Glaser walking with one of her new Liberian friends. If you’d like to read about the most important relationship in my life, click on http://www.whativaluemost.com and type in Curt Iles.
Carrying Food
This girl balances a tray of dried fish on her head. It is amazing the items that are carried on top of heads in Africa. The donut girls have arrived. These enterprising girls found us every morning with their donuts.
A Visit To The Orphanage
A visit to the Comfort K. Doe Orphanage Brewerville, Liberia My sister Colleen with one of the youngest children at the Doe Orphanage. One of the memorable highlights of our trip was visiting with the children at the Doe Orphanage. Three of the teenage boys (Joseph, Chris, and David shown in background) attend Ricks Institute on scholarship. The orphanage began during the darkest days of the Liberian civil war. Rev. and Mrs. Doe (shown below) began gathering orphans and taking them in. To escape the fighting, they moved up and down the Atlantic Coast with their children. They finally settled in Brewerville, a Monrovian suburb near the St. Paul River. The main building at Doe Orphanage was built by Irish Army Peacekeepers in 2005. I love the Irish proverb, “Praise the young and they will flourish.” These are two heroes, Rev. Doe and his wife Comfort. They are examples of what followers of Jesus do for the hurting and fatherless. Rev. Doe can be reached at htoepeter@yahoo.com. The road to the Doe Orphanage. The street sign shows that we are at the intersection of “Main St. and Praise St.” How you can help Doe Orphanage: Pray for the children/Pray for Rev. and Mrs. Doe who are very elderly/They have laid the foundation for a school at Doe and need help. Footprints from Liberia We’ll be adding photos and stories from our trip to Liberia from our trip to Liberia.
Pineapple And Rain
DeDe had an African birthday yesterday (July 14) and received this birthday pineapple from Marcus Perkins. Flooding caused near Monrovia by last week’s rains
Liberian Flag
The Liberian flag is very similar to the U.S. flag.The 11 stripes represent the original eleven signers of their declaration of independence.The one large white star with a blue background represents unity.
Africa: The Joys of a Bucket Bath
Notes from Africa: The Joys of a Bucket Bath Waste not, Want not. Going green in Liberia Steps to a great bucket bath: 1. Heat up a tea kettle and pan of water on the gas stove. 2.Pour hot water (carefully) into bucket in tub. 3. Let cool, but not too much. Get your soap and rag.. 4.Enjoy a refreshing bucket bath. 5. Put bucket underneath sink and brush your teeth (with filtered water. Do not waste.)Let sink water drain into bucket. 6. Pour water from bucket into commode tank and flush thoroughly. 7.You’ve just used about two gallons of water to take care of multiple needs, enjoying every step of the way. When you know there will be long stretches of water during a day, you learn to cherish and store it. It’s amazing how wasteful I am in America.I run tap water the entire time I’m brushing my teeth, flush numerous times daily, and don’t consider things I watch closely in Africa. I handed one of our guests a second paper towel at a meal and he politely waved me off. He’d never consider using a second paper towel when he is holding one. The same thing is true with food.Portions are much smaller and nothing is wasted.One of our teacher friends enjoyed eating her chicken bones, getting nutrition out of every bite. We are fortunate our lunches contain chicken or fish—this is unheard of in Liberia.Rice, beans, and greens are the staples.Even now folks are saving up for July 26, Liberia’s Independence Day.They’ll splurge on food that day and some folks will eat meat for one of the few days of the entire year. Electricity.You never know when it’s going to be on or off.You learn to enjoy it and plan for when it’s off. I share these thoughts not to make anyone feel guilty. Just thankful. Gratitude is one of the hallmarks of this country, where they have so little.(We saw a taxi whose driver had evidently survived the war. Painted on his taxi was,“Thank God I made it.” It says a great deal. Thank God. I thank Him too.
Hoping Liberia
Alvin Sompon and Abrahim A. Sarnor Words from the future of Africa. Alvin’s words on Service. Alvin is a rising senior at Ricks Institute. He is the son of the Ag teacher here. He’s been sharing with me about service. Here are a few of his thoughts: “Service is guiding the younger people to serve the older people of our community. One project we are doing is in the Displaced Camps near our school. (These are people who’ve not left the refugee camps). We’ve started with small jobs in taking care of the roads, teaching games to the children. Service is started with small steps and we move to other communities. Small steps. “We cannot do extraordinary things. We can do small things in extraordinary ways.” -Mother Teresa. Abrahim’s speaks of volunteering. He is a recent Ricks graduate and the current student body president. Here are some words from him. “Volunteerism is what we do because we want to, not because we are made to. It is not done for pay. “We need foreign investors, but we should not depend on them to do what we can do ourselves. Teaching children about morality and doing good is a job we all can do.” Abrahim can be reached at sarnorabrahim@yahoo.com as well as on Facebook.
Marcus Perkins Liberia
Marcus Perkins Marcus and his Garden President Obama’s weekend visit to West Africa was big news inLiberia. We only heard sound bites from the BBC radio as we rode in a vehicle. Our Liberian friends told about the president’s words including phrases like: “We must start from the simple premise thatAfrica’s future is up to Africans.” To the youth, who make up the majority of the population, he stated, “You have the power to hold your leaders accountable, and to build institutions that serve the people. As I heard these words, I thought about Marcus’ garden. Marcus is our “house host” atRicksSchool. His work-study program is to take care of the guesthouse and visitors. He does it with a passion and joy that quickly catches your attention. He took me to his garden. It is a patch of corn, peppers, cassava (a root crop similar to sweet potatoes) okra, and beans. Beaming, he said, “I can probably sell my crop for two—even three American dollars and use it to get ahead. Marcus, age 18, is basically an orphan of the civil war that rages for two decades. He came to Ricks and would not leave, serving as a volunteer and living in an empty dorm. He was later admitted toRicksSchoolwhere his tuition is paid by an American he “does not know.” He is ninth grader due to the years “stolen by the locusts” and working hard to catch up academically. With his attitude and commitment, there is no doubt he will. Marcus is one point of light of the future ofAfrica. Our president was right: the future ofAfricais in the hands of Africans—especially the youth of the continent. He, and his garden, are symbols of the future ofAfrica. A young person with a vision and drive to move forward, anchored in a deep faith in God, realizing his gaining a good education is the key to a better life. From my vantage point, the crop looks like it’s growing well. Keep growing, Curt Iles P.S.Ricks is regarded as the “best school inLiberia.”Its dedicated teachers and hungry students are wonderful to know. Their greatest needs: Prayer Scholarships for needy students ($750 US dollars per semester) Work group to come/fund building renovations.
In Liberia
Good eating at Ricks. This is our wonderful cook each day for lunch, Mrs. Musu. She’s cooked plenty of what I call “soul food.” We’ve had collard greens, potato greens, fish gravy (like catfish couvillian), and cabbage with chicken. This is how Ricks Institute. This is staff housing. Notice the palm trees. The palm nuts are a major source of food for Liberians.
Liberia
Kid Magnets in Liberia We’re proud to be members of the Liberian Kid Magnet Club at the Ricks Institute. The four of us, DeDe, Colleen, Gordy and me, are bonafide “kid magnets” at Ricks School. Colleen is shown with two students, Patience and Steven. Their father Maurice is a long time French teacher at Ricks. Maurice, a native of nearby Cote d’Ivoire (Ivory Coast). We’ve really enjoyed building relationships with the teachers. Quote of the day from one of our new friends who laughingly told us, “Liberians cry when it rains, and then complain with the sun shines.” We quickly told him that is prevalent among Americans too.” I’ll say this: They’ve had a lot more crying than usual. It is rainy. God is good and is teaching us so much. Tomorrow we journey into “town.” (Monrovia) for supplies and an orphanage visit.
Don Hunt
Looking at NYC from Newark International Airport 5:30 PM EDT We’ve arrived in fine form from our Houston flight. At 6 PM, we’ll catch an overnight flight to Brussels, Belgium. Two highlights of the day: We left early this morning to see two special friends, Don and Ginny Hunt. Bro. Don, our former pastor is in Houston’s M.D. Anderson receiving cancer treatment. It was such a thrill to see him and his famous smile and Christ-like attitude. No hospital bed or disease can take away his infectious joy in the Lord. Bro. Don had a great deal to do with the missions outlook the four of us have developed. God used him to help our church look outward to a world needing to hear the good news about Jesus. So to stand in a hospital room with Mrs. Ginny and him was a special moment. He prayed a powerful prayer for our trip that none of us will ever forget. (L to R) DeDe, Curt, Gordy, Ginny Hunt, and Colleen We are “taking him on our trip” as we travel on to Africa. Paul’s words in Philippians 1:3, “I thank my God every time I remember you” applies to Don and Ginny Hunt. Our next stop was the Houston International Airport. The first people we encountered in line were Terry and Carla Coleman, our neighbors from nearby Longville, La. The Colemans and their daughter-in-law and granddaughter were on their way to Ireland. They’re going to meet their son Coty who is serving as a journeyman (2 year) missionary in South Asia. (Coty and our son Terry “bumped into each other” last year in India. As they say, “it’s a small world.) We’ve followed Coty’s service in Asia and were thrilled to be with his folks. We were all on the same flight to NYC. The Coleman’s on their way to Ireland We’ve been reminded that a mission trip truly begins the minute you pull out of your driveway. There are no coincidences or accidents along the road of serving God. Pray for Don and Ginny Hunt, Coty Coleman and his family during their first visit in 15 months, and pray for the Dry Creek Four* as we cross the Atlantic and head to Liberia. *Gordy and Colleen Glaser, Curt and DeDe Iles .
Log Float on the Calcasieu A Good Place
Special thanks to my friend Joe Chaney for inspiring this scene. A Good Place, the upcoming novel from Creekbank Stories Curt’s followup novel to The Wayfaring Stranger should be ready later in 2009. We’ll keep you posted as we know more. Set in 1863, it tells the story of Joe and Eliza Moore through the eyes of their son Mayo. My favorite scene in the book features a group of Ten Mile men floating rafts of the huge pine logs down the Calcasieu River to the sawmills in Lake Charles. Mayo tells of what happens: Caleb, riding with Unk out front, said, “I’ve got to get away from that singing, before I drown him.” They let their lead raft drift close to the shady east bank. Just as they went under a low hanging willow limb, they began hollering. At first, we couldn’t make out their words and were puzzled as they dove into the river. When they came up, I heard Unk, “Wasts. Wasts.” Unk was hard to understand at times, so I turned to Daddy. “Did he say ‘wasts?’” “I believe they got into a wasp nest.” By now, the second raft, occupied by Pistol and Dan, neared the same limb. Dan’s singing stopped abruptly as he and his daddy tried like crazy to steer clear of the limb. However, it was too late as hundreds of angry wasps awaited their arrival. I heard Pistol hollering, “Abandon ship. Abandon ship.” We laughed as they plunged into the river. Ben’s raft was next, and he hollered, “I can’t swim a lick. I’m just gonna hang on.” He lay down on his raft trying to paddle with his hand away from the limb. He took his hat off and fought them off as the raft went under the limb. Luckily, they had spread out, and there weren’t as many to fend off. Seeing the futility of fighting them with his hat, he rolled up in a ball, covering his head. We could hear his muffled voice praying one sentence, and airing his lungs out cussing the next. Ahead of us were three rafts, two of them empty, and one manned by a fellow alternating between swearing and entreating the Lord. Three men were in the water and one-my uncle was still yelling, “Wasts. Wasts. Watch those wasts.” Now it was our turn. Daddy didn’t even try to steer our raft away, instead saying, “Let’s get in the water and hang on the side of our raft.” Trying to forget about alligators, I eased into the water. As we floated under the limb, Daddy said, “Look at the size of that nest. It’s as big as a pumpkin.” Hundreds of red wasps were on it as well as swarming around. One popped me on the hand and I yelled. Daddy thought it was real funny until one stung him on the ear. Our yelling and movement attracted a whole wasp patrol on us and he said, “Get under.” Before I could go under, several stung me, including one right on the end of my nose. I dove under and stayed there until my lungs burned. When I came up, we’d cleared the limb and were out of the cloud of wasps. The other swimmers, now re-boarded, seemed to be enjoying our part of the show. At the next bend, everyone pulled up to lick our wounds and compare notes. Most of the men had dozens of stings. Pistol got his knife out, scraping bark off one of the logs. He dug down into the tree, scooping up pinesap, and daubed it on his stings. Everyone followed his example, except his son Dan, who spit out his chew of tobacco and began daubing it on his stings. By now the humor of the situation began to sink in. Dan began mocking Unk, “ Wast. Wast. Watch out for the wasts.” My uncle smiled, “ I was just trying to warn you fellows.” This was followed by Daddy mimicking Pistol, “Abandon Ship. Abandon Ship” as he poked our leader, “When your captain says ‘abandon ship,’ you know it’s a bad situation.” Everyone laughed, and we talked about it for the rest of the float, embellishing every word and sting with each retelling. Soon, our encounter even had a name, “The Battle of Wast Bend.”
Clay Iles in Mali, Africa
Clay Iles in Mali, Africa Our oldest son Clay just returned from a memorable trip among the Bozo tribe in Mali, Africa. To read about it and see photos, click on http://www.suemanakomina.blogspot.com/
