A 1993 Mitsubishi Montero. Here she is:
Wednesday, June 21, 2006
Monday, June 19, 2006
Price Family Update--Cars, Kids, and Croissance
Things are wet in Cotonou.
Great Lakes Avenue turned into one big lake this past weekend. The water slowly drains into the soft sand, but until then, it’s about 18 inches of water covering mud et al. What makes it even more pleasant is the open sewers mix together with the puddles of rainwater. Nothing like the smell of raw sewage in the morning!
Fortunately, the road crews leveled off the other main dirt road, so we can easily pass through there for the first time in 18 months. If we had a car. Last Tuesday was the last time we will ever drive our four-door Corolla. We bounced our way down mini-dunes on Great Lakes Avenue and heard very bad, but brand-new, sounds emanating from under the hood. I was at a loss—we went straight to the mechanic instead of running our errands. The verdict—broken engine supports—you now, the parts that hold the engine in place, two of the three were broken! Broken! Well, the cost to repair even going the cheap route will be more than we want to spend. So, now, we’re still looking for a car, but we have no car while we are looking. On the bright side, it hasn’t rained during our trips to and from school or appointments. We’re on moto-taxis, so rain would just not be a good thing. On the brighter side, y’all must have been praying that we’d find something, because in the last twenty-four hours we have developed three strong leads on a new car.
Oh, I take that back about not raining while on moto-taxis. Sonya just walked into the Internet café dripping wet. She reports: “At least I’m dry from the waist up.” (Note: I just re-connected to the Internet, we had to disconnect when the power went out during the T-storms that just passed through.)
Cars
This morning I was waiting to meet the owner of one of those possible new cars. I was sitting at our latest favorite restaurant La Terenga, a Lebanese place. The owner saw me sitting there on the verenda reading, and offered me a free espresso. We know her and her husband well. Their son and Payton are in the same class at the French school. That just about made my day, especially when the owner of the car didn’t show up. But, while I was sitting there, another car for sale passed by--a better possibility than the one I was waiting to look at. I called the car owner I was waiting on. His kid had a school assembly that he’d forgotten about. How can I complain about that? So, tomorrow morning we look at all three new car possibilities—one owned by an American, another by a Lebanese, and another by a Korean. Hopefully, it will not be raining.
If you were wondering what I was reading when I got the free coffee—Organic Church by Neil Cole. What a great book, but don’t read it if you don’t want the rug pulled out from under your feet. Anything you might hold dear regarding how the Christian life is to be lived out might not last past the first two chapters. What do I mean? Well, what if your church’s vision statement was “Every Christian is a church planter, every home is a church, and every church building is a training center”? Or, what about this: “Lower the bar of how church is done and raise the bar of what it means to be a disciple.” I really like this idea. I shudder to think what might be in store if the global Church took these words seriously. That means I like the direction this guy is going, but I’m not sure everyone will be happy with that direction.
Beninois Churches (La Croissance Continue)
The growth continues. Croissance means growth in French, and it’s pronounced like the world-famous pastry. Another six churches were planted in Cotonou last month, according to the D.S. Moise Toumoudagou. (too-moo-da-goo). Instead of giving the news myself, I’ll let Moise speak on his own behalf and for the tremendous work of God taking place on this district and in this country.
“Once again, I give all the thanks to God for he does not stop effectively using those who put their confidence in Him. My colleagues—pastors and zone coordinators—are still instruments that the Holy Spirit has used in the past few weeks. This time, there has been something happening all over the district of Benin.
“Six new churches have been planted in the last month.
1) Boukoumbe: a medium-sized village in northwest Benin.
2) Cobly: a small town near Tanguieta also in the northwest
3) Guema: a neighborhood of Parakou in the northeast.
4) Towe: a village near Bohicon in the center of Benin.
5) So-Tchanwe: a lake village in southern Benin near Ganvie.
6) Fidjrosse: a neighborhood of Cotonou.
“Pray therefore with us that the Lord could affirm these churches that will be joining the sixteen already planted during the past six months.”
That’s an average of one church planted every week since the beginning of the year.
Man. It’s hard to keep up, but that’s what we’ll do tomorrow, as we meet to figure out how to bring the new pastors up to speed.
The Kids
They both passed to the next grade. With Parker it was not certain. He took a week of exams (yes, he’s in the second grade) to determine if he could go on. He was strong in every subject but French. He worked with a tutor, a Muslim colleague of Sonya’s when she was at the British school. She helped bring up his French enough to pass the exams. His teacher at the French school told us that he did better than some of his classmates on parts of the tests, even though he missed five of ten months of school this year. She said he would have been right at the top if he hadn’t have missed any school. Payton passed easily from kindergarten to first grade. But, next year will be a shock for him. Of course, everyone thinks Parker and Payton are French until they meet Sonya and I.
Last weekend, Payton asked me, “Do you like clean or dirty?” I asked him where in the world he came up with that question. He said I should say dirty, since girls like clean and boys like dirty. Something he heard on Disney Kids back in the States. Just too funny.
Travel
At the end of the month, Sonya, the boys, and I head for Accra. They will stay there for ten days while I go to South Africa for educational meetings. Poor me. It will be my second winter this year, however. Sonya and the boys will get to visit with some good friends, the Wattons. Then, at the end of July I go to Cape Verde Islands for two weeks, again for educational meetings, youth seminars, most of the district assembly, and a chance to speak at the graduation ceremony at the modest Bible school there.
Prayer Points
--We’re gearing up for some major decisions regarding volunteer ministries and the teaching center for this area. We’ll be able to announce something in a couple of weeks.
--We’re just trying not to get too sick. Two of us have been rumbling in the stomach area during the past week.
--Moise has been very sick with the flu during the past week, and his wife is seven months pregnant, so let me just say, she isn’t feeling too good, either.
--Some missionaries we know are dealing with a bunch of stuff. We’ve had to say goodbye to quite a few in the last few weeks. Not fun.
--All the stuff we need to catch up on. There’s lots.
Great Lakes Avenue turned into one big lake this past weekend. The water slowly drains into the soft sand, but until then, it’s about 18 inches of water covering mud et al. What makes it even more pleasant is the open sewers mix together with the puddles of rainwater. Nothing like the smell of raw sewage in the morning!
Fortunately, the road crews leveled off the other main dirt road, so we can easily pass through there for the first time in 18 months. If we had a car. Last Tuesday was the last time we will ever drive our four-door Corolla. We bounced our way down mini-dunes on Great Lakes Avenue and heard very bad, but brand-new, sounds emanating from under the hood. I was at a loss—we went straight to the mechanic instead of running our errands. The verdict—broken engine supports—you now, the parts that hold the engine in place, two of the three were broken! Broken! Well, the cost to repair even going the cheap route will be more than we want to spend. So, now, we’re still looking for a car, but we have no car while we are looking. On the bright side, it hasn’t rained during our trips to and from school or appointments. We’re on moto-taxis, so rain would just not be a good thing. On the brighter side, y’all must have been praying that we’d find something, because in the last twenty-four hours we have developed three strong leads on a new car.
Oh, I take that back about not raining while on moto-taxis. Sonya just walked into the Internet café dripping wet. She reports: “At least I’m dry from the waist up.” (Note: I just re-connected to the Internet, we had to disconnect when the power went out during the T-storms that just passed through.)
Cars
This morning I was waiting to meet the owner of one of those possible new cars. I was sitting at our latest favorite restaurant La Terenga, a Lebanese place. The owner saw me sitting there on the verenda reading, and offered me a free espresso. We know her and her husband well. Their son and Payton are in the same class at the French school. That just about made my day, especially when the owner of the car didn’t show up. But, while I was sitting there, another car for sale passed by--a better possibility than the one I was waiting to look at. I called the car owner I was waiting on. His kid had a school assembly that he’d forgotten about. How can I complain about that? So, tomorrow morning we look at all three new car possibilities—one owned by an American, another by a Lebanese, and another by a Korean. Hopefully, it will not be raining.
If you were wondering what I was reading when I got the free coffee—Organic Church by Neil Cole. What a great book, but don’t read it if you don’t want the rug pulled out from under your feet. Anything you might hold dear regarding how the Christian life is to be lived out might not last past the first two chapters. What do I mean? Well, what if your church’s vision statement was “Every Christian is a church planter, every home is a church, and every church building is a training center”? Or, what about this: “Lower the bar of how church is done and raise the bar of what it means to be a disciple.” I really like this idea. I shudder to think what might be in store if the global Church took these words seriously. That means I like the direction this guy is going, but I’m not sure everyone will be happy with that direction.
Beninois Churches (La Croissance Continue)
The growth continues. Croissance means growth in French, and it’s pronounced like the world-famous pastry. Another six churches were planted in Cotonou last month, according to the D.S. Moise Toumoudagou. (too-moo-da-goo). Instead of giving the news myself, I’ll let Moise speak on his own behalf and for the tremendous work of God taking place on this district and in this country.
“Once again, I give all the thanks to God for he does not stop effectively using those who put their confidence in Him. My colleagues—pastors and zone coordinators—are still instruments that the Holy Spirit has used in the past few weeks. This time, there has been something happening all over the district of Benin.
“Six new churches have been planted in the last month.
1) Boukoumbe: a medium-sized village in northwest Benin.
2) Cobly: a small town near Tanguieta also in the northwest
3) Guema: a neighborhood of Parakou in the northeast.
4) Towe: a village near Bohicon in the center of Benin.
5) So-Tchanwe: a lake village in southern Benin near Ganvie.
6) Fidjrosse: a neighborhood of Cotonou.
“Pray therefore with us that the Lord could affirm these churches that will be joining the sixteen already planted during the past six months.”
That’s an average of one church planted every week since the beginning of the year.
Man. It’s hard to keep up, but that’s what we’ll do tomorrow, as we meet to figure out how to bring the new pastors up to speed.
The Kids
They both passed to the next grade. With Parker it was not certain. He took a week of exams (yes, he’s in the second grade) to determine if he could go on. He was strong in every subject but French. He worked with a tutor, a Muslim colleague of Sonya’s when she was at the British school. She helped bring up his French enough to pass the exams. His teacher at the French school told us that he did better than some of his classmates on parts of the tests, even though he missed five of ten months of school this year. She said he would have been right at the top if he hadn’t have missed any school. Payton passed easily from kindergarten to first grade. But, next year will be a shock for him. Of course, everyone thinks Parker and Payton are French until they meet Sonya and I.
Last weekend, Payton asked me, “Do you like clean or dirty?” I asked him where in the world he came up with that question. He said I should say dirty, since girls like clean and boys like dirty. Something he heard on Disney Kids back in the States. Just too funny.
Travel
At the end of the month, Sonya, the boys, and I head for Accra. They will stay there for ten days while I go to South Africa for educational meetings. Poor me. It will be my second winter this year, however. Sonya and the boys will get to visit with some good friends, the Wattons. Then, at the end of July I go to Cape Verde Islands for two weeks, again for educational meetings, youth seminars, most of the district assembly, and a chance to speak at the graduation ceremony at the modest Bible school there.
Prayer Points
--We’re gearing up for some major decisions regarding volunteer ministries and the teaching center for this area. We’ll be able to announce something in a couple of weeks.
--We’re just trying not to get too sick. Two of us have been rumbling in the stomach area during the past week.
--Moise has been very sick with the flu during the past week, and his wife is seven months pregnant, so let me just say, she isn’t feeling too good, either.
--Some missionaries we know are dealing with a bunch of stuff. We’ve had to say goodbye to quite a few in the last few weeks. Not fun.
--All the stuff we need to catch up on. There’s lots.
Saturday, June 10, 2006
Yee-ah! Steers opened today in Cotonou
We just ate lunch at Steers (hamburgers) and Debonair's Pizza. We used to eat at these places all the time in Abidjan and Johannesburg. They've been working on getting these restaurants open since the beginning of the year.
I never really liked Steers hamburgers before, too chunky with who knows what beef parts. But, the one today was good, really good. I've had Steers in Dakar, Abidjan, Accra, and Jo'burg, but today's was the best. Do I sound like a homer? Maybe.
The prices are steep around $7 to $9 for burger, fries, and coke. So, we can't go all the time, but just knowing it's there is a positive thing mentally.
I'm at the Internet cafe. There's a Chinese teenager sitting across from me humming "Let It Be" by the Beatles which is playing on the sound system here. There's a French guy on the other side of the table, and a Lebanese guy and a Beninois guy on the other side of the room. I can overhear conversations in about five languages, while burping South African burgers. Just another day in Cotonou.
I never really liked Steers hamburgers before, too chunky with who knows what beef parts. But, the one today was good, really good. I've had Steers in Dakar, Abidjan, Accra, and Jo'burg, but today's was the best. Do I sound like a homer? Maybe.
The prices are steep around $7 to $9 for burger, fries, and coke. So, we can't go all the time, but just knowing it's there is a positive thing mentally.
I'm at the Internet cafe. There's a Chinese teenager sitting across from me humming "Let It Be" by the Beatles which is playing on the sound system here. There's a French guy on the other side of the table, and a Lebanese guy and a Beninois guy on the other side of the room. I can overhear conversations in about five languages, while burping South African burgers. Just another day in Cotonou.
Friday, June 09, 2006
The Ministry of Showing Up--Price Family Update 09 June 2006
The MVNU team has left me much to think about.
I thought about how we entered a village in Togo. This “small” village has over 3,000 inhabitants and has many more Togolais who call this village their hometown.
I remember meeting with the chief. I remember how he repeated three or four times how glad he was that we came to see him. He had heard we were coming. He waited for us in the morning, then at noon. He was relieved when we arrived that afternoon. You see, it would have been embarrassing for him if we did not show up. He would have felt slighted, maybe even lost face among his people. But, instead, we honored him just by being there.
But there’s more to it. Cyrille, the regional missionary working in Togo, had paid a visit a couple of weeks before. Villagers get wary of strangers coming in and talking about planting churches. They are afraid of a wanna-be “big man” coming to town selling spiritual “snake oil” and then leaving town with the money offerings and leaving a trail of broken beginnings of people’s faith in something more to this life. Cyrille had told them that he was part of the Church of the Nazarene International. He did not come alone or only in his name, but in the name of Christ and a church family from around the world.
The village chief told us that day during our visit that Cyrille was true to his word. He believed him to be a man of truth, since we were evidence that the Church of the Nazarene is truly International. I added that when the Church of the Nazarene is finally planted in that village, it will be one of 16,000 churches spread around the globe. Alo-gebo, the name of that village in southern Togo, will be known and prayed for by hundreds even thousands of fellow believers around the globe. The chief smiled and his council applauded. And, you know that when we arrived in that place, we came as ambassadors for Christ, all because we showed up.
A week later, we visited Ouidah, the site of the Temple of Pythons, the sacred center of the voudun traditional religion. We did not pass out tracts or do a gospel puppet show or preach on the street corners shouting quotations of the Roman Road. Instead, we piled out of the bus and walked around the temple square, praying as we walked underneath the ancient tree filled with fruit bats, past the women selling chickens for traditional sacrifices, and among the half-dressed children.
We knelt down to look in the face of children, speak greetings in Fon to the women there, and pray. We saturated that place for a few minutes with the presence of Christ. We simply showed up. We stood together with Africans, not as ones who know more or have more, but as equals. By simply showing up. We stood in solidarity. We stood and shared a taste of the kingdom of God with them. By simply showing up. We arrived in the name of Christ. We went as Christ’s ambassadors. By simply showing up. We know an African pastor and African evangelistic team will be better at presenting the Gospel message and planting a church in Ouidah. We wanted to prepare the soil. By simply showing up.
I thought about how we entered a village in Togo. This “small” village has over 3,000 inhabitants and has many more Togolais who call this village their hometown.
I remember meeting with the chief. I remember how he repeated three or four times how glad he was that we came to see him. He had heard we were coming. He waited for us in the morning, then at noon. He was relieved when we arrived that afternoon. You see, it would have been embarrassing for him if we did not show up. He would have felt slighted, maybe even lost face among his people. But, instead, we honored him just by being there.
But there’s more to it. Cyrille, the regional missionary working in Togo, had paid a visit a couple of weeks before. Villagers get wary of strangers coming in and talking about planting churches. They are afraid of a wanna-be “big man” coming to town selling spiritual “snake oil” and then leaving town with the money offerings and leaving a trail of broken beginnings of people’s faith in something more to this life. Cyrille had told them that he was part of the Church of the Nazarene International. He did not come alone or only in his name, but in the name of Christ and a church family from around the world.
The village chief told us that day during our visit that Cyrille was true to his word. He believed him to be a man of truth, since we were evidence that the Church of the Nazarene is truly International. I added that when the Church of the Nazarene is finally planted in that village, it will be one of 16,000 churches spread around the globe. Alo-gebo, the name of that village in southern Togo, will be known and prayed for by hundreds even thousands of fellow believers around the globe. The chief smiled and his council applauded. And, you know that when we arrived in that place, we came as ambassadors for Christ, all because we showed up.
A week later, we visited Ouidah, the site of the Temple of Pythons, the sacred center of the voudun traditional religion. We did not pass out tracts or do a gospel puppet show or preach on the street corners shouting quotations of the Roman Road. Instead, we piled out of the bus and walked around the temple square, praying as we walked underneath the ancient tree filled with fruit bats, past the women selling chickens for traditional sacrifices, and among the half-dressed children.
We knelt down to look in the face of children, speak greetings in Fon to the women there, and pray. We saturated that place for a few minutes with the presence of Christ. We simply showed up. We stood together with Africans, not as ones who know more or have more, but as equals. By simply showing up. We stood in solidarity. We stood and shared a taste of the kingdom of God with them. By simply showing up. We arrived in the name of Christ. We went as Christ’s ambassadors. By simply showing up. We know an African pastor and African evangelistic team will be better at presenting the Gospel message and planting a church in Ouidah. We wanted to prepare the soil. By simply showing up.
Wednesday, June 07, 2006
Authority (Almost) Always Wins
Authority (Almost) Always Wins
Yesterday Sonya and I went to the post office to pick up a box. It was dated Dec 2005. We thought, oh no, someone sent us Christmas stuff. We hoped it wouldn’t cost much for storage. That’s right, the post office charges storage if you pick it up seven days after arrival. What would five months cost?
We found out there was not just one box but two. One from close friends in Kansas City and another one from our LINKS district from last year. They only charged $14 for storage, which I paid only because they were Christmas presents.
Then, after getting the boxes we have to take them to the douane (customs officer) dressed in military fatigues. He cut the boxes open and riffled through them. The items were obviously gifts. However, the value box on both boxes showed each box contained over $100 in value. So, he fiddled with a calculator and said I owed $114 in customs fees. I said I didn’t have that much. He said, how much could you pay. I said, $6. He laughed, and then realized I wasn’t smiling or joking. He turned and went to big boss’s office. He came out and tried to deal with me.
I said these were obviously gifts. I decided I would not pay anything. About that time Sonya walked in with Payton. She started to get upset. The customs officer said, please calm down, ma’am. He said, I’m not yelling in order to show respect in front of your children. I said, you could show respect to my kids by letting them have their Christmas presents. About that time, Sonya leaned down to Payton and asked him to try to cry (maybe I jest or maybe not).
The customs officer explained that all items are charged customs fees according to their value, whether they are gifts or not. Sonya said, this isn’t a car at the port, just some Legos and Poptarts. He said, if a car was sent as a gift, it would still have fees. I said, if you know someone who would like to send a car as a gift, please give them my address.
Sonya talked about how we’ve never paid customs fees, maybe things were not getting better in Benin, got mad, and walked away. I told the officer, We just returned to Benin three weeks ago, because we like Benin and we like the people here, but when stuff like this occurs, it makes me think “Ca ne va pas encore changer” The new president’s campaign slogan was “Ca va changer” (Things are going to change). Sonya came back and starting rattling away, most of it was in French. I threw up my hands and stormed away and even left the building. I was ready just to leave the stuff there.
As soon as I got to car, Sonya came walking out holding both boxes. She said, I’m not sure what happened, but one guy blinked at the other, and the customs officer shooed me away and said take them and go. So I did.
Sonya said, we just acted the way Africans do in similar situation, and the sad thing is, it just worked. We spent the next hour coming down off our adrenaline high. We were pretty wasted, just by going to the post office.
During this whole episode we did not get “angry” or berate anyone. We did show genuine frustration at the whole thing. We bickered long enough to get our stuff, I guess.
So, last night we had a Christmas party in June.
The moral of the story is: If you send us stuff, do not put a value of more than $20 on the box. And, pray for us and for the system that everyone who lives here has to endure in order to do the simplest tasks.
Yesterday Sonya and I went to the post office to pick up a box. It was dated Dec 2005. We thought, oh no, someone sent us Christmas stuff. We hoped it wouldn’t cost much for storage. That’s right, the post office charges storage if you pick it up seven days after arrival. What would five months cost?
We found out there was not just one box but two. One from close friends in Kansas City and another one from our LINKS district from last year. They only charged $14 for storage, which I paid only because they were Christmas presents.
Then, after getting the boxes we have to take them to the douane (customs officer) dressed in military fatigues. He cut the boxes open and riffled through them. The items were obviously gifts. However, the value box on both boxes showed each box contained over $100 in value. So, he fiddled with a calculator and said I owed $114 in customs fees. I said I didn’t have that much. He said, how much could you pay. I said, $6. He laughed, and then realized I wasn’t smiling or joking. He turned and went to big boss’s office. He came out and tried to deal with me.
I said these were obviously gifts. I decided I would not pay anything. About that time Sonya walked in with Payton. She started to get upset. The customs officer said, please calm down, ma’am. He said, I’m not yelling in order to show respect in front of your children. I said, you could show respect to my kids by letting them have their Christmas presents. About that time, Sonya leaned down to Payton and asked him to try to cry (maybe I jest or maybe not).
The customs officer explained that all items are charged customs fees according to their value, whether they are gifts or not. Sonya said, this isn’t a car at the port, just some Legos and Poptarts. He said, if a car was sent as a gift, it would still have fees. I said, if you know someone who would like to send a car as a gift, please give them my address.
Sonya talked about how we’ve never paid customs fees, maybe things were not getting better in Benin, got mad, and walked away. I told the officer, We just returned to Benin three weeks ago, because we like Benin and we like the people here, but when stuff like this occurs, it makes me think “Ca ne va pas encore changer” The new president’s campaign slogan was “Ca va changer” (Things are going to change). Sonya came back and starting rattling away, most of it was in French. I threw up my hands and stormed away and even left the building. I was ready just to leave the stuff there.
As soon as I got to car, Sonya came walking out holding both boxes. She said, I’m not sure what happened, but one guy blinked at the other, and the customs officer shooed me away and said take them and go. So I did.
Sonya said, we just acted the way Africans do in similar situation, and the sad thing is, it just worked. We spent the next hour coming down off our adrenaline high. We were pretty wasted, just by going to the post office.
During this whole episode we did not get “angry” or berate anyone. We did show genuine frustration at the whole thing. We bickered long enough to get our stuff, I guess.
So, last night we had a Christmas party in June.
The moral of the story is: If you send us stuff, do not put a value of more than $20 on the box. And, pray for us and for the system that everyone who lives here has to endure in order to do the simplest tasks.
Tuesday, June 06, 2006
MVNU Team Departs
We put the team on the plane last night without a problem but with many tears. Moise, our D.S. in Benin, said he hoped many on the team heard a call from God to return to West Africa as missionaries. Cyrille, the ministry coordinator for this area, told the team that they had the best attitude and most energy of any team he'd ever been around. With that, Moise prayed for them and we all hugged and cried. They left for home in and around Ohio, and then I went home too.
Price Family Update -- MVNU Team Update
Okay, so it’s been a while since the last post. Here’s a brief overview of the MVNU Joining Hands trip to Benin and Togo
In a word—amazing.
We had a rooftop cookout and played games with MKs from three organizations; we sang worship songs with American, Irish, English, and Canadian ex-pats; we crossed an international border between Benin and Togo with 13 foreigners in tow with no problems; we sang songs on the roadside while we waited to cross a bridge closed due to a tipped over semi-trailer; we were pulled over at a police checkpoint just after dark outside Lome, when the backdoor of the bus slammed shut, someone said, “I think I just peed a little bit in my pants” and we did our best not to laugh out loud; we worshipped outdoors in Tsevie, Togo until it rained and then crammed into a small classroom to finish the service; we learned to sing French African worship choruses; we spoke Fon in the Dan Tokpa outdoor market while we saw the sights and smelled the smells; we prayed as we walked through the voodoo section; we walked across a trash heap to get on a boat to go to Ganvie where we saw the bright faces of young new Christians (children outnumbered adults two to one); we gave an African mama seven bucks so a baby could get treatment for a serious case of malaria; we bartered and bantered with merchants at the tourist market; we talked about all sorts of ethical problems and current events during our hours in the bus; we blew a tire at 60 miles an hour; we spent the day in Abomey with an American mom, her three month old daughter, and visiting mother; hopefully, we were a good witness to them since they are not believers; we saw baobab trees along the roadside; we saw a real live African king from Nigeria; we bought material and had African clothes made; we learned how to put on an African headdress; we learned what it’s like to break a foot in West Africa; we played football and exchanged E-mail addresses with teenagers in two different schools in Cotonou; we played video games with Parker and Payton (and taught them how to be good Jedis); we gave away toothbrushes and lollipops to children; we held, learned the names of, and played with the neighborhood kids; we watched them smile and laugh at us silly yovos; we can finish the song every kid can sing that goes, “Yovo, yovo, bon soir . . .”; we talked with, asked questions to, and prayed with the chief in a village Alo-Kebo where Cyrille is planting a new church; we did the Hokey Pokey with three hundred women and children in the same village; we watched a voudon priest give his life to Jesus Christ in a small Beninois village; we walked in prayer around the sacred square in Ouidah the voodoo capital where the Temple of Pythons is located; we ate Indian food in an African restaurant while the TV played a 50 Cent video; we also tried Thai food, French crepes, and Italian pizza made by people from those countries; we discovered Nutella; we played with the kids and talked with the people there and made them laugh; we were invited by Ignace, our driver, to his house and prayed with his family; we ate nasty good African food; we painted two large rooms and the stairwell in our house; we built a web site for the Price family; we watched Taylor when American Idol; we killed two rats and a dozen cockroaches in our garage; we locked ourselves out of our house, endured nights without electricity and days without water, munched on fishheads and French pastries, swam in the Atlantic Ocean, pulled in fish nets out of the ocean with local villagers, and drank the milk directly from coconut shells; we took boats, buses, and moto-taxis to places we never imagined.
And, now, we want to do it all over again.
Prayer Requests:
We stay healthy.
We take time to rest together as a family.
We get full phone service restored.
We go the whole week with water and electricity.
We find a new car (we're close).
We find the resources to have an NYI training session in Benin.
We find a teaching space for our pastor training course.
We continue to keep up with the churches and new pastors in Benin and Togo.
In a word—amazing.
We had a rooftop cookout and played games with MKs from three organizations; we sang worship songs with American, Irish, English, and Canadian ex-pats; we crossed an international border between Benin and Togo with 13 foreigners in tow with no problems; we sang songs on the roadside while we waited to cross a bridge closed due to a tipped over semi-trailer; we were pulled over at a police checkpoint just after dark outside Lome, when the backdoor of the bus slammed shut, someone said, “I think I just peed a little bit in my pants” and we did our best not to laugh out loud; we worshipped outdoors in Tsevie, Togo until it rained and then crammed into a small classroom to finish the service; we learned to sing French African worship choruses; we spoke Fon in the Dan Tokpa outdoor market while we saw the sights and smelled the smells; we prayed as we walked through the voodoo section; we walked across a trash heap to get on a boat to go to Ganvie where we saw the bright faces of young new Christians (children outnumbered adults two to one); we gave an African mama seven bucks so a baby could get treatment for a serious case of malaria; we bartered and bantered with merchants at the tourist market; we talked about all sorts of ethical problems and current events during our hours in the bus; we blew a tire at 60 miles an hour; we spent the day in Abomey with an American mom, her three month old daughter, and visiting mother; hopefully, we were a good witness to them since they are not believers; we saw baobab trees along the roadside; we saw a real live African king from Nigeria; we bought material and had African clothes made; we learned how to put on an African headdress; we learned what it’s like to break a foot in West Africa; we played football and exchanged E-mail addresses with teenagers in two different schools in Cotonou; we played video games with Parker and Payton (and taught them how to be good Jedis); we gave away toothbrushes and lollipops to children; we held, learned the names of, and played with the neighborhood kids; we watched them smile and laugh at us silly yovos; we can finish the song every kid can sing that goes, “Yovo, yovo, bon soir . . .”; we talked with, asked questions to, and prayed with the chief in a village Alo-Kebo where Cyrille is planting a new church; we did the Hokey Pokey with three hundred women and children in the same village; we watched a voudon priest give his life to Jesus Christ in a small Beninois village; we walked in prayer around the sacred square in Ouidah the voodoo capital where the Temple of Pythons is located; we ate Indian food in an African restaurant while the TV played a 50 Cent video; we also tried Thai food, French crepes, and Italian pizza made by people from those countries; we discovered Nutella; we played with the kids and talked with the people there and made them laugh; we were invited by Ignace, our driver, to his house and prayed with his family; we ate nasty good African food; we painted two large rooms and the stairwell in our house; we built a web site for the Price family; we watched Taylor when American Idol; we killed two rats and a dozen cockroaches in our garage; we locked ourselves out of our house, endured nights without electricity and days without water, munched on fishheads and French pastries, swam in the Atlantic Ocean, pulled in fish nets out of the ocean with local villagers, and drank the milk directly from coconut shells; we took boats, buses, and moto-taxis to places we never imagined.
And, now, we want to do it all over again.
Prayer Requests:
We stay healthy.
We take time to rest together as a family.
We get full phone service restored.
We go the whole week with water and electricity.
We find a new car (we're close).
We find the resources to have an NYI training session in Benin.
We find a teaching space for our pastor training course.
We continue to keep up with the churches and new pastors in Benin and Togo.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)