Tuesday, July 03, 2007

SPLASHDOWN! And Return to Home Sweat Home

Weather: Partly Cloudy and dry this morning after four days of almost continuous rain. Rain since we arrived Sunday night: approximately six inches. Daytime temps when sunny mid 80s, when cloudy upper 70's. Night time temps mid 60's

We splashed down at Lake Robertsfield International Airport at 5:00pm Sunday. It took us an hour to finally get out: the customs official tried to shake us down for the $150.00 printer we brought in for non-profit use. After getting nowhere for $50.00, she let us pass, then asked us for "something small." This is the first time airport officials have tried to shake us down in a while, but it is not a good sign. It indicates that after an initial crackdown on this kind of stuff, things may be getting slimy again. We'll let you know.

We got home at around 8:00pm and here it is Tuesday already and we are still trying to get organized. The battery on the car is dead, and there are some signs of wear and tear on the house since we left, but otherwise it feels like home. One of our dogs, Jackie, finally died from her congenital digestive disorder, banded crows got all our chicks, and the pig busted up the pen and the neighbors had to do some repair work that cost us some limbs off our mango trees. Temps are cool, although I still sweat if I do any work at all. Working to get the car up and running in the rain and my own sweat was a trip.

They tell us the area has been hammered by four days of non-stop steady rain. Everywhere there are new potholes, swamps, flooded areas, giant puddles, and people hanging stuff out to dry.

It is good to be back to Liberian normal.

Our last pic from the US of A--- some our our faithful pals seeing us off. Mary Vermuelen with daughters Anneka(sp?) and Abbey(sp? I know I'm bad) and our "home base managers" Janette and Dale Vanderveen.
Home to puddles-- our street heading out to the main road.
This pond was a soccer field when we left. Come January, it shall be again.
The main road to the city. Folks drying laundry and tarps in the brief respite from the rains.