tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-128302022024-03-07T13:53:11.659+00:00The Reeds in LiberiaThe continuing saga of Bob, Renita, Hannah, and Noah-- four ordinary Americans trying to figure out what Dancin' with the One Whut Brung 'Em means. Currently, it means being servants to the people of Liberia, and being served in return. What does that look like? Pay attention and find out with them!The Reeds in the Windhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12861913317985600596noreply@blogger.comBlogger767125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12830202.post-75367912554156328052009-01-15T04:19:00.010+00:002009-03-24T11:29:17.497+00:00Its Ghana!<span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="color:#006600;"><span style="font-size:180%;color:#003300;">The Reeds in West Africa</span> </span></span><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="color:#006600;"><br /><br /></span></span><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#006600;">After a year of waiting patiently for some word from us on next steps, we are thrilled to be able to give you the big news. Today Renita and I accepted positions with Partners Worldwide and Christian Reformed World Relief Committee, respectively. We will be returning to West Africa.<br /><br />These are both regional positions supporting efforts in Senegal, Sierra Leone, Niger, Nigeria, Mali, Ghana, Côte d'Ivoire, and Liberia. That's right-- Liberia! The plan is to live near Accra, Ghana-- which is only 700 miles from Monrovia-- about two hours by air. Accra is perfectly situated for the work we will be doing. It is centrally located to the entire region. Check out the map and reference the other countries where CRWRC and/or PW does its work.</span><br /><br /><br /><br /><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5291376931310622882" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 233px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgZ-nAZHYMI6eA1VH_bss_0DKmpqtQ4JR1lTmLvmKTcPVlxl0Iyg98aEKGoXP8cehE3Tb_fW5bDcspcJAaY5PaK9pSSsaGzpQ2OnZkOPo6_IP0D4ThJM7x74zTH-e43vy5ckwTIA/s400/West-Africa-map2%5D.jpg" border="0" /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#006600;">There is a lot more we need to tell you, when we start, who will leave when, the details of our work, the kids' schooling, and the whole process of setting up an effort in a country where neither organization currently operates. So, we all get to be pioneers of sorts again. Which is ok with us. You're good company. But today, we just wanted to give you the good news.<br /><br />I'll be digging up more for you soon, so stay tuned to the <em>Reeds in the Wind</em> blog.</span></p><p align="center"><a href="http://www.reedsinthewind.blogspot.com/"><span style="font-size:130%;">http://www.reedsinthewind.blogspot.com/</span></a></p>The Reeds in the Windhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12861913317985600596noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12830202.post-85967347758914815212009-01-05T18:59:00.005+00:002009-03-24T11:25:25.405+00:00The Reeds in the Wind<span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;color:#006600;">Hi folks! I'm very happy to announce the creation of our new blog-- </span><br /><div><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;"><span style="color:#006600;"><span style="color:#000066;"><em>The Reeds in the Wind</em></span> at</span> </span><a href="http://www.reedsinthewind.blogspot.com/"><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;">http://www.reedsinthewind.blogspot.com/</span></a></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;"></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;"><span style="color:#6600cc;">Our new email address</span> </span><a href="mailto:reedsinthewind@gmail.com"><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;">reedsinthewind@gmail.com</span></a></div><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ffcc00;">(You can still use any of the ones you have though.)</span><br /><div><span style="font-size:130%;"></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;color:#990000;"><span style="color:#ff6666;">Since this is not "goodbye," but simply "HEY! We're usually over <em>THERE </em>now!" I'll spare us all the tear-jerking.</span> </span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;color:#990000;"></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;color:#990000;">And we're are not finished with our Liberia activity, but I'll most likely post it in <em>Reeds in the Wind. </em>So please hop over there. </span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;color:#990000;"></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;color:#ff6600;">Thanks so much for your interest in <em>The Reeds in Liberia.</em></span></div><br /><div></div><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287897509702000802" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 319px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyWv9dz6IBu5FWpTr4YvKdAnZa2xF1WB3M6afow4mtpwlVAZ4IpsCZChElhr-3DaLw9VPEYGkBgJ6mSNP6uEW2tptsI-jcOgovEsN9dH-bOWumzvCQqUN6hrZ1bQ8QvgKIHI8eig/s400/IMG_8715.JPG" border="0" /> <p align="center">"A bruised Reed He will not break." I hope. Yers Trooly just finishing up the new blog this afternoon.</p>The Reeds in the Windhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12861913317985600596noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12830202.post-80628385984781777252008-12-30T17:15:00.008+00:002008-12-31T09:56:53.832+00:00The quiet<div align="left"><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 0);font-family:verdana;" >Hi folks. I missed you, so I thought I'd mosey on over here. '<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Tis</span> that time of year, that post holiday season when in Michigan the cold is almost unrelenting and its cloudy and the days are short. Everything seems to be in hibernation. I call this time the Dead of Winter. </span></div><div align="left"><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 0);font-family:verdana;" >A number of you have told me that we have become a part of your lives during the past four years. That is so kind, it's hard for me to believe it. It's an honor.<br /><br /></span></div><div align="left"><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 0);font-family:Verdana;" ></span> </div><div align="left"><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 0);font-family:verdana;" >Around our new digs in Grand Rapids, our days have morphed from jumbled into a nice routine. <span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 0);font-family:verdana;" >Our</span></span><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 0);font-family:verdana;" > adjustment to Michigan weather and culture has been quick. Hannah and Noah are doing great in school. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Renita</span> and I continue to visit with friends and family, and meet with folks about future vocational configurations. We remain uncertain about next steps, but we are seeing signs emerging from the fog. We are eager to pass any news on to you.<br /><br /></span></div><div align="left"><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 0);font-family:Verdana;" ></span> </div><div align="left"><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 0);font-family:Verdana;" >Thank you for paying attention to this blog these past 42 months. Thanks for sticking with us as we make our way through this time of transition.</span></div><p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdDL-craRV9p6iF0whgRM0QD2bjsCYYm_ePiKGdVylg-ccTkoh6QhUMsZSwmlxrCJdOUbWWlQtFp_cWf0bN-RtKDPyPD3i52kwYAmJ5Q0Ou6IG5-wSCtdq3mqpxM-LN8bUGJkeKw/s1600-h/back+yard.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285666622953948754" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 400px; height: 191px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdDL-craRV9p6iF0whgRM0QD2bjsCYYm_ePiKGdVylg-ccTkoh6QhUMsZSwmlxrCJdOUbWWlQtFp_cWf0bN-RtKDPyPD3i52kwYAmJ5Q0Ou6IG5-wSCtdq3mqpxM-LN8bUGJkeKw/s400/back+yard.jpg" border="0" /></a> <span style="font-size:85%;">Our quiet back yard in the Dead of Winter. Too cold to have coffee together on the deck.</span></p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285707659199211458" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 400px; height: 267px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiived5gab6Q9rxmlzFPnOO_Qea56VBel62qnMqc7Xbhy7IT8jVQEIPhp8ohflmBR90vdyIUZz3LbZb81pWZehZJLhatLGeqIFPoHWpBo_V_0pqe9K0IztkUCsWNvidouz8QeLoog/s400/IMG_8661.JPG" border="0" /> <p align="center"><span style="font-size:85%;">Our trip to my parents' house Sunday. 100 miles in two hours, even with the storm. In Liberia, it might take three or four hours on a good day. The reason I show pictures like this is because some of you are not Michiganders, and don't see this much. </span><br /><br /></p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285707656595989138" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 400px; height: 300px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKb7CjqxZkkE7HQs1PXPYnTgj7ScCiliRDpwBSDwes0iw6mvo8bgIsGuYulbNgBLIKAO92TZ7yI43hOggXOAf7tZG5EqEA9GDgkbiirt3_1TGuL8OrxmzE5JaKuV_CQt8tNSvlzQ/s400/hannah.JPG" border="0" /> <p align="center"><span style="font-size:85%;">Back home, part of the routine is <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">shovelin</span>'. Hannah is a chip off her <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">ol</span>' dad, who's a chip off his <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">ol</span>' mom. We love the task. No humidity!<br /></span><br /></p><div align="center"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285707664171709314" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 400px; height: 300px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbB0_IiWpAwWeZfZY7JCwrhYv9EpsSZTyvva4Dt5YA8LKSs1G6s7WdSkPs6Be-3sp3coveugu_yYgR-7sd2_n-WG3SSJe9Hu2LMC1ps5EDHtCIJvKIprwndbXGIAVwPfYC0iGQ0w/s400/IMG_8699.JPG" border="0" /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiR8GUb3pAv8SUDNJvK7TXMyYkDYA8jrIqH-RQ5kWLhGu_5yQ_30e-lQTCiotfhPsHCoTEkhw2FjYt-5K7jjek-SDU5OBLC1mGqWpylzQPcPlbahQ4y4ueu7VtDimlVz3OWIkUxCw/s1600-h/noah.jpg"></a><span style="font-size:85%;"> Inside, the Reeds are a bit subdued. Noah online.</span><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFftyZQIca1-DKCtsCOawYz53hcufTcdaVcgcXHQD7Tl1_L4dhAayVckse1HaRv4J-tfElEKQ1Jte46N55onR6TplHdvv2jbSaiv8aCn-KNHdC18HITh6peSppSFM-HbX9t1xrjg/s1600-h/IMG_8666.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285666607001688146" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 400px; height: 310px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFftyZQIca1-DKCtsCOawYz53hcufTcdaVcgcXHQD7Tl1_L4dhAayVckse1HaRv4J-tfElEKQ1Jte46N55onR6TplHdvv2jbSaiv8aCn-KNHdC18HITh6peSppSFM-HbX9t1xrjg/s400/IMG_8666.JPG" border="0" /></a> <span style="font-size:85%;">Hannah, back inside, reads in our cozy living room.<br /></span><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMk0cVVZZrVG1NA_EWaK7GibqUE1qUEryfmWNNTIshUzGlc-OJUJYe0UWZpYBxs_SkGpIQhLctxDK7w0jY7ZQ3PFa30STBSukT2KlL7Y4ppSQihVfBGCrGVECf7DLg1o6CJewEiw/s1600-h/IMG_8663.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285666605416586930" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 400px; height: 325px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMk0cVVZZrVG1NA_EWaK7GibqUE1qUEryfmWNNTIshUzGlc-OJUJYe0UWZpYBxs_SkGpIQhLctxDK7w0jY7ZQ3PFa30STBSukT2KlL7Y4ppSQihVfBGCrGVECf7DLg1o6CJewEiw/s400/IMG_8663.JPG" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;"> My lovely betrothed at work completing <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">today's</span> emails from the bedroom.</span><br /></div><div><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285666617456051394" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 400px; height: 300px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFBfVBm3CoUZ2N4NqEoU6LN_9x8CUKfgzRdLvIczvrFT7KpaTIYuDFZiMIcvNzx1f0ECqbnLSL2QmeofCcf-PJPzwYMMPWzUFQzJJXAIESCROB-29eZwW4dYv6IzU0BlzKj3JXMw/s400/IMG_8673.JPG" border="0" /><span style="font-size:85%;">And from a puffy but getting-it-together <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">Yers</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">Trooly</span>... thanks for meeting me here.</span><br /><div> </div></div></div><br /></div>The Reeds in the Windhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12861913317985600596noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12830202.post-48115146869398663952008-12-16T13:52:00.013+00:002008-12-17T12:28:18.680+00:00Preparing for The Blog Sleep<span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#336666;"><em>Weather: Moderate snowfall the past few days with temperatures in the mid 20'sF. Steady winds bring wind chills down to 7F. About four inches of snow currently on the ground. Wet roads turn to ice, making driving hazardous.</em></span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#330033;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#330033;">For the twelve of you who follow this blog regularly, it looks like our post day is becoming moree irregular. In Liberia, because there is a 4-5 hour time difference, I could get up on Monday, figure out what to write, put it together, and still post it by the time it was Monday morning in the US. Here, by the time I'm ready, the morning has passed and so I figure, "aw I'll let it go until tomorrow." I know a couple of our readers are in other countries, and the post time is different anyway, but I alwways thought of Monday morning EST as my posting deadline. </span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ffffff;">m</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#330033;">To be honest, I'm thinking it will be soon time to put this blog to rest. Its reason for existence was to invite you to join us on our journey to Liberia, to explore what happens when people of these two different cultures work together-- or not-- on following Christ. We certainly remain affected by Liberia, by the effects of our presence there. We are changed forever because of it-- but those changes are on the inside of us, and not all that apparent. I could continue writing regularly during this transition, but it seems I would be writing mostly about the activities of the Reed family: "We went to the store. We bought a TV. We got a Christmas tree. We went to school. We came home." </span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ffffff;">m</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#330033;">Or even worse, I could write about me: "My feet are cold. I programmed the new TV. I've gained 12 pounds in three weeks. I'd like to get a bird feeder. I'm a little depressed. I'm waiting on God. I cry occasionally when I think about some people I left behind. I cry occasionally when I think of the people who continue to support us. I win most inner battles with the temptation to be petty, childish, gluttonous, withdrawn-- but the battles I lose are the ones that do the damage." I say I could do that, but then I'd have to title it something else.</span> <br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ffffff;">m</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#330033;">I do not believe this part of our journey, or my journey, is served well by the medium of a blog. This "limbo time" drives me inward for a time, not outward. As I figure out what I'm doing here, and pause in this waiting place, my day to day is spent internally, in places not accessable by camera. And words seem to trivialize the holiness of the trip, to make it about me, when it is actually about Him. Better not to write at all than to mislead anyone into thinking "The Reeds in Liberia" was actually about the Reeds. </span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ffffff;">m</span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#330033;">And yet, the twelve of you who follow this blog regularly do so for a reason. I know you are there. I don't want to communicate to you that this part of our dance with Him-- the in-between time, the limbo time, the waiting time-- is less important or less valuable than other times. The fact is, this time is maybe the most important of all. The fact is it feels too raw, too vulnerable to display on schedule every week. Its not done yet. Its not ready for posting yet.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#330033;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#330033;">So, dear and loyal friends, we are not quite finished posting here, but we just may be a bit more irregular. When it is time, we'll let "The Reeds in Liberia" sleep. God willing, there will be another blog-- when invites us to the next dance hall. </span>The Reeds in the Windhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12861913317985600596noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12830202.post-39885303363974506682008-12-08T23:31:00.010+00:002008-12-09T11:53:41.647+00:00When Change is Status Quo<div align="left"><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#000066;">Sorry this post is kinda late. Fact is, I'm still in a highly introspective condition these days. So introspective, in fact, I forgot what day it is. The Reeds are living a through paradoxical period with accompanying natural tension. We are in transition, yet in a holding pattern. We are waiting to move, yet we are moving while we wait. We are looking forward for the show to begin, fully aware that the show must go on. It is like rounding a gigantic corner with no definable corner; we just keep turning hoping our destination will emerge while in the meantime needing a sense of normalcy. Sometimes that paradox and tension and introspection gets me down.<br /><br /></span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#000066;"></span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#000066;">And I'm really missing two thirteen year old boys who live a long way away. I can't even get in touch with 'em. </span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ffffff;">p</span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#000066;"></span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#000066;"></span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#000066;"></span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#000066;">So let me just free associate and ramble. </span></div><div align="left"><span style="color:#000066;"><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;"></span></span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#000066;">The kids started school on Thursday. A great, urban, Christian, college prep school called The Potter's House. We're apparently eligible for the Free Lunch program. (Don't know if that is good or bad.)</span></div><div align="left"><span style="color:#000066;"><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;"></span></span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#000066;">We will be moving out of our friend's guest cottage soon, into a duplex which we'll be in until April. </span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ffffff;">p</span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#000066;"></span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#000066;"></span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#000066;">After three and a half years, the dry air is reintroducing me to two old foes: cracked feet and boogers. ('Tis true: there are no boogers in Liberia.)<br /><br />The night we left Liberia, armed rogues broke into the houses of two FACT members and stole the market money. About $200, all of which would have gone back into the market for improvements.</span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#000066;"></span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ffffff;">k</span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#000066;"></span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#000066;">We got hold of Vera by cell phone a couple days ago. She sounded great. She says Niki is doing well, and adjusting to her new diet: less food, less protein, and plenty of Bulgar.</span></div><div align="left"><span style="color:#000066;"><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;"></span></span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#000066;">We are more used to the enormous wealth and privilege this nation, city and state enjoy. I know that compared to other times, people here are struggling. I understand that, like adjusting to the climate, "bad" or "good," "rich" or "poor" is determined by our point of reference. So relative to my Liberian friends, Michigan is more healthy than they can imagine. Relative to past glories, Michigan is in crisis. We are more able to sympathize with fellow Michiganders who are frightened about the future.</span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#000066;"></span></div><div align="left"><span style="color:#ffffff;"><span style="font-family:Verdana;">r</span> </span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#000066;"></span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#000066;">I'm thankful for Diet Mountain Dew, but I've still gained about ten pounds in the last two weeks.</span></div><div align="left"><span style="color:#000066;"><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;"></span></span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#000066;">Shoveling snow is still invigorating. Especially when your kids do it.</span></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"><br /></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5277581642459818514" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 301px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_BrW8udPAPHna1KJqa4ftOoNawZkD8L8KNJO6j-Fh4XNM7Gec3OUqq3JBnOerkUGb_yECJkUqpDrXoug82zoDZBHSONfHLxfxotw8zSejsaf7eu8qAcO4BOG_fWlBOYPlca3AYg/s400/IMG_8625.JPG" border="0" /> <p align="center">Noah, digging through a few inches of white stuff on a very cold evening.<br /></p><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5277581649139632626" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhU7pQlE3xDSwPZakwX2uo_dvB14p6gFeXMY1Zq7gsLuyjEcFlsLQxHwgp8ciTww5ILnEPrcSd84zkG-bzTlvduapiHla6GeHoE3uBFfZiaMHoUAejzesyYuKHwL7anTMzv1lxPbg/s400/IMG_8624.JPG" border="0" /> <p align="center">Hannah says Hey!<br /><br /></p>The Reeds in the Windhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12861913317985600596noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12830202.post-61153207689531602922008-12-01T12:03:00.015+00:002008-12-04T12:33:22.354+00:00The Reeds in Limbo<div align="left"><span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0);font-family:verdana;font-size:180%;" >So<em> Now</em> What?</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0);font-family:Verdana;" ><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"></span></span></div><div align="left"><span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0);font-family:Verdana;" ><span class="blsp-spelling-error"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Ok</span></span>, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Renita</span></span> told me it wasn't a dream after all. Maybe not, but this doesn't feel quite real either. Like "don't get too settled."</span></div><div align="left"><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);font-family:Verdana;" >,</span></div><div align="left"><span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0);font-family:Verdana;" ></span> </div><div align="left"><span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0);font-family:Verdana;" ></span></div><div align="left"><span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0);font-family:Verdana;" >We've already adjusted to the cold and snow. It is not so bad and beats the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">hoo</span></span>-ha out of the humidity of Liberia. Last week, I wore the same tee shirt for two days. That would have been two hours in West Africa. </span></div><div align="left"><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);font-family:Verdana;" >,</span></div><div align="left"> </div><div align="left"></div><div align="left"><span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0);font-family:Verdana;" >The Reeds are in transition. We left Liberia and people we love because we are looking for a place where our kids can go to a good school and <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Renita</span></span> and I can devote more daytime energy working with the people in a developing country. We do not know as of yet where that will be.</span></div><div align="left"><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);font-family:Verdana;" >,</span></div><div align="left"><span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0);font-family:Verdana;" ></span> </div><div align="left"></div><div align="left"><span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0);font-family:Verdana;" >We want to keep those of you who are interested informed about what's happening in our lives as we follow this God of ours around His world. A blog is a good way to do that. But this blog is called "The Reeds in Liberia." </span><span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0);font-family:Verdana;" >The transition is out of Liberia, through Michigan USA, and into Someplace Else. </span></div><div align="left"><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);font-family:Verdana;" >,</span></div><div align="left"><span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0);font-family:Verdana;" ></span> </div><div align="left"></div><div align="left"><span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0);font-family:Verdana;" >So regarding the blog, here's the deal. We'll use this blog as home base for the transition. There are still a lot of pieces of the Reeds in Liberia anyway. I'll still post regularly, because frankly, we are doing a lot of reflecting these days. So visit us here. When we know where we are going, a new blog will be born, and we'll get together over there. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Ok</span>? <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">Ok</span>.</span></div><div align="left"><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);">,</span></div><div align="left"> </div><div align="left"></div><div align="left"><span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0);font-family:Verdana;" >Oh, and this PS: Some of you are <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">suspicious</span> that, because we did not mentioned what happened to the deer, that perhaps, well, er-- maybe we ate it. Not so! The deer found a nice fenced home, thanks to our LEAD friend, Allen <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">Gweh</span></span>. However, there seems to be a monkey in that yard, and judging by what happened last time the deer met our monk (the monkey tore the deer's tail half off), the deer will need some time to figure out friend from foe. But she's safe from the coal pots of men. Now a few pics.</span><br /><br /></div><div align="center"><span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0);font-family:Verdana;" ></span></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5274807390937105250" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 400px; height: 290px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJpX1SxiVkHwLKyBAgGtRhQeg6bQqE33uoNhHQ8Cco3821TQR3qJXBOYP7L8RrQEqkb237QSS_T7CzbQ_if_sxWESbhF2ZUHmfRpCZkZjkDYVpzpXG5RYPEI1ExPWAUOUJa6D3pQ/s400/IMG_8616.JPG" border="0" /> <p align="center">This morning. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">Hangin</span></span>' out at our <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">lil</span></span>' guest home away from wherever. Nate and Kris <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">Vander</span></span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">Stelt</span></span> are putting us up-- or putting up with us-- until the end of December.<br /></p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5274798833694279378" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 400px; height: 300px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwrw2cwKaxjQwC8JipI7x5CNif7nyjV2ELtn7mzE2aIN7jWMUBkMRFg1ZzK3dC73t1KrDu0gentSZAGQF8mKShyphenhyphenW44ME_5AYDh85Sdpp0PUCq1ht2xWgg76b-m9hoXt2ul4C83pw/s400/IMG_8598.JPG" border="0" /> <p align="center">Outside, it just ain't the same as what we've been used to...</p><p align="center"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5274808915187676082" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 400px; height: 300px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzwWKiZ_xdRsvmf9YfZNOldy6Gu8P5u7NgPuutyjqbbOTdAsidLW3PIiN7dQQ2z_IR5uDRvNY0TM_LLsx9ybzEn1ZVGcNGyTk6p8p7EWE2NPw3aGmXeD3p0ZAz_mJR5KBAiMTebg/s400/IMG_8605.JPG" border="0" /> ...but its pretty...<img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5274895003798413586" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 400px; height: 300px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgi7h-LskSoq6EarqrHukcgLl_HAuvChdLntANcY_boki7eVOM5ypiqsXAVW5Y23G-fGmFhzI3tz0dVzp5XldbMh8BXEiCOgG4UvEGeUtfG6QmtlU_e0Wg2RnAdmTd_g2wVwMPhQw/s400/IMG_8619.JPG" border="0" /> ...just the same.<br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5274895010642652946" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 400px; height: 288px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiomsGz8cik32HBXPFbD-SLHg3C903-T0vY_2L0u_37Cwj5c8m1NGXv0SNIOBgOS98Mm98JkoMOPVrsPtAzJrSB9S9LESnL8FuD0XLYPNWr6W0J5_-gkvqlR338Dk1g7MImkqON-Q/s400/IMG_8620.JPG" border="0" />Hannah and Noah tossing loosely packed frozen crystals of water.</p><p><br /></p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5274818389586736162" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 400px; height: 299px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEig_ssK4tS65UBpLuyyLlMyq1nMJiCJuq1rqw0ppsiE6Sb2aHHRBTtOlH3KkMpV9OfDjWssBaTiQLO9F-27pRMPqWBjCXlDZ7QkOsM_sMO5JVoqm5sV0X7wpu_9x4kQFb0qB64ANg/s400/Fishing.JPG" border="0" /> <p align="center">Meanwhile, 5150 miles away, boys on the beach of Buchanan watch the fishermen... </p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5274817099864209762" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 400px; height: 300px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5DVKkMHwlKVVWg44wuien9XIYxjgKXVFvPD8cBiSZG2GuDOjSXTQUQMlCzhFDiLiP2MHz6-SOsC_FoyxSYiQ41ITafAkPQkH2yQofhBVx2PGN2HGOM1jXBeULnIKbTZOeV65z2g/s400/FACT.JPG" border="0" /> <p align="center">...while FACT holds a community meeting, complete with a role play...<br /></p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5274817093421088530" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 400px; height: 300px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7Q1ECI165mvPk7nIsylmZuYiAAo3OPfKg4NWd0Yw-cFkipj4phehnIga3Y6ZA25sSy0c441FWUFzyriLzhyphenhyphen7H3BumaRH64lYq4WCGjJp2FYVP3i9Uih7Aqvc_8R1YSDtOhQF5SQ/s400/LEAD.JPG" border="0" /> <p align="center">... and <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">LEAD's</span></span> James Hillary teaches another business class...</p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5274817086217245810" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 400px; height: 290px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7hg64hxeQUhUj29Zw27zjrA6ASTM4UWTxn1BwYxQMvM0fibhh9U2IkVWfsnebhYuRlSmyMydNEaDHW8wEiLHFtSzHb8t0QW4t_S0c1jMNc6iZEucqkNVha9s8jB1ZqdRdPw61ww/s400/MPCHS.JPG" border="0" /> <p align="center">...and <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12">MPCHS's</span></span> Grace <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13">Boiwu</span></span> sits with a group of women in Johnson Town...<br /><br /><br /></p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5274816744177066754" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 400px; height: 306px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEin5bEIfw-_WO-PPgoPwJDpEN193bZCDFiEdX4bg06CK_Lxg-IZz69AKa4nQl2Lh3cfQnmghdtXKjFErS4FvVZp7F8L8I1rG_Ox2yhYaVS6NYfpq45Og_7BIv81YFvxeW6N4jCL8w/s400/3+boys.JPG" border="0" /> <p align="center">... and somewhere in Foster Town, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14">Trokon</span></span>, Enoch and Eastman are together, missing us maybe as much as we miss them.<br /></p>The Reeds in the Windhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12861913317985600596noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12830202.post-15617872655910363192008-11-24T17:59:00.006+00:002008-11-24T19:00:25.431+00:00Last Night I had the Strangest DreamHey you--<br /><br />Gotta tell ya about this one. It was one of those real long dreams-- you know, that come from a deep sleep. In it, I was in Africa-- in Liberia I think-- I was part of a family and we were doing all sorts of things there. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Strange</span> images kept coming. There was this one part where this African kid just stared at us and sang to us from up a plum tree. And another part where I was doing some teaching or something to Africans and my clothes were soaking wet... and another part where it was dark and there were these three evil smelling dudes with machetes trying to rob me and this family I was with... the robbers kept "shushing" me....<br /><br />I remember this family I was with even had a monkey and some sort of armadillo or something. And my wife was named <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Wanita</span> or something, and she was like this super woman and I remember feeling guilty because I was just some middle aged fat bald guy who <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">sweated</span> all the time. I remember being by the ocean and some kid drowned... it was weird. They seemed to keep drowning at regular intervals right through the dream.<br /><br />There was no TV or running water or <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Internet at our house</span>. We had a generator or something we ran every night for lights. We lived behind this cement block wall with glass shards and razor wire on it. We ate this really strong tasting food with snails and some kind of raccoon meat. No Burger Kings, KFCs or even 7-11s in the neighborhood either. I couldn't even find Diet Mt Dew, even though I kept looking and looking... and this all white family I started off with kept getting bigger and bigger because now these Africans-- Liberians I think-- were joining the family. And then there were these babies named <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Wanita</span> and Bob, just like me and this lady I was married to. <em>That </em>was creepy. But it was <em>so </em><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">honkin</span>' real.<br /><br />Ah but then I woke up, opened the shades and saw this:<br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJXoUfr1UW6v9xngtpWSQvbgEufGGPHnNdBuy8twz2ha3H2kUhDg0Moj5hVw8_stizzWbtMiRSWw_RJL27rXbbMdOalSbvNyONLMWFWD1BrEcBspbASrE8S-a6LvlXRMB5N1QOoQ/s1600-h/IMG_8602.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5272285448785761954" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 292px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJXoUfr1UW6v9xngtpWSQvbgEufGGPHnNdBuy8twz2ha3H2kUhDg0Moj5hVw8_stizzWbtMiRSWw_RJL27rXbbMdOalSbvNyONLMWFWD1BrEcBspbASrE8S-a6LvlXRMB5N1QOoQ/s400/IMG_8602.JPG" border="0" /></a> ... and I knew it was just a dream.<br /><br />So I went back to bed. Write more later.<br /><br />Yer Pal,<br /><br />BobThe Reeds in the Windhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12861913317985600596noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12830202.post-26256430745107042542008-11-21T16:11:00.004+00:002008-11-23T17:09:32.498+00:00Leaving Liberia, Part Six<span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:180%;">Our Last Day </span><br /><br />Friday the 21st was our last day in Liberia. None of the four of us could really grasp the idea as we went through the parting activities. We did not know what leaving meant. Now, as I write from 40,000 feet in the air, we still don't. But we all feel different from when we visited North America a year and a half ago. This time we are leaving and, unless He does something completely unforeseen and miraculous, we are not returning anytime soon. All of us feel sad about saying goodbye-- especially to a handful of young people with whom we have bonded as family.<br /><br />I'll have more to write soon about leaving Liberia, what it is meaning, how we will maintain our connection with you who read this faithfully, and what life is now like for us in this transition period. Look for another post in a few days. Right now, a few captured moments of a day filled with emotion-- our last day in Liberia.<br /></span><br /><br /><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyjsYYM_5VpXZAQtM7MExqFCnvIkaTPrUkeAJ5mh8RaqwcfZnvSYUjKAqhkqZVyQBO1ft6Aheszfjdxo9ZW8OQf30_OiZ2tQI06MLyLlDgo3aZZKCnU900bEG8GnkAn1OaB3ZxRA/s1600-h/1.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5271889083557574386" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyjsYYM_5VpXZAQtM7MExqFCnvIkaTPrUkeAJ5mh8RaqwcfZnvSYUjKAqhkqZVyQBO1ft6Aheszfjdxo9ZW8OQf30_OiZ2tQI06MLyLlDgo3aZZKCnU900bEG8GnkAn1OaB3ZxRA/s400/1.JPG" border="0" /></a> The day started with final organizing details. We ended up carrying away 12-50lb suitcases. That was it. Everything else ways sold or given away or reserved in case <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">CRCNA</span> sends paid staff here.<br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9pc99fI8edjSrU5YvAzRt0Sn_j7Oxb9VfYN2eSVlo9M3TKwbSvGecLRNt6elfjvG7eUxnL0KqEQZ4poziQSLKP3IgJP45L9_ZNb9dEz_274beg90V51NS1qeQIAmTsyRp9-Q2TQ/s1600-h/3.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5271889064192624434" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9pc99fI8edjSrU5YvAzRt0Sn_j7Oxb9VfYN2eSVlo9M3TKwbSvGecLRNt6elfjvG7eUxnL0KqEQZ4poziQSLKP3IgJP45L9_ZNb9dEz_274beg90V51NS1qeQIAmTsyRp9-Q2TQ/s400/3.JPG" border="0" /></a>By 9:00am we were checking in at the downtown Air Brussels office. Our flight <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">would</span> not leave until 9:30 pm GMT, but we wanted to dump those 12 suitcases ASAP.<br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhP8xlfYOgrcqu1ZqpA_IKlHTCi92rHmFk4G8NBR1t1QrnjF9IRnuLEIuScuTOT2rVfV8RSu61S2opQfHq14XHtp2ZRV-LQqLNEzRkGEKXurmKZ6lclMjD2hjGhNTthyphenhyphenkIt27yG8g/s1600-h/4.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5271889057442569410" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 292px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhP8xlfYOgrcqu1ZqpA_IKlHTCi92rHmFk4G8NBR1t1QrnjF9IRnuLEIuScuTOT2rVfV8RSu61S2opQfHq14XHtp2ZRV-LQqLNEzRkGEKXurmKZ6lclMjD2hjGhNTthyphenhyphenkIt27yG8g/s400/4.JPG" border="0" /></a> For the rest of the day, we said goodbye as folks came and went.<br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfgFS-PBJSK6nuqX1Yb54z6aCe2O1w93d4f5UkJrtinqmBEc6r_48yUBbdTwRkzdDMErn6lSi8UNRKVLSzErQ-qpMMWaCQx6nscUPRupYEtoj4yKrAHIThhhrruaYKteKk9rePZw/s1600-h/5.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5271888867291786178" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfgFS-PBJSK6nuqX1Yb54z6aCe2O1w93d4f5UkJrtinqmBEc6r_48yUBbdTwRkzdDMErn6lSi8UNRKVLSzErQ-qpMMWaCQx6nscUPRupYEtoj4yKrAHIThhhrruaYKteKk9rePZw/s400/5.JPG" border="0" /></a> Our next door neighbor children taking care of theirs and other people's kids. Sisters Odelle (left) and Patience Reeves, with Success "Bobby" Reeves in <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Odelle's</span> arms and Patience holding her little <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Renita</span>. Standing in front are more children dumped on the sisters, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Kopo</span> and Vera.<br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbh38bL_gnyguc5s_DpAm1dNQk9cns182lL9r-CfAqLApcN4xzIDj7kntc6XaDsibfb8DrTfFUQIyuHTq9zetfuzDPXBhK_th6iNWg6wO0LOclOO39fP2aXPeWkTpyXMKviOQcaQ/s1600-h/6.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5271888861038564770" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 265px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbh38bL_gnyguc5s_DpAm1dNQk9cns182lL9r-CfAqLApcN4xzIDj7kntc6XaDsibfb8DrTfFUQIyuHTq9zetfuzDPXBhK_th6iNWg6wO0LOclOO39fP2aXPeWkTpyXMKviOQcaQ/s400/6.JPG" border="0" /></a> During the day, we said farewell to our stuff. I only felt sad when the fans went. I would not have been able to be in Liberia without those solar powered DC fans.<br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhM8pFkjkCJBpeQ-XSQMcTEHe6HDuGG1QfPJDwHW-ngbvUvEiYdfadN762JKXqLOc11PTI1vEQvBfUv8J2fwjQfv9K0WLgUtuRGAyOu_T5cX5Wvm_NM_Kyvd0j4JXxoxvxO_OK4jA/s1600-h/7.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5271888855434727250" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 325px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhM8pFkjkCJBpeQ-XSQMcTEHe6HDuGG1QfPJDwHW-ngbvUvEiYdfadN762JKXqLOc11PTI1vEQvBfUv8J2fwjQfv9K0WLgUtuRGAyOu_T5cX5Wvm_NM_Kyvd0j4JXxoxvxO_OK4jA/s400/7.JPG" border="0" /></a> A quiet moment for Noah. One of many.<br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5qgemylLwR-8Skm0D2xiFdxmkTX96tivyOPzPK1cBrXRZ1gaXpnYQ9NcFLBoHv0icqwSFvOzvJdkFeieWpe5YGwGrHBsL61Kw00-DEyYXzMSqvb1APPvVO7wEEtDhRJeRRGAUig/s1600-h/8.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5271887852777095522" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 324px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5qgemylLwR-8Skm0D2xiFdxmkTX96tivyOPzPK1cBrXRZ1gaXpnYQ9NcFLBoHv0icqwSFvOzvJdkFeieWpe5YGwGrHBsL61Kw00-DEyYXzMSqvb1APPvVO7wEEtDhRJeRRGAUig/s400/8.JPG" border="0" /></a> Hannah, being a bit pensive in the late afternoon with only a few hows left.<br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEja0xiS44Z6d-9STj21BGPbHcdAITy9m97CwCeqWpgQaCxX6HbQG2wv-K3a5T9mc2YEaB2vW09x02ctJiUGgB18tJViV7Hj0VENxuCLXPLjeB9VwnBiDpehe2IOepP5Mdy8f6YK4A/s1600-h/9.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5271887849498319954" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 286px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEja0xiS44Z6d-9STj21BGPbHcdAITy9m97CwCeqWpgQaCxX6HbQG2wv-K3a5T9mc2YEaB2vW09x02ctJiUGgB18tJViV7Hj0VENxuCLXPLjeB9VwnBiDpehe2IOepP5Mdy8f6YK4A/s400/9.JPG" border="0" /></a> A few happy-sad moments. Vera, with her new adopted pet. Yes, she took Niki.<br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiC2m_l_qO7RylItEYKnT5lGGeqLc5pY3s2jSo5lcwGPPzxW9PkTTiHP4cHlZWTKIMW4b3QRbsvq8i1Qfrq-IBE9pFJ1qqm5ShjCoV6jlJ12iLpSn6sQl8ft20wnn0pYp3zDSaDNg/s1600-h/10.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5271887850984403458" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiC2m_l_qO7RylItEYKnT5lGGeqLc5pY3s2jSo5lcwGPPzxW9PkTTiHP4cHlZWTKIMW4b3QRbsvq8i1Qfrq-IBE9pFJ1qqm5ShjCoV6jlJ12iLpSn6sQl8ft20wnn0pYp3zDSaDNg/s400/10.JPG" border="0" /></a> The night before Noah said goodbye to Max, who will live in a huge fenced yard with a great family of four kids and two dogs.<br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWtOGTuTq6PW6JO6CqNqKWUDubyqipicBnNhjvraKQuqEFveAGjIXC0Kl_wu0oKaP-J-38xpQWZ2bw1OE83LrpryLkRLYkCp9Nh9MMvVD1phCgKTsJDxQR0NMPfDEF86qEcD35eA/s1600-h/11.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5271887476735167058" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWtOGTuTq6PW6JO6CqNqKWUDubyqipicBnNhjvraKQuqEFveAGjIXC0Kl_wu0oKaP-J-38xpQWZ2bw1OE83LrpryLkRLYkCp9Nh9MMvVD1phCgKTsJDxQR0NMPfDEF86qEcD35eA/s400/11.JPG" border="0" /></a>There goes the DC fridge.<br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOQxoBpLqZVbb9b3AOlInFMKgxpyhN_RBICBRoyHyriGwZ1oPsZeMP1QFhwYeTvJ1Mo22T3KPVwfFe4WNw-TbITy4ra1i9Az7bN4_XmWoNpZ26tH0YOf613RcBqvUW8vuUGFpd6A/s1600-h/12.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5271887472243652562" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOQxoBpLqZVbb9b3AOlInFMKgxpyhN_RBICBRoyHyriGwZ1oPsZeMP1QFhwYeTvJ1Mo22T3KPVwfFe4WNw-TbITy4ra1i9Az7bN4_XmWoNpZ26tH0YOf613RcBqvUW8vuUGFpd6A/s400/12.JPG" border="0" /></a> The kids played and talked and sat with each other, visibly conscious that this was it.<br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZsNFxe9BPfQGRfXmuUVhfATsXZd1xAH6XEvN3rRtUJoF1hGY-IkT26vbyUzQCdoCxsT_G77i98t-V30kw7Ky-nNduiF2UkE1QHSU3rUFIhOeFO4AfmWs2UyiAaKgZnPfBZlHCtQ/s1600-h/13.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5271887468732316466" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZsNFxe9BPfQGRfXmuUVhfATsXZd1xAH6XEvN3rRtUJoF1hGY-IkT26vbyUzQCdoCxsT_G77i98t-V30kw7Ky-nNduiF2UkE1QHSU3rUFIhOeFO4AfmWs2UyiAaKgZnPfBZlHCtQ/s400/13.JPG" border="0" /></a><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">Renita</span> with <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">Renita</span>. Vera in background.<br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyMXfjBQEUleyBEvPmQDcpTfL4cmirHIOZDQr5tG3WzZGEpA3Aw6Yg0JELHQ0mj8JMmtj3swEnDeD5369rGyQTRKd1euIwd5VZA3shiQhiuTVBwqrs8Lo9umNp2jzE8O_-a04_qg/s1600-h/14.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5271887009252868002" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyMXfjBQEUleyBEvPmQDcpTfL4cmirHIOZDQr5tG3WzZGEpA3Aw6Yg0JELHQ0mj8JMmtj3swEnDeD5369rGyQTRKd1euIwd5VZA3shiQhiuTVBwqrs8Lo9umNp2jzE8O_-a04_qg/s400/14.JPG" border="0" /></a> And so, the night came. We formed a circle, sang, prayed...<br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhz5-Rm-g2nEAgUBbiI_DltE5c33FGbxvH6ftAiWc_n1JpdgBRy0PI7HdJnHEaTytmGCfT8JPeNmfZUTmOuka5Mgn7rkHCMUUXFaszgrfBMpyuRpYRSjoe-U6Msbb0_7t_Aa9r1LQ/s1600-h/15.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5271887004544405906" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 397px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhz5-Rm-g2nEAgUBbiI_DltE5c33FGbxvH6ftAiWc_n1JpdgBRy0PI7HdJnHEaTytmGCfT8JPeNmfZUTmOuka5Mgn7rkHCMUUXFaszgrfBMpyuRpYRSjoe-U6Msbb0_7t_Aa9r1LQ/s400/15.JPG" border="0" /></a>...and said our last goodbyes. Patience says a tearful goodbye to <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">Renita</span>. Note little <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">Renita's</span> fingers around big <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">Renita's</span> leg.<br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifR5M3LuwWEtG99U2QyFEWB_QyzHDZ6C1vAaciU8rCSzGJdyVeUaIfaIlvz0hp0m4aXrjTuLT_gufcyNNuh461LnE-te80uvF_70_VCamtk9PrVJmRvEZ8c2G6P7c_0ieen6Srjw/s1600-h/16.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5271886994755998418" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 331px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifR5M3LuwWEtG99U2QyFEWB_QyzHDZ6C1vAaciU8rCSzGJdyVeUaIfaIlvz0hp0m4aXrjTuLT_gufcyNNuh461LnE-te80uvF_70_VCamtk9PrVJmRvEZ8c2G6P7c_0ieen6Srjw/s400/16.JPG" border="0" /></a>There are others who could join us, but this for sure is the new Reed family. We are so sad to leave <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">Renita</span>, Eastman, and <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">Trokon</span>.<br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5271890541919773010" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCORJwLi2h_-TYWTQnTtCQV2XSFFl_CmGYEdbq2OLoLlKe_eneZ9AS_pcW8q5nfBQXKcU9RfyFQh-kcuhmSz_ypG9Iufm_w6cdJU_-vANKDBGZPEphFXhfmJXdzOrTHx0lyVxfHw/s400/IMG_8587.JPG" border="0" />As I write Saturday morning, the coast of England reminds me the parting is real.<br /><div align="left"></div><div align="left"></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div>The Reeds in the Windhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12861913317985600596noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12830202.post-67937212847450408732008-11-19T12:16:00.011+00:002009-01-06T12:08:47.809+00:00Leaving Liberia, Part Five<div align="left"><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#330033;"><strong>We'll Miss You, We'll Miss You Not... </strong></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:180%;color:#330033;"><em>We'll Miss You</em></span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#330033;">Today is Wednesday-- our last in Liberia. The goodbyes are frequent, and with a few, we are just not going there. Apparently, we will be getting an escort to the airport by many of our friends, and I'm sure that will be quite a scene. I know I'm going to lose it. Hannah and Noah too. Renita says she won't-- "she just doesn't cry at things like this." We'll see. </span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#330033;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#330033;">Leaving our people will be the hardest part of course. But there are some things-- Liberia things-- that we also will miss. And some, of course, that we won't. Let's examine a small list:</span><br /><br /><br /><br /></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:130%;color:#330033;">We Will <em>Not </em>Miss</span> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_wFdkgsuAP9N5fpzB8wBXaHyojc1rwtesEnWS-4sm9VtBkKPkfEw15zu4BwbAJFykw7Rf2WRlmic9hpaNzmp-hPdcz1-TFnYbtuW0PDEhYhvxDG2CamBRgxbjmLanEdnWN3Rdgg/s1600-h/Water+duty1.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5270346062798630834" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_wFdkgsuAP9N5fpzB8wBXaHyojc1rwtesEnWS-4sm9VtBkKPkfEw15zu4BwbAJFykw7Rf2WRlmic9hpaNzmp-hPdcz1-TFnYbtuW0PDEhYhvxDG2CamBRgxbjmLanEdnWN3Rdgg/s400/Water+duty1.JPG" border="0" /></a> Daily Water Duty. About thirty gallons a day, pumped and lugged from next door.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhS1ydl_CXL_o4I6xk0aTt9lGUY9rpCs1Gic7C6aKDm3b6UPeUDnao-L5TTuPW6iwfdWvojkHlQPjr4MVQY2uUTUjCFfGlK55dSMLF0tBIwaQ8TR_ZmBo5LnK21AwcUsj6t347sqw/s1600-h/2.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5270346060632803218" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhS1ydl_CXL_o4I6xk0aTt9lGUY9rpCs1Gic7C6aKDm3b6UPeUDnao-L5TTuPW6iwfdWvojkHlQPjr4MVQY2uUTUjCFfGlK55dSMLF0tBIwaQ8TR_ZmBo5LnK21AwcUsj6t347sqw/s400/2.JPG" border="0" /></a><em>"I can do it" I a professiona' mechanah!"</em> Every guy that worked on our car was self taught, and more often than not we had to bring it back to somebody to fix what was fixed. A common practice is to remove good parts for sale, then when the bad part fails, work to fix that too, using whatever creative method could be rigged.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgESncZUOywcn_TIEc4zDZnAMcaPjEKQb0Fpz8qHcK3NJzpYPE0bby2ikKWhRZIpjshw1tFKsjsXFtcTUEDrXNH28pjAo3MsG0eHZjSkxbFhcOgVvBR0hmQXHG9ndxIVXh6soX1QQ/s1600-h/3.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5270346047759950210" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgESncZUOywcn_TIEc4zDZnAMcaPjEKQb0Fpz8qHcK3NJzpYPE0bby2ikKWhRZIpjshw1tFKsjsXFtcTUEDrXNH28pjAo3MsG0eHZjSkxbFhcOgVvBR0hmQXHG9ndxIVXh6soX1QQ/s400/3.JPG" border="0" /></a>Jiggers. Dug out of many toes and other parts, including each of ours several times during three and a half years. Here Odelle assists Renita.<br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWlX-Idrg7LiHd88WZdYGQV4fLzxGcd9wTW7chhIlQ5_6GTlxDp0Nv0HszJGR8wFplcSGWOFqFld1QtvddwOldSvSiYj53VEGAo_L4p8sQDY6hTFVDj73FW10M3qMjuHaMAIjolA/s1600-h/4.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5270345084445407138" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 324px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWlX-Idrg7LiHd88WZdYGQV4fLzxGcd9wTW7chhIlQ5_6GTlxDp0Nv0HszJGR8wFplcSGWOFqFld1QtvddwOldSvSiYj53VEGAo_L4p8sQDY6hTFVDj73FW10M3qMjuHaMAIjolA/s400/4.JPG" border="0" /></a> Monrovia Traffic. It is not that unusual from other African cities, but without traffic lights and so many "self taught" taxi drivers, it gets stupid. For thirty six years, I loved to drive. Now, I give the keys to Renita when I can.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhr13DeXD1yi6JbPESbpVmnl8j2gABOdRqLR9Ni3xSVU9Q4-7mojCCO5JYCvqOZ3XtmBKkhnkijJnUwqzyJmvJqS81DTm_e4rfjPk0PRLTcZgKXQeyqzldqUkGFhmlfr5V4tiSYKw/s1600-h/5.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5270345086391276274" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 373px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhr13DeXD1yi6JbPESbpVmnl8j2gABOdRqLR9Ni3xSVU9Q4-7mojCCO5JYCvqOZ3XtmBKkhnkijJnUwqzyJmvJqS81DTm_e4rfjPk0PRLTcZgKXQeyqzldqUkGFhmlfr5V4tiSYKw/s400/5.jpg" border="0" /></a>The Humidity. The Sweating. This in Rivercess. Why do the other guys look so cool?<br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjZu-wNeBWaxSJS_3M6mHx0cYaXZMRK0GN9qfMaTQvhEEYp2E6lV6-cTsIB7ldPnxPY677wLytxbps2eV0Wjhq4DH1NPSr-xvPhhIVAl_DcyfrSNGHqoUGtX2EHZbzf2AZAMAv4w/s1600-h/6.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5270345081136873858" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 294px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjZu-wNeBWaxSJS_3M6mHx0cYaXZMRK0GN9qfMaTQvhEEYp2E6lV6-cTsIB7ldPnxPY677wLytxbps2eV0Wjhq4DH1NPSr-xvPhhIVAl_DcyfrSNGHqoUGtX2EHZbzf2AZAMAv4w/s400/6.JPG" border="0" /></a> Being reminded everywhere we go that there was no "sanctuary" during the war. No place was safe. Most buildings were left in ruins. A church near Baye's Town.<br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHx0hJhPNCWlJl97i-lKG3tk39ILehMbxAsM01k6wNpTMVGWOjbUwEiE7merhK3r6s_J0Rs3JZ1gyGxjvzLWJ4X29onRiN8yd8j2Nw12L9y8J0Ncv1CJ4BdIYw8PBBZ6Y_4bS0zg/s1600-h/7.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5270345080200617746" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 252px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHx0hJhPNCWlJl97i-lKG3tk39ILehMbxAsM01k6wNpTMVGWOjbUwEiE7merhK3r6s_J0Rs3JZ1gyGxjvzLWJ4X29onRiN8yd8j2Nw12L9y8J0Ncv1CJ4BdIYw8PBBZ6Y_4bS0zg/s400/7.JPG" border="0" /></a>Being daily reminded that those all around us, even our dearest friends, lived lives of hardship and deep poverty. Vera's home.<br /><div><br /><div><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;color:#330033;">We Will Miss</span><br /><div><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5270343307586041570" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwt8fJqNgUDf9W7LB-IFKfukJRgvZi9ImXToeusWYo2Ejn8C2l3s4f9TO8mMTz6gLraecq8C0r51YrtUyjP5t29WglaJpZoVk8xFzj_5xAiVyZJpaOJJQFx7PQ4_o8SFDKpc_Pxw/s400/1.JPG" border="0" /> The humidity-produced morning mists. This in Gbarnga.<br /><br /><div><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5270343312400932338" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 181px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJvIcbCvb73ZCRWgygMod8oBMKY4DYJrbUQF8b2l1XRtQvwDieWLkpIQrNzgBDMLSPum2IXKL5PhBtYBwkQpxnlv_uOG_a7vJM935-kcsupOAofx6dIWJUAvZGx3N8zdR8yM5nMw/s400/2.jpg" border="0" /> Hanging out with jes' folks in the villages. Johnson Town.<br /><br /><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5270343313034023810" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAPeb6Yv3lqEue9SRotK1KzbjBulZrA0RUlVwj5xpbU95xDdVGgFSV8cPB2Z6xSmGHWdJgYl-bABjatreq2QF7GXmRFoGhsvHwSxBlRPP2bsye5OHUSdrFtz3vh7Kqrhr1-4Uibw/s400/3.JPG" border="0" /> "German Plums." (Small Liberian Mangoes. So good, it must be descended from the Forbidden Fruit.)<br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5270343311069716562" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 317px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqlODJAmGoHZtCs27cPEZ3xifzIdnFwmgT_qqj6IKVIe8ZB0XL1_d487vgNwmw0MYKgP5l_xwUkCOOrnMr1HgSOy2Ay8Lh2keA_2N1V3S1QGYRFZKB8JEoigdD19SK0MTH3xxuqg/s400/4.JPG" border="0" /> The Liberian Coast. Treacherous, non-negotiating, and inspiring.<br /><div><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5270342561145615458" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 258px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhhOQL-JvUX_tlyCMVMlvBmK4NUwdJjTOiULDzGMr5y_8CD1XyF0PaBYqqz2522Xtx_ZELHHPykfjdq9tNm7PcFfiJ3ueQH_9YXKDvJavB-5b2Vf5LP-XiVdbtE0Zb2xlNWcDpIA/s400/7.JPG" border="0" /> Just hanging out in the yard in the late afternoon. This can be done anywhere, of course, but the contrast between the humidity of the day and the relative cool of the breezy late afternoon cannot be experienced in very many places.<br /><br /><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5270342552655040274" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 312px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjW553wRGT4-2E7FZ8cbKQ8DH2RzPd3fF7iqHRfoM8veXFcqrdfp3kCMAI3JZgFIye90lTuhINFqLNTqxUuliBzYHc2uL3hMBIszsNU_EhADV_61sux2HXivn5UMUsHjpdwGcsdDA/s400/5.JPG" border="0" /> Cooking huts. I love 'em. In every village. No two are alike, and every one is a place of communion, comfort, food and family.<br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5270665979429844530" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 354px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDfmTfZagKRTd6vsLSMcmPwhu6iiXja5jbWNJiXuXatVY-tXYJV8hwvcUU-iGT69oJSQpaQsmM6is5YAgo2MPoFqYTkD79FNPlwHGmQ9dwoHVrestAnqb6oyugMx3MfRKhdKqZDg/s400/6.JPG" border="0" />"Dancin' with the ones He brung us to... "</div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div><br /></div>The Reeds in the Windhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12861913317985600596noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12830202.post-37271239674937012012008-11-17T12:21:00.007+00:002008-11-20T09:29:59.524+00:00Leaving Liberia, Part Four<div align="left"><span style="color:#003333;"><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:180%;">When Goodbye Becomes Hello</span><br /></span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#003333;">In this, our last week in a country that defies simple characterization, we are keenly aware of every “last” thing we do, every “last” activity, and now we are saying goodbye to each day of the week. Yesterday was our last Sunday here. We said goodbye to eight churches—one was Providence Baptist Church in Monrovia, led by our friend of eleven years Pastor Sam Reeves. PBC honored Renita and thanked her for her work with LEAD. The other church goodbye was back in our own Foster Town, where seven churches and our Foster Town Association for Community Transformation(FACT) invited us to a beautiful and moving farewell ceremony. In our time here, none of us have been more stirred or impressed. For three years we’ve worked to find ways to bring neighborhood churches together with FACT. There has been progress, but working with pastors is kinda like herding cats. Yesterday on that cement dais in that reed and wood structure, there were seven pastors together with their leaders and the FACT board. Community members from seven congregations and more joined them. And while we were deeply honored and humbled that they came ostensibly to say goodbye to us, I was far more inspired by the fact that they had come together, period.<br /><br />After a service that made us laugh and cry, Renita and I were asked to say a few words. After she spoke, the only thing I could think of to say was that the farewell service was not really an ending—it was a wonderful beginning. I observed that while our Liberian friends were there to thank the Reeds for “being so instrumental in transforming the community,” that this kind of gathering was the real source of future change in Foster Town. I think they saw it. After the meeting, another pastor joined them and the eight pastors connected with the FACT board to talk about how to take advantage of this non-accidental moment. They made plans.<br /><br />A couple of North American Christians living in the neighborhood for three plus years, doing what they can to lend a hand is a good thing, and it may even make a small difference. But all Renita and I could do pales in comparison to what these seven congregations and FACT will do if they pull together. Yesterday, seven key community leaders—its pastors—and over a hundred other leaders and faithful church-goers got an eyeball vision of their future. Their future is <em>them,</em> talking and working together. Say hello!</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#003333;">Today, Monday, we get to say goodbye again. Already Vera is crying. <img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5270668231696154482" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 272px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPrfmOrrrQsho6vmgNNmuxkVetZIIwIF0PLtmQRgCb_RqpLReKqqRxPPiYYRuEyWkKAWBbtzzOfnCl60QjjHO-UrsCvb3maOvhEzjxxs41EfuCFgbTszRcpKV7aSGF0GJsL6l0Ww/s400/scan0003.jpg" border="0" /></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#003333;"></span>Our Sunday group of pastors and community leaders. The most encouraging moment for Foster Town in a long time. Hello to hope...</div><div align="center"> </div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5269601315553380482" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 296px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXifSBBLm2N1p-vRauaZvVvNdrlfkgUUK8KmYgJ_2gcxlGUDAGpbWIPLhoWyMUCKQ2nEZqQjklZp3DasdXhbdkT7voexkV7UDaXPIXX0E_6ReZ9C2A1Y8l1K-FHUBcyNnRmj78XA/s400/IMG_8377.JPG" border="0" /> <p align="center">...and farwell to us. Renita, deciding which books stay and which go.<br /></p><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcwsBUe6ddNW_E7TgkJ7rQCs3Scwzcbb_HBFZwoKKRdZexuKn-H6hJY4R-4xsMo9EY83-FzkLYP0MZhfX16R7mpRzm22tnnmcdpsRllm051uCAWFyxEDD-cNmDo-moKmz4JcRVpA/s1600-h/IMG_8365.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5269601307097882674" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 290px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcwsBUe6ddNW_E7TgkJ7rQCs3Scwzcbb_HBFZwoKKRdZexuKn-H6hJY4R-4xsMo9EY83-FzkLYP0MZhfX16R7mpRzm22tnnmcdpsRllm051uCAWFyxEDD-cNmDo-moKmz4JcRVpA/s400/IMG_8365.JPG" border="0" /></a> All of us, with Trokon and Eastman, working through Noah's Legos.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBoVXzrbqJ8VjLbx3uW46UyGYShXgOryN5OVu2F3aJlPvZCgnLJZiGj_5H2RhEW5XK3hlHcyBmVEJxSjaFtk0E5TYk-6jFKp8Fbfom9g9508aZucR4nZudfth7lJP4snka_uS7Gw/s1600-h/IMG_8361.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5269600899632043026" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 307px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBoVXzrbqJ8VjLbx3uW46UyGYShXgOryN5OVu2F3aJlPvZCgnLJZiGj_5H2RhEW5XK3hlHcyBmVEJxSjaFtk0E5TYk-6jFKp8Fbfom9g9508aZucR4nZudfth7lJP4snka_uS7Gw/s400/IMG_8361.JPG" border="0" /></a>Farewell to my friend Sarah. She showed once a month for some rice, bulgar, and oil. I got to know her and looked forward to hearing about her life, hard as it is.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiv2PEvf2BWCeHs8639zxZOxHnaFEyjfOrLyiijsgfg-kSElunE8homD9ILkfHHfcfjbFosj5OqHL5klfxSECf7IMNab-x92mukWIa_qmEmhh_cY68z2vD5IhXNXh4pWXH4SsK-2Q/s1600-h/IMG_8354.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5269600900688018306" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 359px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiv2PEvf2BWCeHs8639zxZOxHnaFEyjfOrLyiijsgfg-kSElunE8homD9ILkfHHfcfjbFosj5OqHL5klfxSECf7IMNab-x92mukWIa_qmEmhh_cY68z2vD5IhXNXh4pWXH4SsK-2Q/s400/IMG_8354.JPG" border="0" /></a>Farewell to porch time-- here with Patience, her daughter Renita and Noah-- with Max keeping watch.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1oNE1hCqVZCZazCP0GSyDBB2pOLlxqPdHwwyDBBvQL44ognaR2ndFoeJpNrtiUO2HPh7zEobtVv51Iv8c1AH-qWRBsUrjiFnrD6v8BN1G9cc8WcPGpU9qdU0sgJeji_pLxgVPFw/s1600-h/IMG_8350.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5269600899448963554" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 358px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1oNE1hCqVZCZazCP0GSyDBB2pOLlxqPdHwwyDBBvQL44ognaR2ndFoeJpNrtiUO2HPh7zEobtVv51Iv8c1AH-qWRBsUrjiFnrD6v8BN1G9cc8WcPGpU9qdU0sgJeji_pLxgVPFw/s400/IMG_8350.JPG" border="0" /></a>Yers Trooly with Odelle's son Success, who they are now calling Bob.<br /><br /><div align="left"><span style="color:#336666;"><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"><em>Weather: Incredibly humid and hot, with dew points in the 80s and temps in the 90s. Bedroom temp at 10:00pm-- 84F. Try sleeping in that! Hazy days, with no measurable rain in a week. Light breezes that pick up around sunset, making for nice evenings for an hour or two.</em></span> </span></div></div>The Reeds in the Windhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12861913317985600596noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12830202.post-52308477867525142252008-11-10T11:26:00.008+00:002008-11-17T12:18:03.980+00:00Leaving Liberia: Part Three<div align="center"><br /></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:times new roman;"><em><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:180%;color:#660000;">The Kids</span></em></span><br /><span style="font-family:times new roman;"><span style="color:#ffffff;">.</span><br /></span><span style="font-family:times new roman;"></span><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#660000;">Its beginning to hurt a bit. As we count down the days to our departure, we are wondering about the inevitable goodbyes just down the road. We are missing our friends already. We are missing the children most of all. There are so many kids we have laughed and argued with, sat with, conked, hugged, teased, taught and bandaged. Some saw us first as curiosities, then as potential sources of goodies, but now there is something more, something much deeper. Renita and I see a handful of them almost as if they are ours. We know several of them see us more often than either of their parents, and depend on us for guidance and a sense of stability. We did not seek these bonds intentionally, and we hope that bonding will be worth more than the pain we will all feel upon parting.<br /><br />Here are just a few of them-- "The Kids in Liberia." Some are forever a part of us, some we met in passing. We have hundreds of images of Liberia's children—we could have selected many more. Look closely. Each face is a brushstroke in the Liberian Portrait. Each is different, and each reveals something of the Face of God.</span><br /></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266995589414277650" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 246px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAzhzmvUJic0-Kk1mnFMsr0qXHigE4IKZozpp5CulkCQx1DT4WTlI-Bvbz5fIRH0GXwP3rN4XHilJUspMOrPEudoUUeBEXZ_-1PfYLK27X7rf4Mvl5AH4ZvXyhDNlcuzq8E5HL-w/s400/Gbaye's+Town1.JPG" border="0" /> <p align="center"> The Children of Gbaye's Town...<br /></p><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQLRCQfP8oe1u6D4-w6nu34Q708L7Klg9SQTEsHA0Jc1hMTuLfTkDOOXqoxL04_Kf4koOnDmDmGkkNxDF0YpfSceY6x0DRaNZC_GPirAztibrlGgpsPB2nskEm7v6wYmjtHukw5w/s1600-h/Ambush+Corner2.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266995585519869970" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 306px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQLRCQfP8oe1u6D4-w6nu34Q708L7Klg9SQTEsHA0Jc1hMTuLfTkDOOXqoxL04_Kf4koOnDmDmGkkNxDF0YpfSceY6x0DRaNZC_GPirAztibrlGgpsPB2nskEm7v6wYmjtHukw5w/s400/Ambush+Corner2.JPG" border="0" /></a> Ambush Corner<br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5269598660963305394" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 295px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgn9WpuRbmTBWMCP1aq96JC8rW2Lwp4FuGvSBMOx6JEKJBTALS4Nc1evvJd6q-LR-3JQ9sQpCt7Fy3uM54dVSrjBLWdvOZwISuOFY5noaaFa4BnnfU8qivgM40xjvO7ao_MG6GekQ/s400/7.JPG" border="0" />Koon's Town<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxVcVviskQV9TnrExA1ER9XePtpBtoavpvPCrOot6BwfM7z4AQBvEjby6QZQ27lVIusilVlNlCkgMqL3tG3Re4uzQ0r91f9hyphenhyphenakJ5LXmkvjcJaiZFL-lF4D1ZyaOYF7_WvJwgVFA/s1600-h/ToTo+Town3.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266995579477075602" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxVcVviskQV9TnrExA1ER9XePtpBtoavpvPCrOot6BwfM7z4AQBvEjby6QZQ27lVIusilVlNlCkgMqL3tG3Re4uzQ0r91f9hyphenhyphenakJ5LXmkvjcJaiZFL-lF4D1ZyaOYF7_WvJwgVFA/s400/ToTo+Town3.JPG" border="0" /></a>Toto Town<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEid3dmWy-wkYMuKmJ3LchhzJcftSvHBSFFADL8Jv10YGgMvN7e-ZiD_iMDnk6URVEnZYROFyNKNk8HwP66ZxmK1bk8O9EQTCywM0TWlOBs8i50_xkJTlkE4sbPbfvBlmSrnMnuy1Q/s1600-h/West+Point4.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266994437782742930" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 316px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEid3dmWy-wkYMuKmJ3LchhzJcftSvHBSFFADL8Jv10YGgMvN7e-ZiD_iMDnk6URVEnZYROFyNKNk8HwP66ZxmK1bk8O9EQTCywM0TWlOBs8i50_xkJTlkE4sbPbfvBlmSrnMnuy1Q/s400/West+Point4.JPG" border="0" /></a>West Point, Monrovia<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiba1mCLcd1wozVzBKQXolohv5Z8kMZz9ljCoVcpVuiRks1SxbYO56-IT3RkFnT0rGgYbspkoHRLSxASNvm1XHOsS78IbK-pbudFdNWZXPZq-Z3faOWzV3mmijpOcFhGKzlgdYezw/s1600-h/Foster+Town+Market5.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266994436785021170" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 291px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiba1mCLcd1wozVzBKQXolohv5Z8kMZz9ljCoVcpVuiRks1SxbYO56-IT3RkFnT0rGgYbspkoHRLSxASNvm1XHOsS78IbK-pbudFdNWZXPZq-Z3faOWzV3mmijpOcFhGKzlgdYezw/s400/Foster+Town+Market5.JPG" border="0" /></a> Foster Town Market<br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6bHvLXNM__OHavXaoIAkDu9xkBCrrt8bus-OX8zZtpIMEyYGiPpDtXc9KB6XnJ6cas905-JNaeJhqzuFmyuV45_pvFpBQOI1-T9jXHlRSEiruMBlY8bVpKfRRvVh0jeHbpist1g/s1600-h/Buchanan6.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266994427948825506" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 282px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6bHvLXNM__OHavXaoIAkDu9xkBCrrt8bus-OX8zZtpIMEyYGiPpDtXc9KB6XnJ6cas905-JNaeJhqzuFmyuV45_pvFpBQOI1-T9jXHlRSEiruMBlY8bVpKfRRvVh0jeHbpist1g/s400/Buchanan6.JPG" border="0" /></a>Buchanan<br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEbPtJy_ztEzg6c5RfeW2gLY14jnN9mmR5KtISkh3eHMAvwFqmmo5BcZzhDUgnyDX9PEI-BZ2TWVvLRm6xyQNPRbRJJgiL0XO9jzl-LP5bhm2MsXXLXoPoel-T9yeTE9BIAtEPIg/s1600-h/Congo+Town7.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266993240204204146" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEbPtJy_ztEzg6c5RfeW2gLY14jnN9mmR5KtISkh3eHMAvwFqmmo5BcZzhDUgnyDX9PEI-BZ2TWVvLRm6xyQNPRbRJJgiL0XO9jzl-LP5bhm2MsXXLXoPoel-T9yeTE9BIAtEPIg/s400/Congo+Town7.JPG" border="0" /></a>Congo Town<br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmegPjoDfx9762TOYgHECoUsz4bJBgsClrzyFZeoUe3JNOi_hwt7F4Q1YKbytNpLPxDdbRy3JlVLEtFrosugvg2J1r845DYDODbKfcNqnLckwI02m01hekwupTxLu5RdS5gFHUpw/s1600-h/Disco+Hill8.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266993237850632722" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 308px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmegPjoDfx9762TOYgHECoUsz4bJBgsClrzyFZeoUe3JNOi_hwt7F4Q1YKbytNpLPxDdbRy3JlVLEtFrosugvg2J1r845DYDODbKfcNqnLckwI02m01hekwupTxLu5RdS5gFHUpw/s400/Disco+Hill8.JPG" border="0" /></a> Disco Hill<br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2OiywQtlzhAN7pWRCGEqrU7SEm-LT_Qru3PD8800tG9yY2LzAEtYuYz5-JyxqIUICMGAOMbGseUrX5RVPfbehqNq0bXde01rVZDGrixTEtJHGUzQ5Tq-3Wf129ZCFbIh4QPguVg/s1600-h/St+Theresa%27s+Elementary9.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266993230367571202" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 356px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2OiywQtlzhAN7pWRCGEqrU7SEm-LT_Qru3PD8800tG9yY2LzAEtYuYz5-JyxqIUICMGAOMbGseUrX5RVPfbehqNq0bXde01rVZDGrixTEtJHGUzQ5Tq-3Wf129ZCFbIh4QPguVg/s400/St+Theresa%27s+Elementary9.JPG" border="0" /></a> St. Theresa Elementary School<br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJWNl34QEVFttfALTB0QJSbv9teiavwQiAfn1TTKlu0uRYdi1Q7H42NROv5ChSP-4njgbv7Z-RBQDIhg4vDQrWrrhcWRtEeB9ztPENz0-ZZuYrmYJshFZ-aZdCKS1T3eRPa4ToDw/s1600-h/Christ+Friend+Children+Academy10.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266991028773833778" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 256px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJWNl34QEVFttfALTB0QJSbv9teiavwQiAfn1TTKlu0uRYdi1Q7H42NROv5ChSP-4njgbv7Z-RBQDIhg4vDQrWrrhcWRtEeB9ztPENz0-ZZuYrmYJshFZ-aZdCKS1T3eRPa4ToDw/s400/Christ+Friend+Children+Academy10.JPG" border="0" /></a> Christ's Friend Children Academy<br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbiwf3-1EVr5JCkTflgG6lwW6os5uRQFb6ZTP7dl0nNKNVAXkHDTnmuTv6HDy7Nm5Dfxe6RPZ8xe8c7eL98iE2ZZn6BZ_NQtCP75APiV8gnPGvdvU_luuur9iFcpdrDq8rGmvMKw/s1600-h/The+Reed+House11.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266991019522053314" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbiwf3-1EVr5JCkTflgG6lwW6os5uRQFb6ZTP7dl0nNKNVAXkHDTnmuTv6HDy7Nm5Dfxe6RPZ8xe8c7eL98iE2ZZn6BZ_NQtCP75APiV8gnPGvdvU_luuur9iFcpdrDq8rGmvMKw/s400/The+Reed+House11.JPG" border="0" /></a>The Reed House<br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4xrJEmyNtbkCu9O4c57LaKPVWvBOa8xknr7RUJ95zckhcUMEINO0-EcAC2AbwCA3DWHLD2xOk0fbPUfSi6nQObzvsOiRP9gkPicnpfEyyehx9tmtSD6y1q7e8Fx3vuNeVD__Rbw/s1600-h/Water+Fight12.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266991015510875410" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 296px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4xrJEmyNtbkCu9O4c57LaKPVWvBOa8xknr7RUJ95zckhcUMEINO0-EcAC2AbwCA3DWHLD2xOk0fbPUfSi6nQObzvsOiRP9gkPicnpfEyyehx9tmtSD6y1q7e8Fx3vuNeVD__Rbw/s400/Water+Fight12.JPG" border="0" /></a>Some who have planted themselves in our hearts. Of course Trokon, Eastman. (With Enoch on the right.)<br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhf38uiVXtkVtJLDLrbZHEk_CFy-OWnp7O44WS5kigqMW64REf_D1mAtb9HAIqri4eIgjSVPT4cdK_Sy7oXhZQd8q0yjkZcjXX7HN5FNvNbKUcMJunAwibmEzCMvsWr6EkjPL1J7w/s1600-h/Apple13.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266990167017850690" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 277px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhf38uiVXtkVtJLDLrbZHEk_CFy-OWnp7O44WS5kigqMW64REf_D1mAtb9HAIqri4eIgjSVPT4cdK_Sy7oXhZQd8q0yjkZcjXX7HN5FNvNbKUcMJunAwibmEzCMvsWr6EkjPL1J7w/s400/Apple13.JPG" border="0" /></a>Apple, Cecelia...<br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266990145549059346" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 349px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUl5vbUjY-MKCtWOc-wtXLMJq81ZCp09WlY7hT_-tpuh3O2et4clGso51IfkAi64TXHL91fR_74OP8nObZechA3KIg0dSa_GDhFjuh2oW_-k4133TN3DQkfFuvpG4seNGF7SM-Aw/s400/Faith15.JPG" border="0" />...and Faith.<br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwe77X6aw7uSJZAYgVgtpNfdEgqmcAwxls7Pu_bf3M6Jo_QWAwAp0hAa-DcBcG3vBHTiolSutaiEq7ZOv82FWRQgVsrycVzY_RhtfmRri7hQl-ozFwVLm_90LRmoqcpThAOEpk5Q/s1600-h/Rachel+14.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266990153343640546" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwe77X6aw7uSJZAYgVgtpNfdEgqmcAwxls7Pu_bf3M6Jo_QWAwAp0hAa-DcBcG3vBHTiolSutaiEq7ZOv82FWRQgVsrycVzY_RhtfmRri7hQl-ozFwVLm_90LRmoqcpThAOEpk5Q/s400/Rachel+14.JPG" border="0" /></a>Rachel (aka Chinese Girl)<br /><div><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjf-NfhKf3d5Mwj799oPH4D4CEKWhYK8oUHTnDnfrl77SZtD_FdkqWq4sNXnT0EOqx82fKpUXG3s7h-Y4PvF11mfZ0_gf04YCaLTT5W4c1SrH1X8fUYfZTG_Kpnun2yiKe0ZXfWdA/s1600-h/Obadiah16.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266989389462488082" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 398px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjf-NfhKf3d5Mwj799oPH4D4CEKWhYK8oUHTnDnfrl77SZtD_FdkqWq4sNXnT0EOqx82fKpUXG3s7h-Y4PvF11mfZ0_gf04YCaLTT5W4c1SrH1X8fUYfZTG_Kpnun2yiKe0ZXfWdA/s400/Obadiah16.jpg" border="0" /></a> Obadiah<br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSx-wkZ9ejwfr_z-S0DBt_L3yWQCTJDJjihq91XT9IDVsOmAm_Iz_Qhj4Un1eEF2rieUa-byf8ndAjdxZKEjgbu-J4hoiP3qy_Cw3KXA1AEIbpjfwtfYuP6yS_5-3VZf97ZCjvng/s1600-h/Enoch17.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266989379378053426" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSx-wkZ9ejwfr_z-S0DBt_L3yWQCTJDJjihq91XT9IDVsOmAm_Iz_Qhj4Un1eEF2rieUa-byf8ndAjdxZKEjgbu-J4hoiP3qy_Cw3KXA1AEIbpjfwtfYuP6yS_5-3VZf97ZCjvng/s400/Enoch17.JPG" border="0" /></a> Enoch<br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3Q4rgAWtzDpzKNazPmKP0ufR2_7NUFEHITaf2A2m89BH270TFLeKPHAkvXHmBwOr6rf7aTVdJoEzRYTkb5cHmVkhMzaK8QlaWUJeXAS-NUe9Yx2QbGYA5q_gClCBEDJYS7G41Gw/s1600-h/18.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266989373667984162" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3Q4rgAWtzDpzKNazPmKP0ufR2_7NUFEHITaf2A2m89BH270TFLeKPHAkvXHmBwOr6rf7aTVdJoEzRYTkb5cHmVkhMzaK8QlaWUJeXAS-NUe9Yx2QbGYA5q_gClCBEDJYS7G41Gw/s400/18.JPG" border="0" /></a> Thinkers Village Beach. Taken on Morning One of our time here. Still our favorite image.</div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div><br /></div>The Reeds in the Windhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12861913317985600596noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12830202.post-9182061895300229822008-11-05T09:58:00.007+00:002008-11-07T12:50:57.793+00:00The U.S. Presidential Elections<div align="center"><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:180%;"><em><span style="color:#ff0000;">"Congratulashu'</span><span style="color:#ff0000;">, </span><span style="color:#000099;">Misteh Reese!"</span></em></span></div><div align="center"><em><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:180%;color:#ffffff;">d</span></em></div><div align="left"><em><span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#000099;"></span></em></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#000099;"><span style="color:#ff0000;">I want to take a break from my normally scheduled blog post to tell you a bit of what is happening around us this US Election day + one.</span></span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ffffff;">. </span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#000099;"></span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#000099;">We were among the last to know in our neighborhood. By the time we woke up at 6:00am GMT, not only had the polls closed on the US West Coast, but apparently everyone saw it coming as polls closed across the States. Many of our neigbhors stayed awake all night, clustered together in the few homes and video shops that have TV. Across Africa, and around the world, BBC reported an explosion of excitment over the election of Barack Obama. </span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ffffff;">.</span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#000099;"></span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#000099;"><span style="color:#ff0000;">In Liberia</span><span style="color:#ff0000;">, its the same, and its remarkable. When I made a visit at 9:00am to a local market and this internet cafe', I was greeted with<em> congratulations</em>-- thats right, congratulations-- when I got out of the car. A guy standing with his smiling buddies yelled at me from across the street, "Congratulashu, Misteh Reese!"-- and I knew instantly what he was talking about. In the internet cafe, I was greeted with the sound of Obama's victory speech the owner was replaying on UTube. A guy was walking around with a huge Obama face on his t-shirt. Another shook my hand. It seems like everyone is listening to BBC Africa, and BBC Africa is telling the story of parties and positive demonstrations in many places. </span></span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ffffff;">.</span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#000099;"></span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#000099;">As for me, being 5000 miles away, I was not able to particpate the way I normally do in an election season. I felt a bit left out by that. But it was tremendously moving to see the process unfold from this West African persective, and to see how much this country-- this continent--looks to the US as a source of hope. Africa and Liberia have not given up on us yet. I think that's a good thing, even though there remains a cynical side to me when it comes to trusting in nations.</span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ffffff;">.</span></div><div align="left"></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ff0000;">What I will most remember about today, is that although I lamented the fact that I could not participate in the American Experiment in the way I would like, my Liberian friends made me feel proud to be a US citizen. It was fun to join in as their nation celebrated our national moment. </span></div>The Reeds in the Windhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12861913317985600596noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12830202.post-31993989545011834312008-11-03T09:27:00.007+00:002008-11-10T12:37:45.777+00:00Imagining the Possibilities<span style="color:#330000;"><em><span style="font-size:180%;">A Meeting of Co-Laborers</span></em> </span><br /><br /><span style="color:#330000;">Our third-to-last week in Liberia was spent with Joel and Jeannie Huyser, CRWM missionaries from Nicaragua, as they joined us on the invitation of the CRWRC West Africa Ministry Team. As I mentioned last time, part of leaving Liberia for us is doing what we can to ensure that work started is supported, and that we have heard from our Liberian colleagues as we consider future work. Joel was here to listen to reps from five organizations as he outlined a model for community transformation. He spent Tuesday and Wednesday visiting these organizations, learning about their work, listening, swapping perspectives, and then on Thursday, we held the all-day workshop. </span><br /><span style="color:#330000;"></span><br /><span style="color:#330000;">Our Liberians colleagues were generous in giving us their work day—we know very well that they have been invited to meetings like this with international organizations many times. We take their time, seek their opinion, glean from their expertise, and in doing so offer the hope of support for their heroic efforts. And they know full well that sometimes the support comes, and sometimes it doesn’t.<br /><br />It’s a mixed blessing, these partnerships between relatively wealthy western NGO “haves” and relatively impoverished NGO “have nots” in developing countries. Invariably, the “haves” influence the agenda-- not always for the best-- and test the integrity of the “have nots.” Invariably, most international “haves” maintain a position of gatekeeper, while the national “have nots” submissively seek to please their supporting partners. The challenge for INGOs and national NGOs that understand the dangers of this dynamic is to consciously, intentionally work hard toward just and evenhanded relationships. Just doing peacebuilding activity with a partner is not enough. Actively co-monitoring and co-maintaining a healthy relationship is necessary for the partners. Indeed, actively co-maintaining the health of the relationship is integral to the work of peacebuilding.<br /><br />So, our gracious Liberian colleagues shared their ideas and expertise, and they politely listened to us and offered feedback. In the end, they asked CRWRC/CRWM to return and work with them again. If it happens, returning will be the easy part. The real challenge will be in working as true and co-equal partners.</span><br /><span style="color:#330000;"></span><br /><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5264362742742883826" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 256px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkzXfA_JGlavMKsmBzoMjbZ2Js41gY-D9crJN_SMDzUscNE8FpjfL3XnxGMpLRt-FvFHntK0RMcg-M95gC1gYLM1pryDnHkWAikh73mDHV8EReBggtv268x5CTWrVfCXOukxncfg/s400/1.JPG" border="0" /></p><p align="center">Our guest, Joel Huyser, meets with Ellen Williams, General Sevretary of the Christian Health Association of Liberia (CHAL). Karen Bulhuis from LEAD joins us.</p><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdxLohLdiONaYB6C7ngg4nxtI0VkrU8rn7waiSXbdclmysKyhvKSerHo40DD5ZrTqrSSa-DA96QlwiB2-Pa6wYTcuK66A1whqeiX0OVhzTOU0I8JB2pBfnlC0K9whzdpvVbKlY_w/s1600-h/2.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5264362734332416546" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 344px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdxLohLdiONaYB6C7ngg4nxtI0VkrU8rn7waiSXbdclmysKyhvKSerHo40DD5ZrTqrSSa-DA96QlwiB2-Pa6wYTcuK66A1whqeiX0OVhzTOU0I8JB2pBfnlC0K9whzdpvVbKlY_w/s400/2.JPG" border="0" /></a> Renita and LEAD National Director Allen Gweh are next on Joel's list.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6oq3c1l2vfMPX_ny50otSjEwNU9u303bBHraw3km00_59H91vqkXY3NKHYcHjWoWUER5Xm-Dhx71q4eG3Qq5tEsVo39Y2T_2mQGUgT4l2zC9UiSAMGxPjOwM5umXh_XBm0DXCQA/s1600-h/3.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5264362724557840962" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 290px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6oq3c1l2vfMPX_ny50otSjEwNU9u303bBHraw3km00_59H91vqkXY3NKHYcHjWoWUER5Xm-Dhx71q4eG3Qq5tEsVo39Y2T_2mQGUgT4l2zC9UiSAMGxPjOwM5umXh_XBm0DXCQA/s400/3.JPG" border="0" /></a> The LEAD staff took Joel on a tour of several LEAD businesses.<br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3HFOtElklfw9u4qgD7HOPtrQ7289-2oVKGnrSj3AKcm0CDv2emCyeS4N4kuiRP_yAkakLpUn9wazdU6vE1DzYfRCz1cvK2yTIA4PSrACcFK5d-fGdY6KJ4PiL5IqSrbIRkqVTuQ/s1600-h/4.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5264362307493112466" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 279px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3HFOtElklfw9u4qgD7HOPtrQ7289-2oVKGnrSj3AKcm0CDv2emCyeS4N4kuiRP_yAkakLpUn9wazdU6vE1DzYfRCz1cvK2yTIA4PSrACcFK5d-fGdY6KJ4PiL5IqSrbIRkqVTuQ/s400/4.JPG" border="0" /></a>After visiting the Association of Evangelicals inLiberia (AEL), the exec board of the Foster Town Association for Community Transformation (FACT) gives the Huysers a tour of the FACT market.<br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8x-5FMIrhYpNtmz84d2f8K1ivTLQ1hnZGt1jJmW42-5CYiZ-xyjnualUkdO3gwawoLcmZV0rndIjKqyGKAO77MQDZMpeqTtiEeYgyde6A-XjYB9sqVtGeGHF8BuKEckfMXizJag/s1600-h/5.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5264362308447140498" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 315px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8x-5FMIrhYpNtmz84d2f8K1ivTLQ1hnZGt1jJmW42-5CYiZ-xyjnualUkdO3gwawoLcmZV0rndIjKqyGKAO77MQDZMpeqTtiEeYgyde6A-XjYB9sqVtGeGHF8BuKEckfMXizJag/s400/5.JPG" border="0" /></a>Fact Exec Board and guests. From the left, Standing: Joel Huyser, Alex Maye, Jeannie Huyser, Magdelin Brown, Rev. Odashi Shelton, Cecilia Yekeson, Solomon Monway, Yers Trooly.</div><div>Kneeling: Renita Reed, Rev. Augustine Zar, Karen Bulthuis. If you look closely, yes, that's Enoch in the tree directly above Odashi's head.<br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8u34NGuQhG__20nZKB1qSK_6vHweDSxb5oTDNI-n6mBuuwvxcRTMXT5u-WlNz6H70SU0S3_dZPtpP17HJm15f53ChKxd_yzD53GU3JHQNDoJ07E4VkCUijV1Z_tnmGtmiGfr-rg/s1600-h/5a.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5264362303798743346" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 295px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8u34NGuQhG__20nZKB1qSK_6vHweDSxb5oTDNI-n6mBuuwvxcRTMXT5u-WlNz6H70SU0S3_dZPtpP17HJm15f53ChKxd_yzD53GU3JHQNDoJ07E4VkCUijV1Z_tnmGtmiGfr-rg/s400/5a.JPG" border="0" /></a> The workshop last Thurday begins. Joel Huyser facilitating and enlightening and enjoyable day.<br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbQxpWkNZHF4Trmg-EILbGlo-E-yLsPyt2yreBtILntHDzy2sNzIXOoMK_6MRqCNqM746Hq2hBsz9qnvuPgLg-7BtnbtlQ9-fGjBuMHpkE0OPIw_o2DriZT2iRtL2Ibzj5tW2s7A/s1600-h/6.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5264361944162572386" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbQxpWkNZHF4Trmg-EILbGlo-E-yLsPyt2yreBtILntHDzy2sNzIXOoMK_6MRqCNqM746Hq2hBsz9qnvuPgLg-7BtnbtlQ9-fGjBuMHpkE0OPIw_o2DriZT2iRtL2Ibzj5tW2s7A/s400/6.JPG" border="0" /></a> With a very humble assist from Yers.<br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7FFUyVLDpZYwQCuiHNcjgQYNbMtZcI_agnvVk_UDF1R00Ozr0V1nIZ2sf-RX24K7r6Z-mbQmwaAqsK7Z_-4O01wDSF7x2cfi6TT8ywZtno3E-XM7qHDt5xkjCVUnapCqwZSoeoA/s1600-h/7.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5264361933821372018" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7FFUyVLDpZYwQCuiHNcjgQYNbMtZcI_agnvVk_UDF1R00Ozr0V1nIZ2sf-RX24K7r6Z-mbQmwaAqsK7Z_-4O01wDSF7x2cfi6TT8ywZtno3E-XM7qHDt5xkjCVUnapCqwZSoeoA/s400/7.JPG" border="0" /></a> Joel in action-- engaging the participants.<br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeU1fDxH4M10PV1J9gSFfLMYcCnLLvCw4vbAkadSUNeh363aGNq0Y1oJ8kASZl5aUc6k0Ihd_9EN5I9-W8P5tqeJGHnoL8Vz6R89wsUhH_buSX8_z-KoIhyphenhyphenCJGzDfQJ9go3msOfQ/s1600-h/8.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5264361928126109634" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 340px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeU1fDxH4M10PV1J9gSFfLMYcCnLLvCw4vbAkadSUNeh363aGNq0Y1oJ8kASZl5aUc6k0Ihd_9EN5I9-W8P5tqeJGHnoL8Vz6R89wsUhH_buSX8_z-KoIhyphenhyphenCJGzDfQJ9go3msOfQ/s400/8.JPG" border="0" /></a>Ellen Williams of CHAL makes a point.<br /><div><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_Sg-DfluQpY8PvKKzlDLAuzXZDBERWHl0vtrU6xP4Qmu8bFlGZ-GIM0UaLwxnml1sYLKdKFJ_WtIaUkYc_17UrxqeoWf7986RGi0hDiHV__Xjr4DNl5sqCaaEBX1CTgpPMz-RQQ/s1600-h/10.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5264361211447796082" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 339px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_Sg-DfluQpY8PvKKzlDLAuzXZDBERWHl0vtrU6xP4Qmu8bFlGZ-GIM0UaLwxnml1sYLKdKFJ_WtIaUkYc_17UrxqeoWf7986RGi0hDiHV__Xjr4DNl5sqCaaEBX1CTgpPMz-RQQ/s400/10.JPG" border="0" /></a>Rev. Peter Kollie, Director of Advocacy and Good Government at AEL. A passionate and articulate spokesperson for genuine empowerment.<br /><br /><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWwOx-45xATFrIxLOrNdEhJz1ruKZWJ8oBLmtoyxiRNCvHgxina3s2gbK4J8V1aOlzJgtb1nN0pQz8H_6GugjhrdD6PVZJUO50FbG6gF3UgnZhWx7UrNLjWUjMd_7GnncBHew6Aw/s1600-h/9.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5264361213464494770" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 305px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWwOx-45xATFrIxLOrNdEhJz1ruKZWJ8oBLmtoyxiRNCvHgxina3s2gbK4J8V1aOlzJgtb1nN0pQz8H_6GugjhrdD6PVZJUO50FbG6gF3UgnZhWx7UrNLjWUjMd_7GnncBHew6Aw/s400/9.JPG" border="0" /></a> Alex O. Maye, Chairperson of FACT offers toothy insights.<br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5264361216493868402" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 279px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgawQztW_83RYYqVPq26ZRUcv1ZzppMBWS4Z-VYn1LGVwgnI4z8OXNQmzSWwQIxXRs6nh0AMJXqR3V7YX7RcQVQCWLcQ25hHiK4lDWwr9mUUdv88vrs34v0omBbihY6_YbQsC_2Sw/s400/11.JPG" border="0" /> Allen Gweh of LEAD making himself clear.<br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><em><span style="color:#cc0000;">Coming later this week: </span></em></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;"><em><span style="color:#cc0000;">Leaving Liberia, Part Three: Beginning to Hurt</span></em><br /></span><br /></div><div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div>The Reeds in the Windhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12861913317985600596noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12830202.post-7208395260989417622008-10-27T09:10:00.004+00:002008-10-27T16:49:34.202+00:00Leaving Liberia, Part Two<div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:180%;color:#330033;">The Importance of Leaving Well</span><br /><br /><span style="color:#000066;">Tis the end of October, we leave in three weeks plus, and still Renita and I are fully ensconced in Liberia. We like that. We wish we did not need to leave. The work here is so energizing-- and in a world so big that it is easy to wonder if one can make a difference, Liberia is a place that invites people to do just that.<br /><br />We are not spending any time on thinking about leaving—we will begin that process next week, although some folks are already thanking us for our time here. No goodbyes yet, and I’m dreading those coming moments.<br /><br />Mostly, we want to make sure we leave in the wisest, most healthy way possible. On that personal level of course, that means actually saying farewell to all the people who have touched us and allowed us into their world. But professionally, leaving well also means that we do our part to ensure that the work we helped start has the best chance for continuing. So we just do not have time for thinking about leaving. Here is what we are working on:<br /><br /><strong>Regarding Renita’s work with LEAD</strong><br />Lead is going strong as Renita continues to work with National Director Allen Gweh. We are thrilled that Karen Bulthuis, a volunteer from Partners Worldwide, has arrived to provide business and technical training as well as monitor LEAD's actual impact. This will provide continuity between Renita's work and the hoped for coming permanent staff in 2009.<br /><br /><strong>Regarding my work with the Mother Patern BSW Program</strong><br />The program is in its second year, running without a hitch and growing. There are now over 50 students in the program. In January, the professors from Calvin College with teach two courses in an "Interim" session. I hope to be able to fly back from the US to join them. Later in the year, Dr. Judi Meerman of Kuyper College will join the staff to help them prepare for their internship program, and perhaps lend a hand in the classroom.<br /><br /><strong>Regarding Our “Together Work” with the Foster Town community</strong><br />The community development organization in our area, FACT, is alive and working on more ways to improve this neighborhood. Currently, they are active in trying to establish a much needed adult education program as well as offering more workshops for their neighbors. They will be attending the upcoming multi agency conference below, and they are hoping to broaden their network.<br /><br /><strong>Regarding the future of CRWRC/CRWM/PartnersWorldwide in Liberia</strong><br />The Christian Reformed Church in North America is interested in discussing with potential partners the feasibility of initiating holistic collaborative efforts to empower Liberians. Working with Liberians in the field, CRCNA hopes to be able to offer support to Liberians across a broad spectrum of theme areas-- community, health, spiritual, economic, justice, governance, and in mental health. On Thursday, October 30, CRWRC-CRWM will be conducting a mini conference with selected potential partners to discuss the feasibility of various models of collaborative work in Liberia. Joel and Jeannie Huyser, long-time veterans of the Christian Reformed World Missions, will be joining us for five days, starting today. They are bringing a model of collaborative ministry and development work from Nicaragua. We've invited two large, very well known Liberian development NGO's-- the Christian Health Association of Liberia (CHAL), and the Association of Evangelicals in Liberia (AEL), as well as LEAD, Providence Baptist Church, and our own little Foster Town Association for Community Transformation (FACT).<br /><br />Thus our current doings. We’ve got a few pictures of life around here taken within the last day or two, buthonestly, in all the hub-bub, we keep forgetting the camera.</span> </span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:verdana;"> </div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5261875519280885890" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9s0D1iyN3CTEkT9hrDkhprcXMZTmBZKoqIy48EW8jWAgLIJhEne_lv8XrFPIEn2w2iYFIvxkOEeW3ReSj8IYxWHzE4W6JOb4vccQIXiAdhImVqIqL8f1fn81cbuTl1SguW3U7eg/s400/IMG_8270.JPG" border="0" /> <p align="center"></span><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">Joel and Jeannie Huyser, just off the plane from Nicaragua via some time in Nigeria. This picture taken about two hours ago (2:00pm GMT Monday.)</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;"><br /></p></span><span style="font-family:verdana;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5261760828297234658" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 307px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8hguoYEz67ksmHhHWcdAVoWs32jBBoadqFXX31opYZTrQDAQlERPAE0iMgwqDaV5moiyWO8EFnTG7m81rs45PZjQrVeEDUCRmq4ugVM5o5MFaz6J3oGmDLt-LxbaRfZjxvcLo1g/s400/1.JPG" border="0" /> <p align="center"><span style="font-size:85%;">Ok, this picture was<em> not</em> taken in the last couple days, but we wanted to get one of Renita and Karen Bulthuis, LEAD's new impact monitoring consultant. If we tried to get you a current shot of these two, it would be a blur.</span></p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5261760834592382962" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcVaHtGyVbYVYM1ODCm3DqdeWo8CVwN_gU4uHmIcDfo9uOl-DEcL7aHRFGcKpYtd46p897tRQvnA1tFKy1eKPv9P_CFGwjJTa2nR4fwgF9m8acUwOTxio0hVEQcBgqRZtNMR-nGQ/s400/2.JPG" border="0" /> <p align="center"> </span><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:85%;">As I said, some groups are already toasting our mutual friendship. Here is our local church saying "We love you" Sunday.</span><br /></span><br /></p><div align="center"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5261760833361300610" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 297px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeMjsuZHHqvKLfbKd9M0xhMdVXMRvPhBvQ_1nfRMsqafLJJtBK_TSxZq89U0rJzBuiqHvlJTbnBMFfapbVAGDcix3s1drFT52O363lp-3XDaecP3TTyn9MEQilVUAQx0ZqrID0GA/s400/3.JPG" border="0" /><span style="font-size:85%;">Both Renita and I got clothes out of the deal-- dress for her, shirt for me. A Liberian tradition.<br /></span></span><span style="font-family:verdana;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5261760124357786194" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 235px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVMS786lfuGEywG6h4_JBETUQqKsLDaVT_o4AmB0RCDNP-R_YMZHcY1dubrRfjqT9dxhOAiMVkf_lol6QGzEOaap27N6zLZmjXcCC-4C0ndgvq8xPdNL7I2YPWwrehZnvG-bWGIA/s400/4.JPG" border="0" /><span style="font-size:85%;">Here's Yers Trooly delivering his last workshop in Liberia for at least a while. Here last week with ladies from various parishes on helping skills.</span><br /><br /></span><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUiiIv-dFpAm54RcKSFCOGGWUvRtIvEMIOk943pumZYy87iM9uGV95fSxS7XFnPCRZcJIy3Fmgvx5rUJ275F6MWt4Aq6CFdo8OiRrTjoT5DpkIFmYYMIEzYPkgb4hftmT8l-0tgQ/s1600-h/5.JPG"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5261760127191462370" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 389px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUiiIv-dFpAm54RcKSFCOGGWUvRtIvEMIOk943pumZYy87iM9uGV95fSxS7XFnPCRZcJIy3Fmgvx5rUJ275F6MWt4Aq6CFdo8OiRrTjoT5DpkIFmYYMIEzYPkgb4hftmT8l-0tgQ/s400/5.JPG" border="0" /></span></a><span style="font-family:verdana;"> <span style="font-size:85%;">Sigh. how are we going to part with little Renita?</span><br /></span><span style="font-family:verdana;"><br /><div><br /></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5261760130338238722" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 299px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXp7eiHB4Kzf2eGTdai2SIHBAmqgGuG_DHXUR01Q6zeLaJTly8BmY3XBHVpm-pMr32RRK2gdeI-h5pEArtwRhop3XQbpCEjEQ0ZxlXLIzIvtWqLLw3B0_qidcu0muvih0wYAe-0w/s400/6.JPG" border="0" /><span style="font-size:85%;">...and what are we gonna do with these three? Stay tuned...</span><br /></span></div><span style="font-family:verdana;"><br /><div align="left"><br /><span style="color:#336666;"><em><span style="font-size:85%;">Weather: Hot, mostly clear and bright in the day, with some late morning cloudiness as the sun heats up the Atlantic. The clouds clear and we are getting nice sunsets. Rains usually come late, around 1-2 in the morning for an hour or so. Day time temps in the lower 90s, evening lows in the upper 70s.</span></em><br /></span></span></div><br /></div>The Reeds in the Windhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12861913317985600596noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12830202.post-25724535985233821662008-10-20T14:06:00.005+00:002008-10-20T14:43:41.794+00:00Eastman Kodak<em><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#336666;">Weather: We are enjoying an abrupt transition from a very wet five weeks. Some scattered thunderstorms, but mostly sunny and hot. About an inch of rain has fallen in the last week. Day time temps in the upper 80s, night time in the mid 70s.</span></em><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#003300;">Even though we are <em>theoretically </em>preparing to leave in a month, we are still fully engaged in Liberia work. Renita and I are <em>in reality</em> preparing for a visit next week from Joel Huyser, representing the Christian Reformed Church in conversations with potential partners about future work in Liberia. More on that later. I just came back from my last (I think) workshop for Mother Patern. It was nice facilitating a great learning process with this group of Catholic women. But there is not enough time to tell you about it right now because Renita needs the car to go to a LEAD Board meeting. So, I thought I'd provide you with a photo exposition from 13 year old Eastman Morris. I gave him our camera and told him to go take pictures-- that was it. Here are some revealing images-- I call it "Eastman's World." Enjoy. More news next time.</span><br /><br /><br /><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifsV0Rjh6I88M0eoYoyEDBUBeUILNxJjquQpNGbsU1fUki97SCbDUkWqC43ezQNqPCXo5rhENMPJyK-UZLFbf4YEWHkwCCnJ-qXduOQgvaDdGwmIpx1SLlEk_7zuqmvAugfk1c7A/s1600-h/1a.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5259240121204303378" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifsV0Rjh6I88M0eoYoyEDBUBeUILNxJjquQpNGbsU1fUki97SCbDUkWqC43ezQNqPCXo5rhENMPJyK-UZLFbf4YEWHkwCCnJ-qXduOQgvaDdGwmIpx1SLlEk_7zuqmvAugfk1c7A/s400/1a.JPG" border="0" /></a> Our next door neighbor girl Kopo-- a possible crush?<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEii5qsWINHlrES3o6r_6nV45vbwn0fNzAdaGgUI7FRGQ6vfHpbKHxktgOT5z9qqFHZ1tyTwA9SRUZxoceNnLq3vM32jFZtzGIZ4xtSjc0l8FOHHQNtJKyuvnaFlSM7_mK8Ntd_2iQ/s1600-h/1b.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5259240130919424194" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEii5qsWINHlrES3o6r_6nV45vbwn0fNzAdaGgUI7FRGQ6vfHpbKHxktgOT5z9qqFHZ1tyTwA9SRUZxoceNnLq3vM32jFZtzGIZ4xtSjc0l8FOHHQNtJKyuvnaFlSM7_mK8Ntd_2iQ/s400/1b.JPG" border="0" /></a> Boys and trucks.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdUZqHcBP-Ir8eUs8HJXDleB8Zq7kvg_Fv7KTzTzAYZswbRavmegvCTI_k9QoDmt959Kv-3ZWgRfLPtizgn6vFOHNfuhaLtr0pSWdimwEPflHZBLFRP4xGiGVX_Gyhu8rOICCvNw/s1600-h/1c.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5259240141323762242" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdUZqHcBP-Ir8eUs8HJXDleB8Zq7kvg_Fv7KTzTzAYZswbRavmegvCTI_k9QoDmt959Kv-3ZWgRfLPtizgn6vFOHNfuhaLtr0pSWdimwEPflHZBLFRP4xGiGVX_Gyhu8rOICCvNw/s400/1c.JPG" border="0" /></a>A couple of friends.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUo_jNAjEZnkLG-enoxGD_fI0_xPngFzAkmRq8SjNfoK71_Mq9_HjhSVAqOarHc2Gin5Ri9Uyo1ysNMa_bqjNTMGAxZE4KBtcBjCGMHtJA-B_8lbMWfaCzCXc37w96Y03tDaKSqQ/s1600-h/2.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5259239495348164546" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUo_jNAjEZnkLG-enoxGD_fI0_xPngFzAkmRq8SjNfoK71_Mq9_HjhSVAqOarHc2Gin5Ri9Uyo1ysNMa_bqjNTMGAxZE4KBtcBjCGMHtJA-B_8lbMWfaCzCXc37w96Y03tDaKSqQ/s400/2.JPG" border="0" /></a> I guess Eastman was hungry. Liberian "oranges." This is as orange as they get. They are peeled for the customer, who sucks out the juice and tosses the pulp.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-zogyi0Otxjflc5Lvg6G7wiQDcIhkJO4yWaqJwaQoj_WhHMEIIYGSgqPPxERyEVWlvgWGyDkJD-6weV30cqBWzSQk-At8TMDieRowqFX9Z7AbP0A0zB72LPuTOIadzBpoweewmQ/s1600-h/3.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5259239498588946642" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-zogyi0Otxjflc5Lvg6G7wiQDcIhkJO4yWaqJwaQoj_WhHMEIIYGSgqPPxERyEVWlvgWGyDkJD-6weV30cqBWzSQk-At8TMDieRowqFX9Z7AbP0A0zB72LPuTOIadzBpoweewmQ/s400/3.JPG" border="0" /></a> A lovely shot of a mother's hands. This is Odelle, with her son, Success.<br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2kzupKwDqKr_HPi17PHl8GmJhaX88uDSICxxydDIvmTMY3VFMtKwQsO7VHV3kjA8SBMCaDpXgW5_vJyAj3U5tMP5VV46jWePY2It9ITWnzI2SuXIa3s50GBQ92CYHDo_6EdR0Lg/s1600-h/4.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5259238203229770018" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2kzupKwDqKr_HPi17PHl8GmJhaX88uDSICxxydDIvmTMY3VFMtKwQsO7VHV3kjA8SBMCaDpXgW5_vJyAj3U5tMP5VV46jWePY2It9ITWnzI2SuXIa3s50GBQ92CYHDo_6EdR0Lg/s400/4.JPG" border="0" /></a> A wonderful and somewhat sobering picture of Eastman's sister Dbow inside their home.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEishUBv1eGJ9AJW8b8WVBu6BNc0JWbzBYR-rBNACyxFxqqTLuk7R026LXAX562fhEHkB-HxscwknXZ6KZruivX71Qh452_X-G7uzwHUrXP1t5kv5u2rHIY6OQcS8My0i_VEgR-z6g/s1600-h/5.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5259238215803474482" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEishUBv1eGJ9AJW8b8WVBu6BNc0JWbzBYR-rBNACyxFxqqTLuk7R026LXAX562fhEHkB-HxscwknXZ6KZruivX71Qh452_X-G7uzwHUrXP1t5kv5u2rHIY6OQcS8My0i_VEgR-z6g/s400/5.JPG" border="0" /></a>An Eastman self-potrait with little Vera. </div><div><br /><div></div></div></div>The Reeds in the Windhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12861913317985600596noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12830202.post-21785894768866766642008-10-13T10:44:00.010+00:002008-11-03T10:12:55.455+00:00Liberian Cuisine Part Four: Palm Oil<span style="font-family:verdana;"><em><span style="font-size:85%;color:#336666;">Weather: Partly cloudy and humid, with scattered thunderstorms and evening showers. Daytime temps in the 80s, night time lows in the upper 70s. Light breezes from the East.</span><br /></em></span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#660000;">Throughout Africa, and all over the world, palm oil is extremely popular. The oil comes from palm nuts, is then refined to remove the deep red color and distinctive taste, and sold to virtually every market on Earth. In the United States, you can find it in just about every store in prepackaged baked good, and it is often used to make the “<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">crème</span> filling “ in products like Twinkies or <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Oreos</span>.<br /><br />In places where palm trees actually grow—and of course we are not talking about coconut palms, but palm nut palms—you can also find unrefined palm oil, or "red oil," as it is called here and elsewhere. Red oil has a strong, musky flavor, much stronger, for instance, than olive oil. It is used frequently and liberally in most Liberian dishes.<br /></span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#660000;">For the first two and a half years of our time here, we used red oil sparingly, in part because we only liked it in certain dishes. We preferred purchasing “vegetable oil” from the city stores. We’d buy vegetable oil in five gallon containers and go through them surprisingly fast. </span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#660000;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#660000;">After a while we learned two things that caused a change in our eating behavior. The first was our Monday-Friday cook, Vera used between a cup and a cup and two cups of oil in every dish she cooked for us. The second tidbit was that the copious amounts of oil we were consuming was not merely vegetable oil, it was in fact refined palm oil. This caused us to conduct some research, and the results surprised us. </span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#660000;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#660000;">While there remains some controversy around palm oil, both the World Health Organization and the American Heart Association have suggested it is a fairly unhealthy oil as oils go and ought to be avoided when possible. The problem is its saturated fat content. Saturated fats are associated with heart disease, high blood pressure and stroke, and when it comes to saturated fats, palm oil and red oil are leaders of the pack. Note the following chart from a nutrition and diet book. The red line indicated Saturated Fat, the gray section indicates more healthy <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Monounsaturated</span> Fat, and the yellow and green sections healthy Omega 6 and Omega 3 oils, respectively. There is a key at the top of the chart. Note the "palm oil" column.<br /></span><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#660000;"></span><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#660000;"><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5256588747252461474" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQa1dEB0IGcCB2S4kYIE4LvRcvxsNIpBb9FyQvIBmbedsdInckvQBYuMp8yebZuKEcCPHWx_gTuPEwNtNDm2531tonVoQgPBWuyaHwrO7hrdRKVYFdkbY48uXGG-HRJVsUMw2fNw/s400/Olis6.jpg" border="0" />And if you really want to go crazy, consider "palm Kernel oil" This comes from inside the palm nut. This is what palm kernel oil would look like on that chart.<br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5256588312794626370" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEYhd4d1hYj6_g7R4Gaaw7v4G45sy-y01NdVK_fd5Ky6QO9HBdfendFeA3E8ryBI0adfufUajnwi6xRdO7KFiRDNB8y-KmnjXSkg5F-Wpo8hYiA18vM1oST7-bjkCAD1SEt5fJ8w/s400/7.jpg" border="0" />Incredibly, palm oil-- red or refined--contains more saturated fat (51%) than lard. Palm kernel oil contains even more- 82%- more in fact than pure beef fat or butter.<br /><br />In this age of claims and counter claims regarding foods, we know we do not know everything regarding palm oil. But we think we know it is <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">ok</span> if we follow the advice of the WHO and the AHA and avoid it. Soybean and other oils are available in Liberia, but they are very expensive (One liter costs around $10.00) . Yet this has additional advantages, as we use even less now because of the costs. We wonder, however, about our Liberian friends. The average life span is 48. We do not know a lot of old Liberians. How much of this is due to a lifetime of consuming red oil? Yet really, what choice do my Liberia neighbors have? What does a calorie-deprived people do when the choice is an affordable, calorie and flavor rich oil, or no oils at all because of some unforseen danger called "saturated fat?" So while it is easy for us to pass on palm oil, it is really impossible-- unthinkable-- for our friends. </span></p><p align="center"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5256592814598536754" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMqGlTYA-TNP_j3LjFwUcyYdntrCtqRHEfNZg3_i2C9WLMQ3L1iquyEl5tXw_H0p2eYjFUgp9QNfcwtkVThGdAXZ7f9c0rc74HzEPoMcEzhS5GikThZfzWgipm9cmRpI3xcA7yTA/s400/1.JPG" border="0" /> <span style="font-size:85%;">Palm bunches, freshly cut from the tree.</span></p><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh70CGINPfdXVtDLxwM3qY7jCZsCDUd780vHcjLDiVZwimUv-3yjaKM33JxAcYxLExGpvEDedlcpO4hD_tPLIKI81oA279C1Fy89V8Z-6PqAlxjQ3i-arVujVI1JUd-mLY5EzazAg/s1600-h/2.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5256590740815820146" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh70CGINPfdXVtDLxwM3qY7jCZsCDUd780vHcjLDiVZwimUv-3yjaKM33JxAcYxLExGpvEDedlcpO4hD_tPLIKI81oA279C1Fy89V8Z-6PqAlxjQ3i-arVujVI1JUd-mLY5EzazAg/s400/2.JPG" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;"> Sold everywhere on the street.</span><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpQBVa-hkHj8kASMPe-hYRWrnMdY4_YzAdBtbOYmP9kuKuWkACFKok0VwXFDz9Qp6BjLSLTtqjv5CnQl6F9eg0_j8ewhadr5QHbtv_UnK9a-NdMTfTiWRvBKsBX0peITA0qF9quw/s1600-h/3.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5256590432796960802" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpQBVa-hkHj8kASMPe-hYRWrnMdY4_YzAdBtbOYmP9kuKuWkACFKok0VwXFDz9Qp6BjLSLTtqjv5CnQl6F9eg0_j8ewhadr5QHbtv_UnK9a-NdMTfTiWRvBKsBX0peITA0qF9quw/s400/3.JPG" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;">Pounded into palm butter-- Vera will rinse out the pulp in the blue bowl, then boil it down.</span><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizpfT0ghBEI_rw0d7Bz6830SWLaZgPaO-hEHugufqIjeg60aGXYGxzBhH5PCbEkiRYpm3gk8IUcO_gdCR4XApDcMKxvpCtX76Yh5m4mufsufzsAARuNxPL9OVajOclLSUFk1SrYw/s1600-h/4.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5256589920357278626" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizpfT0ghBEI_rw0d7Bz6830SWLaZgPaO-hEHugufqIjeg60aGXYGxzBhH5PCbEkiRYpm3gk8IUcO_gdCR4XApDcMKxvpCtX76Yh5m4mufsufzsAARuNxPL9OVajOclLSUFk1SrYw/s400/4.JPG" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;"> Red Palm oil sold at the Foster Town Market. Note several tables are selling it. About $2.00 a 1.5 liter bottle.</span><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaLMj0hd1xjNRj8GqqZqIO-uPdaEKzVNEQ4AiM_zglKKcDjQiRH5TA7FiYsqrtlbD2sIgNAiqrYWyvHRuBncKTcvRJWMA8MyPMawShrUX8Aj6kQcm3hNd-CoxGxcj4j_BLdmKcxA/s1600-h/5.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5256589390381111602" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaLMj0hd1xjNRj8GqqZqIO-uPdaEKzVNEQ4AiM_zglKKcDjQiRH5TA7FiYsqrtlbD2sIgNAiqrYWyvHRuBncKTcvRJWMA8MyPMawShrUX8Aj6kQcm3hNd-CoxGxcj4j_BLdmKcxA/s400/5.JPG" border="0" /></a> <span style="font-size:85%;">Trokon displaying the beloved saturated liquid.</span><br /><div></div></div></div>The Reeds in the Windhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12861913317985600596noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12830202.post-27305229550137862032008-10-06T11:40:00.005+00:002008-10-06T12:15:26.966+00:00A Long Two Weeks<span style="font-family:verdana;"><em><span style="color:#336666;"><span style="font-size:85%;">Weather: The month of September was again the wettest month of the year with about an average of just under 20 inches a week for the four weeks. One week saw 30 inches. It rained almost every night, less in the day, but whenever the sun peeked through the overcast, it was steamy. October shows some sign of drying up, although this morning we’ve received over two inches and it’s still raining. Hi temps mostly in the upper 70sF to low 80s, except when the sun shines, then mid 80s. Light and variable breezes.</span><br /></span></em><br /><span style="color:#330033;">Renita is in the US attending a conference and talking about LEAD to churches and relief agencies. During these two weeks I’ve been a complete domestic with home schooling, shopping, and trying to keep the house at least organized enough so we will be able to make it presentable when the lady of the house returns. It is not easy to be the only adult here; Renita and I share the duties, and she handles the stuff that tries my patience like the frequent banging at our gate. But the people on the other side of that gate are the reason we came, so it’s good for me to be tested this way. <br /><br />I also need Renita with me as we finalize our exit strategy from Liberia. Our plan is to leave by November 20, go to North America for six weeks, and then continue on to our next home by January 20. Moving is hassle enough, moving to another country requires an organizer like Renita. Fortunately, we travel light.<br /><br />The two weeks sans wife and mother have given the three of us who remain a chance to draw closer and feel like a unique unit. I’ve had more time to listen to Hannah and Noah, get to know them better, and see in more detail how they’ve changed from the little kids I knew. My parenting theory is that unless parents are willing to change as their children do, they will begin to drift apart. Kids are like anyone else—they want to be known and understood. As they grow, they change, they develop. As the years go by, they become different than they were in many ways (although they maintain core elements.) If parents don’t “re-get to know” their kids periodically, they will lose touch with them, and their children will rightfully feel less and less understood and appreciated. The kids will drift, complain of being misunderstood, and parents often respond to this by either trying to apply more controls or by trying to reason with their children. But neither of these tactics work if the parents are still dealing with the “children that were,” not the “children that are.” Nobody like to “be reasoned with” by somebody who thinks she knows you, but doesn’t. <br /><br />But enough of my theories. We continue to await Renita, much beloved and needed wife and mother. The house is messier, we can smell a dead lizard that the cat brought in but require her nose to find it, the school routine is probably too relaxed, I keep forgetting to take my doxy (anti malaria medicine), the floor is a bit sandier than usual, but we are hanging in there. <br /></span></span><br /><br /><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSEHfOJ4t9vwNrPcwjg7BrBT-AogriOu02qz9_-hTad_cY010DR2jf-s_guqhE7Vg98kx-iqLdAf_WYDRL7Kjoji_i5AIzhNyNAbo8Iba4D11qSRrrkbzAEv0fOXrIc7Pcfo8hbw/s1600-h/1.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5254007132989513490" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSEHfOJ4t9vwNrPcwjg7BrBT-AogriOu02qz9_-hTad_cY010DR2jf-s_guqhE7Vg98kx-iqLdAf_WYDRL7Kjoji_i5AIzhNyNAbo8Iba4D11qSRrrkbzAEv0fOXrIc7Pcfo8hbw/s400/1.JPG" border="0" /></a> Daily kid activities while mom's away: pilfering our palm nuts...<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUlIEqGP5Rqd_c5jP1K3MZvDVv8duzcSf26NtDPuDJ1blj3-9KwYBipzAWfWTAMB52-T7GP8W1MFnxrHGjMD7Ony-niC2SfDiEoTS7CNCweRQXXoQ2iYnDRWEih3rdAqhPvYn24A/s1600-h/2.JPG"></a><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5254009903117676514" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvG-gf_pBu7tsnTUBoXOKWRzBsZAp-LvUfFL1gOf0AURxiucXM5v72guDYWxfEGrc_l_Ki2jlaYcQe_CD8Vu2DSmEbUL5FOzeVDYtM9Q4aLQi7FQJMx910hRF3kWu7PE6Y77zodQ/s400/IMG_6865.JPG" border="0" />Pummeling the neighbors...<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWoslDpdcpoN-HXZYfu41wsq8_R0bNk9uTNiBKHlNA9dRhfmy75bjSLL2G3r0qk00xionCIPa3LIEEQvrGii7liz0e-mkwsYIshgRqXKICZHKaT-lAgaV5-CYhratBEp5zHSZSWw/s1600-h/3.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5254005656750644386" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWoslDpdcpoN-HXZYfu41wsq8_R0bNk9uTNiBKHlNA9dRhfmy75bjSLL2G3r0qk00xionCIPa3LIEEQvrGii7liz0e-mkwsYIshgRqXKICZHKaT-lAgaV5-CYhratBEp5zHSZSWw/s400/3.JPG" border="0" /></a> Hitting the bottle-- here Eastman drools over palm oil...<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjH7ZCzjjsKer5o7y4bo7-hf3hPhaGIvW6LO7YRWlCeeLrOUJ0RSQlFKXQoVx6UyXsE63HPhFBC84fCu4dntFcIq4uj2ky_Mv_JIZZgF7QriSrp_m11qevVqTp6IuxMmAIQ13kyyA/s1600-h/4.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5254005655615682338" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjH7ZCzjjsKer5o7y4bo7-hf3hPhaGIvW6LO7YRWlCeeLrOUJ0RSQlFKXQoVx6UyXsE63HPhFBC84fCu4dntFcIq4uj2ky_Mv_JIZZgF7QriSrp_m11qevVqTp6IuxMmAIQ13kyyA/s400/4.JPG" border="0" /></a> Opening boxes packed for our move...<br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZNbM3z1ubgZocMWMpRYUaZdV-Gpl-RPOeJWo_ihkPMjzf2NkC0oDkjRgIV6e9ToxkNTY8p2lXtSdIHrtcGAiQLKpHPOCpXESHEw27Nq0OMCgJedsPgfIQ3_YxIHlA6VaM1KeCyg/s1600-h/5.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5254005243867503906" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZNbM3z1ubgZocMWMpRYUaZdV-Gpl-RPOeJWo_ihkPMjzf2NkC0oDkjRgIV6e9ToxkNTY8p2lXtSdIHrtcGAiQLKpHPOCpXESHEw27Nq0OMCgJedsPgfIQ3_YxIHlA6VaM1KeCyg/s400/5.JPG" border="0" /></a> Noah ready for night time rogue activity whilst Hannah prepares for partying... (ok, ok, it might have just been a Halloween dress up thing, but it adds to the drama)<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVsPBAEHxjWtdc8bBfo9kJ-Jn5jxPng5mj9tNd0mfwdAy3euivU29MLmlLHO6h2g70Nb77grC7LuD_TgIArIDylpOcQbWPv7VCT9J8DhmNDQoSd0z4r8ut4NJH7TcNgrQv_6cPIw/s1600-h/6.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5254005245215592306" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVsPBAEHxjWtdc8bBfo9kJ-Jn5jxPng5mj9tNd0mfwdAy3euivU29MLmlLHO6h2g70Nb77grC7LuD_TgIArIDylpOcQbWPv7VCT9J8DhmNDQoSd0z4r8ut4NJH7TcNgrQv_6cPIw/s400/6.JPG" border="0" /></a> ... And all the while, Mom from her hotel balcony in Michigan observes all with yet another of her top-secret resources...<br /><div> </div></div><br /></div>The Reeds in the Windhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12861913317985600596noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12830202.post-1349460015680742602008-09-29T11:39:00.009+00:002008-10-15T11:37:06.474+00:00A Land of Dying Young<span style="font-family:verdana;">The average life span of a Liberian is 48 years. In part, this is due to a high infant mortality rate, but in reality, we see relatively few old Liberians. Of course they are here, but when a man or woman reaches sixty, it is an accomplishment. Recently in our neighborhood, and also among the LEAD family, a number of friends, aged 30 to 50, have died. One was killed by her husband. Most died of unknown illnesses. The recent deaths got us to thinking: in our time here, how many have died young, or if older, unnecessarily? The list that follows includes only people we knew, or people that lived in our community. It is also only the list that Renita and I could recall.<br /><br />Drowning: 12 </span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">Bacterial meningitis: 2<br />Undiagnosed illness: 4<br />HIV- related illness: 2<br />Gunshot 3<br />Domestic Violence 1<br />Pedestrian hit by car 3<br />Snake bite 2<br />Carbon monoxide poisoning 2 </span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="color:#cc0000;">Update October 15: Add two more deaths. Last week, a young boy drowned on Thinkers Village Beach, and the wife of a pastor friend died of cerebral malaria.<br /></span><br />The average age of the above list is around 30. Some, of course, are beyond the scope of even the most modern medicine to treat. Yet most could have been prevented.</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">Medical facilities here are still operating without proper equipment and enough trained staff. Our medical friends are real heroes, working with enormous pressures. But still, too many times patients are routinely diagnosed with malaria without looking further, given antibiotics, and sent home. In the two cases of meningitis, the symptoms were missed, so the patient was sent home and died. Liberians often go to Chinese herbalist hacks that have sprung up around Monrovia. Theses parasites charge high fees for simple teas and over-the-counter remedies that do nothing for the truly sick. In addition, Liberians often seek traditional “bush” healers who often hasten death with unsanitary procedures or unsound practices. Good friends of mine have died in this country when they shouldn’t have. Or at least, they probably wouldn’t have, if only they had access to the kind of heath care so many in the West do. </span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ffffff;">.</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">When I was having suspicious symptoms in Nigeria, after being given the best care anyone could expect there, I was flown out in a private jet to Europe and given a battery of the most sophisticated tests the world offers to determine I was suffering from headaches. When my Liberian friends have been sick, I have watched them suffer, get misdiagnosed at the local hospital, released with a standard “placebo pack” of vitamins and antibiotics, get worse, desperately turn to charlatans who take their money in return for false hope, get sicker and too often die as family and loved ones look on helplessly. There is something terribly wrong with this picture. But the pictures are everywhere. Here are a few of them-- friends gone.<br /></span><br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5251407211596450802" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjX-ajdZ9wLjZ3KULD2Amfrd_axyVrMcgzihkusMRvTjreLzsyzGsdnPvo9V_CgKT6dzzPo5IESw_0vaJeWDS5Jj1EU8_-lXd6UCLBzOP1WIF8oGhJJbmjS4eEO-ypEx38nOnMRTw/s400/IMG_0524.JPG" border="0" /> <p align="center">My dear friend, Samuel Reeves Sr. Died from bacterial meningitis-- treatable if caught. It wasn't. Deacon Reeves is the oldest of all we knew who died-- mid sixties.<br /></p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5251407213820357522" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9UcYZvkdNE-rJ-jbrSuV0L2_jhSji8qcEqs_b7xYcysepkYZi2utu8i3eYQafwh-I_avuqMgUt7KT79xrTVVNmSa386ZAyTImDVJK11MyvqlywdVifZgEVmkVcYySVyc_IauoOA/s400/IMG_1688.JPG" border="0" /> <p align="center">One of LEAD's businessmen. Saye died suddenly in his early fifties.<br /></p><div align="center"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5251406926838009970" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQjCcmbO9fo_G2mruowj89ZvUcCm_4O_R9ORykGisu_05dtCW7aSIQ8TmOAO5DLfj0OepvVbR9XZZhpA2ffprE0qbEm_Jx_U2gCVE9XsK6HL-bKqviXAIj4PwXIXJ_0b_v82MgfA/s400/IMG_1997.JPG" border="0" />Henry and his wife Mary. They ran an poor orphanage until we helped them find homes and better facilities for their orphans. He died in April 2006 after a short bout with a mysterious, undiagnosed illness. She died three months later of some sort of liver disease, in the hospital. They left four children behind-- suddenly orphans themselves.<br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5251406930906243570" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 254px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 215px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="215" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFNHO6A3BspsSLjvBRhuQCxPKKfR5mwcouqw2x_-AkkCy7Y2Qv5FtCFRUvTcGXOI1eliiYUUqfLaat75WaAImqrXk0bnn1wpWcV4fwqEC6H_KOVxMQiiqU74x8IqZkH4wBYutIjg/s400/IMG_5151.JPG" width="211" border="0" />A little boy, Otiera, who lived next door to us. He drowned in a lagoon just off the ocean. </div>The Reeds in the Windhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12861913317985600596noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12830202.post-31560258464996090102008-09-22T10:13:00.004+00:002008-09-22T10:47:12.691+00:00<span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="color:#003333;"><span style="font-size:180%;">Leaving Liberia<br /></span><strong>Part One: Why?</strong><br /><br />The Reeds have known these days would come since we arrived thirty eight months ago, but we didn’t know the details. We didn't know when they would come. But they are upon us. For those of you who have faithfully joined us thus far, some of you may be surprised at the news. True, when we came we said we’d be here at least three years, so in a way there was advance notice. But there are a lot of good reasons to continue; why change scenery now? We agree with the spirit of the question. There is so much to do in Liberia. This country will be digging itself out of its post-war abyss for decades to come. It needs all the support it can get. The skills that Renita and I offer--psychosocial, educational, organizational, administrative-- have proven of value in a country where so much is being rebuilt from the ground up. In addition, we have adjusted to life here. We know how to be in this country and it has become familiar and often comfortable to us. To leave and go somewhere else would mean another possibly long and difficult period of adjustment. <br /><br />We understand these facts very well, and while the thought of going leaves us emotionally ambivalent, we are convinced beyond doubt that it is the time to go. There are two reasons either of which alone would be enough to cause this move, and neither are reasons that look to change anytime soon.<br /><br /><strong>Reason #1</strong> Hannah and Noah need a healthier socio-educational environment. That sounds a little psycho-babble-ish, but what it means is our kids need to go to a good school where they can be seen as part of the crowd and make friends. Let’s parse that sentence out a bit. <em>“Our kids need to go to a good school…”</em> For three years, first Renita and then both of us have provided Hannah and Noah with the best home schooling we could. And we think we’ve done a good job. But home schooling is not an ideal choice for us or our kids any more. It keeps Renita and I away from other important work, and it locks Hannah and Noah into a very limited educational environment. <em>“… where they can be seen as part of the crowd and make friends.”</em> Those Liberian children who we think of as friends are atypical. Friendship requires a certain level of unspoken understanding, a connection that does not need explaining. That kind of connection is extraordinary even in a shared culture, how much more in two very different cultures? The most obvious solution of course, is to send our kids to a good school with kids from many cultures—including their own—here in Liberia. But none exist. There are no quality international high schools in Liberia. If we want our kids to enjoy a healthier “socio-educational environment,” we need to go where that environment is. <br /><br /><strong>Reason #2</strong> We need to free our family and friends from the burden of being our sole support. Some of you have been incredibly generous, giving thousands of dollars toward our efforts here. All of the support we have received for everything—food, housing, transportation, logistics, everything—has come from less than a hundred steadfast people who love us and love the people of Liberia. When we first told our family and friends about this work and asked them to join us, we promised them the financial sacrifice would be for a limited time. We need to honor that promise. If we could do that and stay in Liberia, we would (assuming Reason #1 was addressed). But the Liberian economy certainly cannot support us, and the organizations with which we work, the Christian Reformed World Relief Committee and Partners Worldwide, have no paid positions here. If we want to continue the kind of work we are doing and not rely solely on loved ones to do it, we need to leave Liberia. </span></span><br /><p><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="color:#003333;">Some of you are already asking, "What next?" "What is for Liberia, what next for the Reeds?" We have some answers for you, but we are still working on the details. Stay tuned, and we'll get them to you as fast as we can. In the meantime, enjoy these random shots from a place we have grown to love.</span></span></p><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6z_bNT-mgLEhuK7Dez5iLc0VleL0roQYVw_ChYKSqa8rPVIWKSJrpmc-GFU4kQ-sHJNtMCmD0hkmqNVC_4ayB50oC7BA88DUuk08ll6ltvWLbHeS2CjS82l9OSu_EslConZ0yuA/s1600-h/1.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5248789707228471362" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6z_bNT-mgLEhuK7Dez5iLc0VleL0roQYVw_ChYKSqa8rPVIWKSJrpmc-GFU4kQ-sHJNtMCmD0hkmqNVC_4ayB50oC7BA88DUuk08ll6ltvWLbHeS2CjS82l9OSu_EslConZ0yuA/s400/1.JPG" border="0" /></a> The lush vegetation of Liberia-- always green, but during the rainy season so lush you almost get drenched looking at it. September 2006<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvyvck-3BoDbTB5xwCOS0kc4vodu2PAD5kVxqWpW874LV8SzjHMOyGMtqO05EmpRkJcKcaVVrYcOqC4lqA2qUKMxp8zfS0Lmftb6uCcMxHcgIqwiC5S8YBOctzLqtwK4d_id7B7Q/s1600-h/2.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5248789711337057954" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvyvck-3BoDbTB5xwCOS0kc4vodu2PAD5kVxqWpW874LV8SzjHMOyGMtqO05EmpRkJcKcaVVrYcOqC4lqA2qUKMxp8zfS0Lmftb6uCcMxHcgIqwiC5S8YBOctzLqtwK4d_id7B7Q/s400/2.JPG" border="0" /></a> Among my most favorite pictures of Renita. I've probably posted it before. This on our first morning in Liberia, July 2005.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnb1W7BQ79Eds5lP5j2Jcd65x6dJTRg1qlTm0tQ9exu7gl0Wpsv5JO_ptwm_kZsO2qAzr2-gTq9wRaZzjwdvAKYC9l8VbcTrb2lAR80b7IL8GoGZII5Vw8RAuDSsHsaL5NK2mrCg/s1600-h/3.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5248789331525911586" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnb1W7BQ79Eds5lP5j2Jcd65x6dJTRg1qlTm0tQ9exu7gl0Wpsv5JO_ptwm_kZsO2qAzr2-gTq9wRaZzjwdvAKYC9l8VbcTrb2lAR80b7IL8GoGZII5Vw8RAuDSsHsaL5NK2mrCg/s400/3.JPG" border="0" /></a>What can I say? Kids, everyday.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFCOYbsn4zEQ-qm_JCDbaJ5BFSyiFfHZz1Nz0hKLfdtXJ5Zi6YG2H9qpyRytPvetXljp688dmkWfOMdhswX8AezLN5ldNx7G3gqdQLN0ER5LP2eebhNNmrtjXLeH4Bc7Me9Kw1nw/s1600-h/4.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5248789334906969394" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFCOYbsn4zEQ-qm_JCDbaJ5BFSyiFfHZz1Nz0hKLfdtXJ5Zi6YG2H9qpyRytPvetXljp688dmkWfOMdhswX8AezLN5ldNx7G3gqdQLN0ER5LP2eebhNNmrtjXLeH4Bc7Me9Kw1nw/s400/4.jpg" border="0" /></a> The countryside-- this a farm house in Kakata. April 2007<br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgk78gajyCasC67f7Qxj9_dtMZ6zlmdyxvJf6S607S1kzfMUBbDUVYKUXEudTkBsYptkYqSrL8VhOs2-ZJJxhHjOtNkgck16udHSDIEerjTwDqJZKY7yX4PiaH33purWV0UQM70zA/s1600-h/5.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5248788677846208594" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgk78gajyCasC67f7Qxj9_dtMZ6zlmdyxvJf6S607S1kzfMUBbDUVYKUXEudTkBsYptkYqSrL8VhOs2-ZJJxhHjOtNkgck16udHSDIEerjTwDqJZKY7yX4PiaH33purWV0UQM70zA/s400/5.jpg" border="0" /></a> The city. Monrovia. April 2008<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1dXCUbfKjCFuW8AxWwsQPEdo3syu2fGBdubdG6lVj6_o-i49dO-bDiO2ZBdeFHTwjzLYVe3Xr6yd0HewN-kkzAFvA8uf0MEHg8KjohwM81Qzq00Yl-X3HyuiLtZzJzwvikJ-Rvg/s1600-h/6.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5248788682031244210" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1dXCUbfKjCFuW8AxWwsQPEdo3syu2fGBdubdG6lVj6_o-i49dO-bDiO2ZBdeFHTwjzLYVe3Xr6yd0HewN-kkzAFvA8uf0MEHg8KjohwM81Qzq00Yl-X3HyuiLtZzJzwvikJ-Rvg/s400/6.JPG" border="0" /></a> Another favorite shot. This of Trokon, on the left. What will I do without this young man and his brother, Eastman, in my life? February 2007<br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilKA7P1GouX_4Xd2AUDKt_BRANl1XI-c34rNmklPlJrWSHpg__Isexg_9Q8eWU7FMTwyu72gpghQBq5d5ymrAc2Gf4Fx1dIGdUL6KGH0loD4LJuXjFQA7vY-TcY2TYqfz1AoaNDA/s1600-h/7.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5248788114379893682" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilKA7P1GouX_4Xd2AUDKt_BRANl1XI-c34rNmklPlJrWSHpg__Isexg_9Q8eWU7FMTwyu72gpghQBq5d5ymrAc2Gf4Fx1dIGdUL6KGH0loD4LJuXjFQA7vY-TcY2TYqfz1AoaNDA/s400/7.JPG" border="0" /></a> Max, this morning. <br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhEkX5sfjRVM2UQb7Jlk3vmbAZiDsjIa0ikJgvYXioBm6yd-WI1mvhWGxHV_OYGAVwt0i-i9uCNrHl9Gk0S9-UfrUnoQGZ7qZNRpAflpWtisF8DupRjLWHP97cvIzMPzdXA05gvw/s1600-h/8.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5248788120645365794" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhEkX5sfjRVM2UQb7Jlk3vmbAZiDsjIa0ikJgvYXioBm6yd-WI1mvhWGxHV_OYGAVwt0i-i9uCNrHl9Gk0S9-UfrUnoQGZ7qZNRpAflpWtisF8DupRjLWHP97cvIzMPzdXA05gvw/s400/8.JPG" border="0" /></a> Sunset off the porch, September 2008<br /><br /><div> </div></div></div><br /></div>The Reeds in the Windhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12861913317985600596noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12830202.post-72489740460635098952008-09-15T11:12:00.004+00:002008-09-15T11:39:10.099+00:00ReedNews Update: September Edition<span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:85%;color:#336666;"><em>Weather: Overcast most days, with moderate rains almost every night, averaging just under an inch a day. Light and variable winds from the south or west, with temps in the upper 60sF at night to upper 70s in the day. Much hotter and very humid when the sun makes an appearance.</em></span><br /><br /><span style="color:#330033;">As we round another rainy season, we are enjoying “Liberian Normal.” Even things that used to rattle us, like the car blowing a radiator out in the bush (last week), or the generator going on the fritz (this week) or getting the Pathfinder stuck in the mud (three days ago) are taken in stride. Stuff happens in Liberia, and you just work the problem ‘til its fixed. But that’s on a micro level. On a macro level, “fixing the problem” or “problems” in Liberia is not as simple. There are many mechanics in the garage, and not all agree on the diagnosis or the appropriate tools. But the country remains at peace and stable. Here are some news tidbits:<br /><br />Item: Food prices have climbed to record levels. Almost everything has tripled in price. From potato greens in the market to apples in the grocery store, the prices are making life very difficult for the average Liberian. The cost of transportation, of course, has tripled as well, since it is the price of fuel which lies at the heart of the overall price hike. We find it merely frustrating; our neighbors find they must go hungry some days.<br /><br />Item: The controversial Truth and Reconciliation Commission continues. Following the model of South Africa and Sierra Leone, the Liberian TRC is intended to provide a forum for victims of the civil war to tell their stories, and for perpetrators to confess their crimes in a safe environment leading to forgiveness, restitution, and restoration. This is how it is supposed to work. Lately though, the process has been somewhat politicized, with some grandstanding and finger pointing as some well known figures take the stand. The TRC proceedings are broadcast on the radio, so everybody hears the testimony. <br /><br />Item: The Sirleaf-Johnson administration is cracking down on the rogues who plague this country, most often at night: the legislature has passed the death penalty for certain crimes related to armed robbery. Amnesty International and the UN have opposed the move, but Liberians are wholeheartedly behind it. Several rogues were burned alive in Red Light the other day, and we’ve heard rumors that three rogues were shot to death and secretly buried just down the road from here while we were in Nigeria. <br /><br />Item: LEAD just graduated its 11th and 12th class, with its 13th starting tomorrow in Buchanan. Total in loans disbursed to date US$159,000. Repayment rate: above 90%.</span></span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="color:#330033;"><br />Item: In Reed news, Renita and I are preparing for two October gatherings. She’s getting ready to leave us for the States to attend a Partners Worldwide conference in Grand Rapids, Michigan, while I am getting ready for an important one day meeting with several Liberian NGOs and Joel Huyser, who’ll be representing the Christian Reformed Church in North America to discuss the future of organizations like Christian Reformed World Relief Committee (CRWRC), Christian Reformed World Missions (CRWM), and Partners Worldwide (PW) in Liberia. <br /><br />Item: FACT marches on. The Fostertown Association for Community Transformation is looking to the future. Knowing the Reeds will not be around after November, and thus a key conduit of support will be gone, the board is developing partnerships with Liberians of means and government reps to join them in upcoming activities. In the meantime, the FACT market continues to provide for the community, although in the present economy, it has taken a hit like everyone else. There is room for a hundred market tables, currently only 40 are filled. </span></span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#330033;"></span><br /><span style="color:#330033;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">Here are a few pictures of contemporary LiL. (Life in Liberia)</span><br /></span><br /><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOEuCtEewLmKkAWz2xj8vkAKyeQEldT-_xlJTGqHWfjsf05cBnvZBu9HOf1KM1N4YirZwKQIiVItgPvGSZvYWD0yHDpcNDcYY9Af7bERQHKukDsqNZDQ-7Ibo4sQCK3Od_mWRPCg/s1600-h/1.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5246206207746167154" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOEuCtEewLmKkAWz2xj8vkAKyeQEldT-_xlJTGqHWfjsf05cBnvZBu9HOf1KM1N4YirZwKQIiVItgPvGSZvYWD0yHDpcNDcYY9Af7bERQHKukDsqNZDQ-7Ibo4sQCK3Od_mWRPCg/s400/1.JPG" border="0" /></a> <span style="font-size:85%;">Sometimes teaching a LEAD staffer how to drive has its consequences-- "Watch out for the porch-o!" This <em>was </em>the Buchanan office porch.</span><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBKuT_ezNjf9pcev_T1Z4dEYP6VdVM5vCj0onKEDh1d289pVoUbZBFgnpzWsavt3Mub4dahFoqOTTcm7czmONuo7ghJ9YUJUADq9dduRyKDfV5SnVFG0hhFnFliGhFW5Kj6Ldwjw/s1600-h/2.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5246206213786183778" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBKuT_ezNjf9pcev_T1Z4dEYP6VdVM5vCj0onKEDh1d289pVoUbZBFgnpzWsavt3Mub4dahFoqOTTcm7czmONuo7ghJ9YUJUADq9dduRyKDfV5SnVFG0hhFnFliGhFW5Kj6Ldwjw/s400/2.JPG" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;"> Now a few faces: Garmi, seller of red oil and other goods at the FACT market.</span><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimcdvzRiRPQEAdEaWKW8_96iqURwcDNdh9ldZqSvThp_7yVyRl2zdQ1vvd7tpa0bSvDeNqRRt2XnlmiZWrmG1Ms94mF4pSmQ5kNnMxWcvx7hZiEHCmQBLXT_rzqDdIti2ydHCEOA/s1600-h/3.JPG"></a><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5246206710736810834" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfzvXyk2DkfsjVjwzU3HyypSTz8e9YkSSUZZDtcoGWmMfnqdjdX60WdHfd9SStzXLGpx_D9gdeXe1czzd1W3TdHhPmtstToDtGgPxOTZ51CHHWLmCEJ3vt-qmHNujyDvpT4I2SHw/s400/IMG_2138.JPG" border="0" /><span style="font-size:85%;">Hannah and Noah, performing Abbot and Costello's "Who's of First" for our Gambia friends last May.</span><br /><br /></div><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmwc2Lz-rzDbA8OfTX5ivuOIlbMnMwlza3FxfbXnhok594DXn69uv_7RZ7cVayk5kRcvyrbV9U5YS2D60FGsktp-P8BhkT-Vshh2hEj2zsTqZVTPEgmz_LWdcd1MN3GewT3eAcZg/s1600-h/4.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5246205128240292914" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmwc2Lz-rzDbA8OfTX5ivuOIlbMnMwlza3FxfbXnhok594DXn69uv_7RZ7cVayk5kRcvyrbV9U5YS2D60FGsktp-P8BhkT-Vshh2hEj2zsTqZVTPEgmz_LWdcd1MN3GewT3eAcZg/s400/4.JPG" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;"> Dene'. One of my alltime favorite liberian images. I think Hannah took it.<br /></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjF8DRmWuBR3sh_AwEtjGx7z3nGhVuJX14mnCFloLzz19XN98nKzrwS1l2WZX-uI0sJTwWS-uhIzbHOq1D-jUvhpbHK3nX8lVOg75XSrNB15KBxkCsu2ka5FeHHJFzImOJL9W1W0Q/s1600-h/5.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5246205126722380946" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjF8DRmWuBR3sh_AwEtjGx7z3nGhVuJX14mnCFloLzz19XN98nKzrwS1l2WZX-uI0sJTwWS-uhIzbHOq1D-jUvhpbHK3nX8lVOg75XSrNB15KBxkCsu2ka5FeHHJFzImOJL9W1W0Q/s400/5.JPG" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;"> Apple mugging while Renita enjoys. <br /></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoEGF3x2ApnZ3AeVk0q5Re15s6aVwpO55Gwke5HhiRbcsXhR8nLHETJDjcf_bGGAinz01vg28HEJbYU0hgseaTtzrCa6EZy1G6jXEeacUZdpTvlm5IIEnX-1kEMV44ok1dq6daPQ/s1600-h/6.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5246205131688034226" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoEGF3x2ApnZ3AeVk0q5Re15s6aVwpO55Gwke5HhiRbcsXhR8nLHETJDjcf_bGGAinz01vg28HEJbYU0hgseaTtzrCa6EZy1G6jXEeacUZdpTvlm5IIEnX-1kEMV44ok1dq6daPQ/s400/6.jpg" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;"> My Mom and Step-Dad back in Michigan-- celebrating her 80th birthday September 13 at a Detroit Tigers baseball game. Go lady! HAPPY BIRTHDAY MOM!</span><br /><br /><br /></div>The Reeds in the Windhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12861913317985600596noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12830202.post-52479753860443387302008-09-08T11:18:00.005+00:002008-09-08T11:35:52.200+00:00Back Home to a New Routine<span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#336666;"><em>Weather: Monday the 8th welcomed us with very dark skies and heavy rains for the first day of school. Unfortunately, with the generator failing us, we resorted to education by candle light. We got about an inch in the fist half hour, then another over the course of the day. Very light winds out of the West, with temps in the upper 70sF.</em></span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#660000;">It felt great to be home together again-- for all of us: for Hannah after three months visiting a dozen homes and two summer camps in the US and Canada, for Noah visiting some but mostly overdosing on video games and his own imagination with the infamous Steenwyk Brothers, for Yers Trooly after bouncing around for a month from Nigeria to Italy to Belgium within the context of a medical emergency that literally became a big headache, and for Renita jetting around even more, from Liberia to Nigeria back to Liberia, then rushing to me in Milan, joining me in Brussels after a Liberian flight got canceled, then awaiting all of us on her lonesome back in Foster Town.<br /><br />We began our last semester of home schooling today, as well as our normal Liberian life. The routines are similar, but there are important differences. My work with Mother Patern College is finished, at least my active duty with them. This leaves me free to share more home schooling duties. Renita continues her activities with LEAD, but as she hands off more and more to her Liberian colleagues, the nature of her day-to-day changes as well. With every activity, there is a sense that we are finishing something here. So its familiar, but its different.<br /><br />For these are our last three months in Liberia.<br /><br />This is the first we’ve told you, although some of you know. There are a couple reasons we are leaving this land, and we’ll spend a post discussing them soon. We have mixed feelings about moving on, mostly because there is so much more to be done, and we’ve grown fond of the people and the life here. It has become home to us and we will miss it. But we are confident that it is time to go. So sometime in November, we’ll fly out of West Africa. We’ll keep you with us during the whole crazy process of leaving Liberia. And of course, the process of making a new home in, er, ah, now where was it we said we are going?<br /><br />We didn’t. That’s for another post too. So stay tuned, thanks for welcoming us back, and for keeping us company while we were away. Seeya with more news soon. </span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#660000;"></span><br /><br /><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjS_mf_KSqDu_3wuow0FaJuEtWgDY8oOMYTP-XqllGaY3v7Sl3DaMANkPITWABFLS-3-hODTQA56LeU8KF9LM8A63nmXqbw4uQkQ3uChD19sJYFAcMvtUOgwYh9XHXfkGQ_3p-ITA/s1600-h/1.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5243610354388740978" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjS_mf_KSqDu_3wuow0FaJuEtWgDY8oOMYTP-XqllGaY3v7Sl3DaMANkPITWABFLS-3-hODTQA56LeU8KF9LM8A63nmXqbw4uQkQ3uChD19sJYFAcMvtUOgwYh9XHXfkGQ_3p-ITA/s400/1.JPG" border="0" /></a> We're Baa-aack!<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZg5vjy9hWfVuXiWzqZcfKcgLsCXn3mkgobv-fyJx3zO3ulOntYcK8jVSAsz7NOD2ZeR5lu9bmG_6-z-dl7Xr-1XA5vLsh3UxGNsCmrNA9cYlqnzyinjbZe7k9JPIihU-9hnXmlg/s1600-h/2.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5243610357057251410" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZg5vjy9hWfVuXiWzqZcfKcgLsCXn3mkgobv-fyJx3zO3ulOntYcK8jVSAsz7NOD2ZeR5lu9bmG_6-z-dl7Xr-1XA5vLsh3UxGNsCmrNA9cYlqnzyinjbZe7k9JPIihU-9hnXmlg/s400/2.JPG" border="0" /></a> Back to the ol' routine too-- fillin' water, washin' dishes, making hot water on the stove.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyn0EtgwojYLGiGpU3Jh5QgOtUaUI-HcaBvrF9KXA9-8dm1ZS9qN50C-WxIrVulQTTBWd0OjBKX_utPes78MRe0Xpw1juhW3TySt1hfHZu1j07k9vfaH82aOSdgisqpGU3VEe_oA/s1600-h/3.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5243609978697138450" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyn0EtgwojYLGiGpU3Jh5QgOtUaUI-HcaBvrF9KXA9-8dm1ZS9qN50C-WxIrVulQTTBWd0OjBKX_utPes78MRe0Xpw1juhW3TySt1hfHZu1j07k9vfaH82aOSdgisqpGU3VEe_oA/s400/3.JPG" border="0" /></a>Our generator was out Monday morning and it was very dark outside with the heavy overcast-- so its back to school by trusty candle light.<br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQLGc4bBXNt-jhHs9isGA1eqtchStVEeYnYbzeptkolX7Se9CZUvjft9DKiDKsdqk5124tDbTEVjKJGf_O7nVHo0qe1ocLyeZDIfw3a3rhX-WynJCNMcbxfh2jVwauopwmU8ttuw/s1600-h/4.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5243609769003959154" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQLGc4bBXNt-jhHs9isGA1eqtchStVEeYnYbzeptkolX7Se9CZUvjft9DKiDKsdqk5124tDbTEVjKJGf_O7nVHo0qe1ocLyeZDIfw3a3rhX-WynJCNMcbxfh2jVwauopwmU8ttuw/s400/4.JPG" border="0" /></a>Then the skies opened up. Had a nice refreshing shower. Like I said, back to normal.<br /><div></div></div></div>The Reeds in the Windhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12861913317985600596noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12830202.post-72305750147452171152008-09-01T14:59:00.024+00:002008-09-01T17:57:42.542+00:00The Reeds on Three Continents<div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpvsgIQeLwcKXAHrhCUH42tG9lVIMQCnmM8Ed40U2bi56K-7_YT0mTZmkzIxkrHD00tQWPnNqslIzoE0owNMjRoyS7RQ4HJ2i_udvmM8Xj6pZ2_KUSRKvpg0fz3z68pSgTxVNzgQ/s1600-h/world1.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5241111984012326898" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpvsgIQeLwcKXAHrhCUH42tG9lVIMQCnmM8Ed40U2bi56K-7_YT0mTZmkzIxkrHD00tQWPnNqslIzoE0owNMjRoyS7RQ4HJ2i_udvmM8Xj6pZ2_KUSRKvpg0fz3z68pSgTxVNzgQ/s400/world1.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div align="left"><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:180%;color:#330033;">A Tale of Three Cities</span><br /></div><br /><br /><div align="left"><span style="color:#330033;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">Monday morning finds our family as spread out as far as we ever hope to be, although our kids aren’t even grown yet and then who knows what they’ll do. By Wednesday, after being separated for three months, and after me being out of Liberia for four weeks, we’ll finally be altogether in our West African home.<br /><br />Just where are we anyway? We are hanging out in very different places, different cities, and the contrasts are worth enjoying . Let’s do some comparing and contrasting of this triumvirate of metropoli. </span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcB1S5i_QcOZKNqj1cVy_-CFfpIbCXzwYAJGrXEVihDBTrrg2zWI5l0wfdGzqlVwMrT1-XeT_eulsmzIjJED8kHlkeh17zjKan7KIJDAfNTpaWp2Z_x80Ilpkbtt-NS8iu7CuZsw/s1600-h/mon+map.jpg"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5241068727891189458" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcB1S5i_QcOZKNqj1cVy_-CFfpIbCXzwYAJGrXEVihDBTrrg2zWI5l0wfdGzqlVwMrT1-XeT_eulsmzIjJED8kHlkeh17zjKan7KIJDAfNTpaWp2Z_x80Ilpkbtt-NS8iu7CuZsw/s200/mon+map.jpg" border="0" /></span></a><span style="font-family:verdana;"><br /><br /><strong>Renita— Monrovia Liberia</strong>, founded in 1822<br /><em>Population</em>: about a million. Located on the west coast of Africa. The Capital of Liberia. <em>City best known for:</em> Humidity, getting along without running water, sanitation, or electricity for sixteen years. <em>Contributions to world culture:</em> the handshake w/ finger snap. </span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvQwH_r5QU5alYPhbDR-KW1HyClcDz1Zs_TZTHN22ssu7EUYOPBDT5UROk4kQ5wUlNlA6J6Z1z23HlUgNU83d2-Cii0xwVC7nKEuYc3Xg0WRWEnoTMrWAkWHCJuuuKaT53h6GjSg/s1600-h/moncity51.jpg"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5241071657645408914" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvQwH_r5QU5alYPhbDR-KW1HyClcDz1Zs_TZTHN22ssu7EUYOPBDT5UROk4kQ5wUlNlA6J6Z1z23HlUgNU83d2-Cii0xwVC7nKEuYc3Xg0WRWEnoTMrWAkWHCJuuuKaT53h6GjSg/s200/moncity51.jpg" border="0" /></span></a><span style="font-family:verdana;"><em>Monrovia in History:</em> First woman African head of state ever elected, 2005. <em>Most famous landmark:</em> The gutted Masonic Temple. <em>Staple foods: </em>rice, cassava. <em>Favorite dishes:</em> palm butter, cassava greens, fish, chicken, red oil-- really, anything. </span></span></div><div align="center"><br /></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="color:#330033;"></div></span><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5241077560335145714" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh55fo-bEC_JaAb89BZp7XQot4Of3bflbRtiVAyylVNP9sIdhmbn_NLgS1_cp1Syt8HBIidarAi5bdKIxQF0j6auGtcn621tKtXDbqBmEzPukHG_LyvEU_I8JrfdhS1otCQmQF1nA/s400/mason2.JPG" border="0" /> </span><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">The Masonic Temple. Former mecca of all the Liberian Presidents, now home for displaced squatters.<br /></span></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /><p></span><span style="font-family:verdana;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5241077556236728370" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixoHopeQu9lyr7uwtTlLBdVb92VDju0wnzXYC0xppOgqFzR4ZbR33_SSc69eIb-xG3wN9ESg7bHpOjlVLDRkqDdILIhD7IVHggZqAZ-uWxxCOG_ygI4EuyY4WEFHKVNpUrRurrfA/s400/monfood6-742507.JPG" border="0" /></span><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">Liberian kids eating in the traditional group style. Looks like yellow peas. Where's the rice?</span></p><p align="left"><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;"><strong>Bob-- Brussels Belgium</strong> founded 979 </span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtd_7e5u5zaOnMYFBJws2sFwQQUN0IpGwZZl-Qd02HDsToeGGJBxDSOC-Jh4EE29QDM7jtbb-Y5D5OoZLLL6QbxDo8qw_8Jv-fOj0JenupflazmXLsGUxsI5ZKNxM7mt29zIZsDA/s1600-h/brumap1.jpg"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5241070711370592306" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtd_7e5u5zaOnMYFBJws2sFwQQUN0IpGwZZl-Qd02HDsToeGGJBxDSOC-Jh4EE29QDM7jtbb-Y5D5OoZLLL6QbxDo8qw_8Jv-fOj0JenupflazmXLsGUxsI5ZKNxM7mt29zIZsDA/s200/brumap1.jpg" border="0" /></span></a><span style="font-family:verdana;"><br /><em>Population:</em> about a million. Located in central Belgium. The Capital of Belgium. <em>City best known as </em>capital and economic hub of the European Union. Also HQ of NATO. <em>Contribution to world culture:</em> the French Fry, waffles, Brussel sprouts. <em>Brussels in History:</em> King Leopold II, father of the catastrophic African colonial movement. <em>Most </em></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLXS0TIFwsJfxFkvbydd2zpmw9MRcXdmiqDdLt_PtY9-2eTdabBjfFf52K3RrXSJxa9zX7x4OuaoRnIm3NQ1-Iqhn_15ybH5HCx1oHDZ6MtH03WtAcmoMlSkZMsLRnvsvNwr4l8Q/s1600-h/brussels2%5B1%5D.jpg"><em><span style="font-family:verdana;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5241071656589693730" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLXS0TIFwsJfxFkvbydd2zpmw9MRcXdmiqDdLt_PtY9-2eTdabBjfFf52K3RrXSJxa9zX7x4OuaoRnIm3NQ1-Iqhn_15ybH5HCx1oHDZ6MtH03WtAcmoMlSkZMsLRnvsvNwr4l8Q/s200/brussels2%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" /></span></em></a><span style="font-family:verdana;"><em>Famous Landmark:</em> the “Manneken Pis” or “Little Man Pee Pee” <em>Staple foods:</em> Beer, potatoes and bread. <em>Favorite Dishes:</em> Rabbit in Geuze (A sour beer), Stoemp, (potatoes mashed w/ vegetables, served w/ sausage) Chocolate desserts, pralines. </span></p><span style="font-family:verdana;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5241074648457792002" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-ZQLpgZthFYOzulGgirmECnReAOWcEORHPLmKI7spD-Ic0zZ8CBFfoQJULDfUVntR4BboO3Uy88cAKuD3e4F6b5qOKzU1gyxyG8v5_3KPNNe60IWj0cZcY4soIMtqkDrYe-s5Fw/s400/stoemp-with-saussages%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" /> </span><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">Stoemp with sausage, a Brussels classic. You mean I don't have to share?</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"></span><span style="font-family:verdana;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5241074956753571714" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjF8qFlx8_q7AgtK4LLCmMRe9nwPO7eQIRs6UpVJ88A9cxuSRVzl06ryOmiBn7u3B_dmzsh-5JSM2vfLhndjbgBWfZ_1jooHMXgRZcOrXhl0r8OwYE-4ljXc4e3l_vQjRkQEfp3nw/s400/1401_07_61---Manneken-Pis--Brussels--Belgium_web%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" /> <span style="font-size:85%;">The lil' guy has been standing here, peeing, for four hundred years.</span><br /><br /></span><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="color:#330033;"><strong><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5241074958719583170" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPgGvjTBd_guxu-0jAa1jeouhijf-wKIzjra5kmYUGbTa3x2a1YB6KTWDg3AJxgxfv7ypdmDAfNr6YRJK2cna3Dte96qFiwYH2i07Jn85jAr7px8VeztNjXA-TcXhzRNIw7m3AjQ/s400/brussels10.jpg" border="0" /></strong></span> </span><span style="color:#330033;"><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">Sometimes they dress him. Now he looks a guy on the side of the road in Liberia. Small world.</span></span></div><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#330033;"></span><div align="left"><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="color:#330033;"><strong>Hannah and Noah-- Grand</strong> <strong>Rapid Michigan </strong></span><span style="color:#330033;"><strong>USA</strong> </span><br /></span><span style="color:#330033;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">Founded officially 1850 </span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCoMibVkkk0kahIHR0vp9xIXo6PxFH5B3j4kcI46Iy9V0bEqjsr9nA8RWaQvYpaqo5ONG3f1J9AEJXN1fEq3MG_qS_u0pRTnhQkpsaSvUeJ4Z-Lkd5tXWb5T1k1HMnT0RItBLhuw/s1600-h/mich1.jpg"><strong><span style="font-family:verdana;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5241069909741002514" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCoMibVkkk0kahIHR0vp9xIXo6PxFH5B3j4kcI46Iy9V0bEqjsr9nA8RWaQvYpaqo5ONG3f1J9AEJXN1fEq3MG_qS_u0pRTnhQkpsaSvUeJ4Z-Lkd5tXWb5T1k1HMnT0RItBLhuw/s200/mich1.jpg" border="0" /></span></strong></a><span style="font-family:verdana;"><br /><em>Population:</em> About 200,000. Located in Western Michigan, Great Lakes region of USA. <em>City best known for:</em> its wealthy conservative Republican Christians, its liberal use of mulch, well maintained, clean curbs. <em>Contribution to world culture:</em> The furniture catalog, the Bissel carpet sweeper, Amway products. <em>Grand Rapids in History:</em> Long ago known world-wide for furniture—aka “the Paris of furniture design.</span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3CWJtHp1SJ8F1wWROZd-tsf0I3p71i6VepMep_1cxZ6iz76WLSWEtYL3gQqV9uCEL3SRLEIeupjBgeK5aW9UOxUmT__BeMhXPPBQmK-i_Atu0CuohkENjUlozv30U6_oYqKAbkg/s1600-h/downtown.jpg"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5241071667294557378" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3CWJtHp1SJ8F1wWROZd-tsf0I3p71i6VepMep_1cxZ6iz76WLSWEtYL3gQqV9uCEL3SRLEIeupjBgeK5aW9UOxUmT__BeMhXPPBQmK-i_Atu0CuohkENjUlozv30U6_oYqKAbkg/s200/downtown.jpg" border="0" /></span></a><span style="font-family:verdana;">” <em>Most Famous Landmark:</em> The Calder Sculpture. <em>Staple Foods:</em> Potatoes and spaghetti, ground beef. <em>Favorite dishes:</em> Kraft Mac and cheese (with ground beef), Spaghetti w/ Chunky Prego and Ground Beef, Chips n’ melted Velveeta cheese (w/ Ground Beef n’ Chi-Chi’s Salsa), pizza, hamburgers—really, anythin. Except Brussel sprouts. </span></span><br /></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5241075518454796962" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiL-_I3WbB-3Ts6sL5D0P2McpMrkGqWFrlZLoL0kOu2kOtEOszm4lJPYT9xQ3FGGyjqTjIi90UGJRC6dpDOulnKzUEY0svzfQuiW-wW2CSXaLm0P2QQMduRTqcCr-Hw__PtcQUnvA/s400/05hour_sculpture_650.jpg" border="0" /><span style="font-size:85%;"> The Famous Calder.</span><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5241083379273085010" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgk6zws1jqR_zfcO07O4iEmb6wLOtaNvrXmV15OLYXX9cqK4n4Bb7a7RnO64RV2BO5u3cBUktZ1vSAvAbx6ZFfP3ry7mJlAsZVgsSZQtmzMJbXytXt6WXLnS49O3gJGukJLOGSusA/s400/23701_alexander_calder%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" /><span style="font-size:85%;">The Original Famous Calder.</span><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5241075524337343954" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOlEMEmTk26WiL5ILCXPo3JWPIVlRsimdoKJXnxX1xAplKjKMOwp6fNFjLgU_zTMWeG0Bn6O6qg8_YgMAyE3k4gE47M5y4Qj2d71U7_o7D5Qn4Jk4WnU-4YRWOQkL8A9gMvaAHmg/s400/velveeta.JPG" border="0" /></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">Oh Velveeta! Oh Chi-Chi's Salsa! And don't forget that ground beef! One of Grand Rapid's many special dishes. </span></div>The Reeds in the Windhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12861913317985600596noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12830202.post-58536674718573791252008-08-28T18:30:00.024+00:002008-08-28T20:41:27.506+00:00<span style="color:#003300;"></span><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:180%;"><em><span style="color:#000099;">The Reeds in</span> <span style="color:#009900;">Italy</span></em></span></div><div align="center"><em><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:180%;color:#ffffff;">.</span></em></div><div align="center"><em><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:180%;color:#009900;"></span></em></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;color:#ff0000;">Part Three: Accidental Tourists</span></div><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#003300;">You know, this is a weird post for us. When we started this blog in 2005, we simply wanted to talk about what it was like to live according to the implications of the message of Jesus wherever those implications took us. We wanted nothing more than to "dance with the One what <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">brung</span></span> us" as we like to say. We certainly did not think we'd be posting travelogues or yapping about our lovely visit to some cultural Mecca. Not that there is anything <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">necessarily</span> wrong with that, but it's just not why we thought we came. </span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#003300;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#003300;">But here's where He <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">brung</span></span> us this week. And after Nigeria last week, and who knows where in the coming weeks, it only underscores what we have known for sometime: that the more one lays fear aside, lays aside excuses and justification for going partway-- the more one simply follows Him, the more abundant His promised abundant life becomes. Our journey has been nothing short of <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">wildly</span> unpredictable with every step. Sometimes we think we are walking on water.</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#003300;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#003300;">So this week, He brought us to Milan, Italy. And for three days, we got to be His guests. So here's a bit of Milan. </span><br /><br /><br /><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhL_m1zDH6XOnsGDBVEJb_1JsOxi-5_Bmv0eo_2BugJrD3ieVafbtPMHown1MQdRrH9UaAmPZ3vz1Zy2SlCi-Xb3krnY5XWe5k-uGtjNJOSLxA6l1pTOHKhlRceflohZpkmxrFHtA/s1600-h/1.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5239645259042071858" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhL_m1zDH6XOnsGDBVEJb_1JsOxi-5_Bmv0eo_2BugJrD3ieVafbtPMHown1MQdRrH9UaAmPZ3vz1Zy2SlCi-Xb3krnY5XWe5k-uGtjNJOSLxA6l1pTOHKhlRceflohZpkmxrFHtA/s400/1.jpg" border="0" /></a> <span style="font-size:85%;">These first three are of the famous <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Duomo</span></span> Plaza, from three angles. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Renita</span></span> is on the far left of this shot.<br /></span><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSeeXyQxygczvB4iL8-W5PYsV9hztoPDOsFzKo_CjFhgOwNxK89N2ExUJcr5Py8FkeXYvqfbuhB5xlCX7bS1dq6Eq1xy8bZOhyphenhyphenzTIL4SyBgTarqx1a1Rhz67vHJcyRV6bBD4boKg/s1600-h/2%5D.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5239645009956031026" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSeeXyQxygczvB4iL8-W5PYsV9hztoPDOsFzKo_CjFhgOwNxK89N2ExUJcr5Py8FkeXYvqfbuhB5xlCX7bS1dq6Eq1xy8bZOhyphenhyphenzTIL4SyBgTarqx1a1Rhz67vHJcyRV6bBD4boKg/s400/2%5D.jpg" border="0" /></a> <span style="font-size:85%;">This is from another angle, <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">actually</span> facing the other angle. The big arch is the entry to the shopping area-- the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">Duomo</span></span> cathedral is on the extreme right.<br /></span><br /><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6QfpS8OQ30xqjt1ZUqLgGmq9Tv-6q3IkV1iLE7pndOn4ZvuU37RYjBR05UzhA4oFxqDa8aYfZvYqCOa_IXjne9F942h6mw-PKj2y0fNOfe87ApspuNbI-CwHNpwuiqZKsBOY5tA/s1600-h/3.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5239644701233062802" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6QfpS8OQ30xqjt1ZUqLgGmq9Tv-6q3IkV1iLE7pndOn4ZvuU37RYjBR05UzhA4oFxqDa8aYfZvYqCOa_IXjne9F942h6mw-PKj2y0fNOfe87ApspuNbI-CwHNpwuiqZKsBOY5tA/s400/3.jpg" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;"> There it is. The cathedral is huge-- the third largest in the country.<br /></span><br /><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPYo-grubnSzDjPDkvw98m4e5MB1EGp5A-MpmmqFuV0X64KxA1THbSZytcBdbjsKP3kjs_PQrOTt0eDSA_ybneaN7kH8ycW3oUsr-aWnIG87IQ6fBoBdb5z8mhDESnRor5A2gleg/s1600-h/4.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5239644382970498370" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPYo-grubnSzDjPDkvw98m4e5MB1EGp5A-MpmmqFuV0X64KxA1THbSZytcBdbjsKP3kjs_PQrOTt0eDSA_ybneaN7kH8ycW3oUsr-aWnIG87IQ6fBoBdb5z8mhDESnRor5A2gleg/s400/4.JPG" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;"> The back of the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">Duomo</span></span>. Inspired and inspiring <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">gothic</span></span> architecture.</span><br /><br /><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEF9xjbEKjSsHnXlxU1nGEfjdiGsRqk7a2DK7Yso1Te65uEaHj-XtQUEbTfJrLVOu77YNlboMH1WQDkc35nWsYDUdukkyO92K5f5nzHVjaJm7ucL-p4cXMwgwAUrQft9hRvX7JoA/s1600-h/5.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5239644202358829714" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEF9xjbEKjSsHnXlxU1nGEfjdiGsRqk7a2DK7Yso1Te65uEaHj-XtQUEbTfJrLVOu77YNlboMH1WQDkc35nWsYDUdukkyO92K5f5nzHVjaJm7ucL-p4cXMwgwAUrQft9hRvX7JoA/s400/5.jpg" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;">Inside the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">Duomo</span></span>. Thousands of works of art, including over 3000 sculptures, and huge stained glass windows from the sixteenth century.<br /></span><br /><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZDyCtA9BO_IHrH-eVNgviGPJ2FwII0hPETlBm5S8yeGNYrfPbZBZ3mcoGNDAVgheYAH_q3jbDKAd8YDCq0aOAjMiVria-gqsJEZHFTxKoX576GHh9ihwxVwmSgTBgZNldIGZSEA/s1600-h/6.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5239643918027373426" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZDyCtA9BO_IHrH-eVNgviGPJ2FwII0hPETlBm5S8yeGNYrfPbZBZ3mcoGNDAVgheYAH_q3jbDKAd8YDCq0aOAjMiVria-gqsJEZHFTxKoX576GHh9ihwxVwmSgTBgZNldIGZSEA/s400/6.jpg" border="0" /></a> <span style="font-size:85%;">The stunning sculpture of St Bartholomew, one of the most moving I've ever seen. Tradition says he was flayed alive. So here he is, skinless, actually carrying his own skin as a reminder of his sacrifice. In the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">Duomo</span></span>.<br /></span><br /><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMtyw1X7t6PokbvdSD-8KzFv-p8QFJ5eEzwKHBXWVoBEWFHe_WiLsm3FTfLtinxW2MlW6Yxqnrad6FnH_1pkAQDC58nB_3uQA5C63-FFJqAWX5S8y114tLvS4QMqqXo4R4uANsWA/s1600-h/7.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5239643441640223538" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMtyw1X7t6PokbvdSD-8KzFv-p8QFJ5eEzwKHBXWVoBEWFHe_WiLsm3FTfLtinxW2MlW6Yxqnrad6FnH_1pkAQDC58nB_3uQA5C63-FFJqAWX5S8y114tLvS4QMqqXo4R4uANsWA/s400/7.JPG" border="0" /></a> <span style="font-size:85%;">The <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">Castello</span></span> of Milan...</span><br /><br /><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTyxdjb1CcOpbz6kCp5le2lA36Nc0lX_1FJHpHH7tALYRjhnE1XoATHfv2qhj6dEPVzpVfstJsNMNw828-mG3bN-6fKTH8Fq0a1AtRnAhBeERlYfoRMGPUv-Mj7iY3gpRhRt5wxg/s1600-h/8.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5239642991624348098" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTyxdjb1CcOpbz6kCp5le2lA36Nc0lX_1FJHpHH7tALYRjhnE1XoATHfv2qhj6dEPVzpVfstJsNMNw828-mG3bN-6fKTH8Fq0a1AtRnAhBeERlYfoRMGPUv-Mj7iY3gpRhRt5wxg/s400/8.jpg" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;"> ...A structure built in the 12<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">th</span></span> century. We couldn't stay long, but it was fascinating.</span><br /><br /><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBiCZI45iJqtpnQUvMBmJLsElXry2AgQklASgOJdqpkatAFc5Fv09r0sJyi1gyqs1SQ4JL6G7EH88DRQ0gzCG1vIdly6hFbleerzUIlhnyDkW7Lz-9VwFtCWvEGq5qlZh8gEGINA/s1600-h/9.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5239640301416471570" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBiCZI45iJqtpnQUvMBmJLsElXry2AgQklASgOJdqpkatAFc5Fv09r0sJyi1gyqs1SQ4JL6G7EH88DRQ0gzCG1vIdly6hFbleerzUIlhnyDkW7Lz-9VwFtCWvEGq5qlZh8gEGINA/s400/9.JPG" border="0" /></a> <span style="font-size:85%;">The Convent of Santa Maria <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12">delle</span></span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13">Grazie</span></span>-- the home of Leonardo <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14">Da</span></span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15">Vinci's</span></span> </span><em><span style="font-size:85%;">The Last Supper.</span><br /></em><br /><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizQoU88-VCHL0iCLrYwxJQnglrR1y8q_LvmKS0ZHFMa_WTXAEr-tNL8h_Tg2JI3rnILPZRl3pMZM0tE4tRx5huWv2El9rBjH9P6O5hklzNDilH-Dleix7fdYXw59-wcnfnwprejg/s1600-h/10.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5239639919430219842" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizQoU88-VCHL0iCLrYwxJQnglrR1y8q_LvmKS0ZHFMa_WTXAEr-tNL8h_Tg2JI3rnILPZRl3pMZM0tE4tRx5huWv2El9rBjH9P6O5hklzNDilH-Dleix7fdYXw59-wcnfnwprejg/s400/10.jpg" border="0" /></a> <span style="font-size:85%;">It was painted above the kitchen door in the <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17">monastery</span>. It is a piece that struck us with its majesty and power. Even though much of it has been lost through age, it is gripping to behold.<br /></span><br /><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCU-Yf2u1_y9TpM6jMZ8vXheq3wRjIDmWdwZOPq_LhmhBZQcAWZwAnbwYuRHd2Y9GAy_4Eyep3Vh0QzBpkP4XnU4XSU5qKlf1xnoTjpWQ2odGw0sDWO1llwfXPy7Y5-5QGuAil9Q/s1600-h/11.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5239639664290707714" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCU-Yf2u1_y9TpM6jMZ8vXheq3wRjIDmWdwZOPq_LhmhBZQcAWZwAnbwYuRHd2Y9GAy_4Eyep3Vh0QzBpkP4XnU4XSU5qKlf1xnoTjpWQ2odGw0sDWO1llwfXPy7Y5-5QGuAil9Q/s400/11.jpg" border="0" /></a> <span style="font-size:85%;">A close up pf how it looks on the wall. As bad as it looks in this picture, it looks better on that wall like it is, than any doctored <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18">rendition</span> I've ever seen.<br /></span><br /><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYUAIFc6N5Q-P5gOYDuxS9RbC7Tm6e47j8MTO59aUAYjVtnhXjDuFC1owbpVp6XPVnB6tvSV1ehlsf0tmKHnHYx7qLo-Sq-7XSoVVEyA6zeZSSqX5zlfckPU72fNAhgby5HGWWJg/s1600-h/12.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5239638799905700258" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYUAIFc6N5Q-P5gOYDuxS9RbC7Tm6e47j8MTO59aUAYjVtnhXjDuFC1owbpVp6XPVnB6tvSV1ehlsf0tmKHnHYx7qLo-Sq-7XSoVVEyA6zeZSSqX5zlfckPU72fNAhgby5HGWWJg/s400/12.JPG" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;">Finally, on Thursday, we visited the canals. Milan used to be filled with canals, a bit like Venice, although not on the sea. But they filled most of them in now, except a few. This is a typically quaint <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19">restaurant</span> just along side the canal off camera to the right.</span><br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5239638640461059986" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7lVggmvIAG94QndyLuE5x_bcKBJ1mElJCCgnytPj8WQ8_JzdHejfKOu_I7J8ASdwCrLzVVHIURONGNJPAcuqhYUni59nmTbcT-IQxA6-xWogfVoaRSErlf9XmiJALNa0737pOCA/s400/13.JPG" border="0" /><span style="font-size:85%;">He ya go. Actually, they are planning to bring more of the canals back, for tourist purposes. Milan is a world fashion capital, but lags behind several Italian cities in tourists. Thanks to a curve ball throwing God, they got two more this week.</span><br /><div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div>The Reeds in the Windhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12861913317985600596noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12830202.post-63902920531263649432008-08-26T16:17:00.019+00:002008-08-28T20:16:50.901+00:00<div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong><em><span style="font-size:180%;"><span style="color:#000099;">The Reeds in</span> <span style="color:#006600;">Italy</span></span></em><span style="color:#006600;"> </span></strong></span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ff0000;"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;">Part Two: Rounding Up the Unusual Suspects</span> </span></div><div align="center"><strong><span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ffffff;">.</span></strong></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5238883292041548178" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 205px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 68px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="103" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiviGj2eVc6eGsWf2DFjLGyeB2PjDav5aPv74SU4SLRCxHk0wXMVHnlC8JT-bKUeVIS-dP9FORdNqg0fZ4-fOUYgwQ2MRQNnIBYlJE9slYEopDWesmZ4SddFyApyt_dnvVgU-77Uw/s400/Publication1.jpg" width="324" border="0" /><br /><div align="left"><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#006600;">On Monday the tests continued at Instituto Clinico Humanitas. More Doplers, another CT Scan, an MRI, an EEG, another EKG, a heart ultra sound, a urine test, more blood tests, yadda yadda. But the evidence was mounting. With every test, TIAs or “mini-strokes” were looking less and less likely causes of my difficulty speaking, vision problems, and partial numbness. My blood pressure was an acceptable 130/90, my veins and arteries in great shape and clear, my brain waves normal, my blood work all normal (a bit low on the “good cholesterol,” but otherwise a-ok.) There is almost no history of stroke or diabetes in my family. It was just impossible to rule any other way, and our neurologist predicted it on Saturday. These were not TIAs. They doctors told me they were all surprised. They said they took one look at me and assumed I was a stroke, heart attack or diabetes case just waiting to happen. “He’s fat, he must be unhealthy- “ which is a prejudice with a long and cherished history among the uninformed. But the Docs admitted their bias, and patted me on the back for fooling them. Of course, they said, “It would still be good to lose weight.” Thanks doc. Exercise too, right? Meanwhile, what’s going on with these episodes? It was a process of elimination, a process of “ruling out” as health professionals say. When the most obvious suspects are ruled out—vascular disease, evidence of stroke, hypertension, poor blood chemistry—you look for the unusual suspect. And again, the neurologist had her eye on the right bad guy.<br /><br />They were migraines. And that came out of left field because I’d never had them before. Mine were the less common type called a migraine “with aura.” The speech, visual and sensory disruptions were all part of the profile, and the fact that a severe headache followed each episode was the key. So just like that, the mystery was over. And not the mystery only: my fear of impending doom was over. I was suddenly being informed that I am healthier than most really fat guys have any right to expect to be. It was a nice moment.<br /><br />So there ya go. Our little adventure, taking us out of Africa to Italy is drawing to a close. Soon, its back to Liberia to solve yet another mystery, maybe even bigger than this one—how is this chapter in Liberia going to close, and what chapter will be waiting on the other side of the page. But, that can hold off a few days, can’t it? Yes it can, because, after all…<br /><span style="font-family:lucida grande;"><br /></span><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:180%;"><em>… Milano awaits!</em></span></span></div><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ff0000;">Next Time-- <em>The Reeds in <span style="color:#006600;">Italy,</span> Part Three: Accidental Tourists</em></span><br /><br /><div align="left"><span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#006600;"></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCJCSG4e3geyMeg955keFwl0ynM81Wc0WWTWVCsafSprP5rvJu4Ia9M2-otyPm0imaccWdtZlt7-io636DVwmi_W6bOUIU2l1PUz3rmMKbSTFCx1T1ZEg2aLvWB5LxA3uunTVsgQ/s1600-h/1.jpg"></div></a><span style="font-size:85%;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5238869051818041762" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCJCSG4e3geyMeg955keFwl0ynM81Wc0WWTWVCsafSprP5rvJu4Ia9M2-otyPm0imaccWdtZlt7-io636DVwmi_W6bOUIU2l1PUz3rmMKbSTFCx1T1ZEg2aLvWB5LxA3uunTVsgQ/s400/1.jpg" border="0" /></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCJCSG4e3geyMeg955keFwl0ynM81Wc0WWTWVCsafSprP5rvJu4Ia9M2-otyPm0imaccWdtZlt7-io636DVwmi_W6bOUIU2l1PUz3rmMKbSTFCx1T1ZEg2aLvWB5LxA3uunTVsgQ/s1600-h/1.jpg"> <p align="center"></a><span style="font-size:85%;">Getting ready to climb into the CT scan earlier Monday morn. Philip getting ready to make me feel weird.</span></p><p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhI_c6DyCr9ZHWRbIF_AZav7K42hS385tqM7HZdO5VLHQYmYw6mDTohHjW62sH9VaHFmQOEkxoNjVDDMACIep9fsfV4gB_kZJo8-VmS0PW5Q7OVU5GJe3tzBJx7RyxBreV5-FL8UQ/s1600-h/2.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5238868899246360018" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhI_c6DyCr9ZHWRbIF_AZav7K42hS385tqM7HZdO5VLHQYmYw6mDTohHjW62sH9VaHFmQOEkxoNjVDDMACIep9fsfV4gB_kZJo8-VmS0PW5Q7OVU5GJe3tzBJx7RyxBreV5-FL8UQ/s400/2.JPG" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;"> This is a CT cross scan of my bod. Not sure of all the organs we're lookin' at-- knowing its my guts is enough, no?</span><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZ_LCQUZ0DPlISRXenobIjyUjhF2qkWD9C1HO6hybFHdJF_5aK7BTc7tUK5wtkbJphhXLkmvs0fZrNBq2SfejOhv0SbHtJ37461zq3afz1WjdSIRe2SVWMNPaxWnJ24MUay9AmYQ/s1600-h/Modern_3T_MRI%5B1%5D.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5238867349801913986" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZ_LCQUZ0DPlISRXenobIjyUjhF2qkWD9C1HO6hybFHdJF_5aK7BTc7tUK5wtkbJphhXLkmvs0fZrNBq2SfejOhv0SbHtJ37461zq3afz1WjdSIRe2SVWMNPaxWnJ24MUay9AmYQ/s400/Modern_3T_MRI%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;">The MRI. I go in there. I come out a changed man.<br /></span><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5238867372296841106" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjki_2xObD0orQsRehIL0syUoA4roe7m6AeD_PhD2T5Ipn9H0RXDZGfnrCg4YMTIjiCv62J3vO2LWmkR5QQ_Ccb-_Jw-635zWG19txA5pMobq5fQ1TZQoTiKtXcfZFWSIAfBBWj0g/s400/4.JPG" border="0" /><span style="font-size:85%;">Nurse Roberta takes my blood pressure, this for the 20th time in five days over a couple thousand miles.<br /></span><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5nj8mXYeP3e6XE81ATDBrgt4Z-ok5C5WNGWaC1jjg_ArpxgWwenn0cYSEVJHv3gtmiF7xRoSFtHJ3MchJ5eOeN9gHWDmNUty-cbReS88s_kPyZPnEK7e0NvjDZ8rXSDn6KidGYQ/s1600-h/5.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5238864772337012178" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5nj8mXYeP3e6XE81ATDBrgt4Z-ok5C5WNGWaC1jjg_ArpxgWwenn0cYSEVJHv3gtmiF7xRoSFtHJ3MchJ5eOeN9gHWDmNUty-cbReS88s_kPyZPnEK7e0NvjDZ8rXSDn6KidGYQ/s400/5.JPG" border="0" /></a> <span style="font-size:85%;">The endocrinologists tells me he's not going to tell me to lose weight. Thanks.</span><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjO4SKCFBAKwHI1xzSan6oKxkdeZFD-cTuqL9GZl4hl9L269jnpdfBgTIj2dME0gdgz1t1b4Sk1jYoJvivXZJWgSji_TG7wFhl27Em2wy7c7L6bpPUNReRI6l7w5D6aK-RKvgciqw/s1600-h/6.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5238862745739083042" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjO4SKCFBAKwHI1xzSan6oKxkdeZFD-cTuqL9GZl4hl9L269jnpdfBgTIj2dME0gdgz1t1b4Sk1jYoJvivXZJWgSji_TG7wFhl27Em2wy7c7L6bpPUNReRI6l7w5D6aK-RKvgciqw/s400/6.JPG" border="0" /></a> <span style="font-size:85%;">The head of the department, left, and the Dr. who followed me through from the initial ambulance ride, Antonio Voza, tell me I can go home.</span><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZw3QIj2NaEGgoGbZf65Vru1rqShndotqtjkY6MxG-MPAwgnMn1cazYndFyyM6a5xwWZ_gYBRRWn_su0S1yLxiMLHdvwkKPJc_KSrP9AsTsKPxBMr3ZNIWWo4fWioHugk4BfjwLQ/s1600-h/7.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5238862762998865170" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZw3QIj2NaEGgoGbZf65Vru1rqShndotqtjkY6MxG-MPAwgnMn1cazYndFyyM6a5xwWZ_gYBRRWn_su0S1yLxiMLHdvwkKPJc_KSrP9AsTsKPxBMr3ZNIWWo4fWioHugk4BfjwLQ/s400/7.JPG" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;">Before I leave, two more things. First lunch for two, an italian feast-- now that's hospiital food!</span><br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5238875269892618226" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9wtK7Lei8wlDKpUbPSpQXtpxZDCMKLYbHHq5INF_g2bhIGbumY_3y8-dZG2dhr_vNqSbC5_uVCuv1k-gHcT5Jd3QlJJU4EOMzFxHwBnvoEYvTEloHwBMlJya85nxiVS_VmLR8jA/s400/IMG_7803.JPG" border="0" /><span style="font-size:85%;">And Roberta gets to yank out the multi valved, tinker-toy like structure that's been stuck an inch into my arm for three days. I still feel that pull. Note she's smiling, the sadist.</span><br /><br /></p>The Reeds in the Windhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12861913317985600596noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12830202.post-60439239431538250102008-08-25T10:14:00.009+00:002008-08-25T15:32:52.885+00:00Now, for Something Completely Different<div align="center"><em><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong><span style="font-size:180%;"><span style="color:#000066;">The Reeds in </span><span style="color:#006600;">Italy</span></span></strong></span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:180%;color:#006600;"><strong><br /></strong></span></em><strong><span style="color:#ff0000;"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">Part One: The Attack of the Transient</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Ischemics</span></span></span></strong></div><br /><div align="left"><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#003300;"></span></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5238425549057546962" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUTVikKske8BhasdJSkDKyMRaVndNLn3Rh9FWT93fJuomOySscJUiIqghyKy4-WFOBgAk2Uo5N2bwRsHA4gR3QryKgwp0-9ebCW5r3PYevvQCM0KR72qELISo9UHCigUOVlTDsgQ/s400/itcolor.jpg" border="0" /><br /><div align="left"><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#003300;">Well folks, the last we chatted was two weeks ago, as Renita and I were just setting foot in Nigeria and planning for a time of learning and evaluation from our colleagues in the central plateau city of <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Jos</span>. Then last week, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Renita</span> returned to Liberia and took up blog duty, and I planned on attending a conference on good governance sponsored by the Micah Network. However on Sunday afternoon (the 17<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">th</span>), I experienced something completely unlike anything I ever had before. It was one of the weirdest trips I’<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">ve</span> ever been on, and I’<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">ve</span> been on a few. While munching on some nuts and talking with a friend, I began to notice I was stuttering. Buy the time 30 seconds had passed, I not only could not pronounce certain words, but I could not even figure out what word was supposed to go where. Even if I could figure out the word, I could not say it. When I attempted to spell, I <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">couldn</span>’t imagine the letters. It was fascinating. I thought I’d eaten some bad peanuts. I also suddenly had a bad headache. I called <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">Renita</span> and after doing some research, she said what I had sounded like a TIA. (Transient <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">Ischemic</span> Attack)<br /><br />Called “mini-strokes,” <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">TIAs</span> occur when blood in the neck or head is blocked from reaching a portion of the brain. A TIA can affect several different functions, and with me it started with my speech, but on Monday I had a severe headache and my vision was affected, on Tuesday I had another episode with inability speak, on Wednesday my left hand and left side of my face and even tongue (Now that’s weird!) went numb, and by this time the doctors in <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">Jos</span> were insisting on an “emergency evacuation” to a hi tech hospital before I blew a major gasket. Everyone was now certain these were <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">TIAs</span>, and the stroke clock was ticking. The trusty American Heart Association warns us to treat suspected <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12">TIAs</span> like stokes and that many people who get <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13">TIAs</span> go on to have a major stroke within a year. So I was more than willing to get to a hospital with the most modern facilities. But where? Where would our brand new insurance company send me?<br /><br /><em><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14">Buongiorno</span>!</em> On Wednesday I was told I’d be <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15">Medivacced</span> (<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16">sp</span>?) out of Africa to the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17">Istituto</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18">Clinico</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19">Humanitas</span> in romantic Milan Italy the next morning. Of course I'd rather go to Michigan, but Milan would do. I was ready. But the next morning came, then the day came--and went, and I was told the emergency would have to wait another day. Friday morning came and went, and finally around 1:00pm we got off the ground in our personal-sized jet. We were supposed to be in Milan around 6:00pm, but due to two refueling delays, we did not arrive until midnight. I had a great time onboard with the Kenyan medical staff and English pilots. Real characters. I kept telling them that, with all the delays, “It’s a good thing nobody’s sick.”<br /><br />And really, I <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20">wasn</span>’t. My symptoms had subsided, and with my recent back pain gone after two months of killing me, I felt better that I had in months. As soon as I got to the hospital, they drew blood and put me into a CT scan. They immediately determined there was “no current emergency” and at 1:30am I was wheel-chaired to my room. After a few hours of sleep, the tests continued—more <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21">BP</span>, EKG, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22">Dopler</span>/vein artery test, then I met the head of the department, watched the Olympics in Italian, and rejoiced at 2:00pm as my lovely wife appeared at my doorway. And joy of joys, the hospital staff said she could stay with me while I’m here. Conjugal visits! Finally, to top off our first day, a little later we met with my neurologist, and after a very nice and relieving chat, she ended our conversation by deepening the mystery of these strange episodes—<em>she doubts they were <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_23">TIAs</span> at all.<br /></em><br />Next Time-- The Reeds in Italy Part Two: Rounding Up the Unusual Suspects</span></div><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5238397150841809362" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjChSbPpJrLqFPED0c1a3wfGq3M2DDFJa0tWtfxF1IqghkPu9jzyyYzeECjqcI9fB3ULbPOokmwf70b-9p1O9gknswg58c_e7Un0glX27VrwxWYzXyBIU7wxkUxXz73m2vlQ_XTGA/s400/1.JPG" border="0" /><br /><p align="center"><span style="font-size:85%;">In the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_24">medivac</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_25">jet</span> - here Larry our pilot self <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_26">administers</span> a sobriety test under the supervision of Joseph the doctor. He was too drunk to tell if he passed.</span></p><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPXQ-9HUyjnTo6d3-ty02joFSkfNNhAkDxm222u-0fH6s2nj821YmEgUdMSQw6FWZ3KVFAFX08mnu9bd17MvsP9YaWGlPfXX7h5-NjPN0fKzZ2nI5TDaXIWk0UjR9HVeOf5-1yzQ/s1600-h/2.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5238397151290124914" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPXQ-9HUyjnTo6d3-ty02joFSkfNNhAkDxm222u-0fH6s2nj821YmEgUdMSQw6FWZ3KVFAFX08mnu9bd17MvsP9YaWGlPfXX7h5-NjPN0fKzZ2nI5TDaXIWk0UjR9HVeOf5-1yzQ/s400/2.JPG" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;">James, my Kenyan nurse, takes the stretcher while I support him from the chair.</span><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCvXe8kWbME__6sTyb2jSo3LlyBta1CV7WER2cce7XjU0R2S4wErmY0hSxtfBz381IbPc1acXyEnzw_x9H_X3tjla6fRafNdkp26XyvrjCXoTl7PS7XqwAgj1nGR7yk66JPBV5aA/s1600-h/3.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5238396996464987010" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCvXe8kWbME__6sTyb2jSo3LlyBta1CV7WER2cce7XjU0R2S4wErmY0hSxtfBz381IbPc1acXyEnzw_x9H_X3tjla6fRafNdkp26XyvrjCXoTl7PS7XqwAgj1nGR7yk66JPBV5aA/s400/3.JPG" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;"> The ambulance took us to the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_27">Instituto</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_28">Clinco</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_29">Humanitas</span>, where I was met by this guy. No additional comment necessary.</span><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioKJC8WMlkLwZwxiR4z4xKZVDshiFxUnfQA0K6Iyj63rc5RdhD0wFZyk3qF4cdVJ0KpWpiUYGuG0afiDXUI-LYDOosOBxp0JGites7buNvPKd65gFr1it2TBpkYEEPV7klbvmzKw/s1600-h/4.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5238396999471088642" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioKJC8WMlkLwZwxiR4z4xKZVDshiFxUnfQA0K6Iyj63rc5RdhD0wFZyk3qF4cdVJ0KpWpiUYGuG0afiDXUI-LYDOosOBxp0JGites7buNvPKd65gFr1it2TBpkYEEPV7klbvmzKw/s400/4.JPG" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;"> And this lady. A little camera shy, but definitely not shy with needles. She wheeled me up to my room...</span><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQIxj9MIyjpch7AuS-MRQDxiVDuvM9Z5rZuGdAcJZPWdCTDR6usEqqjJodEa5KjiptKEo35vAsD2mOuomutr7NCUtdKtTRGeKVHruDP22_cyv7_zA3Gie8tc2sn2YIbIHYqrAncg/s1600-h/5.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5238396840269068946" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQIxj9MIyjpch7AuS-MRQDxiVDuvM9Z5rZuGdAcJZPWdCTDR6usEqqjJodEa5KjiptKEo35vAsD2mOuomutr7NCUtdKtTRGeKVHruDP22_cyv7_zA3Gie8tc2sn2YIbIHYqrAncg/s400/5.JPG" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;">...where the next day <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_30">Renita</span> joined me, exhausted, after a long flight and a longer week.</span> </div><div align="center"><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwHkZw-pejmIYZgWxiOiwLXpf5DaUGcKg8pEqJdSIKFJRToS2bZmgUyER0_YgcXMZ-YnuwewOvcL8dAxfJa5bHSwg1kFvdXUtFluOPiXS7-h9wDZSh0nwnJnqZdsyxqTJekZFF4w/s1600-h/6.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5238396843202017202" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwHkZw-pejmIYZgWxiOiwLXpf5DaUGcKg8pEqJdSIKFJRToS2bZmgUyER0_YgcXMZ-YnuwewOvcL8dAxfJa5bHSwg1kFvdXUtFluOPiXS7-h9wDZSh0nwnJnqZdsyxqTJekZFF4w/s400/6.JPG" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;"> One building (mine) of the huge <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_31">Instituto</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_32">Clinico</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_33">Humanitas</span> complex, a truly world-class teaching hospital. If they can't figure me out here, it ain't gonna happen anywhere.</span> </div>The Reeds in the Windhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12861913317985600596noreply@blogger.com2