We Interrupt this Blog for A Cute Moment

The other day I was returning from Mother Patern College, after a long day of writing, planning for the upcoming BSW program and teaching, when I got a call from Renita. "It looks like we have another pet," she said. "Yeh," I asked, unimpressed, "what is it?" Renita said, "I don't know. It looks like an armadillo. Some neighbor boys brought it. You'll have to see it yourself." Neighbor boys are always bringing us birds or beasts to show us, sell to us, or get us to adopt.

I got home, and she pointed to a ball of gray-brown scales half-buried in the sand by the house. "Its some kind of anteater," offered Noah. Reading my mind as I tentatively reached for it, he added, "It has no teeth. It can't bite." I pulled it up out of the sand.

I had no idea what this thing was, but I certainly knew it was about the cutest thing I ever saw. And I'm not usually a big fan of cute. In fact, I almost never use the word, except when being satirical or sarcastic. But this lil' guy was in a category by himself.

After doing some research, this is what we know. It (actually we think he) is a pangolin, (manis tricuspis), not related to the armadillo or the anteater. There are apparently seven varieties of this creature in the world, and while not endangered in Africa, they are in other parts of the world where they are hunted for their scales-- supposed to have healing powers. There are several sites online that discuss the creature, so go to Google, type in pangolin, and read about her yourself.

The pangolin is fascinating -- and he seems to like humans. Being nocturnal, he is out at night, looking for bugs in the trees, but each morning he finds his way to our house, climbs our kitchen stairs and we find him curled in a ball at our kitchen door. We try carrying him back out, but he lumbers back, so take him in, wrap him in a blanket, and he sleeps. Later we take him out and sometimes he returns in his sloth-like way, and sometimes he stays out, but always he is at our door in the morning. We believe this one is an infant, because he is not eating ants and only takes milk.

There is no doubt we must return him to the bush. As sweet and cuddly as this thing is, pangolins have a very specialized diet and do not live long in captivity. Even zoos have a hard time keeping them alive. So even though we'd like to keep him, but once he starts eating bugs, we'll return him and hope he makes it. We just wanted you to see him.

Class, Mammalia; Order, Pholidota; Family, Manidae. Common names: Three cusped pangolin, tree pangolin, white bellied pangolin. Locally called scaly anteater or ant bear.

ReedNews Update

The Reeds are back in Liberia after the closest thing to a perfect break my brain can conjure. The best vacations refresh me in a way that actually makes me look forward to returning to the familiar. And it is good to be back, humidity and all. People ask me how I’ve adjusted to the humidity and I usually say my mind and emotions have adjusted, but my body never will. In other words, upon returning, I still find myself dripping with sweat most days, but I don’t care any more, and sometimes don’t notice it.

Weather Update: Speaking of moisture in the air, the months just leading to the rainiest months of July-September are the most humid. The temps climb because true summer is coming, but we experience occasional brief afternoon rains, followed by sun that leave us sweltering. The water table is very low, so we are hoping for more substantial rains soon for our wells. Now on to the news.

Item: Liberia as a nation continues to move, ever so slowly, toward health. The President says there is more money in the national treasury due to her campaign against corruption. Other examples: After earlier this year receiving significant debt cancellations from the US, China and Japan, and after UN Timber restrictions were lifted, last week the UN lifted its restrictions on Liberia's diamond trade. Police rarely try to extort money from us, and airport personnel actually help us get through the terminal without trying to squeeze us. Rogue activity is down—but still an issue. My theory is that as the Liberia heals, the culture becomes less tolerant of armed violence. Before, it was almost expected, and “What can we do anyway?” Now, it is seen as inexcusable, and neighborhoods are mobilizing to stop it.

Item: We are seeing signs of Liberians returning home with confidence. Everywhere we travel around Monrovia, we see new cement block homes going up. Thousands of new homes are in process. We are getting some pictures of all the work, so look for these images before June. The acres upon acres of construction are a striking symbol of hope for a stable future.

Item: The third-- correction-- fourth LEAD class graduates Thursday, and Renita is working with LEAD to land the UNDP grant we’ve discussed earlier. Plus, LEAD just received a welcomed grant a few weeks ago from a Grand Rapids foundation.

Item: I’ll be in Johnson Town two days this week discussing personal and family issues with the residents.

Item: Neighbors in the Foster Town area have joined forces with Lifewater Liberia to build seven new wells in various neighborhoods. Lifewater tells us they will start in June.

Item: The new market is stalled, in part due to a lack of funds, but also due to the mistrust that seems epidemic here, especially between Liberians. The building is about 75% completed, with some zinc for a roof. The entire structure needs to be covered by the coming of the heavy rains; otherwise the non treated wood poles will spoil. This is an important moment of truth for the Foster Town community and FoCDA. But we believe they will find a way.

Item: Around home, we have fewer animals again. Bandit was killed just before we left for The Gambia after somehow getting caught under the car as Renita was slowly driving in one day. Jackie killed and ate a couple small chickens just before we returned, and it looks like she will need to be put down soon. Not because of the chickens, but she has a congenital problem that keeps her from keeping any food down. She is slowly starving to death—which is probably why she went after the chickens in the first place. On the other hand, her brother Max is becoming huge.

I promised you more pictures of The Gambia, and even though we are fully back in Liberia, here you go.

When we last posted, we were walking through a local park, looking for flora and fauna. these are Vervet monkeys (Cercopithecus aethiops).

Hornbills hanging around in the bush.

These palms were monsters. Note the normal sized palm on the lower right, about 20 feet tall.

On another day, just walking around the countryside. I like trees.

I looked up into this tree and I beheld Green.

On to the beach. Three hooded vultures eating a cuttlefish.

A birthday gift for Hannah-- horseriding on a Gambian beach.

Noah joined in for a gallop.

In late afternoon by the silver ocean, Gambian youth play soccer.

So long from the cool breezes of the Gambia. Now back to work!

The Reeds in The Gambia

Weather: Partly cloudy. Temps in the lo 70's during the evening, lo 90's during the day. Low humidity. Winds out of the west at 30mph.


We'll be in The Gambia until Friday May 4. So as we travel about, we'll try to get you some images. We hope to get off the beach, or out of the pool, and into the countryside soon. Until then, here are a few shots from around our hotel. Oh, and HAPPY 14th BIRTHDAY HANNAH!!! (And uncle Dale's 60th, of course!)

UPDATE WEDNESDAY, MAY 2
The internet here at the hotel is not too reliable nor fast, so unfortunately the new images we hoped to get you by now do not seem forthcoming. It could also be a Blogger issue, but I think not. We've got about ten pictures we wanted to upload, with nice shots of birds and countryside. Anyway, we are enjoying our last few days in The Gambia. We'll be leaving early Friday morning for Liberia, with a lot of preparation and loose ends to tie up before our trip to the US in June. It has been wonderful visiting this place, and also seeing some of The Gambia beyond resort life. Maybe we'll get those pics up soon.

A Panorama view out of our hotel door. It's better than it looks.


Looking back toward that same door from the beach at sunup.


The other night we saw Hannah on the patio below us, just standing there, absorbing the healing winds. She stood there like this for a half hour. Groovy, man.

Tuesday night's sunset.

Yesterday, on a stroll through a local park, we were joined by a family of monkeys.

The Fam looking out for more monkeys. Stay tuned for more pics when Blogger is feeling better.

Back to The Gambia

It is impossible to convey the sense and sensation of rejuvenation that revisiting The Gambia brings. We are here for two weeks, ostensibly to attend a spiritual retreat for folks from Christian Reformed World Relief Committee and Christian Reformed World Missions. The retreat lasts from April 26 to May 1, and we are staying a few days extra before and after. This extra time in particular is as close to heavenly as we have experienced in a long time. The bliss is due in part to fairly logical reasons familiar to all vacationers: we are free from our regular but busy workload, we are particularly tired from a couple months of extra duty, and we are in a different location. But there is more: running water means no hauling it from a well everyday, and feeling clean for the first time in a year from real cascading hot showers, and Gambian temperatures that are ten degrees cooler, a view that is from a postcard, and then there is the breeze.

I must pause here for effect.

The Atlantic Ocean wind off of The Gambia is like the Balm of Gilead. It is steady, cool and refreshing every minute of the day. Our hosts tell us it never stops, and probably averages 20 miles an hour all day, but from about 5pm until morning, it averages 30 miles an hour. Coming from the colossal heat, humidity, and relative stillness of Liberian air, the breeze exhilarates and heals.

I ain’t kiddin’. These zephyrs do not simply waft over the body, they massage the soul. They carry our anxieties and tension away with them as they pass.

So, now I’m thinking only those privileged to work in a climate like Liberia get to experience the breeze like we do. Which in a weird and ironic way makes me appreciate Liberia more. There is a metaphor in there somewhere, but I’m grokking the moment too much to pursue it.

Anyway, we arrived very late Friday and have relished each hour of our three days here so far. We’ve got a few pictures, but Blogger once again is only allowing this map. Check back later.

The Gambia-- a country within a country. We are just a little south of Bakau, west of the capital Banjul.

Dante Venegas: A Laughing Warrior Passes

He was a Puerto Rican and proud of it, even though most folks thought he was African American. His laugh came from deep within and making him laugh felt so good I found myself saying crazy things just to get him going. A long time ago he lived in the mean streets of New York, and talked it, but settled down in suburbs of Grand Rapids, and I think endured it. As a pastor, he confused and vexed some of the very white, upper middle class members of his audience with a directness that cut through the crap of American Evangelicalism and made living with Christ gritty and in your face. As a counselor, he brought reality and hope to the broken and lost and searching. He loved God passionately, and reveled in every minute of life as if it was God’s very breath. He spoke with passion, taught with passion, complained (and sometimes swore) with passion, dispensed wisdom with passion, and with passion changed the hearts of thousands. Dante Venegas was as real as humans get.

A few years ago, he was diagnosed with cancer, and a few days ago, he died. During the last year he suffered enormous pain and refused to bow before it. His wife Jackie and family passed along updates regularly, and it was clear the man was embracing life even in midst of incredible agony. I could not visit him of course, but I wonder if he would have thought of himself as dying— it was as if he was living the reality of his cancer as he lived everything else—in our faces.

In the mid nineties, Pope John Paul II issued a brilliant encyclical called “The Culture of Death,” in which he blasted the West for avoiding suffering even at the expense of life—God’s greatest gift. Suffering, John Paul said, was viewed by the West only as an evil, possessing no value. Abortion, euthanasia, drug abuse, escapism, and the American obsession with security and comfort, are all products of the Culture of Death. When John Paul died after a long and painful illness, he showed the world that life is greater than suffering, that suffering is an important part of living, and both ought to be lived fully. Dante Venegas did that too. He loved life, lived passionately, and I think he died passionately. He fought with life and he fought with suffering and in doing so, he showed us a better way.

Hold on now in your suffering, dear Jackie. You—and the rest of us who loved him-- will hear his laugh again soon.

He is as wise and good and faithful as the setting African sun, and His promises as are as endless as the sky.

Kakata

Weather: After two days of heavy overcast and temps in the upper 70s, today was clear, with relatively low humidity for Liberia, and temps in the upper 90s. Light breeze from the ocean made the late afternoon delightful.

The local pastor, Augustine Zar, has become a friend of ours. He is the head pastor the church we most usually attend, and we have been a channel of your support for improvement to his church, and also to the Christian elementary school he runs. Monday, he asked us—along with Henry, Marrie and Noah—to journey with him to Kakata to visit his farm. There he and his family grow eggplant, bitterball, cassava, raise hogs, and are about to resume planting rice.

It was nice to get out of the Monrovia area, and we were treated with generosity and hospitality. We looked over the crops, visited the neighbors, and ate bitterball and palm butter. Just before we left, the clan announced it had a gift for the Reeds. We have visited before, and are becoming close to these good folks. We were touched at their thoughtfulness. Then they showed us the gift.

It was a hog. A real live hog. Of course, we had to receive it-- this was a real honor. So they hauled out of the pen, washed her up and tied her in a bag for the ride home. We named her Henrietta after her Uncle Henry. She rode with us the whole way back to Foster Town, stuffed in that bag in the back of the Pathfinder.

So, dear readers, we now have a new creature to add to the zoo. We don’t have a clue as to what to do with it, but Rev. Zar assures us he will help us out.

Getting ready for our walk to the farms. Henry and Junior, our host with Rev Zar.

Our stroll. The hunidity was oppressive.

Yers Trooly noting the difference between bitterball leaves and eggplant leaves. What a nerd.

The soon-to-be rice field. Actually, it is larger than this and will cover several acres.

After the crop tour, we vist the neighborhood. Another cooking hut. I think I should author a picture book on the cooking huts of Africa. I find them fascinating.

I like this shot. Lighting is great, as well as subject matter. We are visiting the local church-- an open palm and reed structure with bamboo pews next to the local pastor's house.

So when we got back, they were preparing the stinky lil' hog. Washing her up, though we could still smell her on the way home, even with the windows down.

Back home to the menagerie. From the bottom, Dale Rooster, Henrietta Hog, Dogs Max and Bandit, Grace Deer, and Dogs Jackie and Nikki.

Appreciating Johnson Town

Weather: Hot and very humid, with daytime highs in the mid 90sF and night time lows around 80F. Hazy skies.

Wednesday brother-in-law Henry joined me as I took my act on the road back to Johnson Town. Johnson Town wants to develop—they want a school, clinic, a church, and commerce. They also want to tackle some sticky psychosocial issues, like what to do with young men returning after fighting in a very dirty war, or how to address alcoholism in the community, or how to address conflict in a more healthy way. Working with staff from the MPCHS Womens' Program, I’ll be there regularly for the next few months establishing trust and building relationship that may allow me to serve them in practical ways on these issues. This week, we conducted what is called an “appreciative inquiry,” which basically means asking members to look positively at the community—what are its strengths and resources, what makes it unique, who are its leaders, what are its dreams. From there we begin a process of tapping into all that positive energy to help them make good things happen.

We arrived and the Johnson Town folks were already in the partially completed Women's Resource Center, waiting for us. This is a panorama using three pictures.

Another pan shot after the meeting closed. Yers Trooly on the left was feeling blessed to listen to these concerned Johnson Town residents express their hopes and dreams for the future.

Leaving the center. It is being built by the women of the town. Pastor Henry Kranenburg on the left.

The center just two weeks ago.

As I said, built by the women. Each woman is responsible to provide 1000 bricks. Provide means make. Here Hawa digs the earth in the hot African sun, makes the mud and puts it in a wook brick form. Every Tuesday she'll make a 100 until she reaches a thousand.

A bit of Johnson Town. Cooking hut on the left.

The town is made up of a very few central structures with a few dozen others in the surrounding bush. More on this in another post.

After our time is over, participants head home, chairs in hand.

More Blessings-In-Law

Weather: Very pleasant and sunny Tuesday, with low humidity and temps in the mid to upper eighties. Light and variable breeze. A most exceptional day after a weekend that saw 39C (102F) temps Saturday followed on Sunday and Monday by rain and unseasonably cool weather-- with daytime temps only reaching the mid 20sC (mid 70sF).

UPDATED Tuesday April 3

In-laws from my point of view, that is. A few weeks ago, it was bro-in-law Brian, today and for a while the VIPs are Renita's mom Marrie Kranenburg, and her brother Henry Kranenburg. They got here Sunday night. In an interesting "full circle twist," their arrival was something special. Last March, you may recall-- or review the archive to the right-- Marrie and husband Peter arrived just minutes after former president Charles Taylor touched down and was flown out in handcuffs to await his war crimes trial. This time, they landed for a stop over in Feetown, Sierra Leone and were joined by the current President, Ellen Johnson-Sirleaf. Marrie and Henry both had a chance to meet President Sirleaf.

So you could say, "Last time they were here, the Kranenburgs chased the former President out of Liberia, and this time they escorted the current President in."

Anyway, should be a non-stop week. I'll be tormenting my social work students with a mid term, then Wednesday I'll be back in the village of Johnson Town with the MPCHS Women's Program. Thursday Renita takes the Kranenburgs to Buchanan, and Saturday we'll be visiting farms in Kakata.

This was the scene at the airport one year ago as the Kranenburgs arrived-- Charles Taylor being escorted from one plane to another-- bound (we hope) for justice. AP photo.

The scene at the airport Sunday, as President Ellen Johnson Sirleaf hears words of encouragement and praise from our own ambassador of good will, Marrie "Oma" Kranenburg.

Next day, the Reed morning ritual is shared: coffee, quiet chat and animals as we look forward to upcoming activities.

One of those activities being home school. Oma as guest intructor teaches Noah his piano, Renita leads Hannah through the music of math and Uncle Henry cat calls from the cheap seats.

Finally, just before dinner, its water time. Here Hannah and Henry discuss how much faster he can pump than "slow poke Unca Brian." They could not suppress a good laugh.

A Short Breather

Weather: Mostly sunny and humid during the day, some wind and thunderstorms at night. High temps in the mid 90's and humid, temps in the upper 70s at night.

This round of guests is back in the States, and we await round three, arriving Sunday night. We look forward to visitors coming for many reasons, and when the visitors leave we look forward to returning to the Liberian version of "Reed Normal" for other reasons. So we have a week of rest and catching our breath. For the Reeds, this means:

Tuesday morning-- its good to have mom back teaching math.

Yers Trooly getting ready for his class at MPCHS. Here consulting with Sr. Barbara.

Afternoon is water pumping time, every day. The kids find a way to make the time more than a chore. Noah plays the palm branch guitar with foot resting on Spunky while Eastman drums and Enoch dances-- all for their hardworking audience-- Hannah and Trokon at the pump.

At Dusk, Noah is off, somewhere in the neighborhood playing. In this case, it was not baseball-- they were imagining themselves as UN Peacekeepers.

Another activity we've been working at: teaching 13 year old Hannah to drive. She's making a tight right-hand turn. Noah on her right and Eastman off camera on her left act as traffic cones, so I'm standing there to prevent the cones being run over.

A dad teaching his daughter to drive. In the words of Tevia, "Where is the little girl I carried?"