Some Shots that Never Made It

We are in the midst of our North American journey of meeting, greeting and eating. I cannot believe how much food is available, and everybody loves to see us eat. Like I need it. Not that I'm really complaining. We are spending time with the people who love us most, people who have been with us throughout our time in West Africa. So it is "busy-o plenty but a good good tie."

But I miss Liberia.

I can't believe I'm saying it, but I do. I miss the simplicity-- the basic, uncomplicated but daily struggle of our neighbors and friends. I miss rubbing shoulders with people who have little more than some rice and their souls to share. In Liberia, my life just seems more real.

So last night, thinking about what to write today, I started looking over possible pictures of our time in North America. You all came to mind and I thought, "These people do not want shots of Renita or me in meetings or Hannah or Noah in a Michigan swimming pool." Maybe you do, but I guess maybe I don't want to see them. Then I began looking over the images of Liberia, and I realized there are a bunch of shots that almost made it to the blog but for one reason or another-- e.g. they didn't fit the theme that week or there was something wrong with the quality, or there was a different pic that fit better-- they just didn't get in. So, here are a few pics that you never saw-- blogworthy but until now without a blog. Enjoy.
Next week: "Family Reunion(s)"

Our first few weeks here. Rainy season, and Lionel wears a water crown under the drain spout. Note the stare. Since it is rainy season Liberia, he's probably under there right now.

October 2005. The road from Rivercess with CHAL. (Look it up in the archives, you can see Yers Trooly waiting for these guys to haul the cab out of the mud.) This is typical of interior roads during the rainy season.

One day, Noah got it into his head to get shots of people jumping. This surreal piece is called "Nikki the Dog Stupified Yet Again By Human Behavior." The subjects are Victoria and Rachel.

Looking down upon a fishing boat in Mali.

Another Mali shot. The Reeds enjoying quiet moment.

Vera, the woman who cooks for us during the week and does our laundry, cooking for her own family late afternoon at home.

This may be the strangest billboard I have ever seen. I'm thinking the baby (note the five o'clock shadow) looks a tad like former president Charles Taylor.

One last shot of the Monk. This is her being angry. You won't like her when she's angry.

Hannah, in the midst of a Liberian-style, in your face, tell-it-like-you-see-it argument. You can actually see her speaking Liberian English.

Where our 300 friends from Barclayville drink. They call it their well. What would you call it?

Another Noah piece: "Sand Rain on Sand Dome via Enoch and Jackson."

We hear the pangolin is doing just fine. Hope to see her soon.

Meanwhile, back in the States, the Reeds are livin' large in the VanderStelt's guest cottage. Sponge Bob Square Pants blesses the children from the TV whist Renita networks.

Meet 'n Greet

It took me about a week to adjust to jet lag; the rest of the Reeds got used to the time difference much quicker. We are about a third of the way through our visit to the Americas. All of us are still finding adjustment to the world around us taking longer. As we try to figure out exactly what being here feels like and means, we will pass along the observations to you.

In the meantime, we are going, going, going. It makes life a roller coaster. On the down side of the ride, we are a bit tired because every day we are getting together for work meetings or seeing friends. On the up side, we get a rush out of everyone we meet. There are so many that we love and love us. So we leave the place we are staying droopy, then we get a big boost when we see the folks we are meeting, then we dip down again until the next meet n' greet. The pics below are some of the highlights of our first week.

Our friends the Katerbergs throw an open house just after we arrived. It was great to see a bunch of our friends and co-laborers, and we got a chance to tell 'em what's going on in Liberia.

The Katerbergs own a golf cart so Noah, Hannah and the other kids got a chance to do some wheelin'.

A few days later, Yers Trooly gets to meet with Calvin College social work chair Cheryl Brandsen and BSW instructor/friend Stacia Hoeksema with son. Discussing the future of the MPCHS BSW program. Soon we hope to "hang head" with the folks from Kuyper College, the other US school working with MPCHS.

Later in the week, we attended a conference hosted by CRWRC. There we met our old friends Zakka Chomock and John Orkar. Interestingly, they work in Nigeria, we work in Liberia, but we've never seen each other in either country. We met in Senegal, the last time we were together was in Mali (insert), and here we are in the USA.

Sunday, we went to our home church, Madison Square. This is one of three services. We gave 'em the five minute update, then I asked 'em to say "cheese."

After church, we got the biggest treat of all-- walking down the street to our old house, now owned by Stacia and Tom Hoeksema. Chatting with Ida Reid and Mabel Jones.

One of our deaest friends in this big old world. This is Glenda Quinn, our former next door neighbor, sharing an African fashion moment with Renita while Yers Trooly gloms on for attention.

Getting Over the Curbs

We arrived in Grand Rapids, Michigan USA Thursday night, and are finding being here is a bit more complicated than we'd like it to be. On the one hand, it could not be easier to be here. Grand Rapids is a beautiful city-- orderly, quiet, green, neat, tidy and very familiar. Everything that was here two years ago still is; the city is still the same, the building and streets still the same. Yet even though everything is familiar, everything has changed. From the moment we left the airport we saw this mid-sized midwestern city with a perspective informed by two years in West Africa.

I know this may sound weird but what I noticed first were the curbs. They frame every road in the city. In strategic places, they are painted. Then I noticed the streetlights and stoplights. They are all working. The fire hydrants are all bright yellow. I noticed the roads-- smooth and level. Thousands of lawns covered with green freshly mowed grass. I found myself fascinated with the neatness and tidiness of this typical American city. I never saw it like this before, and I still can't get over it. I wonder if it's what an first time African visiter would see. Because none of what I'm seeing-- the suburban curbs, sidewalks, paved sidestreets, hydrants, mulch--- a Liberian boy has ever seen before:

Just another neighborhood on a rainy Sunday morning. Beautiful smooth roads, immaculate attractive sidewalk, picturesque lampost, quiet open lawns. There are so many neighborhoods like this, I couldn't find it again if I wanted to.

This is what I mean about curbs. I think this is for drainage at a city parking lot. But instead of a simple hole or a break, the city sloped the curbs and they brought in these beautiful stones and integrated the drain with the landscaping. Nice mulch too.

See, in Grand Rapids, they love their curbs so much they put up signs so you won't hit them. Note the landscaping--- more nice plants and, God love 'em, mulch.

Everywhere I drove, the city had planted rows of trees, and each of the trees has its own lil' mulch covered base. What a city!

Perfect curbs and perfect fire hydrants. They all have poles screwed on them in case they get covered with snow. Or mulch.

We're in heaven, Dave. Hydrant heaven. Could there a happier hydrant anywhere?

No sidewalk is bruised or broken for long. The city is there to prevent toe stubbing and lawsuits. The mind boggles.

And if sidestreets get too bumpy, why, they get resurfaced. And while their digging, why not replace the old pipes with these really cool black plastic ones. Somebody is going to have to email me a shot of the new curbs. Do NOT forget the mulch!

The Reeds in Transit

By the time most of you check in on us we will be in Michigan, but as I write we are still on our way. Seven hours on the plane to Brussels left us without sleep when we arrived at 5:00am. We endured a five hour layover in a Brussels terminal, an eight hour flight to Atlanta, and here we sit for seven hours in the Peach State. Stay tuned, you'll hear it here first.

Tired and feeling a bit yucky in Brussels.

Catching the kids dropping off on the plane somewhere over the North Atlantic.

Took this one five minutes ago in Atlanta. Dog tired, and feeling surreal to be in the USA.

A Few Lines Before We Head Outa Here

Weather: Sunday, partly cloudy and humid, temps in the lo 90's. Monday, heavy overcast, with occasional rain. Winds 5-10mph from the west. hi temps in the lo 80's, with nighttime lo's in the upper 70's.

Tis Monday, and sometime early Thursday we will become the Reeds in Belgium, then late Thursday will transform into the Reeds in Michigan. We will spend the month of June in the US and Canada, then be back here by July 1. We are busy with loose ends, but still have some news.

Item-- The market place is almost up. The roof is nearly complete and by the time we return, we hope to see the women selling their goods. We cannot convey to you what a victory this is for the Foster Town community.

Item-- Mother Patern has received over 50 applicants to their new BSW program. That's more than we can handle, but it means we'll probably get some good students out of the bunch.

Item-- The pangolin remains with us. He is still only drinking milk, and has not yet learned that the eggs the flies lay on him are edible, so we need to clean off the larvae that hide under his scales. When he gets older, they will be a convenient snack.

Item-- LEAD's fifth class begins in June while we are in the States.

Next Blog from the States!

The Market nearly finished. A community coming together under one zinc roof.

That's it from Pangolin country!

Concrete Evidence of Confident Hope

I mentioned a few weeks ago that throughout Liberia, but especially around the larger cities, we see houses going up. Thousands of new cement block homes are being built, all beginning at once, as if by signal. Here, within eyesight of our house, we’ve seen four new homes within a year and now our friend and former pastor Sam Reeves of Providence Baptist Church is building here too-- right next door.

A couple typical shots out the car window. On top on the way to Kakata, about eight miles out of Monrovia. On the bottom, on the way from the airport, about fifteen miles southeast of Monrovia. If you look closely at both, there are about twenty new homes in the process of construction. Just to the left and right, twenty more, and twenty more, and so on...

This is a hill a few miles from our home. Two years ago, there were about three houses on it.

Back in our neighborhood, this is the scene just next to our house. Sam Reeves is walling off his property in preparation for laying his foundation. Unfortunately, we will soon be trapped in our yard if we don't move our current gate which opens into his yard.

This is our property on the left last year above, and how it looks now with the new Reeves' wall being constructed. Like much in Liberia, an old pathway must give way to progress.

This is one of our neighbors' home. Where the family of five live currently is on the right-- a better view is in the insert. This family has lived in that matt shack for several years. Soon they will move to their new home. This is very typical. Reclaim the land you own, build a structure on it, and when you can afford it, build your house.

A couple months ago, this house next door did not exist. Then suddenly, we have new neighbors.

Healing the Hidden Casualty

The effects of the 25 year collapse of Liberia cannot be conceptualized. A quarter million citizens dead, the nation’s infrastructure and economy in ruins, the culture pulverized and unrecognizable. In two and half decades, Liberians destroyed Liberia, although most of the world never noticed. Liberians now bear the burden of rebuilding her. The UN says the country has been set back a hundred years, that even with 10% growth annually for the next 25 years, Liberia will only be where it was in 1980.

When we arrived in Foster Town, we expected to see the signs of a post-war African society: crippling poverty, destitution, unemployment, crime, and opportunistic corruption. As we have developed friends and worked with our neighbors to help heal this community, we have uncovered another casualty of this collapse—the common, ordinary trust of one Liberian toward another. Lost trust is perhaps the most damaging effect of the collapse of Liberia.

We began to see the effects of this damage with the attempt to bring people together via a neighborhood organization and projects identified by the community- a marketplace and new wells. Once real progress was evident, mistrust reared its head. People began fighting, arguing, accusing each other of theft and dishonesty. Factions formed. Liberians undermined Liberians. The work stalled.

Now, while it is true that the Liberian collapse has deepened mistrust, I do not mean to suggest that it created mistrust. Mistrust is woven into human nature. By nature, Liberians are no more mistrustful than, say, people from Michigan. But back in Michigan, when our neighborhood fails to come together in unity, or when gossip and backbiting wreck an endeavor, or when someone we know cheats his neighbor, we end up telling ourselves that’s just the way things are. We grumble a bit, and then we take advantage of our insulating treasure. We lock our doors, turn on the TV or drink a beer or pick up the bible or find some other cushion, and we forget it. It doesn’t really matter anyway.

In Foster Town Liberia, mistrust matters. Mistrust means no clean water. Mistrust means sick babies and hungry kids. Mistrust means family violence and rogues seizing the opportunities. Mistrust means a needed marketplace stalls mid-construction. Mistrust immediately and directly affects the quality of everyone’s life. Without rebuilding trust, Foster Town and Liberia cannot recover.

Fortunately, no one knows this better than some of our Liberian neighbors. The most wise hear Christ’s call to “love one another, forgive even your enemies.” The wisest among us are calling neighbors to come together, to be unified in spirit. Recent meetings have ended in Liberians embracing Liberians, with new resolve to join forces for the sake of a better Foster Town. The work restarts.

This will not be easy work. More conflict lies dormant, and as the market gets built and new wells get dug, the dormant conflicts promise to emerge. However, only when conflicts emerge can we address them and work toward healing. So we begin to see the Genius behind the call to love one another: The work of rebuilding, of healing, of improving a community brings conflict by design. Only then can sources of conflict be addressed-- and transformed into understanding. And when we begin to understand one another, we begin to heal the trust the past 25 years tried to take.

A marketplace, wells-- and trust-- under construction. We'll keep you apprised.

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!