Into The Bush!

For those of you that have grown accustomed to adding my weekly updates to your Sunday ritual - I apologize for this being later than my usual postings.  Hopefully the rivitting blow by blow account of our weekend in the African countryside will more than make up for any musings regarding whether I'd gotten lazy or just forgotten to blog this weekend.  Never fear!  The past two days were punctuated with comments from Peter regarding "this will be great for the blog!" 

Eye Team home is white tent on left

Eye team enjoying some downtime

Our weekend started early in that the ship scheduled the first three day weekend of our outreach here in Togo.  Since we don't observe any country's specific holidays having an occasional three day weekend every few months is a real morale booster.  Each week we have a community prayer meeting on Thursday nights concentrating on different themes.  For the past four weeks we had cultural lectures and movies that really helped us understand some of the cultural and historical differences between the western nations represented on the ship and the local peoples.  This past Thursday night was the second week in the theme of getting to know the people we work with on the ship.  Thursday was the first time there was a communal dinner and celebration with all the day workers (200+) hired to work with us.  It was so nice to have a nice, relaxing time getting to know our day workers better, worshipping with them and sharing a meal.  The weather out on the dock could not have been more gorgeous so there was much dancing and singing well into the evening. 

On Friday Peter was on call so I figured we'd have a calm, peaceful long weekend on board the ship with plenty of time to clean our cabin and do laundry.  At dinner on Friday a few other crew members told us of their plan to go visit a popular mountain retreat about 60 miles away that we'd wanted to visit and asked if we wanted to join them?  We deliberated for a bit and decided "why not?" 

So, at 8am on Sat. morning we had our extra undies, toothbrushes and alot of water packed and we headed off the ship in search of a cab driver willing to take us 60 miles out of town.  We've heard many stories about the negotiating for rides, appropriate pricing, etc... but this was probably our first real experience trying to find a ride for 7 people that distance.  We soon discovered that Peter's conversational knowledge of French was going to be a bonus.  Amazingly, we found a van for 6 that could take 7 for a mere $6 a piece!  On the way out of town the driver had to stop for money, a bottle of gas and getting stopped by the police for overloading his van but we made pretty good time to our destinating of Kpalime' (pronounced Pal-o-may). 

We found it interesting how often the police like to stop cabs and vans with white people supposedly over the limits of the particular conveyance since if one observed the locals and how much they pile onto a falling apart motorcycle one would not pick the van as the point of impending danger.  Oh well...on with our story. 

A couple of the fellows with us knew of a retreat center outside of Kpalime' run by the Christian sister organization to Mercy ships known as YWAM (Youth with a mission).  Apparently, it has a reputation for infinite availability and very cheap prices.  We had the driver of our van drop us at the foot of a very long, very winding dirt road with the promise to pick us up the next day at 2pm for the trip back to the port.  The sign at the bottom of the hill indicated we were on the correct road but the phone number on the sign apparently wasn't working.  I thought this could be omenous.  


Guest House

"road" to YWAM retreat center

The trek up was not too bad as it was early in the day and it was not terribly hot.  As we climbed higher and higher up the mountain road I was praying that a) we were going to the right place, b) this place was actually open and c) they had room for us to stay there.  After wandering past multiple groups of abandoned buildings we finally saw a few people that confirmed we had found the YWAM center!  Hallelujah!  They then accosted us with "why didn't you call?"  Peter, in his limited French explained we did but the number didn't work but could we stay there?  Apparently they had many, many residents currently there and it would take a little shuffling but they could accomodate us for the night.  Second hallelujah!  As luck would have it the group already there was a primary health care group that many of us had met on multiple occasions already that just happened to be working out of this base visiting remote villages in this part of Togo.  Of all the people in this little country it struck us as odd that we would run into this particular group four times in four different places over the past month. 

Termite mound along road

So - having secured a room for the night we stashed our stuff and wandered back down the winding trail to the village at the bottom to go into Kpalime' proper and hike to the local waterfall. 

We walked, and walked and walked some more.  We older folks - Peter and I - were losing our sense of humor regarding lack of conveyance in the outback of Africa.  Plan was hatched to flag down some of the locals with motorcycles - called Jimmy Johns - for a ride into town.  This mode of travel is reknown for it's low level of safety and Peter and I were less than enthusiastic but within moments three cyclists stopped and began the negotiations.  I climbed on the back of the first one and my weekend immediately changed course.  Not for the better either....

I'd forgotten a short person needs to be extra careful of the muffler when riding on the back of a hot motorcycle.  I immediately remembered this fact when I felt the searing pain of the new burn on my right calf as soon as I hopped on board.  Not being the type to tough much of anything out for long I suggested that Peter and I take the first two Jimmy Johns back to the base of our mountain and let the rest go on into town for their hike. 

This trek up the mountain was met with much kvetching and moaning on my part as it was quite hot, about 95 degrees out and about 85+% humidity by now and my leg didn't belong to a happy person. 

By the time we got to the top we'd consumed all our water and all our good humor.  The good news was our room was ready and the health team was able to give me plenty of ointment and dressings to help me take care of my nasty burn.  We had plenty of water with us in our room, an ossilating fan, a rejuvenating breeze so we settled in for well needed afternoon naps.  I started feeling much better about things in general. 

Kitchen

That evening we had a most interesting meal with the group.  Very African in preparation and menu.  The caretaker has an African kitchen where everything is cooked in large metal pots over open fires.  We had fish, fried plantains and baked cassava.  Probably one of the best meals we've had since we've arrived in Africa!  The rest of the evening was spent enjoying the glorious cool breeze at the top of our mountain retreat.  We learned this center was founded by German missionaries 120 years ago!  When I think of the arduous walk up the steep hill I'm amazed to think that these industrious Germans not only made many, many trips up and down but hauled all the building supplies as well without the benefit of the modern capability even currently available.  Never mind the medicines to protect them from the diseases and parasites that we now have at our disposal. 

After a simple breakfast in the morning Peter set off for a long hike up the rest of the mountain while I stayed back enjoying the breeze and the shade. 



Mountaintop church

Peter's group found a small village at the top of the mountain who were in the midst of their church service.  They joined in for awhile and Peter even managed to convince them his French was not extensive enough to give the sermon they wanted from him.  Once again - his advanced age in high demand!  Meanwhile I came into a fair amount of humility as I hung out being lazy in my room and on the balcony overlooking the valley below. 

Most of the morning I could hear the faint but distince beat of African drums and singing.  As the morning progressed the singing became louder.  After hours of this I all of a sudden heard the most gorgeous, harmoneous singing in response to a cantor's lead.  I started to wander to the highest point of the retreat center and then saw an entire congregation making their way up the dirt road in their Sunday finery singing God's praises as they made their way up past our center to an ampitheater just past where we were staying.  Here these people, grandmas and grandpas, mom's with babies strapped to their backs were winding their way up the road praising God all the way where just yesterday I had groused and moaned about how awful it was to climb this hill when my leg hurt. 

I wish the good Lord did not have so many lessons to teach me. 

Three more groups made their way up the hill in glorious harmony as the morning stretched on.  These people certain can teach us a thing or two about worship. 

By about noon the rest of our group came back and we made our way back down the hill in hopes that our van driver from the day before remembered his promise and was on his way to pick us up.  Peter had tried to call him earlier but did not get thru.  Once we were down the hill he did get ahold of him but unfortunately he was still in Lome' and not even on his way to come get us.  Hmmmm....

This was the part I was concerned about as getting places is usually not the challenge here.  Gettting back is where your prayer life gets a work out. 

So - we came up with our plan B.  Peter and another guy got a couple of Jimmy Johns to take them to a cab stand and hire some conveyence to take us back to Lome - a two hour drive.  Fortunately Peter and his French were once again our hero as 15 minutes later we saw them return in a somewhat delapidated van.  The good news was we would still be able to all travel together.  The bad news was this van was in decidedly worse shape than the one we'd been in before. 

So - despite stopping twice to buy a liter of gas here and there as well as a small bag of water for the driver's friend and later two huge bags of charcoal we made it into Lome'.  We were extremely grateful as we got closer and closer since we noticed that each time the driver had to slow down for a giant pothole or speedbump he often had to restart the engine.  Hmmmmm.  Each time he needed to restart it would take more than once to turn the engine over.  Hmmmmmm.  Seems his alternator had seen better days.  No doubt since Peter - in the passenger's seat - saw that the odometer, now broken stopped working at nearly 300K kilometers!  About halfway there the driver's friend told him to stop.  We were out in the country and hoped we weren't getting kicked out.  No.  The friend saw that the lugnuts on the wheel where Peter was sitting were loose!  Three, four, five or more turns later of all the lug nuts and we were back on our way.  Livin' on the edge...

As long as we were in the countryside and the van could drive without stopping we did pretty well.  Once we got into the large, capitol city of Lome' he had to stop multiple times.  Nearly each time the engine would die.  Each time it took more effort to get it to start.  Soon the battery sounded like it was nearing its end.  Then it died.

At least we were in Lome'.  We figured we could get cabs from here but no!  The friend hopped out and started pushing.  This amazing guy not only got the van with all of us in it to move but the driver was able to jump start it!  We were amazed!  He continued to drive us to the local bus / cab station that many had been to before so we were happy that we had gotten that far and with no additional casualties!  Soon cabs were dispatched with us to the local port and we were in our rooms enjoying a hot shower with time to spare before dinner! 

My burn looks like its healing up alright and we've got an interesting story to tell for our weekend in the Bush.  I'm actually rather grateful Peter is on call all next weekend as I know his wanderlust will have to take a break for at least two weeks.  Most of the younger crew go off on "seat of their pants" weekends like this every week.  We like our adventures to feel less like hitch hiking I think.  The thing we are very happy for was not only the peace and quiet we enjoyed at the retreat center but also the sense of really seeing something of Africa.  Many of the villages we passed through looked as though time had not touched them in hundreds of years.  There were thatched roofs, goats and chickens running around and everything was very, very clean.

Peter mentioned last night as we were getting ready for bed that the weekend was not exactly restful in a stressfree sense but it was rejuvenating just by getting away from the ship and the port.  Having something like this every so often makes us more curious about this African continent as well as punctuates our time on the ship.  Although I'm not terribly anxious for more adventures Peter's heard alot about Ghana.....  We'll see.....