He looked to be three days older than dirt as he shuffled through the gate.  Leaning heavily on two walking sticks, moving slower than molasses in January, he looked like a puff of wind would topple him.  They introduced him as a pastor and the much younger man with him (his son?) also as a pastor.  He's a kindly gentleman of the old school.  Gentle, humble, and wise.  They brought him to the big city to see the doctor.  Not sure which one of his various old age related maladies brought him here.  They proudly told us he is the oldest man in a large number of villages in his tribe.  I can believe that.  Most of the really old people are women.  They say he's 93.  I could tell he had to be at least 90.  We are honored to have him here at Shiloh.  Two days of doctors visits and then one last night to rest up for the big trip back home.  I hope I'm like him some day.  That is my goal.  I want to finish well with the inner man strong and shining brightly for my Lord.

We spent about an hour and a half this afternoon working on her application.  She's been invited to attend a three week training program for handicapped women who work with other handicapped women and girls in their respective countries.  The training takes place in Eugene OR this summer.  It's looks like a good organization, though fairly young.  I did my best to help her write things out in good American English.  She's one of our partners in our association.  She serves on our board of directors.  We have collaborated on a number of events for the handicapped.  In fact we helped her get her association about ten years ago.  But I don't hold out much hope that she will get a visa to go to the U.S.  Very few are granted anymore.  You have to have lots of money and lots of pull.  They are so afraid that people are going to jump ship.  And in fact many do.  It just makes it that much harder for the honest people.  So we wait and pray and trust God to do what He wills for our worthy friend.

Guy just reported in.  They're out in the village.  His wife and girls are with him.  Marie has been wanting to get out to Eyene for some time now.  Normally we go out with him once a month.  He said they had a nice long visit with Papa Pollycarp and Mama Clair.  Delivered our monthly gift of food to help out this dear elderly couple.  Then he went with Mama Lucy to her brother's village.  Had to take a moto taxi.  It's the only way in.  The village turned out to be farther away than he realized.  But they had a good visit.  The pastor brother says he knows several other Manguisa pastors.  Next time we are in the village (next month, health permitting) we want to meet with them.  We have a proposition for a project we could do together.

Marie likes the house.  Loves the curtains.  (She made them for us.)  The girls are happy to be out in the wide open spaces and away from the city.  I could hear them bouncing and giggling in the background. I told him to enjoy his honeymoon.  He laughed.  They will come back tomorrow.

When we were in the village last month we met one of their daughters.  She was visiting along with her teenage son.  She was a delightful woman and told an interesting story.  She used to be a seamstress.  Made her living that way until her eyes started going bad.  So she approached her father and asked for some of his land.  He had bought a large track of land on the other side of the Sanaga River some years ago when they began selling it off.  The land wasn't considered overly desirable at first so you could get it for a song back then.  He was glad that one of his children was finally showing an interest in the land.  He bought it for them.

She moved out to the area and began her plantation. It was hard work but she was willing to do what she had to in order to succeed.  Then three years later she had her first harvest.  She cut down the very first plantains and took them across the river to her parents.  She left several other regimes of plantains in a pile in the middle of her plantation.  When she returned a couple days later, they were all gone.  She had no idea who the thief was, but went back to work and kept harvesting her first crop.  From time to time she would be missing another regime or two.  One day a neighbor lady told her she knew who was stealing from her.  Then the day came when she was in a town selling more plantains when she spotted two of her regimes.  She hired a moto taxi to take her back to her place and quickly returned.  When she confronted the young man who had her regimes, she had the proof.  She had left part of the plantains on the stock.  The two parts fit together perfectly.  He told her that he had bought it from another lady (the same one who reportedly had been stealing from her).  She let him keep her plantains.

Now it was time to confront the thief.  She went to the woman's house and told her outright that she had been stealing from her.  She reminded her that she had every right to involve the police and put this woman in prison.  But she informed her that she was not going to do that.  She was going to leave the situation in God's hands and let Him take care of everything for her.  The woman began trembling.  She didn't want God involved in the matter.  From that day onward there were no more thefts.  The word got out that God was her guardian.  Everyone respects her and her crops are safe.  It's a powerful testimony throughout the whole region.  We serve a faithful God.

I let the guard out at 6 a.m.  He told me that the water had come back on.  So I trundled upstairs and put a load of cloths in the washing machine.  And then another.  And another.  And at 2 p.m. I took the last load out.  Thankfully we are in the middle of the long dry season so everything got dry.  We hang our laundry on the lines out back.  When they fill up, as they did today, we have lines on the side porch.  After that we have more lines on the side balcony. The water had been off for more days than we care to count.  One of those days near the end we had no electricity.  Of course that made it so there was no internet connection.  But we made it safely through to the end and now everything is all clean again.  Things always work out one way or another.  It's all part of living on the Dark Side of the Moon.

Well that was weird! It started two hours ago when he showed up at the gate.  Since it wasn't too late (8 p.m. is the cut-off time) the guard and I let him in.  Wanted to make a reservation.  Turns out it's for his honeymoon a little over a month from now.  We discussed the details, he paid, and he left.  So far so good.

Now comes the weird part.  An hour and a half later he phones.  Tells me his name.  Reminds me he's the one with the honeymoon coming up.  But he's almost frantic.  Tells me he needs me to forgive him.  Starts talking about having been with another woman but he does not want to be with her any more.  He's found another woman who is better for him.  But he needs my forgiveness.  He has sinned and he cannot continue on like this.  I tell him I have no idea what he is talking about.  So he repeats the whole thing:  the other woman, the new woman, his honeymoon, he has sinned and needs my forgiveness.  I repeat that I'm clueless.  What is this all about?  Why am I forgiving him?  What has he done that needs my forgiveness?  But he insists that he cannot go on without my forgiveness.  He has sinned.  So finally I tell him I don't know what I am forgiving him for but I don't have anything against him.  I'm not upset with him.  He can still have his honeymoon here.  He was sooooo relieved!  Kept thanking me.  Kept asking God to bless me.  And then the call was over.  

Beats me.  I have no idea.  Sometimes you never figure it out.  Thus ends another day.

DVD movies.  We have a rather extensive collection.  They're kind of a necessity out here.  There isn't much to do in the way of relaxation and entertainment.  So we watch movies.  Over and over again.  In fact we have all our favorite ones memorized.  Well, practically memorized.  Did you know that you have to watch the same movie approximately five or six times before you start to notice all the mistakes?  First you realize that the watch he was wearing when they panned away from him was missing when they panned back.  Then you discover that a bouquet of flowers dispensary from the table.  Or maybe she leaves her purse in the taxi, but it's not part of the story line so nobody notices.  The possibilities are endless.  And there are misspoken lines or dropped phrases.  It's actually rather startling the number of mistakes you can catch.  Eventually we find ourselves focusing on room decor and wall colors, or landscaping ideas and hair styles.  What's new in America we wonder.  And all those extras they put on DVD's these days become high entertainment.  Even the director's boring comments can be listened to a couple times.  I mean, why not?  We don't have anything else to do.

We have a 2,000 volume library, but often bemoan the fact there is NOTHING to read.  Same problem.  We've read all our favorite books over and over again.  Jim even reads books from the history and archaeology sections.  I've read all the books on death and dying.  Twice.  We've noted the typos.  And we have all our favorites  memorized.  

And then one day we stumbled onto the wonderful world of YouTube movies.  Wow!  Life does not get any better than this! The options are practically infinite.   And we don't have to watch anything over again any more.  Long live YouTube!!  Of course we'll never know all the mistakes.  You have to take the good with the bad.

He's quite a catch.  Recently widowed.  Owns his own home.  And a car.  Good job.  Kids almost out of the nest.  Late teens, early 20s.  And so it starts.  The vultures are circling.  Everybody who ever thought of finding a husband is busy trying out for the role.  They spruce themselves up and start in.  Some use the bold, frontal approach.  "God revealed to me in a dream that I am your next wife."  Can't fight God.  Except 4-5 gals will all use the same line.  Eventually he figures out that no matter how flattering this is, God is not the God of confusion.  Others are just continually available.  Drop over with a meal.  Offer to clean house.  Anything.  "Look at me, I'm good wife material" their actions say.  Still others will pay (yes pay) a pastor to visit him and tell them that she is the one.  God has made it clear to the pastor. Like God does not know how to talk directly to the widower himself.  The pressure is on.  Of course he does not have to choose anyone.  He can go right on being single for the first time in years.  But probably he will succumb sooner or later.  He's lonely.  The kids have lives of their own to live.  Soon they will all be gone.  Houses and cars and jobs don't cut it on those long nights alone.  So who will win the lottery?  We watch and wait and wonder.  Hope she is worthy.  Hope he doesn't fall into a trap that he spends the rest of his life regretting this move.  Bonne chance.  And may the best man (or woman in this case) win!

Autopsies.  They are available here but they are kind of a waste of time.  I mean everybody knows that it's not practical to search for scientific causes for death:  heart attack, liver cancer.  Better to save your money for sorcery.  Everybody knows the real cause of death is spiritual.  Did someone put a curse on you?  Who?  And are your children cursed, too?  Maybe your whole family will die.  No, save your money.  You're going to need lots of money to get to the bottom of this death.  The answer does not lie in science but in the spiritual.

We never wonder why we are here in Darkest Africa.  It's in our face every day.  People need the Lord.  They are lost.  We need to point them to the Way.  To the One Who is the Way, the Truth, the Life.  He is their only hope in this life and the life to come.

Doris announced she had a tropical boil on her foot and needed to see the doctor.  So off she went to have it lanced.  They are extremely common.  Nearly everyone has had at least one.  Well, I've never had one.  But Jim and practically everyone else has.  They get fairly big and usually have to be lanced.  Lots of blood and puss come out.  In the end they might leave a small crater on your body.  They are fairly nasty but easy to diagnosis, treat, and cure.  It's all part of living in the tropics.  All part of serving God out here in Darkest Africa.

Did you know that Cameroon is home to more than 900 species of birds?  It is one of the most bird diverse countries in the world.  And to think, we live right in the middle of it all.  We have a guest at Shiloh right now who is an avid bird watcher.  Needless to say, he is thrilled to be here.  But it wasn't birds that brought him out here.  That's just a sideline.  He's a librarian.  Works for Tyndale House Publishers.  They sent him out here to help a local seminary refine their library.  And he's visiting several other seminaries in town, giving them pointers as well.  He even took a look at Shiloh's library.  He thought it was well laid out and inviting.

But back to the birds.  He dons his bird watching outfit twice a day, grabs his binoculars and other gear and heads out.  He always comes back with some new species to talk about.  He can't get over it.  And guess what, his wife back in Canada is not the least bit interested in birds!  As they say, opposits attract.

I've been fighting the "gunge" for several days now.  Today I gave up and have spent the entire day in bed.  Can't say I'm any the better for it.  Just when I think it might be breaking up, I go into a new phase.  Being sick is no fun.

The good part is that Jim is now getting out of bed at 6 a.m. to let the guard out.  And he's been making breakfast for our guest, a visiting professor from a nearby seminary.  And he's running the household and doing an admirable job, I might add.

But all things considered, I opt for good health.  Maybe tomorrow I'll truly begin to crawl out of this.  One can wish.

Wow!  It's rather remarkable.  We are linked back up with the outside world!  After nearly a week off line, it's good to be back in touch again.  And to top it off, water came back on a few hours later.  Life just keeps getting better and better!

We've crammed a lot of living into these days of silence.  There is too much to report.  But for starters, we attended a wake keeping for a friend who died.  It's important to visit the body and sit with the family.  In fact, if it is a friend or family member, the culture dictates that you attend either the removal of the body from the morgue, the wake keeping, or the burial, which usually takes place out in the village.  You don't have to attend all three events, but you had better find a way to show up for at least one of them.  And don't even think of the family helping you out in your time of need if you are not there for them when they are in grief.

Doris hit a blip in the road in her family (again).  The mother's estate holds considerable value, so from time to time a relative tries to get greedy.  This time they influenced the youngest brother to try to force a sale of the partially finished house and take his third.  Of course their ultimate motive is to get their hands on that money.  They are not concerned about him and his needs or wants.  But she and her older brother called a family meeting with just the three of them the following day.  They let their brother know in no uncertain terms that they are a unit and he is the youngest.  He does not run the family.  They do.  They must stand united.  In addition, they tried to bring pressure to bear on Doris to get pregnant.  Never mind that she is not engaged, nor does she have a guy in her life anywhere.  They just want a baby.  The family traditions must be preserved.  The next generation is extremely valuable.  If she does not have a baby, who will appease the ancestors?  It's all very demonic and dark.  She put her foot down on this one as well, and the family has left her alone for the moment.  

Life goes on.  Each day has its own adventure.  What will tomorrow bring?

 

Well we finally did it.  Turned in our annual report to the government agency we report to.  We stopped first at the post office.  Out in back in their parking lot we had our report made into a  booklet.  One copy for the office and one copy for us.  You can get anything done in that parking lot.  Photo copies.  Secretaries will type up your document.  Plastic coating. You name it, they do it.  There are extension cords stretched everywhere, leading from an array of office machines to outside outlets.  It's quite amazing actually.

Then on to our government office.  Place was dead. 9:30 a.m. Both doors locked.  Checked with the school director's office next door.  The director was no help.  Had no idea when they would be in the office.  They come and go at will.  They were there yesterday.  Will they come in today?  Are mornings better than afternoons for catching them?  It's all so random, she could not help us.  "I run a school.  I'm here every day.  I don't know what they do next door.  They are hardly ever in."  We phoned Francis for his shopping list and killed an hour.  Back to the office and hit the jackpot.  Doors were both open.  Two gals in the office.  Director's office empty as usual.  10:30 a.m.  One gal asleep on a bench.  Poor lady, she had to wake up and work.  We made her stamp and date our copy.  We need proof that we turned it in.

When our current "boss" was new she came to visit Shiloh.  Brought her boss, a very big lady in the government.  As our gal came through the gate she said rather loudly "This is an empty association.  They don't do anything."  We were insulted.  She had never laid eyes on us before.  We graciously met with them in our living room.  Served them soft drinks and answered questions.  Our boss said we never turn in reports.  We handed her boss the reports from the previous three years.  As she flipped through them she became ever more impressed.  We presented a market bag made by our partners at the Fombam prison to the two ladies and their assistants.  On her way out the gate the big lady told our boss that we were an excellent association!  So there!  Our boss lady asked us for chicken.  Said she was normally given chicken when she came for an inspection like this.  Guy promised her that next visit we would have chicken prepared and ready.  We were obliged to give money to each person who came.  Supposed to be for their transportation.

Well that's done for the year.  We are already working on the 2016 report.  We add things the document as they happen.  Makes it so much easier at the end of the year.  We cannot complain too loudly about what we have to go through.  After all it is because of our association that we get such good permits to live and work in the country.  We are the only missionaries (and I mean the ONLY missionaries) that pay a small sum and get ten year papers with very little effort.  We just turn in the application, pay the fee, and sit back and wait for their phone call that the papers are ready to pick up.  It takes less than a month.  Everybody else pays all sorts of money and goes through all sorts of grief (like six months worth of running back and forth to the office to check on their papers).  In the end they are granted two year permits.  We are really blessed.  We can put up with a little inconvenience every January as we have to deal with the office people.

Harmattan.  It's that time of year again.  Began officially back in November.  Won't be over until the big rains come back.  Takes three torrential rains before we declare it officially over for the year.  We call it "Dirty Season" around here.  It's when the winds blow off the Sahara.  The good news is that it lowers the humidity and prevents rain.  Sometimes the Harmattan haze is so bad it looks like LA during a bad smog day back in the '60s.  Harmattan tends to creep up on you.  We know it's there but don't really focus on it until Christmas is all packed up and put away.  Then we just tough it out until the rains come back by the end of February.  Hopefully.  You can dust at 8 a.m. and it looks like you haven't dusted for a month by 10 a.m.  Everything, absolutely everything is grimy.  The walls, the curtains, the walkways outside, plants, everything.  We dream of rain and better days.  It's really the only bad time of the year, weather wise.  Back in the States some people are shoveling snow (though not so much this year) while we are shoveling dirt!  It's just the way it is.  We'll live though it.  We've done so for 25 years.  We can do it again.  But we are dreaming of rain.  Wonderful, marvelous torrential rain that comes down in sheets.  There's nothing like it.

You should have been at breakfast this morning.  It would have been a great time for you to drop in.  We got into a lively discussion on demon possession.  

Turns out Francis has assisted in casting out demons on occasion.  Doris has witness such things in her church.  And Guy has had experience, too.  They live a very different life than you do in the U.S.  Doris reports that sometimes a new believer will stand during the sermon and start screaming obscenities at the pastor.  Once a woman even began breaking chairs.  Later when the demon was cast out and things calmed down, she had no knowledge of what had happened.  She was shocked to see the broken chairs.  Francis said his pastor does a lot of counseling with a person who comes to him for help with demonic activity in his life.  He discusses their past and points them to the Lord.  He gets them into the Word and brings them to a point where they themselves want to renounce all involvement with the evil one.

Francis told how in a certain tribe there was an old grandmother who died and was buried years and years ago. Eventually a tree grew up right by her grave site.  After some time it was decided that the tree was a god and had strong powers.  So from then on all newborn babies were brought to the base of the tree and laid on the ground.  Then an animal was sacrificed and the blood sprinkled around, some falling on the baby.  Next the baby was anointed with oil.  Finally the baby was given to the demons.  In this way the family is protected and the baby, too.  Lets say that 20 years later that little baby grows up to become a child of God.  When he becomes a Christian, this alliance with the devil has to be dealt with.  If not he can never grow into a strong Christian.  Demons will always be there to torment him.

 We all agreed that God is the All Powerful One.  All the forces of evil amassed together amount to nothing by comparison to Him.  We put our faith and trust in Him and continue to cling to Him.  And we resolve to continue to let Him cleanse us from all unrighteousness, even the things that happened to us and over which we had no control.  The battle is very real out here in Africa. 

. 

The alarm went off at six as usual.  I let the guard out and headed straight for the kitchen.  Once I put the sour dough french bread dough in a warm place to raise (out of reach of the kitchen ants) I headed for the shower.  Quick breakfast and off to church.  It has been several weeks and I was glad to be there.

I love the song service.  Like this one for example: 

      "In Your love, 

      Savior divine, 

      You, the delight of Your Father, 

      You set aside Your splendor, 

      But, oh happy day, You are the victor,

      You conquored death,

      And Your victory is my salvation,

      Yes, happy day, my peace, my joy,

      In You all is new,

      Bless Your name, oh Holy Lamb."

That's my translation from French, but you get the idea.

Rushed back home where Jim was finishing cleaning up one of the rooms.  In the midst of salad making and cutting carrots, I found time for a 30 minute power nap.  Then set the table, took the lasagna and bread out of the oven, and the first of our Sunday guests arrived.  This couple will be here for a week.  They are administrators from another mission.  It's their first time with us.  They took naps while I put the finishing touches on their four course meal.  It was fun.

As they were beginning the soup course our remaining guests arrived.  This missionary family of seven had been on the road all day long and were exhausted.  Everyone washed their hands and hurried off to the porch to eat the sandwiches they had brought from home.  The kids loved our toys.  And then off to bed.  Tomorrow is another day and another trip for them.  

And now I head for bed.  There is breakfast to make before our team arrives in the morning.  Just coffee, granola and yogurt for the couple though.  That's a piece of cake!

 

It happened on Thursday.  Just two days ago.  We got the word right away.  The Embassy takes real good care of us.  They have to answer to you (well, our family) if anything happens to us.  They take that very seriously.

It went down like this:  A Muslim young man snatched a purse from a lady in Mokolo Market and took off running.  (Remember how I told you it's considered a dangerous place...many whites won't go there.  Purse snatching is a very common occurance.)  A policeman saw it happen.  He opened fire on the guy, shot and killed him.  Five of this young man's friends put their heads together and decided something needed to be done.  They had to avenge the death of their comrade.  Without difficulty they gathered a large group of other young men and came swarming into the market, slashing people at will and without provocation.  All Muslim men carry long knives, and they are experts at using them.  Now the police had a riot on their hands.  By the time things calmed down, many were injured and 300 young men were arrested.  Thankfully there were no more deaths.  

So we stayed away from Mokolo.  But I will go back next time I need something that can only be found at Mokolo.  My confidence is in God.  Not in the police.  Not in knives.  Not even in my friends.

You can always tell how important a project is.  It's easy.  Everything goes wrong.  The more wrong, the more important it is.  It's been that way for years.  It's normal.  I always say I'm fighting demons.  It's true. They dance on my computer, my printer.  You can almost see them.  Nothing works right.  Things you type  won't appear on the screen.  The computer crashes.  It's real slow.  Or maybe it will be the printer this time.  It doesn't matter.  It is always something.  One way or another it will be a battle.  And the more important the job, the bigger the battle.

I'm on day two of battling through the data entry on the French side of our annual report for the government.  We have to turn in the report in early January.  It's early January.  The English side has been done for over a week.  But the computer won't cooperate.  I'm taking time off to relax.  Watch a movie.  Read a book.  I'll come back at it tomorrow.  Just five more pages of data entry.  Then print it out and have a final read through. The final stage is having it bound.  There are eighteen pages on each side of the document.  Lots of pictures.  Ours is a model association.  We make our boss lady at Social Services look good.  She doesn't really like us.  But she likes what we do for her.

Well I'm going to enjoy this small calm in the middle of the battle and not even think of all the things that will go wrong tomorrow.

Death.  It's so final.  There's no chance to say good-bye or anything.  Just a phone call to announce she's gone.  She called here not  week ago to wish us happy new year.  Said she and her husband were bringing the baby over for us to meet the little one.  Jim saw her last time he was at Bethesda Hospital.  She worked there in the optometry department.  She was warm, friendly, outgoing, and she made her department.  Brought in all sorts of customers with her winning personality.  She was left with four kids when her first husband died rather suddenly of rapid onset malaria.  She was devastated.  We helped her out.  Gave her a short-term job and a mattress. She had been sleeping on a chair.  The kids were all together on one mattress on the floor.  They were dirt poor.  But time went by and she landed her good job.  The children were growing up.  Then one day another husband came into her life.  He was from Germany.  They fell in love and got married.  We were there to celebrate that joyous occasion.  Her oldest son (is he 20 already?) wrote and sang a song to his mom and his new step-dad.  Two years later she gave birth to an adorable baby girl.  They were living in a nice apartment.  Jim was there last month to repair their washing machine.  He saw the baby.  But she wanted to formally present her daughter to us here at Shiloh.  She never forgot us or all that we did to help her when life was so difficult.  And now she's gone.  We don't even know how it happened.  The burial is on Saturday.  We will be there.  Our hearts ache for this family who have once again lost a parent.  The only preventative measure for death's finality is to be prepared to die.  And she was.  She's at Home in Glory tonight.  We are happy for her even as we grieve.  Cameroonians never take life for granted.  They are not like us.

The post office.  We were there yesterday.  Found two letters.  Both Christmas cards.  One had been opened and searched.  Contained Christmas letter inside card.  Looked suspicious.  Might have money inside.  No such luck.  Sorry.  Our people know better than to send money through the post office.

There's a big wire cage not far from our box.  It's for anything that lands in your box that does not belong to you.  Each time we have 2-3 letters to toss in the cage.  I always wonder what happens to them.  Theoretically they are re-sorted and arrive in the correct box.  How does the theory really work? 

There's another post office in town.  It's right next to the train station.  Not a good place to visit.  We call it a bastion of inefficiency.  Correctly named.  Anything that does not fit into the box gets sent over there.  And even some things that could have gone into the box.  The fudge if they can.  So you take the slip and drive on over.  Once inside you will be sent to a minimum of three people before you arrive at the correct location.  Each person is dreadfully busy doing exactly nothing.  Painting nails, chewing gum, flirting with someone.  You are interrupting.  You are a disturbance.  Finally the right person in the right office at the right desk.  There are two other desks with equally busy employees of the government.  Hand over the slip.  It gets passed on to another desk.  But first you have to pay a fee.  It's expensive.  But that's business.  The second person saunters to a door and knocks.  Someone opens and takes the slip.  Fifteen minutes later they come back out and hand your package to the second person who hands it off to the first person.  Now the fun begins. He carefully examines the declaration slip and estimates the value of your items.  All very subjective.  He opens your package and looks at everything.  Now you are taxed.  Expensive.  You wonder how much of it lands in his pocket and how much gets turned in.  Finally your package is turned over to you and you leave.  Not a repeatable experience.  No packages please.  Ever!

Four years he said.  Four years he had been searching for a place just like Shiloh.  And now he has found us.  His heart was full of gratitude as he described how he had not spent such quality time in prayer in years.  He was going home now, but he will be back.  Regularly.  And he's telling all his pastor friends about us.  We exist for people like this dear pastor.  It is our joy to run this spiritual retreat center for them.

It has been a long and exhausting day.  We left Shiloh at 8:30 a.m. and returned at quarter to five p.m.  It was the second half of our monthly shopping day.  I guess I must be getting old.  We can no longer shop in one day.  It now takes two.  It's a lot of work and I'm just not up to it anymore.

We started at the local ATM to get the money for the trip.  Long live ATMs.  We've lived through the day when it was a real effort to get our funds into the country.  It's true that we have been skimmed, but we now know what to look for and are very careful.  

Then it was off to find a gas bottle.  We trade in our old bottle for a new one.  Costs 6.500 F.  But alas, they are still scarcer than hen's teeth.  We spent the day stopping at one depot after another, but no luck anywhere.  So we came home with an empty bottle.  It starts long about mid-November and goes into January sometime.  It's all contrived, this gas bottle shortage.  We all cook on bottled gas so it is a necessity.  But once we have all adjusted to the "shortage" they can increase the price and we are so happy to finally find gas, we are willing to pay any price.  It works!

Next we went to Orca which is something like Ikea.  It's a great store and we are so blessed to have one in town.  We haven't always had such luxury.  We bought two pillows for our Eyene house.  We've gotten tired of hauling pillows out and back.  We also picked up shampoo very cheaply.  And we looked at table cloths, but didn't find what we needed.  

 

We paid our internet bill for the month.  Very important.  We are the only missionaries who took advantage of their introductory deep discount price.  Everyone else got pressured into the higher price by the used care salesman they sent out to put on the heat.  We are card carrying cheap-skates, so we didn't fall for it.  Sorry.

Then we went off to Mokolo, the biggest market in all of Yaounde and probably all of Cameroon.  Most missionaries and whites are scared of Mokolo.  I've been going there for years and love it.  You just have to be wise and know what you are doing.  I never go alone and hang on to my money.  I'm aware of my surroundings at all times.  The market is crowded and the vendors can be obnoxious.  But I've learned to barter and I find it lots of fun.  We found some nice material to make into table cloths.  I've always brought tablecloths from the U.S., but our current ones are worn out.  So we will have these made and be back in business.  I also managed to find some nice, though second hand, sox for Jim.  I had no idea you could buy them locally.  His mostly have holes in them so we are desperate.  I only paid 800 F per pair ($1.60) which is a steal of a deal.

We went to Reyone des Economy and bought a water filter for Guy and his family.  It was only 19.000 F and the filter lasts a whole year.  Good price.  

Then into the market itself to buy our produce.  Some years ago we stumbled onto a Manguisa woman who sells vegetables.  We get good prices because we are loyal customers and she is quick to go off and pick up something else from other vendors for us.  Loyalty pays off big time here in Cameroon.  Relationships count for everything.  She gave us four large grapefruit as a gift.  Then we bought fruit from the vendor right across from her.  This is a sweet Christian lady we have gotten to know.  We also bought eggs from "our" egg man.  He carefully picks out his best eggs for us.  (Did I mention that relationships count for everything?)

We went to a little hardware store that specializes in  electrical things to buy stuff for Jim.  He's busy repairing a chandelier for us and needs various and sundry things.  Just as we were walking into the shop he phoned to ask us to pick up some decorative chain and electrical cord, too.  Sounds easy.  Fat chance  We went to a number of places and ended up at one location that had what we wanted.  Or so they said.  We waited for  an hour for the young man to find our chain.  Finally he came back with the cord we needed, but the chain was almost ready, or so he promised.  In the end we said we would by the cord and if he ever got the chain for us, he could phone and we MIGHT come back and buy.  Well, he got serious at that point and produced the chain.  It wasn't exactly what we wanted and the price was too high, but we bartered him down and bought it anyway.  Jim was not happy with us.  In the end he decided we hadn't done too badly after all.  He mostly stays at home and lets us go out and face the wolves.  He has no idea what he is missing out on.

We bought all sorts of other things like bananas alongside the road.  Too numerous to talk about.  We were more than exhausted when we came back home. 

Then fun begins in earnest then.  All produce must be soaked in a mild bleach solution to kill off all the unwanted bugs.  Then things are put into containers and put in the refrigerator.  On day one of shopping (last Saturday) we went to a lovely store in Bastos (the rich part of town) and bought meat for the month.  Nothing comes in those nice little packages like you are used to.  So we have to package things up in the size we want and freeze them.  We also went to a large grocery store and bought lots of canned goods as well as cheese.  The cheese is cut into proper portions and frozen for later use.  We work hard while we are out shopping, and we work hard when we get back home.  You really have no idea what you are missing out on!

Some of them make rather elaborate little bouquets.  Others tear off a single bougainvillea or hyacinth flower (from your bushes if they can get to them).  The door bell starts ringing just before 8 a.m.  When the gate opens they thrust their flowers at me saying "Happy New Year!"  And then I give them something to eat, and at Shiloh, we always give a gospel tract, too.  This year I made Snikerdoodles and managed to find some Chick Publication cartoon tracts.  They children are thrilled.  Everyone walks away eagerly reading their little booklet. We had 24 visitors by 11 a.m. when the kids stop coming. It's sort of like Halloween minus the costumes and all that candy.  That is how New Years is spent here in Cameroon.  Well, that and taking the tree and all the other Christmas decorations down.  It's sort of like Halloween minus the costumes and  candy.  We look forward to this special day for children. We like seeing all our little friends.  Presumably their parents are sleeping off New Years Eve festivities.