Ladies and Lacerations

Well there are 3 things I want to put in this post.....they are not really related but bear with smorgasboard if you will.

First off are the ladies that I previously mentioned.

Matou a lady in her mid-thirties. Lives across from me. Three children all in Liberia, one of which is her sister's child who she raised as her own without telling him because her sister died in the war when he was a baby. Does not ask for money, asks for work. She is tired of being warehoused at the camp--there is nothing for her to do. Has a great sense of humor, hardworking, and openly Chirstian. Willing to help others out. Training as a nurse until the war came and pushed her out. Continued her studies in Ghana until she ran out of money. She showed me pictures and letters of acceptance and attendance at her schools as well as her transcript. She has one of the best can-do-it attitudes I have seen and is planning to return to LIberia and her children some time next month.

Annette, also a middle aged lady by African standards. Works as a laundry lady for CBW (Children's Better Way-org. I am working with). Has two young daughters Abigail and Debrah,who are attending school in 2 and 5 grade, respectively. The girls are smart and bright and cheerful. Annette's husband deserted her and she became very depressed until she found Christ. Now she knows that even if its hard, there is a way. She has a long term boyfriend who assists with the girl's education fees, but they are too poor to get married. He is training as a computer hardware technician. Annette dreams of attending a catering school in a nearby town. It is run by a French-trained Ghanian and she has given me the brochure, a phone number, as well as a list of prices. Her wish is that her children go to college one day--everything she does, she does for them. Annette is separated from all of her family members due to the war, and her father was murdered by the rebels.

Grace is a young mother 26 to two month old baby girl. She dropped out of high school so she could care for her child. Both of her parents died in the war and she has scars covering her body from when the soldiers stabbed her repeatedly. Since she has no formal education she is a seller, I have given her enough money so that she could begin selling roasted fish. The babies father left her when she found out she was pregnant, she has no family at camp. She couldn't afford water the other day so she borrowed some so that she could breastfeed her baby. She does not have money for food and relies on the kindness of others. She told me once, that she knew I could trust her because she would never do anything to hurt her baby. She is so willing. I told her I would help her practice her reading, the next day she camp with a small notebook so that I could write down the words she had trouble with when she read, so that she could practice at home.
Its all pretty inspiring--these women are so thirsty and willing to learn and excell, so that they can provide for their children.

Second order of business. Jimmy, Jules (my biggest fan!!), Claire, Ben, and Mike: I went on a bike ride on Saturday. CBW planned a trip a little into the country side past 2 villages and lots of farm land (which was beautiful and interesting) to stop at a third village and drink palm wine. Sounds pretty perfect huh, gorgeous early morning weather past paradise and then palm wine? Well we rented bikes which varied to having no brakes, to no gears that would work, to no cushions on the seat (VITAL I REPEAT VITAL). So I got a bike with sketchy brakes and good everything else and it was lovely. The dirt road had a bunch of ruts from hard core water runoff and I ate it. I caught the lip of one and lost my balance right in front of the second village. I ate it hard by my standards right on a pile of trash. I have road rash on my right shoulder blade and upper arm and right leg. I have a bruise the size of a hotdog on my right thigh, a gash in my elbow and a fairly scrapped up palm and knee. I had a large audience of children as I swore loudly as I smeared antibacterial on my wounds (Jules the snowboardnig story about scrubbing your shin came up so fresh in my mind that I had to sit down). But no worries, folks, Im doing fine and palm wine tasted sweet.

Eh I didn't get to the third but no worries. There's always later.