Tuesday, January 17, 2012
Ben 1 Cor. 6:19-20
Every morning we read the Bible and learn a Bible verse. Ben learns them too and also loves to read his Bible. Here is Ben saying 1 Cor. 6:19-20.
Sunday, January 15, 2012
Time In Burkina Faso
Where I stayed was a 45 minute walk off the road, so my friend carried my suitcase on her bike.
Adiara and her youngest
Adiara's sister
So, I’m off on my own. I left Ben and the rest of the gang in the truck at the airport Sunday afternoon. He cried. I cried. Mike gave Ben a sucker. He stopped crying and I don’t really want to analyze where that puts me on Ben’s list of favorite things!!!!
In normal African form, the trip was interesting. We got of a bit late, but not too bad. We fly into an airport just a bit before the landing time I had listed, so I figured we must have made up time in the air, yay us! I’m looking around as we taxi and things are a lot greener than I expected. I have never been to Burkina in January, but since it’s during the dry season, I had the idea everything would look dead. No matter. I continue reading my Kindle which was malfunctioning and really irritating me. Every few minutes the stupid thing would freeze up and I’d have to spend about 5 minutes or getting it rebooted and find my place in my book again because it would return to the front of the book! Notice my level of distraction here. Add to that, announcements on airlines here are barely recognizable in any language and they are speaking a language that’s not my mother tongue. At any rate, while reading, I thought I caught the name “Lome” which is a city in a country several over from ours. To start with, I write it off as mishearing or possibly an announcement for where the airplane is going next. It’s not unusual for our airlines to stop over at multiple cities.
Next time, the announcement comes on I try really hard to listen better, but I’m still getting Charlie Brown’s teacher in my head and there it was again, “Lome”. I can’t figure out what in the world they were talking about, so I pull out all of my information. No, it clearly says my plane will arrive in Ouaga at this time. Crud! Now I think back. What if I got on the wrong plane? I’m probably going to jail. I know I’ll go to airline jail because I don’t have a visa for Togo. No, no I remember well that the monitor over the lady’s head had read Ouaga. OK. Maybe I’m hallucinating and this is Ouaga. I’m searching the airport for any signs on the outside that would give me a clue. The Air Togo hangar made me worried, but I see no other evidence of where I am. I get really desperate and decide to ask my neighbor.
I know, I know. You figure that since I’m a missionary I’ve already lead my seat mate to Christ and gathered believers in my section to form a church plant of rows C through G. A and B would have rounded out the alphabet but we don’t want things so big that we can’t really get to know one another, right? … And here’s the truth. I’ve spoken only a couple of words to the lady and she doesn’t want to talk to me and I’m happily working on my Kindle, remember? Whatever the reply is at this point, I’m going to look like an idiot, but here goes. “Excuse me, isn’t this Ouaga?” “No.” Gee, thanks for the help!
I did eventually make it to Ouaga. Fortunately being 2 hours late is quite acceptable here and so it all worked out fine! My friend didn’t even comment on my tardiness.
I love the city-village life and so I had asked to spend the night at my Burkinabe friend, Agira’s house. Those following for a while remember her as my dear friend that you’ve prayed for for ever so long. The nasty red clay dust, Ouaga was brown by the way, really choked me up to start with. I’m certain it has settled in parts of my lungs that aren’t supposed to be dusty, too, so I could be dealing with it for years to come. I got to spend the night in a little clay hut, unfortunately it was square instead of round. I slept on the concrete floor on a plastic mat. Some of you just conjured up a kindergarten nap mat in your head and were horrified by the small level of cushioning that would have been. I don’t want to deceive you here. My mat had 0 cushion because it was made of tiny plastic straws woven together!!! Now the locals are all complaining about the cold, but at that point it was only around 75 and with no wind blowing in the little hut, I was fine. Around 4 AM it dropped to around 60 and my thin African blood was no longer tolerating that. My arms hurt, my shoulders hurt, my back hurt and my nose was frozen. I had reached for the only thing I could find in the night which was the towel I’d dried off with when I took my outhouse with no roof, bucket bath a few hours earlier. I think I dozed off a couple of times, but it was a long night. Maybe I should look into purchasing one of those kindergarten mats!
I woke up to donkey’s braying, sheep and goats frolicking and little pigs oinking. I don’t know how they manage to have little pigs because I never see big pigs! All this farm life roaming around gives the village feel, but the fact that I can look over the outhouse wall and count no less than 30 huts gives the city feel. It’s all complicated and interesting and I love it mostly because I got to spend nearly 24 hours with a dear friend I can only see once every couple of years.
We stopped to rest after lunch as is local custom and since I was super tired I dozed off right away. Within a few moments, the feel of something climbing up my stomach awakened me. I screamed and dove over the nearest sleeping body as sleep gave way to realization. It seems the mice mistook me for a jungle gym. All I can say is that I am thrilled they didn’t try that trick in the dark!!
On a final note, I didn’t really get to share more about Christ with my friend, partly because I don’t know what more I’d share. I’ve told her nearly every Bible story I know. Listened along with her to 2 gospels in her language. I’ll never give up hoping, but it didn’t happen this trip. I was interested to hear how God is answering some of my prayers and yours for her. She mentioned a friend she has made that believes in praying for others “like you” she says. She also mentioned that this friend was a Muslim, but converted. I’m interested in seeing where God is going with this one!!
My love to all,
Heather
Sunday, January 8, 2012
Fireworks
OK. So, those of you that are REALLY close friends and family already know about my firework phobia. The rest of you, just get ready to say, "We always knew there was something wrong with that girl!" For as long as I can remember I've had a dislike for fireworks. They scare me. I don't even like sparklers. I especially hate the loud things. They make me want to hide in a closet and not come out! Unfortunately, living in a big city means fireworks are everywhere. They like to shoot them off the week of Christmas and more and more until New Year's comes and goes.
For the last several weeks or more like a few months, we've been hearing firecrackers in the streets. Firecrackers are among my least favorite of the fireworks especially if I don't know they are coming. Think with me for a moment here. Only a few months ago here, men had guns and were running around in the streets shooting them at one another. I've felt OK about being here, fairly safe and not too worried, but random pow pow noises in the street are not really what I want to hear!!!!
Fast forward to the weekend of New Year's. Before the sun is even down, people started with the bottle rockets and firecracker and some sort of super bottle rocket. Around 9, apparently the city stages a big show which consists of an hour worth of constant fireworks including that big cannon sounding thing they like to do in the grand finale of a show in the states. I went outside in the yard for one reason only, to look and see if there was a portion of the city going up in a TNT explosion or something. I thought maybe somebody had gotten into one of the supposed weapons cache things and had blown it up. I thought the whole city might be blown off the map, with what I heard. That went on Friday night, Saturday night and Sunday night. The neighbors seem to have finally run out of their stash, much to my relief! Since buying and selling fireworks is illegal here, I have no idea how the WHOLE city came by them, but I'm glad they seem to be gone for now.
This week, I've been getting ready for my first solo trip since Ben was born. I have to go to Niger for a home school conference. I'm hoping he'll be good for Mike and not notice I'm gone.
This week has also brought up one of the biggest challenges to me of living overseas. Caleb has had a bad cough and I finally decided it was time to take him to the doc. She says it's bronchitis and gave him a boatload of meds. When he didn't respond like I thought he should to those, I am posed with the ever present dilemna. Do I really trust the healthcare here and where can I turn if I don't? I suppose I had an easy time of things in the states. The kids aren't sick much, I was never sick much either. When the doctor told me I had an illness, I believed them. If they said, it's not something to worry about, I didn't worry. If they gave me medicine, I took it. All of the sudden, we're off in the wild blue yonder. I barely understand the doctor and I'm not always sure they understood me. They treat people differently here. They explain nothing. They prescribe unnecessary meds. We've been frequently misdiagnosed, sometimes gravely so. I've even been prescribed medicines that don't exist. We do have help. We have people we can call, it's just so frustrating not to know a doctor in country that I feel like I can trust. To end a long rant, Caleb is doing better today. I think the meds are finally working and he'll be fine. It's just a reminder that "I'm not in Kansas anymore"! ;) I miss my family, I miss my friends and I miss Dr Milroy!
Heather
For the last several weeks or more like a few months, we've been hearing firecrackers in the streets. Firecrackers are among my least favorite of the fireworks especially if I don't know they are coming. Think with me for a moment here. Only a few months ago here, men had guns and were running around in the streets shooting them at one another. I've felt OK about being here, fairly safe and not too worried, but random pow pow noises in the street are not really what I want to hear!!!!
Fast forward to the weekend of New Year's. Before the sun is even down, people started with the bottle rockets and firecracker and some sort of super bottle rocket. Around 9, apparently the city stages a big show which consists of an hour worth of constant fireworks including that big cannon sounding thing they like to do in the grand finale of a show in the states. I went outside in the yard for one reason only, to look and see if there was a portion of the city going up in a TNT explosion or something. I thought maybe somebody had gotten into one of the supposed weapons cache things and had blown it up. I thought the whole city might be blown off the map, with what I heard. That went on Friday night, Saturday night and Sunday night. The neighbors seem to have finally run out of their stash, much to my relief! Since buying and selling fireworks is illegal here, I have no idea how the WHOLE city came by them, but I'm glad they seem to be gone for now.
This week, I've been getting ready for my first solo trip since Ben was born. I have to go to Niger for a home school conference. I'm hoping he'll be good for Mike and not notice I'm gone.
This week has also brought up one of the biggest challenges to me of living overseas. Caleb has had a bad cough and I finally decided it was time to take him to the doc. She says it's bronchitis and gave him a boatload of meds. When he didn't respond like I thought he should to those, I am posed with the ever present dilemna. Do I really trust the healthcare here and where can I turn if I don't? I suppose I had an easy time of things in the states. The kids aren't sick much, I was never sick much either. When the doctor told me I had an illness, I believed them. If they said, it's not something to worry about, I didn't worry. If they gave me medicine, I took it. All of the sudden, we're off in the wild blue yonder. I barely understand the doctor and I'm not always sure they understood me. They treat people differently here. They explain nothing. They prescribe unnecessary meds. We've been frequently misdiagnosed, sometimes gravely so. I've even been prescribed medicines that don't exist. We do have help. We have people we can call, it's just so frustrating not to know a doctor in country that I feel like I can trust. To end a long rant, Caleb is doing better today. I think the meds are finally working and he'll be fine. It's just a reminder that "I'm not in Kansas anymore"! ;) I miss my family, I miss my friends and I miss Dr Milroy!
Heather
Wednesday, December 28, 2011
Christmas 2011
Christmas here always means going to church, so it was just and added bonus that it fell on Sunday this year. One of the churches we attend was having a dinner together after church, so we enjoyed sharing Christmas dinner with them all. I look really thrilled to be there, wouldn't you say! ;) I dont' know what I was doing in that picture, but we did have a great time together. Since the preparations for the Christmas party had kept me busy, I had to fulfill my promise to make Christmas cookies with Karis on Christmas day. Then some friends came over and we spent the evening playing games and then Skyping with our family! It was a very nice day.
Heather
Christmas Party
We had our annual Christmas party on the 23rd. We try to take the time every year to tell our staff how much they mean to us and invite special friends as well. We share traditional African food of rice and sauce and I bake a boatload of cookies and cake and muffins. 50 people managed to consume 4 batches of peanut butter cookies, 4 batches of sugar cookies, 8 batches of pumpkin muffins, 4 batches of banana bread, 2 batches of snickerdoodles, 1 chocolate cake and 3 gallons of KoolAid! Aside from that they each ate several plates of rice and sauce! This year we made popcorn balls for all of the guests to enjoy and got the kids a little gift to take home. It's always SO MUCH WORK, but because we have their undivided attention we get to share the reason we celebrate Christmas.
Mike let me share the story this year and I told of God's plan from creation to redeem mankind by sending His son as the perfect sacrifice. It was a fun night. We hope you had fun celebrating the Son wherever you are!
Heather
Christine is Still Sick
I've hesitated to write this story as I don't know if I can do justice to the cultural knowledge you need to understand it. I'm fairly certain that I don't even have the cultural understanding to truly grasp what is going on, but it is such a good picture of some of the obstacles we face that I want to give it a try.
Many of you may remember the name of Christine. Those that have been here may even remember her. She is a widow in her mid 50s that has had a very difficult life. She is an immigrant from Burkina that has lived in Abidjan for more years than I've been alive. She worked every day in the market for a dollar or so each day to be able to pay the rent on her house of around $30 and to have whatever else she might scrounge up to eat with. I honestly don't know how she lives. She is involved in the local Catholic church and they may help her a little when she's in a tight spot, but they have a church full of people in nearly as dire a need as her. I've storied with her for a long time in her spot in the market. Occasionally other women listen, but she's always had a bit of a rivalry going with her closest market. They seem to be friends on the outside, but they often snip at one another and are competing for my attention.
Christine has been sick a lot of the time since I got back. She has some grown children, but they aren't really helping her. Some of them are still living at home and eating her food and taking up space. If they get sick, she has to get them to the doctor. To start with we all assumed she was just overstressed and tired. By the first of September she was treated for malaria a few times. After a few weeks, she finally went to another doctor who did a blood test for her. It should have been done long ago, but she had no money to pay for it. She was diagnosed with typhoid fever and kept in the hospital a few weeks. This particular doctor does charity work and was treating her for free. She's the only one of her kind that I'm aware of in this city. She was sent home for a couple of days and quickly taken back. They thought the typhoid fever had just flared up, but after several more weeks of treatment they've found that something worse is going on. Many years ago, she was diagnosed with TB and that is what seems to be back. About 2 weeks ago her doctor told her that she'd be spending the holidays in the hospital, but unexpectedly she was released only a few days after that. I still don't have the whys of that decision or if she fled, but from then on, she's been nearly unresponsive. She won't talk to friends. She sits in her house and sleeps and refuses to talk.
Christmas eve, I ran by with some food to try to lift her spirits and finally found out what was at the heart of her utter despair. Christine thinks that someone has put a curse on her to knock her off so that they can have me as their very own friend. Now I know my American friends just spit on themselves in sloughing that off as the most ridiculous thing they've ever heard. Let me just say that is not at all uncommon thought here, neither that someone would put a curse on her out of jealousy, nor the idea of a curse in general. Our friends here live in constant fear of a spirit world that I am oblivious to and even often skeptical of, but I have seen the power at work in the lives of others. I don't have any idea how much of this power is in the minds affected and how much is pure evil at work, but I do know that it is very effective whichever way it works. I don't suppose it matters if the evil one destroys by the power of one's mind or if he wields power over germs and sickness.
After I picked my jaw up off the floor, because although I've worked here for 4 years, I wasn't expecting this one, I tried to compose myself and figure out what to say. I've never in my life prayed "God help me say the right words" as I have here! In that short instance I decided not to tackle the validity of the curse, argue who may have made such a curse or even assure her that she'd be fine. What was impressed on me in the moment was to remind her who Jesus is, the authority and power He has and at the same time warn her that we are all to be ready to stand before a Holy God. I wanted her to understand that we are all ashamed, in filth and without hope if we stand on our own merits and that only Jesus can cleanse and restore us. She listened. She's not looked at me in weeks, but she looked me in the eye and heard what I said. In one hateful moment she sarcastically retorted to a comment that I had made, "So you think I'll get better?!" It was the perfect chance to say that none of us is guaranteed tomorrow and we must all be ready. God laid in on my heart also to reassure her that He never leaves us and His plans are for our good even when we can't see it.
In all honesty, I really only held it together long enough to get out of there! The idea that she may die had already worked it's way into my thoughts as I saw her sitting there a complete skeleton. The thought that she figured she'd been cursed on my account was enough to make me cry buckets. In a moment, I wondered if my presence does only cause suffering. Then I remembered we are all under the curse of our sin and we surely will die a spiritual eternal death without the news of salvation. For that reason, He calls His own to share what He's done for us. So I must keep on and so must you. When you look at your neighbor who seems to have it all together on their own, think of a skeleton wasting away because of the curse of sin and death. If you don't do something, Christine's possibility will be their reality.
Sorry, I didn't realize this story was going to turn into a lecture! On a happy note, Christine called me Monday to wish me Merry Christmas. She sounded upbeat and her reaching out is something I haven't seen in a while. I'll try to keep you posted, but pray for her body as well as her heart. I'm not sure about her soul. She has a lot of good answers to my questions, but on a deeper level, I really don't know where her heart and her hope is.
With Love,
Heather
Many of you may remember the name of Christine. Those that have been here may even remember her. She is a widow in her mid 50s that has had a very difficult life. She is an immigrant from Burkina that has lived in Abidjan for more years than I've been alive. She worked every day in the market for a dollar or so each day to be able to pay the rent on her house of around $30 and to have whatever else she might scrounge up to eat with. I honestly don't know how she lives. She is involved in the local Catholic church and they may help her a little when she's in a tight spot, but they have a church full of people in nearly as dire a need as her. I've storied with her for a long time in her spot in the market. Occasionally other women listen, but she's always had a bit of a rivalry going with her closest market. They seem to be friends on the outside, but they often snip at one another and are competing for my attention.
Christine has been sick a lot of the time since I got back. She has some grown children, but they aren't really helping her. Some of them are still living at home and eating her food and taking up space. If they get sick, she has to get them to the doctor. To start with we all assumed she was just overstressed and tired. By the first of September she was treated for malaria a few times. After a few weeks, she finally went to another doctor who did a blood test for her. It should have been done long ago, but she had no money to pay for it. She was diagnosed with typhoid fever and kept in the hospital a few weeks. This particular doctor does charity work and was treating her for free. She's the only one of her kind that I'm aware of in this city. She was sent home for a couple of days and quickly taken back. They thought the typhoid fever had just flared up, but after several more weeks of treatment they've found that something worse is going on. Many years ago, she was diagnosed with TB and that is what seems to be back. About 2 weeks ago her doctor told her that she'd be spending the holidays in the hospital, but unexpectedly she was released only a few days after that. I still don't have the whys of that decision or if she fled, but from then on, she's been nearly unresponsive. She won't talk to friends. She sits in her house and sleeps and refuses to talk.
Christmas eve, I ran by with some food to try to lift her spirits and finally found out what was at the heart of her utter despair. Christine thinks that someone has put a curse on her to knock her off so that they can have me as their very own friend. Now I know my American friends just spit on themselves in sloughing that off as the most ridiculous thing they've ever heard. Let me just say that is not at all uncommon thought here, neither that someone would put a curse on her out of jealousy, nor the idea of a curse in general. Our friends here live in constant fear of a spirit world that I am oblivious to and even often skeptical of, but I have seen the power at work in the lives of others. I don't have any idea how much of this power is in the minds affected and how much is pure evil at work, but I do know that it is very effective whichever way it works. I don't suppose it matters if the evil one destroys by the power of one's mind or if he wields power over germs and sickness.
After I picked my jaw up off the floor, because although I've worked here for 4 years, I wasn't expecting this one, I tried to compose myself and figure out what to say. I've never in my life prayed "God help me say the right words" as I have here! In that short instance I decided not to tackle the validity of the curse, argue who may have made such a curse or even assure her that she'd be fine. What was impressed on me in the moment was to remind her who Jesus is, the authority and power He has and at the same time warn her that we are all to be ready to stand before a Holy God. I wanted her to understand that we are all ashamed, in filth and without hope if we stand on our own merits and that only Jesus can cleanse and restore us. She listened. She's not looked at me in weeks, but she looked me in the eye and heard what I said. In one hateful moment she sarcastically retorted to a comment that I had made, "So you think I'll get better?!" It was the perfect chance to say that none of us is guaranteed tomorrow and we must all be ready. God laid in on my heart also to reassure her that He never leaves us and His plans are for our good even when we can't see it.
In all honesty, I really only held it together long enough to get out of there! The idea that she may die had already worked it's way into my thoughts as I saw her sitting there a complete skeleton. The thought that she figured she'd been cursed on my account was enough to make me cry buckets. In a moment, I wondered if my presence does only cause suffering. Then I remembered we are all under the curse of our sin and we surely will die a spiritual eternal death without the news of salvation. For that reason, He calls His own to share what He's done for us. So I must keep on and so must you. When you look at your neighbor who seems to have it all together on their own, think of a skeleton wasting away because of the curse of sin and death. If you don't do something, Christine's possibility will be their reality.
Sorry, I didn't realize this story was going to turn into a lecture! On a happy note, Christine called me Monday to wish me Merry Christmas. She sounded upbeat and her reaching out is something I haven't seen in a while. I'll try to keep you posted, but pray for her body as well as her heart. I'm not sure about her soul. She has a lot of good answers to my questions, but on a deeper level, I really don't know where her heart and her hope is.
With Love,
Heather
Tuesday, December 27, 2011
Christmas Misadventures
Those that have been following my ridiculous self for a while will remember that 2 years ago around Christmas, I had my first encounter with a pickpocketing ring that hauled off some of my hard earned cash. Christmas in the big city always brings out the best and worst in humanity, so I had another round with the wrong side of the law this year too!
I had had a particularly hard day. It had been a full day of homeschool, learning 3 stories in my spare time (which consists of basically memorizing around 15-25 verses of scripture per story), got the family lunch, went out and taught the 3 stories, fielded many difficult questions about who God is and what we have to do to please Him, taught one of the stories in Moore (which I struggle with for every word), handled a rowdy gang of women half of whom wished to have a loud discussion and the other half wished to study the Bible and pray. I had gotten a call during my last group to let me know that a good friend that was deathly ill had been released from the hospital. I had no details, but normally they don't let deathly ill people out of the hospital for their continued health. I was really worried about her. I was definitely feeling the weight of the day and I knew that I still had to get home and make supper for the family! Traffic is a bear in the city during the holidays and arriving home without being killed or killing someone is hard work. We'd made it nearly home, I was out with a female colleague that day. Just when we'd nearly made it, disaster struck.
I was in bumper to bumper traffic waiting for a light and inching forward. I spotted a well known trouble maker headed toward our truck. He usually just aggravates people for money or tries to wash their windshield to make them feel like they should pay him. I kept sight of him in my peripheral vision, but my main worry was the traffic and the light. He slowed as he saw my vehicle and walked past too close. I barely saw him reach up and slap my sideview mirror with his hand as he passed. I fussed and said that guy hit my mirror, while my colleague rolled down the window to flip it back out straight. About that time, I see him sidle up to my window holding his shoulder. OH BROTHER! was my first response. I really thought he was going to be silly and beg money out of me pitifully. My colleague wagged her finger at him and told him what he'd done was wrong and all of a sudden I saw the anger and hatred spark his eyes. He tore around to her side and started a screaming match. As soon as traffic began to move he went in front of our vehicle and blocked my path. We stood there locked in a stare down with no way to move, other than run over the punk, which I did consider. A crowd started to gather. He spouted off that I hit him and he'd not move until I paid him. In normal African fashion, a spokesman came to deliver his demand. I retorted that HE hit my truck and HE should pay ME! Finally the crowd pulled him out from in front of my vehicle and I took off.
This sounds like a fairly stupid incident, but I was pretty scared and fairly humiliated by what passersby that hadn't seen him hit my truck would think. I was really afraid for a few days in that area as he and his gang are usually close. He had murder in his eyes during the incident and I wasn't sure what exactly he might do if he had another chance. Mike wanted to go back up there and "have a talk with him." Our househelper was fit to be tied to go with Mike in case he needed help "talking". I was certain that somebody would get hurt if that happened and begged them not to go. For a few days as I rode around with Mike, I avoided the intersection, but to do so really makes it hard to get around. Finally, on Christmas Eve, I headed back through, figuring I'd have to find out sooner or later what he intended to do to me. I will have to admit that I had thoroughly outfitted my phones with all possible numbers I might need to call! Sure enough, there he was. It was my first time driving again after the problem and I drive straight up to him!!! He saw my truck and ran toward it. I plaster on a smile, check all of my escape routes and look right at him. "Merry Christmas!" he says smiling sweetly. "Merry Christmas to you" I echo. I wave, he waves and walks off. He didn't even beg for money, which would have been his usual routine. Whew! A Christmas miracle for sure.
Crazy times! We'll hope I can manage to stay out of trouble next Christmas.
Heather
I had had a particularly hard day. It had been a full day of homeschool, learning 3 stories in my spare time (which consists of basically memorizing around 15-25 verses of scripture per story), got the family lunch, went out and taught the 3 stories, fielded many difficult questions about who God is and what we have to do to please Him, taught one of the stories in Moore (which I struggle with for every word), handled a rowdy gang of women half of whom wished to have a loud discussion and the other half wished to study the Bible and pray. I had gotten a call during my last group to let me know that a good friend that was deathly ill had been released from the hospital. I had no details, but normally they don't let deathly ill people out of the hospital for their continued health. I was really worried about her. I was definitely feeling the weight of the day and I knew that I still had to get home and make supper for the family! Traffic is a bear in the city during the holidays and arriving home without being killed or killing someone is hard work. We'd made it nearly home, I was out with a female colleague that day. Just when we'd nearly made it, disaster struck.
I was in bumper to bumper traffic waiting for a light and inching forward. I spotted a well known trouble maker headed toward our truck. He usually just aggravates people for money or tries to wash their windshield to make them feel like they should pay him. I kept sight of him in my peripheral vision, but my main worry was the traffic and the light. He slowed as he saw my vehicle and walked past too close. I barely saw him reach up and slap my sideview mirror with his hand as he passed. I fussed and said that guy hit my mirror, while my colleague rolled down the window to flip it back out straight. About that time, I see him sidle up to my window holding his shoulder. OH BROTHER! was my first response. I really thought he was going to be silly and beg money out of me pitifully. My colleague wagged her finger at him and told him what he'd done was wrong and all of a sudden I saw the anger and hatred spark his eyes. He tore around to her side and started a screaming match. As soon as traffic began to move he went in front of our vehicle and blocked my path. We stood there locked in a stare down with no way to move, other than run over the punk, which I did consider. A crowd started to gather. He spouted off that I hit him and he'd not move until I paid him. In normal African fashion, a spokesman came to deliver his demand. I retorted that HE hit my truck and HE should pay ME! Finally the crowd pulled him out from in front of my vehicle and I took off.
This sounds like a fairly stupid incident, but I was pretty scared and fairly humiliated by what passersby that hadn't seen him hit my truck would think. I was really afraid for a few days in that area as he and his gang are usually close. He had murder in his eyes during the incident and I wasn't sure what exactly he might do if he had another chance. Mike wanted to go back up there and "have a talk with him." Our househelper was fit to be tied to go with Mike in case he needed help "talking". I was certain that somebody would get hurt if that happened and begged them not to go. For a few days as I rode around with Mike, I avoided the intersection, but to do so really makes it hard to get around. Finally, on Christmas Eve, I headed back through, figuring I'd have to find out sooner or later what he intended to do to me. I will have to admit that I had thoroughly outfitted my phones with all possible numbers I might need to call! Sure enough, there he was. It was my first time driving again after the problem and I drive straight up to him!!! He saw my truck and ran toward it. I plaster on a smile, check all of my escape routes and look right at him. "Merry Christmas!" he says smiling sweetly. "Merry Christmas to you" I echo. I wave, he waves and walks off. He didn't even beg for money, which would have been his usual routine. Whew! A Christmas miracle for sure.
Crazy times! We'll hope I can manage to stay out of trouble next Christmas.
Heather
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