A Mountain-Top Experience

I have had some amazing Spring Break vacations and some memorable Easter holidays in the past, but this year’s Easter and Spring Break really took the cake. God has blessed me immensely throughout the last several years by giving me wonderful, dedicated friends. One such friend, Caroline Rose, demonstrated unbelievable dedication by making huge sacrifices to take a two week trip to visit me in Africa.  Her visit was a great encouragement to me and a whole heck of a lot of fun.

After some significant worrisome delays, Caroline arrived here in Nigeria on March 30^th. Two days later, Gretchen, Katie, Caroline and I flew to Cameroon for a week of fantastic mid-term vacation. Karen, Equi, and their daughter, Ifolo, had arrived in Cameroon several days earlier and met us in Limbe, Cameroon at a Ocean View hotel.  Upon arriving in Cameroon, we were taken aback by the startling difference between this country and its neighbor, Nigeria.  There was a refreshing amount of peace, order, and clean air that we could only dream of in Ibadan.  This is probably due to the fact that there are something like 15 times more people in Nigerian than are in Cameroon. The atmosphere and terrain in Limbe was simple gorgeous. We lounged for two days on a beach with mountains at our backs and a lovely warm ocean breeze in our faces.

The plan, of course, was to climb the highest mountain in West Africa which also happens to be an active volcano. Our concerns about the approaching rainy season were compounded when our second day on the beach was inundated by an outrageous monsoon. Nevertheless, on Wednesday morning, we arose by 5 AM, stopped by the French bakery for some fresh pastries and yogurt, and drove to the foot of Mount Cameroon in Buea. As spoiled Americans (though it also seemed proved a necessity), we hired six Cameroonian men to act as porters and carry our food, water, tents, and other belongings up the mountain. We planned to hike up and down the mountain in three days, spending one night in or around a hut and the second night in tents only. After repacking our things for the porters, we started the trek up the mountain at around 7 AM. The morning was spent hiking through something like farmland and then a beautiful rainforest.  By noon, we ascended above the treeline and began climbing up steep grasslands. Soon we reached some incredibly steep inclines covered in small volcanic rock which caused very slow going. With exhausted legs, we were all to glad to see our destination for the evening by 3 PM, affectionately known as “Hut #2.”  After a nice warm meal, we were ready to crash by 7 PM.

As we were joined that night by two other hiking groups, the porters kindly set up our very small tents near the rough hut and we bedded down for the night. Unfortunately, my tent was placed squarely upon two large rocks, which made the falling asleep process a bit difficult for Caroline and I. If that was the only trouble of the night, we would have been set.  It started to rain at around 1 AM. It started to POUR at 1:30. At 1:45, a monsoon came and our tent began to cave in. Caroline and I attempted to hold it up for a while, but when we felt water seeping in, we surrendered to the deluge and decided to retreat to the hut, even if it required pushing over our sleeping Chinese hiking companions. Getting out of our wet, collapsing tent was not the most graceful experience, but we eventually made it to shelter where we thankfully found a place large enough to lie down and sleep for a few hours before beginning our hike again.

At 6:30 the next morning, as the sun was rising, several damp, freezing, and somewhat grumpy American arose out of their various “sleeping” quarters.  Without too much discussion, it was decided that we would complete this hiking experience within the next 14 hours so as to escape another night of mountain-top hell.  This required those who were interested in summiting to quickly climb to the top and then begin the trek all the way down the way they came (as opposed to going down the other less steep side of the mountain). Gretchen, Katie, Caroline, and I set out to do just that while the others began the descent immediately.

The four remaining hours of upward climbing to the summit were unbelievably difficult and COLD.  I came close to quitting several times, but eventually made it to the top of the 14,000 ft. volcano. Sitting in a cloud on top of some molten-rock mountain was an incredible (and FREEZING) experience. Nevertheless, we stayed for only 7 minutes before beginning our descent. Coming down the mountain was nearly as difficult as climbing up—in some places more so.  Though I did have a couple of tumbles, I miraculously made it down the volcano alive. The last three hours of the hike were ridiculous as my legs felt like spaghetti and lacked any control. As I told my companions, “I think I now have a better understanding of what it must be like to walk with prosthetic legs—you just toss ‘em out there and hope for the best.”

It took the remaining three days of vacation to recover from our hike. I have never been so sore in my entire life.

The day before our scheduled departure from Cameroon, we decided to go on a little adventure. First, we wanted to find the quick-sand which Karen had “played in” as a child. Though the sand itself wasn’t all that thrilling, our motorcycle drivers, who more-than-willingly chauffeured around Limbe, were quite memorable. Many marriage proposals were given, and many hearts broken that day. Our second destination was a small island out in the bay that we viewed from our motel. In order to reach said island, we were taken (by our same love-struck motorcycle drivers) to a slightly remote fishing village. Upon being quickly swarmed by African men, I wisely counseled by friends to try their hardest to “blend in.” I’m not sure that we were successful. After some intense bargaining (Karen was bargaining for a boat ride while Gretchen was bargaining for more chocolate and land in return for her hand in marriage…), we entered a questionable wooden canoe with a motor and headed out into the waves. We got NEAR the island before our motor stopped working and we decided to jump in and swim the rest of the way. When we reached the island, we climbed to the top of the rocks (which was a feat considering our sore legs) and found the remains of some ancient African dwellings, which was pretty darn cool. Meanwhile our canoe driver was fixing our motor and the motorcycle driver who accompanied us on the boat was trying in vain to woo Caroline.

Eventually we made it back to our hotel, all safe and sound, having made some priceless memories. The next day, our Cameroonian adventure ended with a bang as our hired taxi driver picked us up for the airport nearly two hours late and we came within a hair’s breadth of missing our flight home.

All in all, this spring break was definitely the most venturesome vacation I’ve ever had—truly a mountain-top experience.

2nd Term Comes to a Close

It’s March Madness season, and believe it or not, there have been many riveting discussions here in Ibadan about who will be the reigning champions this year in American Basketball. Unfortunately, my bracket is far from accurate, but the fact that I can even keep up with American sports is pretty amazing to me.

Our 2^nd school term is drawing to a close, and it has been a full one. All of my extra guitar clubs, basketball club, piano lessons, Bible teaching, preschool teaching, and Senior School speech training have kept each week buzzing with activity.  I just finished the Speech unit for the 11^th grade class.  After the 9^th grade presented speeches in front of the entire senior school last month, many of the 11^th graders were quite apprehensive to following their lead.  But overall, I think the experience ended up being very valuable for most of them—and for some of them, possibly life changing.  Surprisingly, several of the students chose to speak on topics which were quite personal—whether it was something that they struggled with or something which they felt passionately about.  I so enjoyed getting to discuss on a deep level issues which they felt their peers needed to hear about—whether it be self-confidence, or anorexia, or overcoming personal challenges.

On the 16^th, ACA hosted their annual Science Fair, which is a BIG DEAL. We’ve been warned about the stress of the Science Fair since our first week in Ibadan last term.  The preschool department’s set-up was nice, with information and activities related to the five senses.  Besides the fact that Kyle—the guy who was in charge of the whole thing—came down with G.I. malaria and typhoid on that day (his birthday) and was in the hospital with an IV, the day went well. At least, it was fun to see the parents come and interact with their kids and teachers. Our department—smelling—was a huge hit for children and adults of all ages.

Last week we had the older girls from the Mission for the Deaf over again. This time we just decorated cookies, played games, and got to know each other better. They are really a great group—very mature for their age and very patient to communicate and help us learn a bit of sign language.

I am thrilled out of my mind to be able to receive my good friend, Caroline Rose, as a guest here starting Thursday.  Of course, she won’t be here in Ibadan long at all before travelling with several of us to Cameroon where we will climb the highest mountain in West Africa.  I’m definitely looking forward to spending my week of spring break in such a fashion—cool weather, full moon, on a volcano in Cameroon—does it get any better? I mean, it’ll be a pretty tough three day hike from what I hear, but I’m thinking it will be worth it. Don’t worry, I’ll bring back some pictures.

In other big news, I have officially decided to return to ACA for a second year after summer break (I’m sure no one saw THAT one coming).  I’m quite excited to be able to continue teaching these students, reaching out in various ministry opportunities, and strengthening relationships.  I will also be returning a bit earlier than initially planned in order to begin a summer science course.  So, come the first of June, I’ll be back in the states—reunited with friends and family. Ahh… life is looking good.

Long Overdue...

Whereas last term I neglected to blog some weeks because I felt there wasn’t that much going on, this term I am neglecting to blog many weeks because there is TOO MUCH going on.  I can’t say which I prefer more.  The slow pace of last term was different and quite nice once I got used to it, but then again, I am a LaPlue, and we LaPlue’s seem to thrive upon packed schedules. 

The past two weeks have been truly great.  I have begun music lessons with Ibukun, and I’m LOVING it. He’s a great kid and he loves God and he loves music. It’s a beautiful combo that Downs Syndrome only enhances.  He has a lot of potential that is not being tapped into right now because of the lack of therapy opportunities in Nigeria and the below-par special education services.  I seriously wish that I could do more practically to help maximize his potential. If nothing else, at least we have a grand time together for an hour a week praising God and learning a bit about instruments and rhythm. 

Last week in Bible, we read and discussed the story of the 10 plagues in Egypt and the Passover.   It is such a powerful story that so clearly illustrates the might and mercy of our God. The kids were super engaged in the excitement of the story.  Near the end of one class, when I was describing God’s instructions to put blood on the doorpost, one little Indian girl, Namita, raised her hand and asked in a very serious manner, “So, that’s what we should go home and do? We should kill a sheep and put the blood over our door to protect us from death?”  Though the question might initially raise a chuckle, it also conveyed to me the amazing faith of children.  Namita was hanging onto every word and believing so completely in this story of God’s power that she was ready to immediately act upon whatever instruction God was giving. If only we older folks could embrace such a child-like faith.

That same day in Bible, I was approached by another girl who, with tears in her eyes, told me that many of her desired friends were being very unkind to her. Our memory verse for the week was Nahum 1:7-- “The Lord is good: he protects his people in times of trouble; he takes care of those who turn to him.” Though intellectually behind her peers (hence one of the causes for the bullying), this girl, who we’ll call Esther, displayed some serious deep thinking when she asked, “Ms. Lee Anne, if God is good, why is it that some people have to go through really hard times?” Struck by the profundity of this little girl’s question, I quickly asked God to speak through me as I opened my mouth. “Well Esther,” I began, “Which is better: to be rich, or to really know God?” Esther quickly responded, “To know God.” “And which is better: to be healthy, or to know God?” Esther’s answer was the same. Finally, I asked, “Which is better: to have many friends, or to know God,” to which she replied, “To know God.”  I then attempted to explain how I think that since God knows that knowing Him is way more important than riches, or health, or even friends, sometimes he allows those things to be taken away if it will allow us to know Him better. I then added, “You know, Esther, God doesn’t just want you to know about him. Did you know that He loves you so much that He wants to be your best friend?” Esther eyes lit up and a grin started to spread over her face. “And when the God of the universe is your best friend, and you really know how much he loves you, the fact that some other people aren’t nice to you will seem really insignificant.” When Esther left me that day, her beautiful smile displayed awe and excitement at such a thought.  For indeed, it is an awesome thought, a wonderful thought, a life-changing thought. 

Last Sunday was a fantastic day.  Church was great—a round table discussion about how one’s passion for God and others works out in everyday life. After church, we headed over to the Mission for the Deaf, which was a beautiful experience. Though it was a rather primitive looking compound for the 160ish students, it was full of joy—which I think is way better than material wealth. I felt very welcomed and truly enjoyed meeting many of the folks there. We enjoyed it so much that we invited the older group of girls and guys to come over Friday for a Movie night. 

So, last night, 65 young men and women came to our compound who could neither hear nor speak—except through sign language. We watched “The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe” (with subtitles, of course) and snacked on popcorn and drinks.  I questioned at first whether they would “get” what was going on in the movie as much as a person with fine hearing. My concern was put to rest when we got the scene in which Aslan was put to death on the stone table. The room was deathly still as all watched with anticipation to see what would happen.  The room remained silent until Aslan appeared again, having risen from the dead to conquer evil. At that point the room erupted in clapping and other various audible signs of excitement.  It was awesome. After the movie, we hung around for a bit “talking” with several of the girls through an interpreter and learning a bit of sign language ourselves. We hope to continue building relationships with these guys through various events and casual visits to their mission. They’re a ton of fun and I think we have a lot to learn from them. 

I think that brings you up to speed on the most exciting things that have been taking place around here. Don’t tell anyone, but I’m afraid that I’m secretly beginning to love Nigeria.

"Little Moments of Truth..."

“It’s a window in the world; a little glimpse of all the goodness getting through. And all along the way the days are made of little moments of Truth.” – Andrew Peterson

                There are no perfect metaphors or analogies, I know. Nonetheless, our God seems to use experiences and pictures around us to perfectly depict to His finite symbol-using creatures Truths which they could not otherwise grasp.  He whose face no man has been able to gaze upon allows us to admire his Being and character through windows of analogy.  I am so thankful that He knows our frame and remembers that be are dust, knowing that our infinitesimal understanding of the Kingdom of God requires pictures and parables. As a child’s comprehension of text often requires pictures, so we need illustration to understand the Story of Creation and its Author.

 I think it no coincidence that the Word so often describes the relationship between God and man in terms of a Father and His children.  The more I work with children, the more perfect I find the comparison.  Though we may dismiss many interactions between kids as immature and childish—perhaps sometimes even thanking God that we are not like THOSE selfish little things—I think they effectively reveal the condition of human nature.  For example, though every one of my two-year-olds has to be reprimanded multiple times throughout the day for misbehaving, they each still find it their prerogative to rebuke their peers at the slightest misbehavior.  Lunch time usually goes something like this:

Me: “Nifemi, you need to put that toy down and eat your rice.” [Nifemi eats a bite]. “Good.”

            Me, upon seeing Saatvik not eating: “Saatvik, you need to eat your apples.”

Meanwhile, Nifemi tries to quickly swallow that one bite so that she can shout, “SAATVIK!! EAT YOUR APPLES!!!”

                Similarly, even if a child has just been released from time-out where they were kicking and screaming, they feel it their responsibility to ensure that the next child undergoes the discipline correctly. “SIT DOWN AND STOP CRYING!” They’ll say in their pretend grown-up voice. How quickly they seem to forget their own wrongdoings and inability to meet standards of the classroom, instead choosing to get their panties in a wad about their friend’s mistakes. It all seems quite silly and trite until I step back and realize that most kids, including myself, never grow out of this tendency to point out the speck in our neighbors eye while there’s a plank in our own.

               

Besides showing me the depravity of human nature, my students have also been an example to me of how to surrender.  So often during playtime, any one child will see an intriguing item in the hands of another student and take it upon themselves to remove it for their own enjoyment.  The first child will then begin crying like it’s the end of the world, meanwhile tugging and pushing in an attempt to secure the toy. When all of this commotion draws the attention of their nearby teacher, I’ll simply call their names and ask them to come to me. Though the fussing usually continues, the kids will usually acquiesce and approach me with the toy.  When I hold out my hand for the toy, the children are quick to hand it over, and suddenly, BAM!—the struggle ends and the two go along their merry way. Amazing how quickly those interpersonal struggles can be alleviated when the little ones look into the face of the Teacher and simply hand over whatever is causing the contention.  If only we would follow the example of these little children and, when that which is rightfully ours is contested, simply hand it over to the Master. I am so thankful that our God, unlike my teacher-self, never tires of calling out our names and taking away our burdens (though they may seem privileges or rights at the time). 

                I am absolutely pumped this week to begin music lessons of some sort with a Beloved of God, Ibuku Baabalobi (meaning “Blessing” in Yoroba). He’s the teenage son of one of our French teachers. Madaam Baab’s and Ibuku traveled up to Gboko for the Christian retreat and the end of the term and I began a conversation with her about disability. Ibuku has Down’s Syndrome which has been really tough for the family to deal with here in Nigeria as there are ZERO therapies, resources or facilities around to support them. I’m really excited to get to know the family more and hopefully provide some encouragement. I really wish I had some training with which I could offer them real services. But for now, I’ll offer my 5 loaves and 2 fish and see what the Lord will do.

                The winter heat continues, but the rains are on the way. Speech class with the ninth grades is up and running and so far is a success.  I’m continually thrilled to see God beginning to stir hearts through His Word in my Bible class. I am now teaching 3 separate guitar clubs and may be starting a basketball club as well, which is keeping my afternoons quite busy. Bible study went really well last week as we began studying and discussing 1 Corinthians. Thanks to those who prayed.  The term has been full so far, but there are still things that I’m wanting to see come into fruition.  God continues to work in me, teaching me new lessons everyday and leading me on an exciting path whose destination I can’t begin to guess. Despite the unknown, I am confident in His perfect ability to guide me every step of the way.

Winter Wonderland??? === not so much.

It’s the dead of winter…or so my calendar says. The preschool art class has been creating a conglomeration of snow crafts—snow men, snowflakes, igloos, etc. The real oddity though, is that most of those little students cannot even begin to imagine a snowy winter.  I’m pretty sure that the average temperature difference between my 2011 winter in Michigan and my 2012 winter in Ibadan is about 100° F.  Going on a run at any point in the day results in the loss of gallons of liquid from my body.  While last year I was thanking God for the warmth that our furnace provided, I am now overflowing with gratitude for our air-conditioning units. 

                Though it has been several weeks since I’ve blogged, not a terrible lot has occurred. The strike ended the Monday after I last wrote. Everyone was pretty happy to return to school come Tuesday morning. And now, a week and a half later, everything is back in full swing—which means we are relieved to see the weekend come. It’s crazy how quickly our attitudes towards school and work can change.  The country as a whole is still experiencing some tension, as you may have heard in the news, but for now, Ibadan is as peaceful as ever. 

                My pre-nursery class has been buzzing with excitement as we now often have 14 students together in a fairly small room. Felo, our little guy from Egypt, has been the biggest handful lately.  His lack of English vernacular has resulted in several horrendous screaming fits, a bit of physical harm to other students, and plenty of general disruptions.  The last few days, however, his demeanor has been changing, particularly towards me. I suppose the fact that I nod knowingly as he speaks (when in fact I have NO IDEA what the kid is rattling off) has made him think that we have a special connection. He has now taken to kissing me.  We’ll be learning the difference between a circle and a square when suddenly he’ll turn, grab my neck, and give me a big wet smack-a-roo on the cheek. Perhaps a little odd, but I’d definitely prefer kissing fits to screaming fits…

                I am freaking LOVING teaching Bible right now.  After a term of bible lessons that began to establish the character of God, it’s fun to be able to refer to those previous stories and acknowledge the consistent gracious way in which the Creator deals with his Creation.  Thinking about and telling the story of Abraham, preparing to sacrifice “his only son, whom he loved so much,” nearly brought tears to my eyes each day that I taught this week. What a beautiful picture God gives us of the son carrying wood up the mountain to the place of sacrifice—wood on which he will soon be slain.  I pray that these stories are impacting my students as much as they impact me.   

                Outside of school, I have recently agreed to begin leading the Bible Study at the South African compound. I feel humbled and inadequate, but willing to take one the challenge. I’d appreciate prayers as I endeavor to lead the group to accept the Word of God which our Father freely holds out for our taking.

Strike Excitement

If you’ve been keeping up with international news at all this week, you’ve probably heard of the excitement in Nigeria.  Well, in case you’re wondering, they’re not just making it up. There has indeed been a national strike due to the government’s removal of the gas subsidy, which has doubled to cost of Petrol at the pump. Sufficed to say, people are a bit upset.  Though there is excitement in the country at large (protests, riots, etc.), I can assure you that I am privy to none of that. Instead, I sit cooped up in our compound, waiting for the strike to end. School has been canceled this week so far, and will continue to be until the strike is over. Last night there was a curfew outside to prevent violence/robbery, though we’re advised not to leave the secure walls of the compound anyway during the day. So, here we sit—playing many games, watching many episodes of Psych, playing many matches of Tennis, reading, writing, and waiting. Sounds exciting, eh? I mean, a couple days off of school was nice, but now we’re just ready to get back in the swing of things.

We did have three days of school last week, before the strike. It was great to see teachers and students again, everyone wishing each other “compliments” for the New Year. It looks like we’ve had a couple new two-year-olds added to our number this term, which means more crying and soiled underwear for a bit. One of the little boys is from Egypt and doesn’t understand a word of English, which makes things quite difficult. Hopefully it won’t take too long for him to settle down and begin learning and enjoying class.

The weather is quite a bit warmer than when I left, I think. Supposedly it’s supposed to get much hotter in a few weeks. Increased mosquitoes have forced me to put a mosquito net over my bed now. Ugly lookin’ thing, but it does the trick.

Many things are in the works for this term. We’ll begin visiting the orphanage  regularly once the strike ends. We’re doing to re-paint and decorate the main room in the American House so as to allow better hospitality.   Yesterday we briefly visited the Christian Mission for the Deaf, which is a residential school for kids with deafness and other physical disabilities, AND which is just across the street. We MAY be inviting those folks to our next Luke 14 Feast. I’m also going to begin doing more in the school with Speech and/or debate. We haven’t determined exactly what that’s going to look like yet either. As I say, many things are in the works which should make for an exciting term!

Thanks for your prayers.

Happy New Year from Ibadan!

A New Year is upon us. As I attempt to reflect on my life as it unfolded in 2011, I can’t quite fathom how much change, blessing, and growth was crammed into the year. From a final semester at Hillsdale, to a summer with Teach For America, to a Fall Term teaching in Nigeria. It seems really crazy as I look back upon it. It’s also crystal clear, from the year’s events, that my life is not in my hands. I am so thankful that my life rests in the arms of a God who loves adventure and adores His children.

It’s been nearly a month and a half since my last post and, unsurprisingly, A LOT has happened in that time. I’ll just give you the highlights.  In November, we had a delicious American Thanksgiving Feast in Nigeria with some Indian and South African friends—quite ironic, I know.  As the term neared the finish line in December, things at school began to get a bit hectic. Christmas parties to plan, report cards to fill out, lessons to cram in, etc. One story worthy of re-telling occurred within the realm of my speech club. When I found out that one of my students had plagiarized her speech and lied about it repeatedly, I decided to write the speech that she would deliver for assembly the last week of classes. I handed her the speech that I wrote just minutes before she was to speak in front of the entire senior school. The speeches topic: Trustworthiness. Hopefully that student learned a lesson that day that will not soon be forgotten.

After a host of in-school and out-of-school Christmas parties, the term finally came to an end. While Gretchen, Katie, and Kyle headed back to the United States, I headed up north to Gboko, Nigeria for a Christian Retreat. The bus ride up to Gboko was quite eventful: involving tons of traffic, a busted tire, 40 police checkpoints,  and an hour and a half spent pulled over by local police asking for 25,000 Niara for some “official” sticker (we were released only after I brought out my guitar and sang a couple praise songs, which they clapped and danced to). Consequently, our trip took about 7 hours longer than we had planned.  I had questioned whether or not it would be worth it to cut into my time back in American for this conference.  It didn’t take long in Gboko for me to realize that it was the best decision ever.  There were about 25,000 people at this retreat, most of whom just slept outside for the 4 nights during the conference. The preaching was incredibly convicting, centering around the theme of “In this your day.”  Through hours of prayer, and fantastic preaching, we meditated on the question: “Now that Christ has brought us out of our Night of sin, how can we maximize our Day for the glory of God?” How do we use the time and tools that God has given us to the fullest increase of the Kingdom of Heaven? I thank God for using this conference to convict me of my own sin and deficiencies and drive me to follow him more ardently in every area of my life.

After a very long trip back to Ibadan, I prepared to return home to America for Christmas break. The flight back contained a divine appointment. The man who sat next to me on the plane just happened to have established two orphanages in Africa and was super informative. I told him of some of my dreams for the future and he promised to be a resource should I need him in the future.

Christmas break was amazing. It was filled with beautiful visits from close friends, fantastic time with family, and far too much delicious food. The time passed too quickly, and I can’t say that I was quite ready to return to Ibadan. But return, I must—not begrudgingly, mind you, but perhaps not jumping with excitement either.

Tomorrow will begin the school term. Kids will arrive, teachers will panic, and then everyone will get back into the swing of things. I’m really hoping my jet lag/potential sickness wears off real soon.  I am looking forward to seeing what God will do in the following six months here in Ibadan. I have no doubt that there will be many difficulties, many blessings, and that God will remain sovereign and faithful through them all. My prayer is simply that God uses every experience everyday to mold me more into His likeness and draw me deeper in love with Him.