Mission Trip 2012 Blog 3

Wednesday, March 7

• I found a pair of shoes for $75, but using the bargain ritual that is typical of buying and selling across Africa, we negotiated a $50 sales price for the Italian footwear. After the purchase I asked myself, “Why did I leave my dress shoes in Owensboro? Really?”
  
  
• On this special day I finally met Judy, my only sister, who appears to be having psychological or mental problems. However, she was stable enough to cook a dumboy (a version of fufu) meal for me, Pastor Isaac Dayugar, and Elder Martin Curlon. In addition to dumboy and pepper soup, Judy added palm butter with rice. She beamed with joy feeding us, seemingly enjoying something far more sumptuous than the delicious food she served us.
  
  
• Judy informed me of Aunt Bahnty, the oldest living matriarch of our paternal family tree. We agreed that Judy would meet Pastor Isaac and Pastor Moses Dean at ELWA junction around 10 AM on Thursday so, on our way to Buchanan, we can stop in Owensgrove and see Aunt Bahnty who is estimated to be about 125 years old. Dad used to tell us about his eldest sister, but I don't remember ever meeting her.

Thursday, March 8

• Patience Wallah, my niece, called early, saying Judy (her mother) packed up last night and left the house, telling them she was going to visit me at Rev. Luther Tarpeh's house where I am lodging. “Judy did not come here,” I told Patience. That's when I realize my sister is having mental issues, the same kind of problem that my mother and older (late) brother suffered on and off.
  
  
• I informed Pastors Isaac and Dean to not wait for Judy at ELWA junction, but move on to Rehab Junction, where I would be waiting. Patience called again; she got a call from Judy who had gone to Harbel, home to Firestone Rubber Plantation, a 45-minute drive from Monrovia. Upon calling the number that Judy called Patience from, I asked the lady on the line to tell my sister to walk to the nearest bus stop to wait for us so we could pick her up. Apparently, Judy did not get my message until we had long passed the spot where she should have been waiting. We had already reached Owensgrove, a young man had led me to the small, half-lit room of the house where Aunt Bahnty laid on a bed.
  
  
• In the Bassa language she asked who I was. Answering her in Bassa, I told her my name, “Moses son of Garswa Zawodogbo, your mother.” That's when she pulled herself away from the bed, sat up, and teared up. Upon hearing I have been living in America all these years, she wanted to know how long I would be visiting with her. I told her I would return to spend a day with her, but that we were going to Buchanan. Solemnly I walked back to the road and joined my colleagues, continuing the ride to Buchanan, which took two hours longer than it should due to the rough, unpaved portions of the semi-highway.
  
  
• The pitiful sight of Buchanan city echoed a strong reminder of Liberia's post-war condition. The main street in Buchanan is unpaved, and the primary mode of transportation is commercial motorcycles operated by youngsters. Pastors Isaac and Dean got on the back of one motorcycle, while I climbed aboard another, as the operators took us to the home of Edith Zeon, sister of Pastor Isaac. Our next stop was the Christian Revival Church, the venue of our Buchanan event scheduled for March 20 through March 22. To free up some morning hours for our team, we aim to begin the Salt Covenant Conference at 2 PM, followed by the dental clinic, with the revival service slated for 7 PM to 9 PM. The church building will need to be wired for electricity from a borrowed electric generator; if wiring the church is not cost-effective we will have to find another venue for the events.

• Next, we stopped by the Administrative Building of Buchanan, which houses the important offices: the Superintendent of Grand Bassa County; the City Mayor; the Religious Consultant Rev. Joseph Garber, the only one still in the non-electrified building. Rev. Garber expressed himself at length before we had something to say. He was elated that we treated his office with respect; he asked that we formally write him a letter, stating our mission in his city. Then he offered to pray with us before we left his office.
  
  
• I bought a pineapple from a street vendor, and as I paid her, we spotted Elder Tamba from Church For All in Monrovia. He drives for a shipping company, and frequents the Monrovia-Buchanan road. We rode with him to Edith's, ate pepper soup rice, and changed our plans from spending the night in Buchanan to returning to Monrovia, since we considered our business in Buchanan done. We arrived back in Monrovia around 7 PM. ~End Blog 3 ~