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I haven’t written in a while. It’s not like I haven’t had any time to write, because I’ve been to the internet cafe plenty times before this entry. I just don’t know what to say. I’ll open this “write post” page and sit and stare for a while. It’s even been hard for me to write email and stuff back to friends back home. I don’t know what to say, and I just kind of read emails and stare. I’ve responded a bit, but it’s been difficult to really know what to say or to just correspond for some reason.
I haven’t quite figured it out, but it’s been kind of difficult as of late. I’m not depressed or super anxious, but I’ve felt kind of detached from my life. Sounds weirdly existential huh? I’m here physically in Freetown but I don’t think I’ve been feeling very well. I’m not sure if that makes sense. Things don’t make me too sad or too happy, I’m just here, and it feels a bit numbing sometimes. I’m hoping to connect better in some way. I’m not sure if it’s particularly with people or God, but I think it’s about being present to where I am now.
On another note, I’ve been running out of underwear. A couple of my boxers have torn! I think I’ve been scrubbing them too hard when I handwash them. I wear boxers from Old Navy: size large. So, if you want to help a brother out, please send me some boxers! I’m not kidding. Feel free to laugh, but make sure you pay me back in boxers for my jokes. My mailing address is (please send packages in a padded envelope – NOT a box):
Benjamin Chan / Word Made Flesh
Box 545
Freetown, Sierra Leone
West Africa
Right now, I’m doing laundry twice a week because my boxer/underwear count doesn’t last the week. This also means that my underwear/boxers are wearing out faster because I’m washing them more. This means you should go to the Old Navy store real soon.
Hopefully we’ll get deeper soon and I’ll write something more than a plea for ‘drawls.
One of my goals while I’m here is to grow a greater empathy in regards to war. I feel say (“I think” in Krio) that I just don’t get it when it comes to war: the devastation of it, how it affects people deeply emotionally, how people suffer, what suffering from war means for young children, what it means when your house is blown up, what it means when you lose your family, what it means when there is peace. Maybe I’ll learn about God in the midst of war. It pains me that our nation has initiated comflict in Iraq, and I reallly don’t have much of a response ( positive or negative ) to it. I feel soulless to it.
I talked with Marvel a couple nights ago over some food I cooked for our community meal. We had our usual exchange in the evening: Howde Day ( How was your day?). She responded: I tell God Tanki ( I thank my God ). She was really tired because she had trouble coming home due to the Petrol shortage in Sierra Leone. Still, she was pretty excited because I brought home some Chinese food for her. I asked her last week if I could help her cook, and she responded: “You can help me by cooking some Chinese food for us sometime.” I laughed pretty hard. Her sense of humor seems to always catch me off guard.
The war is a strange topic for me to bring up in conversation here. Sometimes people bring it up right away. They are open to talking about it, and they catch me off guard by their openness. Sometimes, I find myself wishing that I never mentioned it because it still hurts. Sometimes I forget that the war only ended here four years ago ( in 2002). The silence in those conversations can be deafening.
Marvel told me that Sierra Leoneans are very very hospitable. They can actually be hospitable to a fault. Foreigners are treated almost better than locals, and people go out of there way to be friendly. She said that being a refugee in Guinea taught her a lot. In Guinea, they stood out because they didn’t speak French. People in Guinea aren’t like Sierra Leoneans, and she thought that it taught people who fled that SLeans can stand up for themselves.
She told me about the time when people here were voting for the new government. She told me how groups of rebels would threaten to kill people who would vote. People still went to the public places to vote. Rebels would fire shots in the air to scare people and they would stand and wait to, unafraid to die. During that time, she said that people would make jokes about the war. They would laugh about the rebels and make jokes that most people wouldn’t laugh about, but that’s how they coped. They had to laugh because not laughing was too sad.
My eyes see Freetown as it is, and not how it may have been before. I see burned out buildings, amputees (with arms or legs missing), piles of burning trash, and emptied out shells of vehicles. From my limited perspective, I see this as Freetown. But someone here said that this wasn’t how it always was. Life was different before the war, and the war really changed things. Again, I was humbled by my own assumptions. I’m a person who’s always grown up with peace. All I’ve ever known is peace. I’ve never lived during a time of war or conflict. War has occured but it shows up on a television screen or on the front page of Newsweek, not in a bullet lodged in my refrigerator.
War makes laughing a necessity. It makes friends and community needed. It makes family tighter. It makes people stand up for themselves. I feel say that I’m slowly beginning to learn that there’s something deeply beautiful within each person here. I feel say that it’s deep when people say: ‘I tell God Tanki.’
I’m not feeling to deep here. Here’s what a rough schedule of how life looks like here:
Monday/Wednesday/Friday: Volunteer at Lighthouse (in town), Lunch, Krio Language Lessons at the Percival House, (Tutor Noah’s kids at Kroo Bay ( haven’t started that yet but i’ll just put it in for now), Dinner at home with with the Zizer’s. Shower. Sleep.*
Tuesday: Worship/Devotion/Breakfast time with Word Made Flesh Community (Servant Team, Faye and Cami, Mindy and Joe), Time off.
Thursday: Day Off: Internet time! and I’m not sure what else.
Saturday: Laundry and stuff, Hoops with Lighthouse dudes at the Aberdeen house, Good News Club at Kroo Bay, Eat. Shower. Sleep.
Sunday: Church. Lunch with the Zizer Family. Maybe go to the beach to play Football** with the Lighthouse folk.
*Fridays are community nights with the Word Made Flesh Folks. So Dinner and fun together.
**Football means soccer for you Americans.
I’ll write more about those different activities in more detail: Lighthouse, Kroo Bay, Tutoring, Language Lessons, Hoops, Laundry, Church, Community, Showers, Sleep, Life with the Zizers. Yeah, that’s the syllabus.
Hear, O Lord and answer me, for I am poor and needy.
Guard my life, for I am devoted to you.
You are my God; save your servant who trusts in you.
Have mercy on me, O Lord, for I call to you all day long.
Bring joy to your servant, for to you, O Lord, I lift up my soul.
I’m starting to get things a little better. Krio Lessons ( the native language here) are helping, being here longer than a week helps, getting to know (more) people better helps too, but it’s never enough. Maybe that’s it though. Being here and being a foreigner in this land will be about how my efforts and ability will never be enough.
I’ve been thinking about that more. What it means to really be where you are. I feel like a lot’s been stripped away from my life, especially the luxuries and conveniences from living in the West. People say it a lot, but our stuff is good for hiding ourselves. DVDs, CDs, internet, TV, shopping, going places — You can get the picture. Again, I can’t deny that I miss wasting a whole bunch of time being on the internet, or buying and eating whatever I want whenever I want. Convenience. Comfort.
What does it mean to really be where you are? I think it’s something about community. I think it’s something about being simple and realizing that stuff can get in the way. I think it’s something about commitment to the present even if it’s really sad, or hurtful, or disappointing. It’s about taking off your shoes and sitting down on the ground to rest.
And the questions still remains. What does it mean to really be where I am. For me, it means trying to engage with people here, even though I don’t like looking into curious staring eyeballs, or hearing the same responses over and over again. I think it’s about expressing this to my new friends and teammates, and realizing that my community’s care is here for me. Maybe it’s about giving myself more grace to adjust and also asking God for more grace to adjust to things. I need to draw more, and look for the sunset, and stare at the trunks of those Elephant – looking trees.
I think I’m getting things better. Being here and being a foreigner in this land will be about how my efforts and ability will never be enough. But I’m hoping and trusting for God to be enough for me.
