Rucking

I love Rucking

Letsee, I don’t even remember which day this began. Well, CST, or Combat Survival Training, began whenever my leave ended, which was June 20^th, I think. There was something like a week of death by powerpoint from 0700 to 1600 everyday with a break for lunch. Pictures, slides, lectures, on radios, environments, procedures, shelters, lots and lots of stuff that just took a long time and seemed rather common sense. Or perhaps I read too much. Sorry if this note contains a lot about food, I’m still recovering from this whole thing and food was the number one thing on my mind the entire time pretty much. Anyways, after the briefings, we got a list of every specific item we had to have. We were only allowed these items and nothing else along. It was some 100 odd long, ranging from the issued sleeping bag to our ponchos all the way to a compass and snare wire. About half we owned already and half was issued to us, so it wasn’t hard to get it all together the night before we did our packing check off.

That only happened after we went to the newly constructed area next to the Academy shooting range. One day there we learned basic field medicine. The fire team I’m on, Arrow 9-2, is really really beyond compare awesome at treating shock…in our own special way…just hope you never have shock when we are around. The newly constructed area is the largest urban evasion lab in the Air Force, meaning it’s a miniature of all the important parts of a city shrunk down. There we learned how not to get seen, how to use the tunnels and cover and when to attempt to move about without getting caught, fun stuff like that. Really dirty. Oh, how to get over barbwire and walls, too, that was fun. I’ll be going back there in a couple weeks for urban combat training. Anyways. Packing checkoff thing. Everybody brings all their gear on the list down to the quad and as they say each item you hold it up and get checked off. Right off the bat but before the checking began I remembered I had left my large sheath knife on my bed when rucking up, so I booked it back for that. Good thing I did, it was the only thing I forgot. The check off took 3 hours, because many people were missing an item here or there, one guy on our team was missing a lot and kept having to run back. We packed everything specifically too, only certain things going into the rucks, like sleeping bags and clothes, while lots of the smaller stuff went into super specific pockets on our combat vests. Compass, whetstone, whistle, notepad, flagging tape, iodine tablets, iron match, so many things. Plus the water containers, consisting of a camelback, canteen and a three quart water bladder. Overall weight of ruck, vest, and filled water was around 67 pounds on average. How fun, neh? Stuck that on a truck and kept the vest and water. Got a huge dinner to calorie load, slept lots, up at 0500. Had breakfast at the same time as the new basics, hahaha, man, I can’t even describe the awesome good feelings seeing them here and being yelled at and stuff.

Morning, buses, not enough for all of us, got on a van and the only thing on the radio was Michael Jackson cause he’d just died. So I slept instead and woke up in the middle of the forest, Saylor Park, part of Pike National Forest. For training purposes, labeled “Woodlandistan.” Found our rucks somehow out of the couple hundred there, marched over to our new camp. Met our new cadre also. Immediate thing that was specified was bathrooms in the woods, girls walk one way, guys the other, pretty much. Went up a hill, learned how to set up fast and temporary signals and more permanent ones, just in case we were ever in need of rescue and what situation to use it in. Also gathered a bunch of wood called “squaw wood” cause that lights really easy cause it’s coated in “witches hair.” Tried some black ants while I was at it, they do taste like lemon drops. One of the cadre showed us some kaniknik, which is what the Indians used to smoke in peace pipes. We had a really good camp location, right next to a really clear running stream, with plenty of spots to fill up and also many bedding spots in the area. We saw other camp areas throughout our journey and ours was pretty darn swell. Learned how to get water to drink, how to get it without collecting tons of dirt and stuff and then how many iodine tablets to a liter to purify it (2 per liter) and then wait for 30 minutes to drink it. Unless it’s falling from the sky, then it’s ok to drink. Got out the iron matches, which are flints and strikers, and attempted to set fire to the squaw wood and witch hair. Striker wasn’t that good so I fished my US knife out of the sheath we had made for homework and used the awl on that, still no luck. Got a lovely blister on my thumb though from it. Even the cadre couldn’t get it, they said it was probably cause of the rain for the previous days had made it not work. They did get a fire going eventually using a different method. While that got hot made our shelters using parachute sections stretched tight and tied down. Some strange geometric name, snoid or something, nobody really knew, but hey, it was shelter.

Those completed hiked back up the hill to the main camp and obtained our dinner for the evening. It squawked and quacked all the way down. Well, the vegetables didn’t, but the rest did. Got back and there we learned how to kill our various animals. Three rabbits, a duck, a chicken and one angry goose. Rabbits a wack behind the ears or swung into a tree. Chickens a football hike between the legs. Duck and goose, heel on head and pull up on feet. At least in theory. As I was attempting to kill the goose using that method it was much stronger than the others, way more muscle. From somewhere, I don’t know where, suddenly, a SERE (Survival Evasion Resistance Escape) sergeant grabbed it from me and before I could say “goose” had slit its throat and had proceeded to stick his knife into the skull until it cracked. And off he walked and I didn’t see him again. Total shock and awe tactic there. Tied them up by their feet on racks and learned how to skin them. Sticking ones hands into a warm animal that had only been alive moments before is quite interesting. Never done it till then. Have to skin it without piercing the meat. Lots of feathers everywhere. Scooped out the organs, found the ones that were worth eating. By that time I had blood on my hands and ABUs, and while carefully handling the organs found a green one connected to one that was a rock hard the size of my palm, and then it popped and green bile went all over my hands and ABUs and added to the oh so delicious smells of the dead animals. Cut off all the meat, lots and lots of it on that goose. Cleaned myself up a bit, roasted some goose on a stick. Tough gamey but good. We cooked all the meat and made a stew also of most of the potatoes and what we didn’t finish we stuck in our “fridge.” Pretty much a hole in the ground covered by lots of sticks so no animals get in and it stays cool. Slept pretty well that night, lots of duff to pad the ground with to make it soft.

Next morning, up by 0600, got the fire started, heated the food up, then we took down our shelters and rucked up again. Land nav that day. I can’t really remember what else we did that day but it was long. Three legs, each longer and harder. I got the last leg and decided that our heading to get to the point and avoid the most peaks was straight up one hill and contour the rest of the way. Yeah right. It was 3 klicks of crazy hills and falling dead trees and heat. But there was a bagel at the end since we’d only had some potatoes for breakfast. Back to camp, learned another fire type, another shelter using ponchos. Also did some more of these things the airman in charge liked called rounds. Pretty much, go to the bottom of a hill, bout a quarter mile, get a log you probably can’t carry in one arm, and hike back up and deposit it in a pile at the top. We did several of these throughout the entire time to no identifiable purpose. Had to finish all our food by that night technically, so ate all the meat we could, heated up the stew and ate that. Sharpened our knives yet again, a constant task. Did our homework of making a spoon out of a stick by carving and using a hot coal. Mine was pretty decent, I had to fix a hole in it with tree sap but once it hardened it worked well. Good sleep. More rucking the next day, got to a place and prepared a lot of wood for another fire type. Tinder kindling and fuel, lots of each, each harder than the next. Got a canteen cup of hot rice, mayonnaise, tuna and sauerkraut. Way good by that point cause I was already getting hungry all the time because of only having three raw potato wedges for breakfast. Then we sat there, for hours upon hours. There was a rain storm and Willis and I sat in our ponchos collecting rain water and drinking it. During that time the airman burned all the wood he could find to keep the camp fire going, including our wood. So when it stopped raining we had no wood. We had to make more, again, annoying, but our fires started fast, especially with the addition of a Vaseline cotton ball. That completed, we sat around for two hours more cause we need dusk to start night navigation. Safety glasses on. Hat brim low. One strap on the ruck undone and grasped by the person behind us. Heading and go. Willis is awesome at contouring, even in the dark, because we rucked that 1 point whatever kilometer in the dark faster then we did the similar distance in the day. We were at some quarry, made our shelters on a hill. By this time I’d decided to go always with the one man poncho shelter because that made things easier for me and for the arrangement of everybody else. Two slices of some kind of amazing jerky and sleep.

Everything got stuffed in the rucks the next morning. And they gave us a MRE, for me cheese raviolis or something. We had to open it fast to make sure there was no dairy shake as those are insta-death or something these days. I saw that I had got my wish of having M&Ms, so I was quite happy. Crammed it in whatever space I could find in my ruck and off we set. Very long day. Watermelon peak, couldn’t see much. Had water from a puddle at the quarry earlier, wasn’t that chunky so I could drink it, plus I had got an orange so I stuck orange peel in and it made it much better. Next point was a meadow, and pure bloody murder for a straight shot, plus we needed more water. Longer route, but almost straight north then east and we hit a good creek, refilled and got to the meadow. Ate my crackers and dropped our rucks, headed up a nearby rocky mountain to do triangulation and signaling. Triangulation is pretty not that hard if you have a good compass. The signaling method was called “Fireballing.” We have signaling mirrors with a star shaped cutout in the middle, and a fireball appears in the center if you are doing it right while pointing it at what you want to signal. Very bright. Good stuff though. Back down to the packs and got our final leg of our route, pure brutal. Best path we saw was follow the creek for a bit down a drainage then go up a valley next to a mountain. We had no idea what we were getting into, but it was the only way. Played leapfrog with two or three other teams all the way there, one team resting while the other groups moved ahead, so on and so forth, unintentionally of course. Just resting and people kept getting hurt, it was hard terrain. That was when a tree took a bite out of my inner wrist, which you should be able to see in the pictures. Crazy uphill, but we all made it, somehow. And that night our survival cadre left us, saying it was ok to consume the entire MRE. But I didn’t, I wasn’t that hungry, had the main meal and napped until the Evasion sergeant called a meeting. They got us some water that night, but not much.

Next morning, everything packed, ready to go for Evasion. And then we sat there while the fire team leaders met the cadre and such. Got a nice tan. Repacked our rucks, we were allowed to take out anything dirty so laundry and then I rubbed stuff in the dirt to make it dirty. Cadre came and off we disappeared into the woods to learn how to play hide and seek with people who want to kill us, pretty much. Immediate action upon ground contact is collecting gear and running. Find a spot real fast to hide temporarily. Keep moving. Find a hole up spot, which is more permanent, affords good cover for you and allows a quick escape. Stick to the military crest, 1/3 down from the top and 2/3s up from the bottom. How to sneakily get water. We went to a point and just sat there for hours because our pickup time wasn’t until 2320 and it was only 1000. Learned about camo, for us and bags, How to move quietly. How to use a military GPS. Sat under ponchos and drank water and slept most of the time. That day was hard. All I’d had to eat was a spoon of peanut butter and was slowly eating a second one. Cadre gave us a little though, but my overall calorie intake that day was not above 300, the lowest the entire time, and I felt it. Lots of mosquitoes, annoying. And flys. And caterpillars. No books or cards allowed. Just occupied ourselves thinking about food, playing the alphabet game with it. I think it was this day that I wanted angel food cake with lots of whip cream and strawberry and also cupcakes. Everybody makes lists and eats through it when they get back. It is pretty crazy, going hungry and having nothing to do. Later walked closer to our point, hid our rucks and scouted out the camp by moving very stealthily. We even passed another group and they didn’t know. That done, back to the rucks. The cadre took the radio to contact base, so he walked off one way and next we know we see a huge tree that I couldn’t get my arms around shaking 30 degrees to each side. And our cadre runs back, hides behind a tree, then runs back to us. It was probably a bear, we all presumed. Knives, though useless if for real, were drawn, and a watch was set. The cadre went off in the other direction to find the final destination while we used his map to plan the next two days routes. Learned where camps and roads were on his map that weren’t on ours. Moved yet again to a spot 200 meters away from the final destination. Lay down half in a bush and half on a giant rock and fell asleep, I have no idea how. Woke up, everything was dark except I was lying in a pool of moonlight and I had no idea what was going on. But almost every group was in that clearing somewhere, I couldn’t see them but could hear them. When the moon went behind a tree I could see the clear night sky filled with stars and then I fell asleep again. Hour later woke up again and we moved in the dark, holding on to each other, no lights, rendezvous point and guys with guns popped out and rushed us up a hill and sat us down under a loose camo covering with everybody else and said “Get to sleep Americans.” Which we did. At this time my gut was starting to feel discontent, but I was still ok.

Morning again, early. Not often do I get awoken by the saying “AMERICANS!” in a gruff tone. Got another MRE that morning for the next two days. Got our new point, but we already knew where we were going so off we went. First hold up spot was close, to allow us to refill on water, purify and drink it and refill again, and get some food. It was at this point that my gut problem began, but luckily I was the one carrying the shovel. It became my good friend for the next few days. Kept moving, between 500 meters and 1 kilometer an hour max, and sitting in hold up spots in between for an hour minimum, one for 4 or 5 hours. It was hot. We stuck close to the main road though, thinking that nobody else would be crazy enough to attempt something like that because the odds of getting caught were higher. But we didn’t get seen. Used one of the aggressors camps as a way point to establish right where we were. I had to bury some clothes at one point cause of my gut problem, but we kept going. Had to stop every hour at the minimum for me to empty out my gut, it was bad. Good points, good rucking all day, lots of conversation, sleeping, laughing. Came up south of the recovery point, walked right through the group to get to where we had to put our signal. I was tired, almost didn’t see them. Which is amazing because the only thing our camo blends into out here is rocks…and most things are trees and bushes. Got rescued, saw a medic and got some meds to slow my gut up.

Up early again. Meds helped a little bit. A klick to water so that’s where we went. Got it and moved up the hill to purify it and eat. This day was dominated by a Denny’s Grand Slam in my mind. Our rucks were under our camo ponchos lower down, next to some rocks and bushes, while we were under better concealment higher up. Heard a group get caught on the other side of the valley upstream about 400 meters, then another group at 300, another at 100, then whoever caught them told his partner “Quiet, they know we’re coming.” See them cross the river, guy in a ruck with a rubber ducky AK-47. Aims it at a ruck and yells “Don’t move, stay down!” and pulls the poncho off. The look of confusion on his face cannot be put in words, but it was amazing. He yelled some expletives and said “What the heck, where are they?” Unfortunately he took a few more steps up the hill and was able to spot one of us and then we were caught. We had been close, and he said it’d been the best attempt among the groups he’d caught yet. Marked us down on our score card and gave us ten minutes to get out. We went up and over the hill and got on our heading. Found a nice rock, camoed up, slept a couple hours. Worked our way back up north the exact way we’d come down the day before, using the same aggressor camp as a waypoint. We could hear conversations and read the porta potties, that’s how close we were. Somehow got really close, within 200 meters of our point, with 2 hours to kill, when they advise staying 800 meters out until the last possible moment. So we sat there and watched other groups go in and get recovered. Finally, our turn, last, got across, ended up going to the wrong rock formation, got a heading over the radio but knew it was wrong so I walked one way while Brooks and Willis went the other, then saw the correct rock and went there and got recovered, this time by American forces. Set up a camp again and slept for 11 hours. It was good. Finished off all of my MRE food by then. The M&Ms and Skittles I got in my two MREs pretty much made it possible to get through two of those days, it was amazing. Morning, last bit of rucking to the pickup area, waiting around for the buses and trucks. More food alphabet game, more listing. Finalizing our plans to go eat when we got back and watch a movie. Listened to the radio on someones alarm clock they had to bring. Swapped stories. Loaded the trucks with our rucks when they got there, got on the buses, it was such an awesome feeling to get away and out. Say the other group not yet picked up on our way out and yelled at them. Crossing from gravel to tarmac road, everybody went ecstatic. Great feeling to get out. I was hungry, but my stomach had grown to expect only a little bit and later in the day, so it didn’t hurt anymore. We stank, it was really bad.

Got my ruck back at the Academy, got the dirty stuff, got the element together and got dad to pick us up. Dropped off laundry at home and got some brownies, since that was our element nickname cause three of us have the last name of Brown. Went to Famous  Dave’s and got two trashcan lids full of meat and other amazing food, and drank about a half gallon of Dr. Pepper and half gallon of water. I was feeling a lot better, gut wise, though not perfect. Others weren’t by that time. We ate way too much, but it was so good. They had said we would get a food high, and it’s pretty darn amazing. Feels like your head could fly away on it’s own in the clouds. And it lasts a long time. Went to the movies, saw Public Enemies, decent, drank a large coke there and still had not peed all day, my body was just absorbing all fluids. And it all tastes so good without the iodine. Wal Mart, got the cupcakes I wanted. Wendy’s after that for those still capable of eating, then back to the Academy via my dad and clean laundry. It was good good good. Next day was the 4^th of July. Went back out after some morning training, followed up the rumors about free food for military which were false but still got food anyways. Got bags of candy to throw at the basics. Showed Hernandez the mall. Back to the house, got Becca and Dad, headed up to the Academy for the show. The Academy was putting on a bigger show then before, was almost totally open, because the city wasn’t this year. Rain though was pouring, so it wasn’t too full, couple thousand though. Basics came out on the balcony after the rain went away and all of us with candy and burgers and pizzas and tacos and stuff rushed the wall, got past the cadre who were trying to stop us, and threw it all up there to the sound of cheers of joy. Pretty awesome to be on this side of the wall and throw candy rather then receive it. Lots of that happened through the night, good fireworks, good night overall, and my gut problem stopped and I’m almost better but I still get full off of one meal per day, like today, I had a baked potato and some strawberries and nothing else since lunch. Ah well. Resistance training begins tomorrow, meaning anti-interrogation and stuff like that, but I won’t be able to detail that at all. Interesting week of survival and evasion, not sure if I’m looking forward to doing it again in a couple years but hey, at least I’ll be prepared.

Cameroon

God was working even before we left. Well, of course He was doing that. But we saw it visibly. Besides being the most awesome week of my freshman year, yeah, it was pretty darn good. Hard to stay concentrated on school. Anyways. Friday several of us fasted. Haven’t done that before. Was hungry. We met and worshipped after noon meal formation instead of eating. That was good. Afternoon, picked my stuff from dad, did some final packing of sheets and all that. Met up with the guys from earlier and hit up Elephant Bar to break fast together. It was fun, fellowshipping like that. Goodwill was next on the list. Saw some toy cars by the checkout counter and was like, hey, lets buy a bunch a these, and so we got out a bunch, the guy behind us in line asked us why, we told him for a mission trip, and he said he would pay for it. Awesome! America is a pretty darn cool place that way. Grabbed our stuff and headed over to Garrett’s house, since it was offered and it was big. Watched movies, ate pizza, just hung out. Slept on the floor, but the carpet was awesome, so that was no problem. Early morning pickup, grabbed some snacks up in Castle Rock, airport checkin as a group went fine. Hit up the USO since we are all in the military. Hadn’t done that before. It’s a sweet place. Can watch the rest of the airport. Lots of cadets and other people were there too. Mucho interesno. Got on the first of many flights, this one headed to Dulles. Some reason with the fuel gauges delayed us, but we still got to Dulles in time, got right onto our next flight to Zurich. Window seat, little tv screen in the back of the seat in front, made it pretty good. Slept and watched Twilight. Brought back some interesting memories. When we got over France I just started watching out the window, watching Paris all lit up slide away beneath us and the sun rise and illuminate the clouds. As we got closer and closer to Zurich, I looked harder and harder for places I knew on the ground, through the clouds, using the mountains, roads and rivers as my reference point. The Black Forest is a beautiful place to fly over, almost as amazing as it is to be on the ground.

            Zurich for 5 and a bit hours. Expensive airport, not much to do, not much for food, and we weren’t allowed out. Slept, read some more of I am America (and so Can You!), BK, music, all that jazz. Next flight, Swiss. Quite the stuff. Nice plane, nice amount of room. Was flying with Garrett next to me. Watched Madagascar II while getting excellent service. Music, no nap though, cause I was trying to adjust to the time better. The last hour was beautiful. African sunset over the clouds. A beautiful glowing orange fading into the stars above us. It eventually became part of a greater drama, that of the thunderheads. Big ones, right off the wing. Miles high and filled with crackling yearning lightening, all framed by the glow of the sun. We passed it by, and it was dark on the other side. Most of Duoala was dark as we approached, some parts lit, no clear city center or road organization from the sky. Beautiful soft landing, quick to the gate, they opened the doors and in came Africa. The warmth, the humidity, the smells. Walking, though we were all tired, it was so exciting. Booth for yellow fever card, showed that. Booth for passport and visa, showed that. Brian took a picture, used the flash, and an official came over and harassed him for a bit. Finally got out to the baggage claim. One part seemed to deliver only the luggage of someone moving there or something, perhaps working for something like National Geographic, what with all the photographic equipment they had. Ours came in, or started, and then the power went out. But it came back on shortly. Got all our bags, got out, almost got taxis cause the bus wasn’t there, bus showed up, had to get out of the taxis. It was hot and humid, and it was only 8 at night. The bus kinda reminded me of the Vaus, but shorter. Course, this team isn’t is big as that one and thus does not require such a bus. Got to the YWAM base while driving through an intermittently dark city. The roads are pretty bad, most not paved, just stones and hard dirt, but everybody here knows how to drive it. It’s like the roads in eastern Kyrgyzstan or in Mazar-i-Sharif.

            The power was off at the YWAM base when we arrived. Offloaded and dinner was waiting. Got a basic orientation, basic introductions, and learned how to play Mafia Uno. We were tired, but since the time was all funny for us, not enough to go to sleep. Hung mosquito nets. Heard about the next day. It was hot and humid. Sweating a lot. An interesting conversation happened during introductions, about how if we were able to tell black people apart, and if they were able to tell white people apart, and experiences we’ve had with that sort of thing. One of the guys later came up to me and was like “You are not like the rest of them, you are, how do you say, asian?” Observant guy, made me smile. Got to sleep eventually. Woke up in the middle of the night to a huge thunderstorm, thought the window was leaking so I pulled all my bags  up onto the bed and went to sleep. Got woken up half an hour before it was time for anything, took a quick shower, ate a quick breakfast. Excellent bananas over here. Worship time, learned some cool African English worship songs from Tanita. Talked a little bit more about plans. Headed out to the “Le Cyber Café” to email our parents and all that we had made it and were fine. Interesting keyboards they had. Switched a lot of letters. It almost seemed like a French+Dvorak layout. Who knows, maybe it was. It just made things interesting to type and still be fast. Bought some water in the sun. Another guy and I have the same Jack-Bag, kinda dressed the same, kind of looked more military then the rest of the group. Oops. I’ve become the person that I used to follow on Walking Street/Broadway, haha. Lots of interesting smells. Some good, some bad. Gasoline and fruit. Dead rotting somethings in the ditches. Water that’s been filled with garbage and let out for a long time. People. A meal when we got back, then more planning, more going over the schedule for tomorrow and tonight and such. Lots of people kept falling asleep, so cat naps were taken afterwards.

            More detailed orientation followed after that, led by Abel, the local head of the YWAM base. He explained how Cameroon has over 200 tribes residing within it, and so a way to act with all of them cannot be standardized. The North is generally more educated, more friendly, easier to get along with. We were going to a northern tribes womans house that night, so he told us the does and don’ts. Nothing too hard, which was nice. Headed out, nice hat that I got for this trip on my head, Jack-Sack on.  Got to the Motos! Haha, fun stuff. Motorcycles. We had to get on them to get where we were going, since it’s the cheapest, fastest and most direct. Plus awesome fun. Get two people on the back. I videotaped the whole way. The breeze felt awesome, not to mention the craziness it felt to be on the back of a fast motorcycle on bad roads and just be laughing. Arrived at Mama Sarahs house. She has 7 of her own kids and takes care of 4 more, so she’s got a full house. Power was out. We sat and talked, though only two of us and then Abel speak French, so it takes a while. Dinner. Interesting thing, the host/hostess and family do not eat with the guests. It’s more polite that way or something. Anyways, rice, gumbo, maize, good food. Hot and muggy air. Good Coke, good fanta. Hung out with the kids, played some soccer juggling, name introduction, all fun and happy. As it got dark, we headed out, back to the motos. This time it wasn’t as easy to get them, and then one only would take one of us, so I got to ride alone in the fading darkness on a speeding cycle on rough roads as he raced other vehicles. A long planning session followed that, with an interesting hyper African girl wandering around and the TV having some guy casting out demons or something. Finished that, played some Mafia Uno, came to do this. Breakfast duty in the morning, so gotta get up early. My cell phone automatically adjusted to the time, so I actually didn’t have to set an alarm, just turn the volume on, since my Academy alarm is already programmed in. Tomorrow we work all day with the street kids, though they are rather organized, it seems. Anyways, more tomorrow.

Day Two: The Street Kids

It was hot again during the night. Kept killing mosquitos inside my net, which is annoying. Woke up at 6:20 because I had breakfast duty. Set the tables, stuff like that. They asked me if I knew how to cut pineapple, but that is one skill I have yet to learn. Had bread with nutella like stuff, and found some excellent Cameroonian instant chocolate mix. Way better then Nesquik. Cleaned up, did dishes, prepared for the day ahead. We had bags of clothes and other items, to give away and for games. The bus appeared, and we loaded it up. Trying to get to a main road was fun. It reminded me of Mogadishu from Black Hawk Down, except without all the burning tires and hostile forces. We just kept driving past road after road, but each one was impassable in its own way, whether through plumbing fixes or workshops. Eventually we found our way through and onto the main roads so as to get across town to the Aqua Stadium. Past the airport, got to see a little bit more of the city that is so much bigger then it feels like. 6 million people, yet it doesn’t feel like that at all.

            Pulled into the stadium. Nice and hot, but luckily there was a lot of cloud cover, so no direct painful sun. Unloaded, and a couple of the leaders of the street kids appeared. These guys were big, older then me, and they took us to what used to be an announcers tower for the soccer field, next to the stands. Dropped our stuff off there, started to get to know the people, or at least their names, as more of them showed up. First were mainly members of the council, older bigger guys, dressed a bit better, perhaps more successful in the street business. The way the greeting went was a fist bump with the right hand, then bring it up to your heart. A gang greet. Though I did hear Bob Marley mentioned. More kept coming, and not many of them could really be defined as kids. The leader, Oliver, showed up, was clearly in charge, dressed better and everybody looked to him. Another guy that stuck out in my memory was this, oh, 6’5” guy, dressed all in white, known as Jordan, as in, Michael Jordan. And he liked basketball, no surprise.

            Broke out some of the game equipment. Wiffle balls and a bat for it, couple of soccer balls, couple of Frisbees, an American football. Games began, or at least, began to be taught. These guys were serious, not yet smiling, trying to figure us out. A game of wet duck duck goose began, and as everybody began to laugh from the hilarity of it, more smiles broke out, the times became better and looser. It was fun seeing people that had never held baseball bats try and hit a ball. They eventually began to pick it up. Football also took some time to catch on. They couldn’t catch, couldn’t throw, couldn’t figure it out. But it too turned into a good game of monkey in the middle/keep away, with good throws. People were enjoying themselves, and that was good. One of the teams, Brady, pulled out his video camera and a bunch of the guys rapped for him. I fixed a guys crutch with medical tape. Conversations were struck around, and were interesting to listen to, about how these guys ended up on the streets and all the struggles associated with it. One of the conversations turned to how we viewed Cameroon. How it was different then what we expected. They were like, hey, people don’t expect Africa to be as developed as it is, they still think of it as dark and backwards. Common, we have every type of vehicle. And next it went into a conversation asking if we could tell them apart, if they could tell us apart, if anybody could tell Asians apart. Both side said yes for the others, and I had to pop in for the Asians, that I could tell them apart. And they went, but hey man, you are Asian also, you can see that, to us, they are all Chinese. Made me laugh. Talked about how the Chinese are bringing their goods to Cameroon, to a lot of the world, the stuff that never makes it to America, that is crap quality, falls apart in a week and is sold for dirt cheap. It’s messing with the economy of Cameroon, because the Chinese are underselling the locals by a lot for much less quality goods. The shoes, for example, are called bombs, because they fall apart really fast. One of the guys got into more conversation with me as we waited for lunch to arrive.

            He became homeless in 99. It wasn’t his choice, his father died and fighting ensued among his family for the estate, and since he was the first born son, he was the rightful heir, but he was too young, and was cast out. Lived on the street, figured out how to live. Began to be successful. Got a house, got stuff. When the strikes swept across Cameroon a year ago, he was taken and put in prison for a year. There he suffered. When he came out, a “friend” had taken all his stuff and house and sold it, so he was back to having only what was on his back. He works at a car wash. He’s trying to get enough to get a room so that he can get a better job, in business. Eventually he wants a motorcycle so he can start a moto taxi and have success. Be able to care for his little sisters. Get enough to travel to America, the land of hope. Interesting and good how America is still viewed as that. People keep mentioning Obama too.

            Lunch arrived, and we began our more planned program. Talked, translated into French, talked, continued cycle. We said we were going to wash their feet, just as Jesus did. They were so shocked, so surprised. Never had anyone done that for them. Never had a white person ever done anything like that for them. They lined up so fast. And as that finished we served instant punch drink and gave out these meat-tomato sandwiches. We had planned for 200, only about 40 came, but they ate it all, drank us dry. They were so happy to be full. They sang to us, what I assume is some type of worship song in French. We gave them a message about how even if the world values them less, they are princes in Gods eyes. That that will never be taken from them. Others performed the parable of the lost son. Brian and I got the basic med station up and running, cleaning and bandaging wounds as best we could with what we had and what we knew. They loved that, being cared for. They wanted all our emails, and they kept asking for prayer too. Time became really tight all of a sudden, we don’t know why, but we broke out our bags of clothing. One guy, I remember, since I had just finished bandaging him up and he had been saying “Inshallah,” got a pair of cleats and was so excited. Running around yipping and jumping and smiling. Fell to the ground in amazement, kept shouting in French. We gave out a lot of what we brought. And we gave them the shirts off our backs, the shoes off our feet, or at least several of us did. We were wearing our team shirts, but we gave them up and went around shirtless. We traded our shoes and sandals for theirs, so that they could run better or play basketball better, as the guy who got my shoes thought they would do. It was fun, trying to get out of there, on the bus, with pictures being thrown in and all. Jammed the bus full, guys got on top. We were taking Jordan, the big bball guy, a guy named Prince, and another few. They came to see the YWAM base, to see about joining a DTS. It was cool to see that, their interest beyond survival.

            Saw a Cameroonian C-130 on the way back. Got back ok, without the road troubles. We were tired, lunch was ready when we got back. Took a nap afterwards while waiting for the shower. Finished I am America (and so Can You!). Woke up for team time with Tinita. Talked about the day, what went well, what could have been better, how it all went down, memories. I remember the happiness, the smiles, as they got more used to us, as we made their day amazing. Others remembered conversations or people or sport events. The amazement at the foot washing. Even though it kind of descended into chaos in the last few minutes, it still went well, they will remember us. We set out to open doors for future missions. It felt like we kicked this one wide open. They were amazed that we would come and do such a thing for them, serve them, and even more so when somehow they found out that we were in the military. Blew their minds sorta dealio. For dinner, had spaghetti omlet interesting things, but good. The YWAM base is so interesting, everybody is so willing and happy, even if tired or whatever. I’ll describe the physical base later. It’s good, at  least humor wise, that we are all from the Academy, because we keep coming up with strange comparisons to basic or Recognition in lives or stuff here, or just be able to laugh about now that we can.

            Today, compared to yesterday, I saw the same pride, in the country. That’s a good thing, to have pride in their country. To know it is on the route to success, or has the chance at it. There is hope for it. They have pride in their soccer team, which is really good. Multiple times champions of the Africa Cup, Olympics 2000. Good stuff, this pride they have. I’ve been searching for why they have hope, or first, what hope they have. What drives them. I’m not sure if I’ve found it, if I will find it in this short time. Meeting so many people from so many backgrounds, it makes a wider survey possible, but not much depth. I can’t judge how they want to live, how they have hope based upon looks of how they dress or their buildings or how they treat each other and the country. There is corruption unbalancing everything, and lack of infrastructure, lack of organization. It makes it impossible to judge from a westerners eyes. The trash on the street, it could be because they have no hope. Or perhaps there is nowhere else to put it, no way to get rid of it. I don’t know. Hopefully I’ll learn more tomorrow as we go to hospitals and homes, meet more people in more situations. It’s hot tonight, it’s gonna be hot tomorrow. Another country came to mind today for equating this place, at least feel of the air and smell. Thailand, maybe near Krabi, or up north. I can’t distinguish. I’m enjoying this trip though. I had expectations, and I see that they won’t all come about, but it is good in its own way. Africa, you can’t really place expectations on it. It isn’t as heart wrenching as Rwanda yet, but there are other needs just as dire. Tomorrow, more will come about.

Day Three: Intercession, the Hospital and Houses

            It actually wasn’t that hot when I woke up. Felt the chilliest it had been seen I’d been here, lots of cloud cover. Nice. Breakfast of tasty fruit. Talked about the day ahead. Who was going to do what. Who was digging up the pipe and replacing it, who was going to which part of the hospital, and who was going to which house and church earlier that night, stuff like that.

            Next came intercession. I guess it might be a YWAM thing, or maybe something I just missed somewhere. Anyways, it was like how we decided, or rather, obtained, the location for this trip. Praying to God and listening for what He tells us. Interesting hearing French and English at the same time. Images came to people of need for strength. To pray that the witch-type woman across the street could be brought to God. That the glory of God be brought, through the image of the throne. People found Bible verses. I think I saw the words glory and war, separately. I’m still not sure what they mean. After that, we prayed over each specific item, overlapping prayers ending in one strong voice. We then prayed for each staff member, asking God for blessing upon them, to show His light through them, that they can be His servants. Also we prayed for the base, to be a beacon and successful and expand to fulfill the dream they have for it. It might be the poorest base in all of YWAM, but they are satisfied, they do their best, all in accordance with Gods will. An interesting point came up after the prayer, the leader, Abel, told us about there have been multiple prophecies about the wrath of God coming to Cameroon, a great war, with many dead, and that hopefully through evangelism the tide can be turned to God and the war averted. I hope so too.

            We left shortly afterwards to the hospital, those that were going. We left Brian and Garrett hauling dark dirty water from a deep hole in the ground to elsewhere so that they could repair the drainage pipe that was not doing its job. Across the city we drove, this time in taxis. Got to the hospital, were let on the grounds. Divided into teams. It was said that inside the hospital was extremely hot due to no AC or fans, so I didn’t volunteer for that. Instead, several of us went to the HIV ward, which is more like a waiting area for them to receive their pharmaceutical needs. They get there at 6 in the morning and sit there until called. Crazy stuff. All women, some with kids. Tinita spoke to one who spoke English, while Zac and a YWAM worker talked/translated back and forth in dialogue with a bunch of women who believed Jesus had existed, but did not believe in Him. I moved from conversation to conversation, unable to say much because they were already well established. Michael was using his basic French to converse with a little boy, using a copy of the Gospel of John. We also gave out French copies of John to the women until we ran out. We prayed for a woman as she had to leave, and as we finished the group of women being talked to by Zac began to pray too. One of the woman asked me to marry her and take her to America, but I told her my university didn’t let me. Continued to talk until the rest of the team came from inside the hospital and headed back.

            Back at the base, we talked more about the evening. Lunch was also set out. Banana soup and mangos. The banana soup, most excellent, green type bananas boiled with fish and stuff. Really good. So were the mangos. That goes my spiel about food. More jokes and conversation ensued and made the time fly, talking about raccoons and practical jokes at the Academy, questions about “If you could be Superman or Batman, who would you be?” type genre, and funny stories. Good times. A confusion about who was going to which house was figured out, and even though not all of us had to wear our nice clothes, we all did. Got on the motos again! So fun. Again with Tinita, but I couldn’t hear anything she said. Crossing one of the bigger intersections, things got hairy cause the driver thought we had to turn then realized not, but there were motos and taxis coming at us from all sides, but we avoided all scrapes and I just kept laughing. Kept on driving until we got to the stopping place. Well duh, the stopping place. It seemed like a poorer area, or maybe older. Seemed more shack like, more dark sewer infested dirt. And it was baking by this time of day. Half the group split off and went to a Cameroonians named Jacobs, while the rest of us continued on a few blocks to the house of Ezekiel. Passed a mosque on the way, first one I’ve seen.

            Arrived at the house. Had fingers crossed for power being on, so that there would be a fan. There was power, there  was a fan, but the fan was on its last leg and barely did anything. But we took the heat and enjoyed ourselves. Ezekiel was not yet back from work, so his wife and children entertained us. Cute baby boy, cute little girl. The wife is the spitting image, in looks and mannerisms, of Heather Hamilton, except African. Or at least that’s the impression I got. Anyways. Brought out dinner, this interesting berry drink. We asked her questions about her life, just conversational stuff like that, going through the translation of Abel back and forth. Sometimes she needed time to think or didn’t know how to answer, so she would clear plates and cups and then bring in yet another set of different foods. Amazing stuff, this generosity and hospitality of people who in my eyes seem to be living in dire poverty, yet willing to open their home to their brothers and sisters in Christ and give them everything. Found out that she was the 15^th of 19 children. That she had grown up in a city in the north and then moved down to Douala with her husband and family. That she had wanted to grow up to be a seamstress, but became a mother instead. She brought out an interesting peanut kasha type deal that was burning hot. And this thing called soya, which was like shaslik but not on sticks and so much much better, and giant donut balls and such. Amazing hospitality. Then her husband, Ezekiel, arrived.

            He came fully dressed in a suit, shook all our hands, apologized about being unable to leave work sooner. Ezekiel was beaming to see us. It was a smile full of joy that made it impossible to not smile, even as we suffered in the heat. My sweat by this time, while just sitting, had reached my bellybutton. It was hot. He came back out and conversation was struck immediately, him using the best English he could muster to get good practice and then using Abel or Joe when he couldn’t figure out how to say it in English. We asked him some of the same questions that we had asked his wife, like three things he loved about her, his family, the heat, stuff like that. Small talk as we got used to talking. He found out about us, where we were from, our names. Then came his testimony.

            Wow. That’s all I can use to describe it. He is a very strong Christian. The most important thing to him is faith. It guides his life, his everything. His brother lay dying in the hospital many years ago, and told them all that Heaven was very beautiful and he would be waiting for all of them there. The drive to get to Heaven, to see that beauty, to see his brother again, and knowing that his brother and friends who were up there were waiting and watching him, that drives him to get there. To do his God appointed job on earth. He established his character, his honesty, his Christian values, became known for them. His Muslim bosses, twice, chose him over all others, forsaking religious and tribal ties, because they saw his character and honesty so much. And he was only strengthened by the hardships of life. They had one child, their girl, but then lost the next couple of others through stillbirth or just infant death. He became sick, and the doctors told him that the chances he would ever have another child had just zeroed. But he and his wife had faith, kept praying, had pastors pray, and within a month they were pregnant, and the boy was born fine and healthy and continues to be so. God blessed them because they had faith, protected them. And they are working at bringing his Muslim boss to Jesus, though Satan is trying hard to stop it. They had it all ready once before, but a storm came up and prevented her from coming, and then her house caught on fire, and the opportunity passed, and so they moved to Douala when she asked him to be her personal secretary for his character, and they are praying that another opportunity will come soon. It was awesome, seeing his zeal, his faith, his hope. His love for his family and wife and Jesus, and even us. He said he would always try and remember the conversations we had, where we were sitting and what we looked like, until we meet again in this life or the next. He asked us why were not yet married, and that we could not leave Cameroon until we had found a suitable bride. That struck up other interesting points of the conversation, mainly about Tinita, but all good.

            We had to leave in order to try and meet up with the rest of the team as they left the church where they were preaching at. So Ezekiel and his family walked us back. In an effort to remember us more, we all got a picture together at a photosalon. It was fun, must have made an interesting picture, at least to Africans, to have a bunch of white people pouring sweat along with some Africans and a sweat soaked Asian. We caught  some motos, and this time I could hear Tinita as we drove back. Course, it might have been the road, or all the food I just ate, but the tire kept scraping the body of the motorcycle underneath where I sat. Driving in the darkness on the back of a moto is fun. Tinita and I talked about crazy driving, why people did it, stuff like that, the motivation of certain countries and why the rules would never work in Cameroon. Also talked about the awkwardness of watching movies or shows with parents in comparison to friends. Got back, met up with the team just as they were leaving the church, shook the hands of many Cameroonians as they left. Our guy had given a smashing speech, was amazing at preaching. Hopefully I’ll get to see the video. Walked back, talked about the day. Took a quick shower, more like a rinse. The shower is amazing here. Jump in, it’s cold, rinse off, turn it off, soap up, then rinse it all off fast as you can hopefully before the water runs out. Feels amazing, even if you start sweating again the instant you get out of the bathroom. It’s nice to be able to run your hand along legs or arms and not feel an inch of grease and dirt on them. Not that it is literally an inch. Couple of us, me included, have been bit by mosquitoes. Annoying. Somehow they get through our nets and insect repellant and bite us on our joints. Why our joints? Who knows, maybe it is easier to get blood that way. But my hands and elbows are covered with bites now, luckily have anti itch cream and natural aloe vera growing here, so the pain goes away quite quickly. Man, this time has flown. Wish it was longer, that we could do more. Tomorrow is our “experience Cameroonian culture more” by visiting another city day. Going to Limbe. Has the beach, cool architecture, supposedly one of the best zoos in all of Africa. Gonna be sweet stuff. I need to get my hands on some sugar cane. Maybe this will help some more with figuring out the Cameroonian culture, their ways and thoughts, their hopes and fears and dreams, without actually becoming one of them.

Day Four: Beach

            I’m sitting underneath my mosquito net trying to spot any that got in so that I can kill them before they bite me in the night. Though I know I will get bit anyways. The treatment works ok though, go out and pick an aloe vera leaf and split it and rub the juice on all, err, infected areas, and the pain and urge to itch are gone, and the swelling goes not far behind. Time has gone by too quickly. I will not be sad to leave the mosquitos, but I think for everything else I will be. Even more so depending upon what happens to Cameroon in the future. I think it was a year ago when I wake up that I will have arrived in Africa for the first time. Pretty cool stuff. To today, however.

            I woke up too early. I thought breakfast was a half hour before it was. So I sat in the cool morning, underneath the clouds. Had a tasty breakfast of avocados, the bus arrived, and we boarded it to head to the coastal town of Limbe. Pronounced limb-bae. Yeah, it doesn’t matter, but it sounds interesting. Nobody could tell us the exact distance to it. We drove, past the port part of Douala. There is an Italian destroyer docked there, for reasons who knows why, along with a bunch of other ships, like tankers and cargo. Crossed the Douala river and pulled into a market/bazaar type area, for reasons unbeknowest. The driver had to get a permit or something to go out of the Douala region and into the Limbe region. Got that, kept driving. It all went rather well actually, having the nice breeze through the windows to cool us down, and playing the movie game while staring at beautifuler and beautifuler jungle the farther we got from Douala. And then we hit the last checkpoint.

            We’d passed a lot of these checkpoints on the way. Policemen with guns and a handheld spike strip, whistling randomly at passing cars and perhaps pulling one over from time to time. Whenever they seemed to whistle at our bus, our driver ignored it. This last one though, we got stopped at. The driver produced the permit, but it wasn’t sufficient or something. The two local YWAM workers with us got out and began to talk with the policemen on the side of the road, calling people and such. It took awhile, and it was getting hot again. We speculated and joked about what was happening, examined the contents of each others passports. Mine is so boring now since it is new and only has the Cameroon visa in it. The upperclassmen also commented on how the policemen needed to be taught how to wear their berets properly.

            They came and looked over our passports, looked at our faces. It kinda reminded me of the random stops in Central Asia. Cameroon has the reputation of being the most corrupt country in the world, so it would be no surprise if we were just being pulled over for a bribe. The policeman came to the back window where Garrett and I were sitting and began to question us. We think. He said he was speaking English, that part we understood. But he spoke fast and with an interesting thick accent. He asked what our profession was, we said student, why were we here, the beach and missions. Are we in the army? Do we have any military training? Interesting questions to answer, yeah, didn’t know the proper response off the cuff. But he let us through after deciding we were harmless or something. And we drove to the beach, or rather, a hotel on the beach. Passed some cool stalls selling glazed turtle shells or something, but weren’t able to stop.

            Paid the hotel pretty much a parking fee per person so that we could get to the beach. Exciting! Some of the guys had never swum in/seen the Atlantic, or any ocean, so that was fun to see and experience. Our drivers and local YWAMers got in too. Black volcanic sand, since Mount Cameroon, an active volcano, is only 30 or so miles away, it could be presumed that this sand came from its actions or its relations. It felt really good to have wet sand between the toes. The verdant green life came right down to the waters edge and leaned over into it, over it. There was other white people too, haha. Swam for an hour or so. Good waves. Body surfed, talked, floated, swam. Lost my contacts, but hey, it’s time to change them anyways. I’ll do that when I get back to the US. Brady lost his glasses, which wasn’t that great. He had never swam in the ocean before, so didn’t know how to handle waves, and they surprised him. Zac talked to some LDS people on the beach the entire time we were in the water. Eventually decided to get out and get some lunch. It rained while we did. Talked about youth hostel systems and cool place to go and see in Thailand and Europe, places a couple of us had been and could relate to. Fun. I liked that a lot. A few more minutes were allowed for swimming afterwards. I didn’t get in, but I did take my shirt off to do handstands and stuff. That’s when it happened, or began to happen. The collar of my shirt began to rip off in the back. And not just any shirt. The Not Groomed Today shirt. It was on its last wear. So sad. I’m gonna have to make another one. I’ve had that, well, for a long time, whenever Karl gave it to me back the first time we were in the States. Also did some horizontals on some vertical bars that were handy. There was a sand war going on in the background too between the guys in the water.

            Loaded back aboard the bus. The Jack-Sack is handy. Able to carry a lot of peoples stuff and other random items. Tried to take pictures of Mount Cameroon. We were supposedly trying to get to Limbe proper to see the town and maybe buy souvenirs. But the bus driver insisted it was too far and wouldn’t take us. Cop out. So we drove back to Douala. And there we did spot a souvenir bazaar. Perfect tourist trap. Indeed, we saw more white people there, shopping. Lots of masks, other items, and high prices. Nothing seemed specifically Cameroonian, just African. Walked through, wasn’t interested in a mask cause I already have one at home. Found some cool bowls, some cool material and other crafts, but the prices were so high. That, and we had 15 minutes to get in, find, bargain and buy. Bought what I could bargain for well enough. It was hot in there, so I got out quick. Nice and cool outside. Loaded the van, stopped at a bakery to pick up a small dessert for a YWAMers bday, and got back to base. It was a good day. I don’t think I got sunburned either, which was awesome. Warm water, but still cooler then the air. Rest. Get away. See more beautiful Cameroon. Relax. Back to base, dinner, celebrated his birthday. Huge rainstorm came in, was pretty darn cool site to see a wall of water smashing into the ground. Worship, bible study, final planning for the last days events. Time has gone by so fast. Have one last clean shirt, one pair of pants, saving it for the plane ride back. Yep yep, man, this went by too fast. Can’t believe school again, but it will be over soon. And today helped with understanding Cameroonians and Cameroon, in its own little ways.

Friday: The Final Day

It was hot. No duh. Woke up, and we had breakfast and team time. Prepared to go to the orphanage. We had no info really about it. And they didn’t know we were coming. We were hoping that it really would be young kids, not like the “street kids.” We had all the clothes for the kids, and a bunch of hot wheels and mini beach balls. When the bus didn’t show up because he was unhappy about not being employed to take us to Limbe, we all piled into taxis. Three of them. For 18 of us. It was a hot day, did I mention that? There were two up front, sitting on each others laps. Then three in the back. And then we had Thomas laying across us with his feet hanging out one of the windows. And we began to drive. It was a long drive. The orphanage was on the other side of town, or somewhere out there, something like 45 minutes away. But it was one of the funnest rides I’ve had. The conversations were just so funny and awesome and random.

Pulled in after being covered in sweat and the crazy journey. It was midday. And we didn’t have much water. We walked into the orphanage, and they immediately took it in step. It seemed like they knew we were coming. They organized the kids and they sang worship songs for 10 minutes to us. And we broke out our guitar and sang songs with them too, teaching them some. One we were actually going to teach them they had sung to us. But taught them “God is so big” and Tanita came up with some crazy song about bananas of the world uniting. Scary, crazy, and funny at the same time. We then took them outside and started handing out soccer balls, Frisbees and the mini beach balls. They were so happy to have them. They threw them around, kicked them. Games began, despite it being so hot. The girls who weren’t interested had a beauty salon station for them, where they could get their faces or nails painted, or something with beads. It looked like they loved that. The rest were eventually organized into a game of freeze tag. A little girl came up to me and was just hanging on to my pocket, so I got a beach ball and we kicked it around for forever. It was cute. Especially seeing her smile every time she tried to smash away at the beach ball and it only went a few feet. Gave out chocolate and the hot wheels later, after we started feeling the effects of not enough water and way super hot sun. It was probably the hottest day we’d had. They loved the hot wheels too. It was a really good orphanage. Sad to leave.

            It wasn’t as crowded on the way back, since some of the locals didn’t journey back with us. A few minutes into our return though we hear a bang and there is dust and smoke from our back right tire. The other taxis pull into a nearby gas station while we get out. These taxi drives could work for NASCAR. They got that tire off and a new one on so stinking fast. And just used handpowered jacks and stuff. We were thoroughly impressed. Everybody at the station was getting cokes in glass bottles. Interesting how it tastes so good out of glass bottles. And cold. It set the tone for the conversation for the rest of the day, talking about how we were gonna see who could drink the most coke on the flights back. Got back to base. Good lunch. Had an hour before we had our next thing. Finished reading my book. Talked. Drank water.

            We organized ourselves into 4 teams, armed with invitations. The invitations were for community night that night, a time of worship and stuff like that. We set off into different directions. It was interesting. It seems that in Douala people don’t know their neighbors. Something about it being such a conglomeration of tribes or bad luck. Or both. Anyways, first we went to the people right next door. She invited us in, despite needing to leave for school. And she listened. Until the need to leave for school became too dire. But she accepted the invitation, though we didn’t see her that night. Next headed over to another house. I think we invited them too. Couple houses we only got kids, and couldn’t do anything with that, because tradition and respect dictate that you can’t evangelize children without the parents permission. We ended up at one womans house. She had accepted Jesus a few weeks before we came. She had been attacked by an owl as a child and had been afflicted with pain in her back ever since. Also she was being beat by her husband. She had shuffled out and looked no good at all, and only spoke in a whisper. Our prayers seemed to lift her a bit, and she too said she would come that night. Our next stop was a local pastor who was sick. He had felt bad and went and got some pills to relieve the pain, but they were expired or bad in some sort and just made it worse. We prayed for him too, and it helped. It was amazing to see his joy just on seeing us, and his thankfulness and joy for our simple prayers and visit. After that, we had to go back to base for a quick dinner and cleanup, because community night started at 7.

            Community night went well. I missed part of it because I was still doing dishes. And then as a sign we stuck us white people outside the gate so that people could see us and know where to go. So I missed part of the worship. But it was good, sitting out there and talking about anything and everything. Went and sat outside the door in the cool breeze while the message was being preached. And during prayer for anything and everything of the people who came. 4 of our street kid friends showed up, one unexpected which was cool. Hanscom. He has my shirt. But also Jordan, Prince, and a guy with an unpronounceable name showed up. Impressive to see them sitting and standing up front, broadcasting presence. The woman in pain also showed up, and was a totally different person. Sang loud, no longer appeared in so much pain. Zac said later that she was a different woman. Awesome. Others from the neighborhood showed up. And the street kids and many of those that showed accepted Christ when there was a call to accept salvation. There was more info on the prophecies of approaching war, but in French, so we don’t know what was said. The leader of the base showed up and preached. I think he was talking about us for a bit too, our effect. It was a really good night. Ended with juice and peanuts. And the leader of the street kids, Oliver, showed up during that time and engaged in conversation with various staff and the street kids. Planting seeds, oh so good. Packed up whatever was left in our rooms. Took down our mosquito nets. Said goodbyes. Said thank yous. Packed the bus. Final pictures. Got 22 people into the bus, all the street kids, some staff and us. It was sad to leave.

            Airport, got through the securities, through checkin. I had to pee so bad cause I drank a lot of juice. It was good to get to the bathroom. We had to pay an exit tax. Never had to do that before, unless you count exit visas. There were souvenir shops inside the airport. And they were cheaper then the tourist trap bazaar we had gone too. I got some coffee for my collection. Haha. Right, my coffee collection. I can never decide what to collect from a country. Others got a bunch of stuff. Like Brian, he got a giraffe statue. And had to carry it around. Got aboard the Swiss flight. The AC felt awesome, especially on those of us that had heat rash. Watched Slumdog Millionaire. Most most most excellent. I loved it. So good. Drank 4 cokes, tied a couple of the guys, I think. Slept two hours. Got to Zurich early in the morning. Met up with a friend of Zacs who lived there, YWAM associated. She brought us a typical breakfast, brotchen and cheese and gas water. It was fun. We actually got out and went across the street to the mall/train station. We thus gave some of the guys another country to add to the list of ones they had been to. Tripled the amount of continents and countries for a couple, all in one trip. Wish I could do that. We were then let go to wander for a couple hours. I wanted to find an H&M and buy a jacket to replace my senior jacket. Didn’t have one there though. Had a New Yorker, but they didn’t have a style I liked. And the one I liked at another store was really expensive. I was walking around with Brady.

            I had hoped to run into someone I knew, anyone at all, from BFA. It was their spring break travel day, so the odds were the highest for running into someone. So I was looking. Without my contacts everything was blurry. But was walking around and saw a shirt I recognized, but couldn’t figure out where from. And I didn’t recognize the girl wearing it. But I got closer and recognized the girl with her. It was Joanna Bell! I yelled her name and she appeared surprised. Made my day. It was like the cherry on top of awesomeness. Talked for a bit. Found out that the other girl was Bethany Bells sister. Got a picture. It was good. Will always be a memory of chance luck that was sweet. They went to catch their flight, and Brady and I got Starbucks. Looked around for a Swiss sweatshirt for Brady, but he ended up just getting a plain one. Met up, got our boarding passes and got through security and on board our plane. Stayed awake the whole time. My audio portion of my movies wasn’t working too well, so I just listened to music. And read my book. And all the magazines. I ended up getting really bored. And then I remembered I had H2G2. That helped a lot. Got to Dulles, were supposed to have 2 hours there. As were walking saw a notice of it being delayed an additional two hours. Annoying. Walked to our gate, got on the internet while most went to get dinner. My phone was dead so I was using Skype. We then had a team meeting, discussed the last day and the trip as a whole. How it affected us. Yeah. That sort of info will come in a bit, once I’ve figured everything out. The flight kept getting delayed, and they moved our gate back to where we had come out of customs. Customs was funny, cause we had to wait for forever cause of Tinita being British. Anyways, it was another mile back. Wendys for dinner. Lots of people at the gate complaining about it being so late for no reason. We finally left 4 hours late, and got to Denver way late, and our bags took forever. Left the airport at 1 in the morning. My mom picked me up at the Southgate at 2:30 and I was home and asleep by 3. Ieesh. Had a meeting at Mo and Muffy’s the next day, to complete everything. Prayer and singing and discussing. Good closure.

            Ok, this is long. I’ll be impressed if you read the whole thing. I don’t think it is as long as Rwanda though. Course, another note will be written about this within a week or so, when I have time.

Recognition

Currently Comatose By Skillet The Older I get see related

Character

Long Time