Homeless

Jesus replied, “Foxes have dens and birds have nests, but the Son of Man has no place to lay his head.” Matthew 8:20

I’m tired.

I want to go home.

What home?

Oh, yeah, right, I’m homeless.

Jesus' comment to the potential recruit in Matthew has new meaning for me:

Over the past couple months, Bill and I have been dependent on other people’s charity. Now don’t get me wrong. I am deeply appreciative of the generous hospitality shown to us. It’s not easy inviting two people that you might not have seen for a few years, or at least a year, into one’s house and having them invade your privacy, disrupt your routine, and block your vehicle in the driveway. I am very much indebted to the wonderful welcome so many of our friends and family have shown us. In fact, I am so thankful that I am also struggling with guilt. Why am I so unsettled and tired of living from house to house when so much kindness has been floated my direction? I feel ungrateful.

I should be more thankful. Less unsettled. Less grumpy.

Guilt and loneliness has a way of sneaking up and rearing its sinister little tongue in my ear at the most inopportune moments. For example, driving down the speedway from Zion National Park to San Bernardino California after a fabulous camping trip. And when I say fabulous, I mean it was perfect. Great weather. Great company. Delicious food. Inspiring views of nature’s beauty. It was a flawless get-a-way. I couldn’t have asked for a more perfect adventure.

It’s over now. We’re driving away toward the smog of the L.A. West. We’ve packed up the little red Honda Fit once again. Although our clothes smell like campfire smoke and items might have “shifted” a bit making the piles in the back more ‘poofy’, everything is settled enough that one can view out the rear-view mirror. Our temporary tent shelter is cleaned and packed and now a distant memory. We are driving onward to another yet another temporary shelter.

Our yellow duffle bags contain most of our clothes. Our two backpacks contain the other essentials, like a laptop computer, documents, and electrical wires for charging the mobile phone and iPad. The camera and day planner are in my shoulder bag. Bill and I can carry all our necessities in two hands.  We don’t need much: deodorant, toothbrush, clean underwear, pyjamas, and a nail clipper. Our life on the road is pared down to the bare essentials. And yet, with all our comforts more than amply supplied, why do I feel so “homeless”? Like a vagrant or a gypsy?

How many more WiFi network passwords can our MacBook remember? McDonalds, Starbucks, Panara, and even Zion National Park have public Internet access now. I’ve used them all. The downside of daily changes in my IP address was that my Google account locked me out. It noticed "erratic usage patterns" in my account!

How many different ways of brewing coffee can we learn? Instant…Drip… Pods… Press… Fancy machines and not so fancy machines…

How many varieties of soaps and shampoos will our skin adapt to?

How quickly can our bodies adapt to the ever-changing time zones and schedules?

How many different brands of washing machines and dryers are available in the U.S. these days? The fully automated ones practically require a PhD to be able to utilize. I never new laundering a pair of wool socks was such a complicated science!

Our new Honda Fit has driven over 16,000 miles in under 4 months and passed through 26 different U.S. States. Our Visa company is almost on speed dial so we can let them know we’re in yet another country.

I have one address on my driver’s license. Another address for my Visa Card. When someone asks for a mailing address, which one should I give? My Amazon account contains over 20 potential addresses for shipping.

Oh, and a phone number, you ask? Well….I have  a new mobile number this year. A Trac phone. One of those pay-as-you-go phones. Great for avoiding the FBI if I were a secret agent spy; not so great when others want to contact me or I want to look up a friend in my phone’s contact list.

Want to confuse someone? Try scheduling a doctor visit or a dental check-up with the receptionist. The conversation can be a bit awkward:

“I can put you in for an appointment with the doctor on Wednesday, December X,” the receptionist pauses, waiting for my affirmation.

“Um… I won’t be in Virginia then. We’re only in that State for the last week of November. Might you have another appointment slot open, please? We only come back to the U.S. for a short period of time for our annual holiday, you see. Sorry for the confusion.” I apologize. Sometimes one can make appointments more in advance but then one risks misunderstandings through the crackling, unsteady Skype connection.

The receptionist (rolling eyes on the other end of the line most likely) finally answers after a significant pause, absorbing the information, “Well…let’s see…” I wonder if she thinks I’m making up the situation to entice her to try for a more urgent slot. I have no idea.

~o~

One day it will be nice to have a home address again. A home to ship our belongings to that are scattered all over the world. Some cartons are waiting on the dock in Douala tagged to cross the Atlantic soon -- we hope. Other boxes are shelved in our longsuffering parent’s basement. Our dog is lodged temporarily with my parents while we drive across the country like migrant workers in search of a permanent position. Our cat is distributed to a friend of a friend until we have a final destination. Other mementos are stored in at my husband’s relatives. And the rest of our things -- those little essentials that we can’t bear to part with -- like our guest book, a favourite pillow, and my husband -- are nestled ‘fittingly’ into our Honda Fit.

One day Bill and I will have our own bed again. One day we’ll be able to set our toothbrushes down on the bathroom counter and not worry about forgetting them when we pack up again. One day it will us giving out the password for our own WiFi network. But, for now, we’re homeless and on the road. Two days here. Three days there. House to house. Friend to friend.

I am thankful. I am grateful. I am blessed by the interactions and the opportunities. I wouldn’t trade this unique experience of transitioning from Cameroon back to the U.S. for anything. I won’t forget it.

And yet… I  think I will be glad to finally unpack…one day. At least for a while.

~o~

Lord, I cannot fail to see the spiritual lesson in all of this. What a reminder that yes, we are pilgrims and sojourners on this earth. We cannot get too settled. Earth is not the final home; heaven is our destination. Heaven is our home. Until then, we keep travelling.

And I do ache for that heavenly home. These past few weeks have demonstrated that more than ever to me. Home is heaven.

 The hymn in church last week seemed fitting. It is probably a familiar hymn for many of you. The words have been filled with additional meaning for me recently. Here they are: (the YouTube version is quite nice, btw).

This world is not my home, I'm just passing through.

My treasures are laid up somewhere beyond the blue.

The angels beckon me from Heaven's open door

And I can't feel at home in this world anymore.

O Lord you know I have no friend like you

If Heaven's not my home, then Lord what will I do?

The angels beckon me from Heaven's open door

And I can't feel at home in this world anymore.

They're all expecting me and that's one thing I know.

My Saviour pardoned me and now I onward go.

I know He'll take me through, though I am weak and poor.

And I can't feel at home in this world anymore.

O Lord you know I have no friend like you

If Heaven's not my home, then Lord what will I do?

The angels beckon me from Heaven's open door

And I can't feel at home in this world anymore.

I have a loving Savior up in glory-land,

I don't expect to stop until I with Him stand,

He's waiting now for me in heaven's open door

And I can't feel at home in this world anymore.

O Lord you know I have no friend like you

If Heaven's not my home, then Lord what will I do?

The angels beckon me from Heaven's open door

And I can't feel at home in this world anymore.

ust up in Glory Land we'll live eternally.

The Saints on every hand are shouting victory.

Their song of sweetest praise drifts back from Heaven's shore

And I can't feel at home in this world anymore.

O Lord you know I have no friend like you

If Heaven's not my home, then Lord what will I do?

The angels beckon me from Heaven's open door

And I can't feel at home in this world anymore.

Fit for Skyline Drive

The drive to Yaounde from Buea is about 322 km (200 miles). The fastest I made it was in 4 hours the longest included an overnight in Douala because the traffic really was that bad (coming back from Yaounde).  Normally, without feeling rushed it was between five and six hours.  The thing is a Nissan Terrano is an SUV and it drove like an SUV abused in Africa - with good reason - because it is.

When I picked up the Fit I was trying to think about a fun place to drive for an extended “get to know you” experience. The ONLY place that entered my mind was Skyline Drive in the Shenandoah National Park.  I mapped it out in Google to 207 miles with an estimated drive time of 4 hr and 35 minutes. 

It was a beautiful drive. I opened up the sunroof and put the windows down. I was able to work the car a bit more.  The drive to Front Royal was pretty standard but turning up Skyline Drive I immediately noticed the CVT trying to find the right place to be. What I was driving were some rapid up and down hills on corners. It was trying to anticipate what I might want or need but was not meeting with any success. So, I turned off ECON and put the car in sport mode, requiring me to use the paddle shifters. This turned out much more satisfying (admittedly however I am a manual shift guy and still wanted to shift that way).  In any case the CVT obeyed my command. I found the Fit ready to respond with some engine breaking on the down slopes and entering corners before adding power through the curve and up the hills.  It was quick to shift up or down.

The steering is light and precise, coming off the Terrano I simply wasn’t prepared for its accuracy, but that is one reason for me to do this drive. With the wind in my receding hairline, music emanating from the iPod through the sound system, with a “Fit” and capable car I was getting road therapy - salve for the soul.

It was all real good until I realized I went west on 33 rather than east. Oh well - I wasn’t lost just getting extra miles on the highway.  I went back via I-81 to I-66 an extra 60 miles or so.

My entire drive took me about 6.5 hrs with stops out vistas and animals.  I was reminded just how fun it is to drive a car that is so willing to be driven.  To be fair to the Terrano, the few times I found myself on muddy and challenging roads I was ever so pleased it was what it was!!

Everything has its purpose.  I enjoyed the Terrano and am now enjoy the Fit.  To fully enjoy each I have to remember each has a slightly different purpose.  

Everyone has a purpose. Sometimes it seems that our “things” are easier to see and understand purpose. In people purpose may be more difficult. However I would like to make it easier. I believe it is our purpose to love without condition or requirement.  Everything else we are or have is something else - perhaps gifts from God to be given in the service of love.  You are fit for service because you have a purpose and a very high calling: love others as you love yourself.  May the love of yourself and others grow more each day.

Fit for a Spin

Add caption

When you get new things that you depend on it seems wise to me to test ‘em out.  Get used to how it works, get to know the quirks.  This is like the test drive in a car.  But modern test drives really are nothing of the sort.  Commonly this is known as taking the car for a spin.  What I have now discovered is that the first “real” drive is the post-purchase.  This is the real “shakedown” spin cycle - to mix my metaphors.

Well I was fit for a spin with a new car to slide into.  The first spin was a 40 mile loop around Fredericksburg.  I attached the iPod to the USB and selected the first song that played the day I purchased it “Flight of the Wild Goose” by the group Iona. 

This was the “Wild Goose” getting a chance to spread its wings a bit.  We took it easy, just enjoying the late afternoon sunshine and back country roads, down into old town Fredericksburg, getting a bit of freeway time and back onto the country lanes.

It was a lovely “get to know you” drive, leaving me with a strong desire for a proper day long road trip.  

This brings to mind many other things too.  For one, getting to know another person, dating or not.  You see someone, hear about them, have an occasion to meet them.  You get a good first impression and you are left wanting to know them better.  And so it goes.

Honda cars have a good reputation for giving years of faithful service.  Not everyone’s experiences are the same, of course.  The idea is if you take care of the car, it will serve you a very long time.  You can see the allegory to human relationships.

Let’s transition to the spiritual life.  I admit to a Universalist approach of sorts: I believe every person looks for meaning in life.  Making sense of life and the meaning of life is a spiritual pursuit.  Perhaps this can be analogous to the type of transport: Planes, Trains, Automobiles, Bicycle, Feet, Motorcycle, and so on.  We have preferences of expressed “faith”, that in which we place our trust.  We may have tested another mode but been burned or disappointed or simply not “wowed” to woo us away from our main preference.

We all have a world view, an understanding and belief of how the world works. Everyone we meet has a different world view - even though some so similar as to be declared the same - they are not.  These differences can be expressed by all that lines we used to delineate our differences: religion, politics, gender, race, sexual identity, language, tribe, nationality, and all the subtleties of these and more.

The bottom line of transport, from my perspective, is to get us to where we want to go. To take us from point A to point B.

The bottom line of world views / faith / trust systems, from my perspective, is to care for the widows, orphans, marginalized, vulnerable, with compassion, and without condition.  As I think about it today, we are all, to varying degrees, fragile and vulnerable.  So how nice it would be to treat one another - at the very least - as a car with which we look forward to many years of faithful service - but how much better to take care of one another because its simply the right thing to do.

Life with Soul or 4550

Our 2010 Kia Soul in Loma Linda, CA

Kia Soul that is, the Hampsta car.  We drove into the Budget Rental lot and saw a bunch of cars.  I figured we'd be getting the Nissan Sentra.  While nice, the Sentra is your standard econo-car.  Just down the row sat two Kia Souls, one green and one black.  I said something to Trixy about how cool it would be if we got upgraded and could get a Soul.  But we had reserved the cheapest car we could find and the Sentra sat there waiting.  When we walked up to the counter and gave our names we were asked "Green or black?".  "Green" was Trixy's reply.  We were upgraded because I was tall.  Sweet deal!

Trixy with Soul at Henry Coe State Park

At just over $16,000 the Kia Soul is not cheap.  It plays in the same sandbox as the Honda Fit, Scion Xb, Nissan Cube, and an ever growing field of competitors.  There is much to like about the Kia Soul.  But before getting there, let me surface what I don't think is so hot.

Soul in Bend (near REI)

1) Blindspots

I noticed these while in Bend OR and only when parking diagonally.  Otherwise the windows are big and useful.

2) Mileage

Yes it isn't really that bad, but I am used to my Honda Civic that would get 32 mpg at a steady 85 mph.  Or 43 when driving 55-60 mph.  Instead the best I got was 32.5  when driving 55-60.  When driving a pretty steady 80 I was about 25.5 mpg.  The engine is something like 147 hp while my Civic was 127 hp, some differences but enough?  I'm not sure.

The rear pillar makes backing up a challenge

3) automatic transmission

A general bias.  I might have liked a manual more.  But tromp down on the accelerator and the little hamstas take a few moments to get the message.

4) I could never figure out how to play music through the USB connector with my iPod Touch or mini connected.

Dog (and luggage) friendly Soul

What is to like?  Everything else.  We took the Soul with 5585 miles and returned it with 10135.  The elapsed time counter showed 92 hrs and 40 minutes when we returned it which was actually some 30 minutes less than actual (due to figuring out the system about a half hour down the highway).  Our trip MPG was 25.86.  We traveled to within miles of the Mexican border and into Canada (although the Soul stayed in America).

Soul in South Bend WA

The Soul can easily accommodate four six-footers and have room for each one to have a 22" duffle AND see out the back window.  The climate control dials are large and easy to reach and adjust.  I found the gauges to be well placed and very readable.  The driving position was very good and never felt awkward even after hours of continuous driving.

The steering was responsive and tight.  Twisty roads are fun, but don't mistake this for a sports car (though admittedly I never did push the Soul to its limits).  You will want to be careful on less than smooth corners to be sure.  The Soul will just sort of skip sideways. 

Soul & Horse Tail Falls

The unkindest thing I can say about the ride is that on the choppy LA freeways left much to be desired.  Otherwise very nice.  One other thing I need to mention.  We encountered some very blustery winds.  The Soul held its ground and I rarely felt a tug on the steering wheel.  I don't know how the engineers did it.  Our 2001 Accord didn't manage as well.

Kia is working hard to design and build stylish cars and I would not hesitate to put this one in my driveway but for the gas mileage.

Soul over the Columbia River

As I write this I wonder, if I were a car what someone could write about me  Or what if I were to write about someone else?  From my worldview we all have the same designer.  We have different purposes to fulfill, we have differing strengths, weaknesses, skills, and abilities.  Would the reviewer take that into consideration?  In a human being is refinement built-in or developed? From my worldview "Love" is a foundational principle and the most powerful "force" in the universe.  But how does that fit in to a car-type review?  Would it be the engine? the fuel?  In any case I continue to reflect on my own life.  Is it possible I am being transformed from a Diablo into a Soul?

Bill with Soul in South Bend WA

Of Lamborghini's and Soul

A thought came to me, I'm not sure now how, but would I, if I could, buy a Lamborghini.  On one hand the easy answer is "duh, of course!"  I have admired Lamborghini cars since the mid 1970s.  On the other hand the answer is much more complicated and it revolves around "stewardship".  Not a word I enjoy or even frequently use.  None-the-less there it is.  If I earned enough money that it was like dropping $200 or maybe even $2000 then sure I probably would.  As I continued to mull over just how much I would have to earn to do that I drifted away from stewardship - largely because I was passing a Gallardo on Interstate 10 just west of Loma Linda.  I realized that at the age of 13 I would have sold my mother to the Tusken Raiders of Tatooine to have a Countach, but a mere "few" years later I simply was appreciating the car as art - the finest of automotive art.  The kind of art that I can appreciate in the Lourve or that a friend or foe may own.  Not something I need to possess.  Not something that would even be a status symbol if I owned it myself.

I started thinking about art.  Where is it?  Certainly it is in "Oil and Canvas".  We can say "Music" as well.  Certainly we can debate the "good or bad - ness" of art - and if we do I'll bring up about 90% of automotive design of the 70s.  But for now skipping judgement and interpretation of the quality of art, I began to see that art is all around.  I enjoy roasting coffee.  The people selecting the beans from around the world and providing tips are engaged in art.  The manner in which I roast is an art.  Automobile design is art, not just the design of the body, but the mechanics and engineering is an art and the blending of the bits and pieces is art.  On our honeymoon we stayed four nights at Colton House which the guide book suggests asking the owner about his home brewed beers and I began to get an idea of the art of beer.  We toured the Deschutes Brewery in Bend and I was reminded to appreciate the variety and depth of artistic endeavor in the creation and brewing of beer.  We toured the Tillamook Cheese factory and, later the Rogue River Cheese factory (still hand-turned) and found (unsurprisingly) just how artistic cheese making really is.  We visited a chocolate maker who offers up his own artistry.  We dropped into Bath and Body Works and as I write this am enjoying some scent Trixy sprayed onto a card.  There is an art to scent making.  Auto-mechanics of Cameroon (at the very least) are artistic.  And medicine is said to be a marriage of "art and science".  

My point here isn't art AND/OR science but that all IS art AND science.  All of this got me thinking that because of our biases, distractions, perspectives, values, and baggage, more often than not we seem to miss the artistry that is presented to us every day.  Dinner out involves the chefs, waiters, and others: the look, aroma, taste, and ambiance are integrated into an artistic whole.  Whether you drive a Lamborghini or Kia Soul creative effort was invested.  Whether a movie, a photograph, a song, a poem, or a painting has any commercial appeal becomes irrelevant to the artistic expression.  Yet we so often judge success based on consumer reception.  We judge based on our tastes and biases.  We warm to an artist or not.  Others may or may not agree with our assessment.  So whether you are e.e. cummings or Paul Neil Milne Johnstone, Ansel Adams or the average Joe Snapper it is important to remember this isn't about judging qualities between our perspective and the creator's.  As an individual I can like or dislike something and that has nothing to do with the artistry of the creator.  Vogons and Ferraris are both invested with a creator's artistry whether or not I appreciate them.

And on a drive during Annual Leave, I was thinking about all the people who feel like cogs in the gears of systems in which they have no input.  Whether or not they have the opportunity to add to the creative output of their respective widgets, the manner in which each approaches their work is an artistic endeavor.   We enter into the artistic endeavors of job performance, dialogue, marriage & relationship building, and people empowerment.

All of this brings me back to stewardship.  We are who we are: skills, experiences, biases, temperament, and cultivated tendencies.  We are stewards of ourselves.  Our thoughts and actions influence events around us and we can come to realize the shared stewardship we have towards one another and all that we know of as "life".  If I may put forward that "good" stewardship is investing our best artistry in all we do.  This thought brings me back to my father's words:  "Do what you love and do your best doing it."  That itself is an artistic endeavor.

The Road to Kribi

You never really know how much stress you are feeling until you find a place to be quiet and relax. This was my experience in going to Kribi.

Kribi is a beach resort town in the South Region of Cameroon - attracting people from Douala and Yaounde with the easy drive and quiet pace. The population is estimated at 60,000 (based on 2007 figures). One of the first things I noticed on arriving in town is that there were large rubber trash receptacles place every few hundred feet along the road. Because of this the town has relatively little (almost no) street side litter. The entire time were were in Kribi I also never smelled the burning of anything except the sweet savor of food cooking.

The next thing I really noticed was the the beaches are almost completely trash free as well. This is no small feat. Kribi has a port of sorts, but I'm pretty sure its survival depends on tourism. Kribi is essentially at the road's end. It is known for its "white" sand beaches and Lobé Falls. Lobé Falls is one of several waterfalls around the world that fall directly into the ocean. They are not spectacular in the sense of height and grandeur. They are spectacular simply for what they are.

The daily stress one is under pales in comparison to (or perhaps is magnified by) the bump and grind through Bonaberi, and worse yet, the road just beyond the Douala Airport. From Buea to Kribi is about 150 miles and it takes about 3.5 hrs to drive. I look forward to the Douala Bypass. I don't think it is planned or anything. I think I will come back to Cameroon just to drive it though.

Just after the town of Edea you turn right on to the N7 (from the N3). Street signs are essentially non-existant (we did see some in Yaounde). Often you will see a sign that shows roads with town names. But to Kribi, we saw nothing. I turned right at what seemed right place. Just down the road a piece was a large sign (in French) saying something about Kribi. I also noticed a little stone Km marker a bit further along noting 95 Km to Kribi. Whew. The correct road.

The beauty of the N7 is that it only has traffic bound for Kribi. This, being the off season meant traffic was light. The road is in good repair and truck traffic was minimal. So I was able to hit speeds of 73 mph. I was passed only by a couple of cars!! About 3/4 of the way to Kribi, you cross a river and into the South Region.

As this was all new to us we went slowly through town trying to follow the directions of the 2004 guidebook. Funny thing about guidebooks: they are not able to tell you about current road conditions or construction. We finally found the detour around the work blocking our way. And by noon had reached Hotel Ilomba. We were told they were full up so we went back to the next hotel. The Hotel Residence des Fluers saved us 25,000 cfa per night. The accommodations where nice and clean. The mattress felt new and the pillows very nice. The only thing that seemed less than "normal" was that there was no toilet seat. While unusual for us, this is indeed quite normal here.

We went to Lobé falls after checking in, walked out on the rocks and snapped some photos. This began the "de-stressing" process. We lunched at Ilomba. Beyond telling us "don't panic" the guidebook says this restaurant is "good". "Good" is an understatement. I ordered Fillet au Paris or something like that. The waiter returned and asked "How would you like that cooked?" I couldn't believe my ears!! "Medium well" was my reply knowing I would be happy with whatever returned. And what came to the table was a nice lean steak that was ever so lightly pink. It was "melt in your mouth delicious!"

Dinner was at our hotel. While the accommodations were respectable, the restaurant is not. Where lunch was easily the best meal I had eaten in Cameroon, dinner was the worst. The service was average at best and the bill incorrect. We left there and walked back to Ilomba for dessert of ice cream (a couple of scoops of mint and a couple of coconut with a dollop of whipped cream) and a chocolate mousse. Without hesitation we went back to Ilomba for breakfast. I had the 6000 cfa breakfast buffet - easily the best tasting and most filling meal I have had in the country. We did stop on the way out of town at a place for lunch and had a very tasty meal too.

When one willingly stops being the "hamster on the wheel" the awareness of the stress comes flooding to the top. Life in Africa, and Cameroon in particular, is at once a slower yet incredibly intense pace. Everything seems to take much more effort to accomplish so much less. The noise of the everyday can often drown out the still small voice calling us to be wise, loving, humble, and peacemakers. The noise of the everyday can often blind us to unique solutions, and actually diminish relationships. There is nothing magical about Kribi - just opportunity. Resting on the beach after a wonderful meal I began to think about these things. I have no answers. There are things you know and yet sometimes forget in the experience. I love Trixy and I choose her daily. Yet here I was finally relaxing disconnected from our "everyday". Walking hand in hand on the beach or along a dirt track, laughing and actually enjoying one another, without all the added, daily stress and strain. We certainly didn't become "stress free" but it was dialed back. It was just what the doctor ordered.

The Fourth and Fireworks

My childhood memories of American Independence day are of family and friends at parades and picnics and later fireworks over the lake. As I grew up and moved around I have enjoyed memorable Independence day celebrations around the country. Each celebration has its own uniqueness whether it was with particular friends, fireworks displays, music, or what-have-you. Some of the standouts: Boston, standing on the bridge over the Charles River listening to the Pops perform the 1812 Overture; Washington DC on the Mall; Selway-Bitteroot Wilderness in Idaho after two days of rain our "fireworks" were a gorgeous sunset and a roaring fire. In 2002 I spent my first independence day celebration with Trixy. We went to San Francisco enjoyed exploring the city during the day and were on the wharf for dueling barges sending up the fireworks.

This year I have just celebrated my first 4th of July Independence day celebration outside of the United States. It was a very different experience. For one thing, we are around very few Americans. In Buea we know of five (including Trixy and me). So there is little focus on the day. But what I also realized is that social networking tools such as Facebook provide a touch of that awareness. I get to share in the events of the day with my friends and relatives again - though much more retrospectively and certainly not in first person.

I think the term "retrospective" is fully appropriate to describe my experience this year. I have been reviewing what the day means to me and the many and varied ways I have spent the day and all of the various people with whom I have celebrated (the list is LONG and IMHO distinguished).

Reading the American Declaration of Independence still gives me goose bumps. It is, along with the American Bill of Rights, among the worlds greatest documents. It declares independence from abuse and outlines appropriate boundaries by revealing grievances. The authors didn't seek to burn bridges but understood that the "other party" might not agree and they may make forceful effort to forbid such. The document sets the foundation for a national identity. As the nation grew and matured (and continues to grow and mature) we realized that many attitudes the various citizens have held through the years have had to grow and mature as well. I hope we have not yet stopped growing and maturing.

This year we had no fireworks (except for those expressed by me when I couldn't find my Cameroon National ID card - which Trixy was able to find). Instead Trixy and I, with Peace Corps friend Kami drove to Yaounde, the capital of Cameroon. From our home it is about 200 miles to the American Embassy. Leaving our house at 9:15 am we stopped at Beno's Bakery and later in Bonaberi for fuel and to top off the tyres (here you say "fill-up" which sounds like "flop"). In Buea you pay about 100 cfa for each tyre. At Tradex they fill up the air for free. From there it was a Sunday's drive through Douala (meaning much less traffic).

I have only driven to the airport in Douala. So every kilometer after the airport was new to my personal driving experience. Near Edea we were stopped by the police. He looked at the stickers on the windshield (all current and correct) and sent us on our way. No IDs or vehicle documents requested. The entire trip this ended up being the only time we were stopped. And no one wished us a happy 4th of July.

I had reviewed Google Earth before leaving home and had a pretty good idea of where I needed to go. We planned to stop at the SDA headquarters in Yaounde, followed by the Guest House and then the Embassy. We arrived at the Embassy, after our stops at 2:30 pm about half way through the three hour party. Sadly we missed the National Anthem which was played at 1:30. Still it was wonderful to be greeted with "Welcome to America!"

We were guided to the pool area where tents were set up over tables and chairs (this is the rainy season after all). We paid 7,500 cfa for lunch (about $15 for a cheeseburger, hotdog, two ice creams, cupcake and cracker jacks). Included were any drinks in the coolers and the sandwich accompaniments (pickles, lettuce, tomatoes, onions, mustard, ketchup, potato salad, etc). The area was decorated with red, white, and blue balloons, streamers, etc.

While the clouds looked threatening, it did not rain! In fact the sun came out and was a tad bit warm. Trixy and Kami went swimming while I visited with friends. There are many Americans living and working in Cameroon. We met up with SIL Missionaries and Peace Corps folk we've met before (and made some new friends too). We spent the evening with the Kapteyn's, the SIL Missionary family we know in town and with whom we visited at the pool party. We hadn't had a chance to really visit since we saw them in April 2009.

I am reminded that I am an ambassador for all the things I am and profess. I am a citizen of the US of A. Everything I say and do reflects on America. I am a professed follower of "the way" (of Jesus of Nazareth) and thus consider myself a citizen of a government "not of this world", a member of the Seventh-day Adventist Church, I am a student of "Leadership", promoter of technology and the geo-dispursed knowledge contributor. What I say and do matters as it reflects on what I profess.

The American Colonies' written declaration of independence reminds me of the incredible responsibility I have in participating in my government processes. I am reminded of the awesome responsibility of refusing to be abused while desiring peace with those who might seek to abuse me; and of not abusing others with force, fear, intimidation, or manipulation but rather to stand with courage and - in a conviction of love - serve. The declaration of independence and the bill of rights are designed to protect the rights of all members of the citizenry: the powerful and the weak; the victims and the victimizers; the majority of "whatever" as well as the minority "whatever". At the beginning of the united States of America the signers of the declaration pledged their lives and fortunes to one another - come what may. I wonder where we are today.

***

When the government fears the people, there is liberty. When the people fear the government, there is tyranny. Thomas Jefferson

Necessity is the plea for every infringement of human freedom. It is the argument of tyrants; it is the creed of slaves.
William Pitt the Younger

Those who deny freedom to others deserve it not for themselves; and, under the rule of a just God, cannot long retain it.
Abraham Lincoln

History affords us many instances of the ruin of states, by the prosecution of measures ill suited to the temper and genius of their people. The ordaining of laws in favor of one part of the nation, to the prejudice and oppression of another, is certainly the most erroneous and mistaken policy. An equal dispensation of protection, rights, privileges, and advantages, is what every part is entitled to, and ought to enjoy... These measures never fail to create great and violent jealousies and animosities between the people favored and the people oppressed; whence a total separation of affections, interests, political obligations, and all manner of connections, by which the whole state is weakened.
Benjamin Franklin, Emblematical Representations, Circa 1774

Road to Kumba

As our friend Carl was wrapping up his two week visit with us we wanted to do something different than the usual weekend activities. We had planned to go to Kribi, a resort beach town in the South Region. But for a number of reasons we decided it would be better to stay a bit closer to home and make a single day trip to Kumba.

From our place in Buea you head down to Mile 17 (about 3 miles down the hill). Mile 17 is a round-a-bout and one of the fastest growing areas in Buea. To go to Kumba you exit left. From there you pass Muea (also a rapidly growing community and home to one of the oldest markets in the greater Buea area).

From Muea you travel about 50 miles to Kumba. As the road leaves Muea, there are few towns and villages (Bolifamba, Ekona and Muyuka are the other major communities on the road to Kumba). The scenery is spectacular coming away from Buea. There is one place where the road drops at an 8 to 10% rate and you can see rolling hills for many miles. The ups and downs and twists and turns of this year old upgraded road are interrupted with periodic speed bumps and three or four police/military check points.

From a round-a-bout in Kumba, it is about 2 miles to the turn off to Lake Barambi Kotto - a crater lake. The last bit of this road - after the government offices - is a relatively graded dirt road. The little road to the lake is more of a "track". It was once paved or at least in parts. From the turn off, the last track is just about a half mile. That last half mile took us 10 minutes and 15 seconds to drive.

I am now very happy we purchased a four-wheel drive (4WD). I had not tested the 4WD system until this point. Putting the Terrano into 4H we started down the track, through a very soft and muddy 15 feet and up the other side.

Dropping down a gentle grade we were faced with a very steep uphill grade with some pretty good (bad) ruts. I put it into 4-low and picked my path. No tire slippage at all as the torque of the engine pretty much pulled us up the hill. From that point I just left it in 4-low to the lake's edge as the road was very muddy and rough.

The lake area is lush. It sits at an elevation of about 980 feet. We were blessed with a mostly sunny day. Of course that meant more heat than we are used to in Buea (elev 2400'). Where the road meets the lake you can hire a boat to take you across the lake to a village. We opted out of the boat rental and decided to just walk about. We walked for a while on a jungle path along the lake. When the growth got real thick and tall we turned around and headed back.

On the drive back along the track we gave a lift to two village ladies headed to the Kumba market. Their plantains had been taken out by moto and they were walking the track. We dropped them at track's end so they could be sure to arrange for the plantains to make the rest of the trip to market.

In Kumba we decided to check out the market as well. It is fairly large with well defined dirt walkways. Fortunately the dirt was more dry than wet and mud was minimal. Lunch was at Kanton Hotel/Cafe. The World Cup was on the television. There were four of us and we had intended to face each other around our table, but instead they brought another table up so that all of us could watch the game. Did I mention the World Cup is BIG here? Sadly, however, the Cameroon National team has been eliminated.

The drive back was uneventful: no hassles at checkpoints being most noteworthy.

Learning to Drive (again)

BUEA Cameroon - The last time I drove was something like November 30, 2009. Granted it was just after driving our little Honda Civic across the country but still - its been over five months since getting behind the wheel of a car.

That is what makes my most recent Douala visit an adventure. I drove. I was there to check out a Nissan Torrano II (the details: 2004 w/70,000 kms, diesel, 2+3+2 seating, 4 doors, 4x4, white. looks like a mild fender bender up front, a pounded out drivers door. Overall for Cameroon in very good shape.)

I was handed the key and got in. I forgot it was a manual transmission and quietly wondered to myself why it wouldn't start, when I remembered the clutch (I like to think it was a quick brain fart). Shifting was smooth, the clutch felt right, the engine responsive. Nothing to worry about - right? Pulling out on to the street was easy as it was a quiet side street. Following the directions of the backseat driver, I turned left, right, and left again. It was the second left with a right following when it hit home that I was in Douala. A large Mercedes boldly pulled up on my left and cut me off to the right.

My Boston born and bred brain clicked on. I tromped on the accelerator and went into the flow of traffic cutting of the Mercedes. :-) I was now in the left lane and there was some discussion in the backseat about which way we were planning to turn at the next cross road. "Go right" and I bust into the right lane. "No, no we are going left". There were two painted lanes going our direction and four lanes of vehicles. And I pushed the car left and cut in as the backseat drivers said, "no, no, go further up and then cut in!" And, as the light turned red "Go, go, go - FASTER, this is Cameroon!" The opposing traffic didn't seem phased that I was the last of four or five cars that clearly ran the red.

Down past a place where there were more white people than I have seen in five months as well (apparently a quality international school), turned around when through the mass of white people again (with all newer larger cars by the way), to a nice quiet street where we could more closely examine the car. The mechanic who came with my friend and I took the car for a quick spin and it looked like the alignment was pretty good (at least not horrible).

Back in the drivers seat we eased right where the cars were coming quickly and the merge very short, complicated by some serious pot-holes. Back safely - nothing would be worse in my opinion than to take a car out for a test drive and get into an accident! Did I mention that the only license I have is from Indiana? Yes, and it was in Buea.

We are now working on a wire transfer. If the owners are patient we will be the new owners. If not, we'll keep looking.

Car accident UPDATED

BUEA Cameroon - Wow, poor Winner's Pharmacy. No damage to property, but as I (Bill) was headed up town to the radio station to purchase advert spots for the health centre, saw an over-turned and heavily damaged SUV right in front of Winner's. I don't know the extent of injuries for driver, passengers, or pedestrians. Trixy, Jordan, and I walk this way regularly and it is an eye-opening experience to see that even folk on the other side of the deep rain drain are at risk.

UPDATE: I went by to take a closer look and there was extensive damage to the front wall of the courtyard to Winner's Pharmacy as well as glass all over the place. It looks like it was pretty bad. I hope no one was killed!