All Hail Liberia Hail - Newsletter April 2005
Dear All,
I feel like I've fallen somewhat out of touch with the world beyond Mercy Ships in the last month or so but now outreach is back underway in Liberia and some degree of normal routine has returned to my life I should be able to catch up on some correspondence. I'm sorry this newsletter is rather belated: March was pretty jam-packed and it has been an intimidating task to bring you up to date on all that has happened since we left Benin - this newsletter has been in various stages of writing for almost a fortnight!
I suppose the first thing to say is that we arrived safely in Liberia and that everyone is fine; that surgeries are going well; and that I continue to have a great time here. Life on the ship is many things but it's certainly not boring. The sail to Liberia proved somewhat eventful. On Monday evening after we sailed some friends and I were watching Pirates of the Caribbean in my cabin to celebrate being at sea, and at 11.30pm as we all sat there watching sleepily there was an overhead page "Fire teams one and two, please get into your suits and report to the generator room". Overhead pages after 10pm mean emergencies - we have never seen our friend Chris (IT manager and fire-team leader) move so fast. 30 seconds later the general fire-alarm went off and all over the ship sleepy crew roused, dressed and reported to muster stations in silence. After 40 minutes or so when the muster was complete the chief officer came to our muster station to explain that it had been a small fire on one of the generators which had remained under control the whole time and was now entirely extinguished. So no harm done, but I think for the whole crew it was a reminder that our safety is in God's hands. Wide-awake after the evening's drama I walked somewhat zombie-like to the Mediterranean lounge where I sat with similarly awake friends - these "adventures" certainly build a sense of community. The next day was somewhat more relaxing. I got up late and at lunch-time I sat out on deck (there was no air-conditioning again due to the damage to the generator from the fire) and saw literally hundreds of dolphins playing in the surf from the bow wave. In the evening some friends and I went up to the highest accessible deck on the ship to be out of the way of the lights and watched the stars - hundreds upon thousands of them from horizon to horizon, and the Milky Way clearly visible too. The rest of the sail continued to be eventful - a further fire (even smaller this time); bunkering for fuel oil off Abidjan, Cote d'Ivoire; more dolphins, good times with friends.
So it was with a sense of excitement and relief that we approached the port of Monrovia - to be my home until June. Liberia was founded by freed slaves who returned from America in the early nineteenth century. It's national motto is "The love of liberty brought us here", and yet the Liberian people have experienced more suffering and oppression than I would have thought possible for anyone to endure: they have not had a stable government for 25 years and the country was in a state of civil war for 14 years until 2003. There were several stretches of months of street-to-street violence in Monrovia itself - people were unable to leave their homes even to find food, and as you walk through the streets today it is hard to believe that only 18 months ago the city was in uproar as the rebels demanded that the despot president Charles Taylor step down. Now the city is getting back on it's feet in an African kind of a way - the markets are vibrant and there is a constant flow of taxis and white UN vehicles on the roads. But the scars of war are all around:as you cross the bridge in the centre of the town every lamp-post is riddled with holes; I cannot imagine what it must have been like to be here when the air was so thick with bullets.
Arriving in Monrovia was an overwhelming experience: it seemed that the ship's arrival was symbolic of the new hope in Liberia. The local churches had organised a huge arrival ceremony with the national army band, a full gospel choir, an excellent inter-tribal troupe of tradtional dancers called "Crusaders for Peace" who extended a traditional welcome gift of Kola nuts. The president's representative, the UN and US ambassadors, the leader of the Liberian Council of Churches and more archbishops than you could shake a stick at all spoke to welcome the ship and to express their excitement. We felt glad that they were so obviously glad to see us but I was worried that their expectation of what we could do was unrealistic. But it wasn't really the time for pragmatism - they were determined to throw us a party. A local soloist sang an extremely catchy number "War is Over - come on everybody let's praise God!" and the usually reserved crowd of Anastasis crew danced on the decks. Everything in Liberia rides on this fragile peace: elections are scheduled for October and with over 50 candidates choosing the right man is a daunting prospect for the Liberian people.
During the break between the end of surgery in Benin and restarting in Liberia was a good time for me to take stock and refocus. I had plenty of time to sit out on the deck and read my bible, write in my journal and come up with some personal goals for the outreach. Amongst them was a determination to investionships off the ship - taking opportunities to get involved with local churches and to really get a feel for Liberia. So every weekend a friend and I have gone to a little methodist church in the centre of town. It was the first indigenous (not ex-slave) Methodist church in Liberia and it's been great to get to know them. Services are long - over 2.5 hours, but the preaching has been good and it is overall an uplifting experience. It is the only church I've been to in West Africa which uses any traditional liturgy - it can be surreal: one minute we're reciting the Apostle's Creed or listening to the Eucharistic Prayer and I could be at church at home or in OLEM, the next minute my neighbours have grabbed my hands and we are singing the charming little ditty "Hold somebody, tell them that you love them, raise your arms together and praise the Lord. Brother, Jesus loves you and I love you too" (you need to imagine the enthusiastic African praise style and preferably a sort of Caribbean reggae beat...). I think my all-time favourite image of this church though is the senior pastor, a young man called Daniel, dressed in full cassock, surplice and purple stole, dancing (and I mean dancing) in front of the altar as he praises God with abandon. Last weekend my friend Katie and I led the Sunday School - 50 children between the ages of 0 and 14 - quite a handful! We decided we'd start at the beginning and taught about sin and forgiveness: it was great to see the kids who usually learn entirely by rote engaging with role play and drama - we faced a bit of a language barrier (Liberian English is deceptively named...) so drama was the way forward with these kids. We had them acting out the story of the Prodigal Son, which they enjoyed immensely. I looked at the older teenagers and realised that they do not remember a time when their country was not at war. I went to a local orphanage where we organised games and songs for children traumatised by the war - who knows what they saw, how it was that they lost their parents. It was undoubtedly a well-spent afternoon but it was hard to know whether we made any difference. But I know that knowledge of a God who loves them and who will accept and forgive them whatever they do is more valuable than all the money and toys and comfort of all the children in the West. I just hope that we can witness to him.
A handful of praise and prayer requests as I attempt to terminate this out-of-control newsletter...
- praise God for the warm welcome we received, especially for the way the local churches have done everything in their power to make things go smoothly for us
- praise God for the glorious gift of air-conditioning - finally restored to us a fortnight ago and never again to be taken for granted!
- pray for the Liberian people - that peace would remain, and for free and fair elections resulting in the selection of a godly leader for this country.
- pray for continued good relationships for Katie and myself with the methodist church - that we would be an encouragement to them to persevere; for their senior pastor Daniel and his wife Viola that they would lead the church in truth and integrity
- pray for me for perseverance and enthusiasm in my work even on Monday mornings... (the novelty of cleaning and sterilising wears off from time to time)
- and pray that as I start preparing to come home God would drum some of the lessons I've learnt securely enough into my brain that they would make a lasting impact on how I live when I return.
Congratulations - you made it through - only a couple more newsletters to go before I come home and can tell you about everything in the flesh you may all have to just tell me when I go on for toooo long about it: that was definitely the abridged version of the last 6 weeks!
Have a great week,
lots of love,
Rosie... Read more!
I feel like I've fallen somewhat out of touch with the world beyond Mercy Ships in the last month or so but now outreach is back underway in Liberia and some degree of normal routine has returned to my life I should be able to catch up on some correspondence. I'm sorry this newsletter is rather belated: March was pretty jam-packed and it has been an intimidating task to bring you up to date on all that has happened since we left Benin - this newsletter has been in various stages of writing for almost a fortnight!
I suppose the first thing to say is that we arrived safely in Liberia and that everyone is fine; that surgeries are going well; and that I continue to have a great time here. Life on the ship is many things but it's certainly not boring. The sail to Liberia proved somewhat eventful. On Monday evening after we sailed some friends and I were watching Pirates of the Caribbean in my cabin to celebrate being at sea, and at 11.30pm as we all sat there watching sleepily there was an overhead page "Fire teams one and two, please get into your suits and report to the generator room". Overhead pages after 10pm mean emergencies - we have never seen our friend Chris (IT manager and fire-team leader) move so fast. 30 seconds later the general fire-alarm went off and all over the ship sleepy crew roused, dressed and reported to muster stations in silence. After 40 minutes or so when the muster was complete the chief officer came to our muster station to explain that it had been a small fire on one of the generators which had remained under control the whole time and was now entirely extinguished. So no harm done, but I think for the whole crew it was a reminder that our safety is in God's hands. Wide-awake after the evening's drama I walked somewhat zombie-like to the Mediterranean lounge where I sat with similarly awake friends - these "adventures" certainly build a sense of community. The next day was somewhat more relaxing. I got up late and at lunch-time I sat out on deck (there was no air-conditioning again due to the damage to the generator from the fire) and saw literally hundreds of dolphins playing in the surf from the bow wave. In the evening some friends and I went up to the highest accessible deck on the ship to be out of the way of the lights and watched the stars - hundreds upon thousands of them from horizon to horizon, and the Milky Way clearly visible too. The rest of the sail continued to be eventful - a further fire (even smaller this time); bunkering for fuel oil off Abidjan, Cote d'Ivoire; more dolphins, good times with friends.
So it was with a sense of excitement and relief that we approached the port of Monrovia - to be my home until June. Liberia was founded by freed slaves who returned from America in the early nineteenth century. It's national motto is "The love of liberty brought us here", and yet the Liberian people have experienced more suffering and oppression than I would have thought possible for anyone to endure: they have not had a stable government for 25 years and the country was in a state of civil war for 14 years until 2003. There were several stretches of months of street-to-street violence in Monrovia itself - people were unable to leave their homes even to find food, and as you walk through the streets today it is hard to believe that only 18 months ago the city was in uproar as the rebels demanded that the despot president Charles Taylor step down. Now the city is getting back on it's feet in an African kind of a way - the markets are vibrant and there is a constant flow of taxis and white UN vehicles on the roads. But the scars of war are all around:as you cross the bridge in the centre of the town every lamp-post is riddled with holes; I cannot imagine what it must have been like to be here when the air was so thick with bullets.
Arriving in Monrovia was an overwhelming experience: it seemed that the ship's arrival was symbolic of the new hope in Liberia. The local churches had organised a huge arrival ceremony with the national army band, a full gospel choir, an excellent inter-tribal troupe of tradtional dancers called "Crusaders for Peace" who extended a traditional welcome gift of Kola nuts. The president's representative, the UN and US ambassadors, the leader of the Liberian Council of Churches and more archbishops than you could shake a stick at all spoke to welcome the ship and to express their excitement. We felt glad that they were so obviously glad to see us but I was worried that their expectation of what we could do was unrealistic. But it wasn't really the time for pragmatism - they were determined to throw us a party. A local soloist sang an extremely catchy number "War is Over - come on everybody let's praise God!" and the usually reserved crowd of Anastasis crew danced on the decks. Everything in Liberia rides on this fragile peace: elections are scheduled for October and with over 50 candidates choosing the right man is a daunting prospect for the Liberian people.
During the break between the end of surgery in Benin and restarting in Liberia was a good time for me to take stock and refocus. I had plenty of time to sit out on the deck and read my bible, write in my journal and come up with some personal goals for the outreach. Amongst them was a determination to investionships off the ship - taking opportunities to get involved with local churches and to really get a feel for Liberia. So every weekend a friend and I have gone to a little methodist church in the centre of town. It was the first indigenous (not ex-slave) Methodist church in Liberia and it's been great to get to know them. Services are long - over 2.5 hours, but the preaching has been good and it is overall an uplifting experience. It is the only church I've been to in West Africa which uses any traditional liturgy - it can be surreal: one minute we're reciting the Apostle's Creed or listening to the Eucharistic Prayer and I could be at church at home or in OLEM, the next minute my neighbours have grabbed my hands and we are singing the charming little ditty "Hold somebody, tell them that you love them, raise your arms together and praise the Lord. Brother, Jesus loves you and I love you too" (you need to imagine the enthusiastic African praise style and preferably a sort of Caribbean reggae beat...). I think my all-time favourite image of this church though is the senior pastor, a young man called Daniel, dressed in full cassock, surplice and purple stole, dancing (and I mean dancing) in front of the altar as he praises God with abandon. Last weekend my friend Katie and I led the Sunday School - 50 children between the ages of 0 and 14 - quite a handful! We decided we'd start at the beginning and taught about sin and forgiveness: it was great to see the kids who usually learn entirely by rote engaging with role play and drama - we faced a bit of a language barrier (Liberian English is deceptively named...) so drama was the way forward with these kids. We had them acting out the story of the Prodigal Son, which they enjoyed immensely. I looked at the older teenagers and realised that they do not remember a time when their country was not at war. I went to a local orphanage where we organised games and songs for children traumatised by the war - who knows what they saw, how it was that they lost their parents. It was undoubtedly a well-spent afternoon but it was hard to know whether we made any difference. But I know that knowledge of a God who loves them and who will accept and forgive them whatever they do is more valuable than all the money and toys and comfort of all the children in the West. I just hope that we can witness to him.
A handful of praise and prayer requests as I attempt to terminate this out-of-control newsletter...
- praise God for the warm welcome we received, especially for the way the local churches have done everything in their power to make things go smoothly for us
- praise God for the glorious gift of air-conditioning - finally restored to us a fortnight ago and never again to be taken for granted!
- pray for the Liberian people - that peace would remain, and for free and fair elections resulting in the selection of a godly leader for this country.
- pray for continued good relationships for Katie and myself with the methodist church - that we would be an encouragement to them to persevere; for their senior pastor Daniel and his wife Viola that they would lead the church in truth and integrity
- pray for me for perseverance and enthusiasm in my work even on Monday mornings... (the novelty of cleaning and sterilising wears off from time to time)
- and pray that as I start preparing to come home God would drum some of the lessons I've learnt securely enough into my brain that they would make a lasting impact on how I live when I return.
Congratulations - you made it through - only a couple more newsletters to go before I come home and can tell you about everything in the flesh you may all have to just tell me when I go on for toooo long about it: that was definitely the abridged version of the last 6 weeks!
Have a great week,
lots of love,
Rosie... Read more!
posted by Rosie @ 11:28 PM
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