Last year at this time, Dave and I were preparing for our missions trip to Africa. My heart is just longing to return to Africa. :) To fight off the desire for travel, I have decided to share a couple of excerpts from our last trip to Africa. Below is the third journal entry from our travels.
I awoke in Paris this morning to Dave's smiling face--"Today we go to Benin!"
We quickly and excitedly packed our bags and prepared for our day's journey. Before we bid farewell to Paris, we look forward to meeting up with a few friends for coffee. These two friends of ours from the USA have just finished a missions trip to Turkey and are now traveling across Europe. Today, we meet in Paris!
We enjoyed our fellowship with these brothers. They have been earnestly seeking open doors of opportunity to speak the Gospel, in a country that is ruled and governed by Islam. They shared stories of Gospel opportunities that they have had already. We listened with excitement. I am thankful for these brothers who have been faithfully ministering the Gospel. Thankful that they too recognize that a trip abroad is not simply for leisure and enjoyment, it is sovereignly ordained by God to direct us to those who have yet to hear the Good News. As we parted ways, we pray together for open doors on our continued journeys.
We took our luggage in a taxi to catch our first train. Our Muslim taxi driver was very kind. It is interesting to be surrounded with so many religions and nationalities. I wish that there were no language barriers, so that we could clearly share the Truth with this man.
Next, we braved the train system. What a task to get through the subway connectors with four bags-constantly watching out for pickpockets and thieves. After many transfers and mishaps, we were finally on the train that would take us to Airport Charles de Gaulle.
We sat down on the train next to a Beninois man, Yaovi. He was ecstatic to find that we were headed to his home country. We immediately became his friend. This is the African way. :)
He would be traveling back to Benin within the week, and he wanted to meet up with us when we were there. In fact, we learned that we are staying in his exact neighborhood! Again, we are reminded that these meetings are not by chance.
Our new friend was pleased to help us navigate through the airport, directly to our terminal. Unfortunately, as we waited, we were met by other Beninois men who wanted us to travel with their bags (illegal contraband). We refused. Suddenly those robot reminders that constantly play over the loud speakers in our American airports don't sound so foolish, "Do not leave your bags unattended. Do not agree to take anything from a stranger to put in your bag. Etc."
In the airport, we passed a man whose shirt said, "Christians to the Lions." Chills ran down my spine. I was no longer in America. What a hatred! Again-never before have I experienced this hatred directed at me for my faith. We live in a safer, tamer world in USA. But, oh how desperately, this darkness needs the light of the glorious Gospel to shine.
Customs and security was FAR easier than in USA. We headed to our gate, grabbed a bite to eat, and began to board for our flight. They packed about fifty of us onto a small standing bus for transportation to our flight. The rain was pouring down and the bus was hot and sticky. We were packed like sardines on the tiny bus. For twenty minutes, the bus sat stationary with its restless inhabitants, waiting to load our plane. There were enough passengers to fill about 20% of the plane. Finally, we were released to run through the rain and board the plane.
Our flight was fairly uneventful, and after about 6 and a half hours, we landed in Benin. Cotonou, Benin, is a city on a swamp. As we were descending, we flew over a lake that was dotted with fishing nets. Upon landing, we soon found ourselves descending the stairs from the plane into a humid 85 degree evening. My heart was bursting with excitement. Since I have been a child, it has been my dream to travel to Africa for missions. I have finally come.
We were corralled into a very small "airport" to wait in line for customs. In order to enter the country, you must have a yellow paper in your passport that confirms that you've been inoculated with the yellow fever vaccine. If you had not, the men (armed with filthy latex gloves) at the end of the customs line would do the job for you. Boy, am I glad we came prepared!
We passed easily through customs and were greeted by a man who would help us get our luggage. After securing our baggage, we made our way past the armed guards, who were busy picking through everyone's luggage. Literally, they were opening every piece of luggage and rummaging through its contents. Wow. Our helper simply mentioned that Dave was a pastor, and the guards waved us right past the line and through the interrogation.
Here we were greeted with the beaming smiles of Missionaries Ken and Debbie Haley as well as their first national pastor, Pastor Michel. I have never seen a smile as big as Pastor Michel's--truly the joy of Christ radiates from this man. Dave clearly loves these dear friends-I look forward to getting to know them and serving alongside them during this trip.
After thanking God for safety during the trip, Pastor Michel jumped back on his motorcycle (or moto, as they call them here) to head home to his family. We traded in some of our American cash for the Benin currency. We loaded up our luggage and got into the Haley's LandRover truck to get a bite to eat on our way home. A few minutes away from the airport, we popped the truck up onto the road median and parked alongside the other vehicles. We passed the restaurant guards and headed into the restaurant. We ordered pizza, fries and water to hold us over 'til morning. Not the cuisine I was expecting for our first meal in Africa, but it was welcomed after the long day of travel! We followed the doctor's orders and only drank water from a water bottle--taking precautions to avoid parasites and diseases. The food was excellent and the service kind! We tipped our guards (as is customary) on the way out and we waited for our chance to dart through the quickly moving motos to get to the truck.
When we got back to the truck, Debbie joked that we would be taking a "bumpy road" to get to their apartment--bumpy roads were Dave's favorite on his last trip because he was constantly hitting his head on the window as they rode over these bumps, an ongoing joke among these friends. We weaved in and out of the flurry of motos, autos and pedestrians. Ken warned us not to make eye contact with the police, who lined every round about, as they like to pull you over for an "offense" for which you are often innocent. Their hope is to get a little extra cash out of you to line their pockets. Soon we pulled onto what I thought was the bumpy road, a cobblestone road which jostled us as we rode. About two minutes later, we pulled onto the real bumpy road. We were literally bouncing in the air off of our seats as we took the road to their house. I was amused that no one else (Dave included) seemed to take notice of the roller coaster ride--so this is Africa. :)
We drove into a neighborhood past poverty that I had never seen. Cooking fires dotted the landscape and white eyes peered at us curiously through the darkness. As we drove deeper into the neighborhood, 2-3 story apartment building started to appear within the seeming rubble. We soon arrived at the Haley's gated driveway. Debbie jumped out of the truck to open the rickety gate, and we pulled up to their apartment building. It was two stories tall. The national landlord lives on the bottom floor and the Haleys live on the second. As we stepped out of the car, 2 or 3 lizards scurried out of our path. Lizards-the non-poisonous kind that don't bite-these are one African crawling creature that I don't mind one bit. In fact, they are kind cute. :)
The Haley's showed us around their two bedroom, two bathroom apartment. Although it is simple, it is far more spacious than I expected. It is also immaculate! This is not nearly what I had imagined. I guess I wasn't exactly picturing that they'd live in a hut, but I wasn't expecting spotless tile floors. Debbie is an excellent housekeeper.
They took us up to their rooftop terrace to get a bird's eye view of the neigborhood. I was stunned to see that long with their "wealthy" apartment-dwelling neighbors, they shared the block with dozens of "tin huts." These are simply constructed, rectangular buildings which house four to six families each. The structures cannot be more than ten by forty-five feet.
It has been a long journey to Africa. It hardly seems like it was only this morning that we maneuvered through the Parisian train system. I look forward to seeing more tomorrow! Until then, with utter excitement and complete exhaustion, I try to sleep.
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