I love to teach adults! My Administrative Trainer position consists of heading off the ship four afternoons a week to train administrative staff at Bethesda Hospital in Cotonou. We work on-on-one with the hand picked trainees, and I have the privilege of working with Françoise, a 30 something mom with two children in her busy office. Her young children are 
watched by a “house girl,” quite common for those that are gainfully employed in Cotonou. Her husband is a local pastor.Once, when the four of us crew came to their hospital to work, we were invited into their equivalent to a board meeting. We were honored and thanked for our contribution of time and training and even for donating two used Mercy Ships computers as their computers regularly break down. After several board members thanked us in French, translated for our benefit, they gave us croissants and mince pies along with coca cola and pompamous, a fizzy grapefruit drink. West African culture dictates that we eat what is offered no matter what, so I am glad it was a nice choice.
We offered a workshop here on the ship on “Customer Service” with 20 participants from four area hospitals including our 4 trainees at Bethesda. I taught a section on Conflict Resolution using the models of assertiveness vs. aggressive or passive confrontations. They shook their heads in agreement as we role-played situations. Being assertive was a new concept for them and they immediately grasped its benefit. As for me, I am still learning what I taught!
Community…
Ship life continues as we work together, eat together, house together and socialize together. We had karaoke night and one must be either drunk or filled with the Holy Spirit to get up in front of others and attempt to sing! Since alcohol is prohibited on the ship, it must have been the latter that allowed us to sing and laugh until we nearly cried. I sang with three others “Dancing Queen” and then with another 79 year old lady named Suiki from the states, with her sweet voice, “Edelweiss” from Sound of Music.Dining on the ship is fairly routine. Like little
programmed robots or Pavlos’ dogs that salivate when the bell rings, our stomach juices start churning promptly at high noon or 5 p.m. We are long on white rice and chicken. Tuesdays have now become African night and it usually consists of fried plantains, a spicy red sauce and white rice and chicken. A Time for Healing…
I am leading a group on the ship called Body and Soul, assisted by my friend Joy, from London. Many people have reasons for addictions in their lives. Some of our wounds are caused by careless words and a poor self-esteem reinforced by those that should love and build us up, but end up tearing us down. Food is one of those comforts we turn to that cause us to self-sabotage. God has a better way and even missionaries, all the way in Africa, deal with the same issues as back home. God has shown me over the years my reasons for over-eating as an emotional, non-godly response to hurts in my life. Our Lord wants to heal those hurts that we try and stuff down with food. His way is always better than my way.
Sometimes our meetings are the basics of nutrition. Others are serious regarding the issues of overeating and God’s healing for many hurts in our lives. Other times we have fun at our meetings—a party one night with everyone required to bring FOOD, (a reality of parties) and at one meeting, one of the members lead us in BELLY DANCING! Sorry, no pictures of this one!
Porto Novo…..
Recently I was invited to visit the capital city of Porto Novo, northeast of Cotonou about one hour.
This was a connection of my roommate, Joan’s, association with South African Trans World Radio by a local man named Virgil. Besides working for TWR, Virgil also volunteers on the ship. He offered her a day of touring with a couple friends. Virgil hired a driver and picked us up at the ship, five of us in a small sedan. We drove at break-neck speeds over 100 kilometers per hours (60+ mph) weaving through highway traffic on very good but very congested roads.
Our first destination was Virgil’s home just outside of Porto Novo in a jungle terrain village. Inside cement perimeter walls was his family’s home guarded by a small, barking, growling dog on a chain named “Lucky.” The yard had brightly
colored Beninese fabric hanging on clothes lines in the sun. Just beyond was a small house with a porch. We were invited into the living room and sat on very warn out love seats and met his wife, Brijit, a teacher in their village, and three of their children. The eldest, Grace, age 17, served us water into crystal wine glasses. Virgil said that this was customary when visiting someone’s home as a sign of being welcome. He said that this showed the guests that you were aware of their basic need of water. He also said someone traditionally pours a few drops out of each glass on the ground to show thankfulness to the earth that waters the produce of the land.
We were next served by Accel, their 15 year old daughter, sodas of coca cola and pompamous plus cashews and a bowl of a tiny sweet baked item the size of large beads tasting like biscotti. Brijit assured us that she didn’t take the time to cut up all the dough to make this treat and bought it ready made from a street vendor. Their 8 year old son, Beni, just leaned on the turquoise colored walls and watched all of us.
Eileen, another crew member and the other guest along for the day, commented on bamboo stools she spotted in a corner and asked their purpose. Virgil said they were for stepping on like a ladder or putting things on and immediately offered one to her and one to Joan to take with us back on the ship! A cultural lesson for us is to NOT compliment or inquire about anything we see as it will immediately be offered to us a gift. Eileen and Joan tried hard to not offend them by declining to take them explaining that we live in very small cabins and truly did not have room for them.
We left the children behind and Brijit joined her husband and us for the rest of the Porto Novo tour, squeezing the sixth person. Virgil and his wife sat in the front passenger seat. He pleasantly said that “the two shall become one flesh” so there was really only one person in the seat after all.
The Life of King…
Our next stop was the Palace Royal museum in Porto Novo. In Benin and throughout much of West Africa, is a culture of kings within different regions. They do not have a political power but a major cultural power with a lifestyle all their own. The reign of the kings at this particular palace went from the 1600s to 1976 though many other regions currently have kings. The palace in Porto Novo is a one-story, basic structure with many courtyards. The life of the kings include never saying that the king was hungry when he ate but rather that he was simply tasting the food. He was never allowed to be called asleep, but rather thinking. And he was never to be referred to as dirty when he bathed, but only refreshing himself. The great honor of the king was his vast number wives—over 100! They were hand chosen by the queen mother and the beautiful chosen women were groomed and 
cleansed before entering the presence of the king. They would be at his disposal in groups for 21 days ea
ch except when they were menstruating, when they had to be hidden from his presence.
The life of a king’s wife may have been quite comfortable, but the story continues that when the king died, all the wives were buried alive with him.
One of the crew members on the ship from Ghana said he was one of the many grandsons of a king. He became a Christian in his teens and said he started a very different way of thinking and a much better way of life compared to his youth.
It was stifling hot in the palace tour. I had to sit down once because I even felt a bit queasy from the heat. At the end of the tour, there was a craftsman selling jewelry, carvings and instruments. I bought a bracelet for 2,000 cfa, or $4.00.
A Growing Experience…
After the palace we went to Centre Songhai, an agricultural, working, teaching, very impressive training ground for farming procedures. We started with lunch at their restaurant. Curry chicken and rice for me, fish and couscous for some others. Then we toured the grounds filled with maize, grain, flowers, tropical plants to import to Spain, a fish hatchery, a compost of water hyacinths and
animal feces to make a methane gas that can be piped to a cook stove! They made ceramic pots for water filtration using local soils and a huge kiln. There were endless fenced in areas with chickens, ducks and turkeys. They even farm escargot—huge size snails that they sell to upscale restaurants. One section featured an enclosed area of hundreds of small cages filled with what they called “Lawn Mowers.” Each cage held an enormous RAT! They also said the rats were good for eating. Hmmmmm. I think eating goat is about as far as I am willing to experience.
We ended our interesting tour with a visit to a covered stand where they sell pretty much anything we saw, so I bought 15 eggs (the minimum they’d allow to buy) and a jar of mango jam, totaling about $4.00. 
By the end of the day, we were quite hot and we zoomed like Mr. Toad’s Wild Ride back to Cotonou and the ship sighing as we opened the door to get a cool blast of air conditioning.
I am leading a group on the ship called Body and Soul, assisted by my friend Joy, from London. Many people have reasons for addictions in their lives. Some of our wounds are caused by careless words and a poor self-esteem reinforced by those that should love and build us up, but end up tearing us down. Food is one of those comforts we turn to that cause us to self-sabotage. God has a better way and even missionaries, all the way in Africa, deal with the same issues as back home. God has shown me over the years my reasons for over-eating as an emotional, non-godly response to hurts in my life. Our Lord wants to heal those hurts that we try and stuff down with food. His way is always better than my way.
Sometimes our meetings are the basics of nutrition. Others are serious regarding the issues of overeating and God’s healing for many hurts in our lives. Other times we have fun at our meetings—a party one night with everyone required to bring FOOD, (a reality of parties) and at one meeting, one of the members lead us in BELLY DANCING! Sorry, no pictures of this one!
Porto Novo…..
Recently I was invited to visit the capital city of Porto Novo, northeast of Cotonou about one hour.
This was a connection of my roommate, Joan’s, association with South African Trans World Radio by a local man named Virgil. Besides working for TWR, Virgil also volunteers on the ship. He offered her a day of touring with a couple friends. Virgil hired a driver and picked us up at the ship, five of us in a small sedan. We drove at break-neck speeds over 100 kilometers per hours (60+ mph) weaving through highway traffic on very good but very congested roads.Our first destination was Virgil’s home just outside of Porto Novo in a jungle terrain village. Inside cement perimeter walls was his family’s home guarded by a small, barking, growling dog on a chain named “Lucky.” The yard had brightly
colored Beninese fabric hanging on clothes lines in the sun. Just beyond was a small house with a porch. We were invited into the living room and sat on very warn out love seats and met his wife, Brijit, a teacher in their village, and three of their children. The eldest, Grace, age 17, served us water into crystal wine glasses. Virgil said that this was customary when visiting someone’s home as a sign of being welcome. He said that this showed the guests that you were aware of their basic need of water. He also said someone traditionally pours a few drops out of each glass on the ground to show thankfulness to the earth that waters the produce of the land.We were next served by Accel, their 15 year old daughter, sodas of coca cola and pompamous plus cashews and a bowl of a tiny sweet baked item the size of large beads tasting like biscotti. Brijit assured us that she didn’t take the time to cut up all the dough to make this treat and bought it ready made from a street vendor. Their 8 year old son, Beni, just leaned on the turquoise colored walls and watched all of us.
Eileen, another crew member and the other guest along for the day, commented on bamboo stools she spotted in a corner and asked their purpose. Virgil said they were for stepping on like a ladder or putting things on and immediately offered one to her and one to Joan to take with us back on the ship! A cultural lesson for us is to NOT compliment or inquire about anything we see as it will immediately be offered to us a gift. Eileen and Joan tried hard to not offend them by declining to take them explaining that we live in very small cabins and truly did not have room for them.
We left the children behind and Brijit joined her husband and us for the rest of the Porto Novo tour, squeezing the sixth person. Virgil and his wife sat in the front passenger seat. He pleasantly said that “the two shall become one flesh” so there was really only one person in the seat after all.
The Life of King…
Our next stop was the Palace Royal museum in Porto Novo. In Benin and throughout much of West Africa, is a culture of kings within different regions. They do not have a political power but a major cultural power with a lifestyle all their own. The reign of the kings at this particular palace went from the 1600s to 1976 though many other regions currently have kings. The palace in Porto Novo is a one-story, basic structure with many courtyards. The life of the kings include never saying that the king was hungry when he ate but rather that he was simply tasting the food. He was never allowed to be called asleep, but rather thinking. And he was never to be referred to as dirty when he bathed, but only refreshing himself. The great honor of the king was his vast number wives—over 100! They were hand chosen by the queen mother and the beautiful chosen women were groomed and 
cleansed before entering the presence of the king. They would be at his disposal in groups for 21 days ea
ch except when they were menstruating, when they had to be hidden from his presence.The life of a king’s wife may have been quite comfortable, but the story continues that when the king died, all the wives were buried alive with him.
One of the crew members on the ship from Ghana said he was one of the many grandsons of a king. He became a Christian in his teens and said he started a very different way of thinking and a much better way of life compared to his youth.
It was stifling hot in the palace tour. I had to sit down once because I even felt a bit queasy from the heat. At the end of the tour, there was a craftsman selling jewelry, carvings and instruments. I bought a bracelet for 2,000 cfa, or $4.00.
A Growing Experience…
After the palace we went to Centre Songhai, an agricultural, working, teaching, very impressive training ground for farming procedures. We started with lunch at their restaurant. Curry chicken and rice for me, fish and couscous for some others. Then we toured the grounds filled with maize, grain, flowers, tropical plants to import to Spain, a fish hatchery, a compost of water hyacinths and
animal feces to make a methane gas that can be piped to a cook stove! They made ceramic pots for water filtration using local soils and a huge kiln. There were endless fenced in areas with chickens, ducks and turkeys. They even farm escargot—huge size snails that they sell to upscale restaurants. One section featured an enclosed area of hundreds of small cages filled with what they called “Lawn Mowers.” Each cage held an enormous RAT! They also said the rats were good for eating. Hmmmmm. I think eating goat is about as far as I am willing to experience.
We ended our interesting tour with a visit to a covered stand where they sell pretty much anything we saw, so I bought 15 eggs (the minimum they’d allow to buy) and a jar of mango jam, totaling about $4.00. 
By the end of the day, we were quite hot and we zoomed like Mr. Toad’s Wild Ride back to Cotonou and the ship sighing as we opened the door to get a cool blast of air conditioning.
The Slave Trade in Ouidah…
Yesterday we took another, closer look at the town of Ouidah. This is the location where most people were traded in West Africa that filled many countries, including the United States with human commodities. Here people were uprooted from their homes by profit minded traders. Many people were captured from their bush villages lead by their own countryman.
We saw the rich headquarters of the Portuguese traders living quite comfortably on their profits of selling humans.
Artistic renditions do not come close to capturing the terror and horror of the slave trade. Families often were taken together into the slave trade. But in many cases, they took JUST the children leaving the parents in desperation never seeing their children again.
From the Portuguese compound, the slaves were priced and sold and shackled around their necks in pairs to march the several mile path to the awaiting ship at sea. Along the way were many stops to attempt to break their spirit and not fight back. If a man or woman rebelled, they were beaten or killed on the spot.
Along the route to sea the shackled men, women and children passed the Tree of Remembrance. The location still exists, but the tree is gone. Stolen, shackled men were marched around the tree nine times to magically "forget" their country. Women, nearly naked in chains, seven times.Along the route, people fought the chains. Some rebellious of their fate were pulled out and put in a house with no light and never seen from again.
Once they reached the beach, a large row boat would ferry the men, women and children out to the awaiting ship. Many jumped off the boat to their death rather than go any further.
Once on the ship, they were laid side by side as tightly packed as they could, with no light, no way of rising from a laying position, no toilet, and some no clothes on, chained together. Many of the women were taken and raped by the seamen and many of those women were impregnated by the time they arrived in their foreign country.Virgil, the man who opened his home in Porto Novo, was our guide this day. I asked if he would have rebelled if he was stolen for the slave trade years ago. This gentle Christian man answered, "I would have been one of the ones killed because I would have rebelled being taken."
Prayers….
Prayers are always welcome. I have seen God’s hand touching broken lives both through surgeries on the ship and through imparting education off the ship. Building relationships is the key. Specific prayer requests:
• pray for Françoise to rise to her giftings from God as a leader, preacher, mom, business woman, and to increase her abilities at the local hospital in Cotonou.
• pray for the members of the Body & Soul group for healing of wounds in their lives.
• praise the my house rented!
• prayer for the many repairs needed in the house that supersedes the rent received.
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