

June 12th, Brian
What's out there? Last night, I was able to speak with the owner of the house, Bouk. His English is a lot better than my French. He is in Dapaong for a funeral that had events lasting several days, and he is staying for business. He is an entrepreneur, with some real estate, a tree farm and other ventures. A very nice man, not yet a believer. That fact was a little awkward for us, as he was grieving the loss of his Muslim friend. What words of comfort can we offer? His perspective of life in Africa, though, brought an appreciation of several ‘luxuries’ to me.
9:30pm I tried to enjoy a Flag bier, and forget that I ate too much at the restaurant while I plugged in all the camera batteries. The ceilings fans were on, but it’s a tick hot. I will get my AC tuned on so it will cool off and be a somewhat decent temperature for nite-nite time in an hour or so. Bouk micro waved some leftovers, and got a cold drink. That is what spawned an enlightenment. He was drinking filtered water! I thought Africans where more or less immune to any water borne disease, such as typhoid. But first, let me set the scene…
The house we are staying in is a 4 bedroom, 2 story (plus the roof deck). It is the nicest house we have seen since landing in Africa, other than possibly the local Governor’s house close by. We have a cook, and a guard. I have a nice private room, with AC and a comfy bed. I have a private bath since Bill and Matthew sleep upstairs ( I snore). The house is situated on the highest hill surrounded for miles (20 in each direction) by flat plains. We have running water, something Bouk reminded me that very few in the area have. I have not enjoyed hot water yet, which really opens your eyes wide and makes you gasp when stepping into a shower, even in hot Africa. Most drink and use water from rivers, the same that animals use. Illness is frequent. Clearly, Bouk is a wealthy man here.
Just 200 yards away, is the local television station. I am not sure who watches it, other than a few wealthy people, or some bars. It is guarded with military personnel. Communication is a first target in war. Driving by a young man, or men with semi-automatic rifles casually slung over their neck, will make you sit up straight, smile and hide the camera. We have been warned by Pastor Glenn, and Matthew, no pictures!
All around us, as Bouk reminded me, are mud huts. The cloak of darkness hides reality when Bill, Matthew and I, sit and talk on the roof while gazing over Dapaong. A few lights make it look like Anytown, USA. He reminded me that out there, under the star filled sky, there are no kitchens, no running water, never mind hot. No electricity, or anything that goes with it. Coffee makers, microwaves, refrigerators, lights, shavers, can openers, TV, computers, fans, AC. That means no ice cream, cold beer, stored food, leftovers, light, cool relief, internet. There is little privacy and plenty of dirt.
There are many buildings here without roofs on them. Pastor Glenn told me that anyone who has money will not put it in the bank, as they are unstable and/or may be taken over during war, and saving it or having any extra, means that you would have to take care of any family member who needs it. And families here are large. Kids take care of parents when older, that’s retirement. So the more kids you have, the better likelihood of a comfortable ‘retirement’.
He noted that the people scurrying around the market can deceive one who does not take a deeper look. The woman have lovely colorful clothing, as do the children. The women are busy carrying things, always with their head somehow. Huge bundles of branches, trays of fruit marketed so that they are as appealing as possible, just anything. Where are they going? They seem happy, at least to me. Everyone waves at the white people, so maybe that’s unrepresentative. Come to think of it, I don’t hear laughter, or see them hugging, but there are quite friendly to us. They don’t seem to be complaining, or arguing. What good would that do, if you don’t get the wood home, you don’t cook! It is the time square of Dapaong, in some regards. It’s very busy. Horns toot from mopeds and an infrequent car. Trucks wiz by. There is a lot of commerce happening here! It almost alive, and like NY, you can’t help but wonder, …did that woman close a big deal today? Did she sell X amount of beans? How about that cloth stand over there, good sales today? Did they beat their quota? I wonder if the shop owner we saw again today will be blessed by our purchases, and say “Honey, lets go out to dinner tonight.”
But tonight, when the smiles and waves are gone, the stands and stores closed, they will be sleeping on the ground in a mud hut with a straw roof.
Living in this house in this area isn’t all that great. My cell phone doesn’t work, I can only call home every 2 days or so until we leave, I forgot my favorite shirt and shampoo (I know, what does he need that for) I bought for the trip. The beer is not as good as Budweiser, the shower is cold, the running water has to be filtered, the refrigerator doesn’t work that great, the roads are very bumpy in a car and the electricity goes out on a daily basis.
Wow, am I blessed.