Sunday, May 19, 2013

"Memories"


Dear Family and Friends,

 I am trying something new- a Blog! I have never done this before and hope it is not too hard. I read Blogging for Dummies but it was too advanced. So I am now using  the theory-"It is what it is!" So hope all of you have your patient panties on till I figure out what I am doing!!

In mid April, Ken and I were invited to go to Kinshasa, Democratic Republic of Congo (DRC). We will be substitute "missionaries." We will be volunteer host and hostess at the Methodist,Presbyterian Hostel (MPH) from early June through early October. (Cindy and Clay Dunn will get a well deserved break after three years at MPH!) We will get to use our French and Tshiluba- hopefully we have not forgotten it!  ;-) We have been speaking it to each other here at home. This hostel is a place for church workers, missionaries and short term mission volunteer groups coming to Congo to stay. It is used on their way in or out of the country or for meetings. When Cindy and Clay get back in early October we will go up country for a few weeks to visit Ken's sister, Marcia, at Tshikaji (one of the stations where she and Ken lived as kids). We will also stop for a visit in Belgium on the way home. When Congo belonged to Belgium we spent a year in Brussels as our parents learned French. We both remember the addresses we had to memorize as kids in a foreign country. So we hope to go see the "pensions" where we lived. We get back stateside October 25th. We are so excited! Bucket list of " Return to Congo" - CHECK!!


Ken and Sisters
Ken's parents went out to Congo from Texas in 1939-dodging German U-Boats all the way. My parents went out in the early 1950's from South Carolina observing crocodiles on the Congo River. Guess it was predestined that we meet. Ken has the patience of Job and God sent me all the way to Congo to find him!! It was all providential as we have-because of his patience- been married 45 years this summer!

We love the scenes in the movie, "Out of Africa" and watch it often. We understand Karen and feel her pain as she leaves the people and the land she has come to love. We are now thrilled to be going home- "Back to Africa" - the land we loved first.

As we have been thinking of what we are off to do, we have been sharing so many past memories (well, duh- what other kind of memories are there but past!??) of growing up in the Congo. How blessed we were to live so many years in this beautiful land and with these amazing people.

For those of you who don't know me well.... I have a ??? dry,weird,sick, sense of humor. I will try to behave on my posts...but no guarantees! I will not even try to be grammatically correct. Get ready for run on sentences and fragments- what ever these are!  I will write like I talk- all the time and all over the place. I will also try like the experienced missionaries tell the new missionaries coming home to the US for their first furlough- now called Itineration Assigmnent-" keep lying to a minimum?" ;-) Fifty years of memories of a magical time may be dimmed by "Part Timers". We'll see!

We have several theories we want to check out while we are there. Are our memories right? Are the smells the same? Are the smiles still as welcoming? Are the sounds the same ones in our memory's ear? Are the stars still as bright? Is the Native food still sooo delicious? Is it still" home?


Since we both went out as such young children, Congo was the "land we knew first." We each wore our pith helmets with pride. We learned Tshiluba faster that our parents! We had to- we had new friends with whom we wanted to play. Ken went out as an infant so Tshiluba is his native tongue. He says he still thinks in it and then translates to English! As a young girl, I expressed to my parents my concern about my new, mostly naked friends. I could not tell the boys from the girls- because they all shaved their heads. I guess this relieved my parents!

We are wondering has the 21st  Century arrived? Considering I am going to be using Wifi to communicate with you, it has arrived to some degree. We know some things are not as good as they were when we were in Congo 50 years ago. We hear the main streets of Kinshasa are ok, with even some street lights. But a few blocks off these  main streets roads are dirt and full of pot holes. I'll keep you posted on the changes as we see and experience them. Other "mish"kids who have returned to Congo have many various views and reactions from good, bad, sad, to anger. Change is hard. I guess the only person who likes a change is a baby!! Heck how much has the good ole US of A changed since we came home in 1959 and 1960!!Wow! And we are not even a third world country! Plus, I don't think we can say we are perfect! ;-)

Some of you who did not grow up in Congo, have asked me to tell a little bit of what it was like for us when we were there last. You felt that then you could better understand the changes we are seeing.  So I will try. As they say in Texas-- "Hang on to your bootstraps!"

HOMES and FOOD
Many of our homes were made of sun dried brick or stone. Seldom wood- Termites!  We had tin roofs- complete with lightning rods. Our floors were cement - stained or painted- before it was the fashionable thing to do. We had mahogany armoires instead of closets.- termites did not usually eat them. So our clothes stayed pretty safe. Our toy chests  were also mahogany and we quickly learned to pick up our toys and put them away. Termites would eat the non-metal toys- sometimes overnight- and there were no stores for more. ( I blame this for my neat freakishness- though Ken did not get the same disease!! ;-) ) The furniture was kept an inch or so away from the walls. Each day the houseboy swept the walls to knock down the ant hills that had formed overnight.
Our bed legs were set into large Tuna fish cans with kerosene in them. This kept critters from crawling up to join us in bed. We slept under mosquito nets that the houseboy had tucked all around except for an area left to crawl into bed. We quickly learned how to tuck that part in after we crawled into bed. This was to keep more critters from jumping in with us by dropping off of the ceiling or flying in.  In the states kids are taught to look left and right and not to speak to strangers as basic daily rules. We were taught to tap the heels of our shoes on the floor before putting them on to be sure what had crawled in was knocked out. Since there were few cars, looking left and right was useless. We were taught to look up and down for what was on the ground or in the trees. It was second nature. (Nearly got hit when we returned to the states- not trained for that left -right stuff!)
We had wood burning stoves. Irons were filled with charcoal- so clothes - often had little ember burns.Refrigerators were run on kerosene. ( Ice cream was a special event- when ice from various homes was all pooled together, churned by hand, and we kids each got a scoop!)  During dry season we had Coleman lanterns- the OLD style!! During rainy season we had electric lights- one bulb per room -if the hydro was working. The light would often dim or go off when a curious critter got too close and got caught in the motor. If it was a small critter the lights would brighten back up when the critter had been ground all up!  At my house we had "running water!" The sentry would make multiple trips to the river/lake and fill up buckets and "run" the water back. He would then fill two fifty gallon drums. Then  he would light a fire under one drum outside- next to the bathroom wall and we'd have cold and hot water in the sink and cement formed tub. (We learned to sit still in it and nearly broke our necks when we got home to a tub in the states!)
Our canned groceries and ALL other supplies needed for four years were either shipped ahead or came with us on the river boat.It took a huge truck to deliver the groceries. Can you imagine making that grocery list!!The fun thing was that as it arrived many missionaries and Native help all kindly showed up and organized the putting of four years of groceries into the pantry. The pantry was a huge, long ,thin building out behind our house.It was lined with row after row of mahogany shelves. The groceries were arranged in alphabetical order - at least at my house, anyway- and the names of what was in each row was painted on the shelves in red paint. (for some reason the ants did not eat red paint!)  Within a day or so- at the most- all the labels had been eaten off by the termites and the pantry was a sea of silver and copper colored cans! If one picked up a can of green beans and changed one's mind, you put it back in the exact spot!! A silver can of green beans sounds just like a silver can of brussel sprouts! We even had canned Aunt Jemima pancake mix - it was canned special  for us with the name but no picture on the can. Fifty gallon drums were used to safely store paper and clothing products.

Parents also brought clothes for us for the next four years. Can you imagine guessing sizes? What if your child within a year of arrival, took after Great Aunt Hattie ( a lady known for her great girth) or Uncle Ichabod Crane- all skin and bones? Also brought were four years of  Christmas gifts and Santa Clause. He amazingly always got it right- or were we convinced to ask for what was packed? Don't know, but Christmas was a magical time! We learned as young kids that you never ripped the Christmas paper or cut the ribbons. They had to be used again next year!....Reminds me...Same for wax paper and aluminum foil- washed and used again!!

Meals were a lot like here in the states with substitutes as necessary. Lots of fresh products.  Mango sauce instead of applesauce. Belli Bellies instead of cranberries. Peli Peli instead of jalapenos- and they make a jalapeno taste cool. Papayas instead of cantaloupes. Boiled, shelled peanuts instead of black eyed peas. Fried plantain chips instead of Lays. A back yard full of pineapple plants and trees full of avocados, mangoes, guavas, and citrus trees with huge fruit. My South Carolina Mother took out a four year supply of grits! Hot dogs were in cans- not Vienna sausage- hot dogs. (some thought we were cannibals because roasted fingers are a delacy!) Oh, and cans of SPAM!!!! All bread goods were baked at home by the cook. Our dads often hunted and shared fresh meat with other families on the station. My mom also bought meat at the back door from Native hunters. She always required that the skin still be attached to the meat so she could tell what it was and not have to worry if it was a "who." Dad killed a hippo once and it floated up fast so it was safe to eat. We had a huge station pot luck supper. No, it did not taste like chicken! It tasted like beef.
Then there is the elephant recipe. Kill it. Get it home. Cut into bite size pieces- may take a few days.Plan to feed at least 400. If more are expected you can add two rabbits. But be careful. Some folks don't like hare in their food!! Hey!! I warned you!!

We kids never had to worry about getting a snack or a good meal We could go eat with the Natives. Weren't supposed to cause of stomach issues. But we did that AND drank water from the spigot instead of going all the way to the kitchen to get the boiled water- and we were less sick that our folks!! The Natives served cassava flower made into a thick gruel called Bedia. Using your right hand, you would get a pinch of Bedia, a pinch of greens, dip it in the palm oil gravy, get a pinch of the day's cooked meat- ants, other bugs, rats, monkey, fish, and stuff we didn't ask about. It was beyond cool and wonderful ! Probably the one thing we are most looking forward to having again!!

PETS, ROADS,SCHOOL, AND ILLNESS
Pets varied from station to station and parents to parents. Ken and/or I had cats, dogs, African Gray Parrots, donkeys, goats, mongoose/mongeese/ mongooses?? and monkeys. We gave our extra kittens to the lepers at the leprosy colony. They did not eat them. Instead they kept them in their huts to hunt mice. With leprosy one does not have feelings in toes and fingers. So the lepers could sleep safely.

Roads  were at the mercy of Mother Nature's moods and the season. Mud or sand and one was no better than the other. Bridges were often two boards that the car's tires had to be lined up on.  Two canoes with boards lashed between them  served as a ferry and was pulled across by rope. No McDonalds  for restroom breaks. Restroom breaks were where we kids needed them . If we were on our own we had to watch out not to choose the sharp grass or a plant similar to our American " leaves of three" to use as toilet paper.If we were with parents we were given toilet paper or Kleenex.

School was taught by our mothers for grades 1-3. For grades 4-12 we went off to boarding school unless we lived on the station where the school was. Can you imagine sending your nine year old off?
The missionary teachers tried to keep us about six months ahead of schools in America, so at least we did not have to deal with that cultural shock when we came home to the US. Kids from multiple denominations all came to Central School. We had two months off in the summer and one at Christmas. Every Saturday we talked to our parents by short wave radio. The younger kids made it a hoot! It was like Camp Granada all over again. " Hello Mudder, Hello Fadder..."

We got the usual illness as kids get in the states. In spite of mosquito nets and our variations of quinine, we got malaria. For the most part it is like multiplying the worst case of flu you have ever had by a bunch- especially if it is a bad case!! There aren't enough blankets to get warm!!
With cats as pets we often had to deal with rabies. So when a case was seen on the stations sick and healthy cats had to "go." We'd eventually get new kittens from stations without a rabies outbreak. Another missionary's cat got rabies and bit my dad.  He and the other men drove around till they found that cat and others. The cat's head was sent off but Dad went on and started the shots the next day. It was rabid.

Army ants are like the ones you see on the Animal Planet channel. All of the snakes in our area were poisonous except one- according to Uncle Bill and Uncle Johnny. It's the python! Well, isn't that special!!(Ken's sister- the last time she was in Congo kept getting robbed. So she got a python and when home kept him/Simon in a cage. When she left she let him out. He loved sunning in the windows. The natives figures she had special medicine/powers since she could live with a python. No more robberies. Great guard dog!
 
CHURCH
Well,we were missionaries after all. That took almost all day every Sunday. The drums called us to Native church which started in the mornings.Women sat on one side and men on the other. The service went on for several hours- felt like days to kids! It was in Tshiluba so at first we understood nothing but had to pretend we did and could not go to sleep.All of the choirs had to sing- great harmony and beat! The preacher had to be sure we got the message so he said it several ways!! In the afternoon we had missionary Sunday School. Then Sunday night we had Missionary church- in English. Usually longer than we kids thought necessary. The men took turns preaching each Sunday night. Good News/ Bad News!!Evangelistic guys usually did ok. The others... well at least they were short winded! Unless they had a recording of a Columbia Seminary professor's two hour lecture on tape and hit play!! Some Sundays we went out to villages with our parents to hold services. Same format except we had to balance on small log pews.

So now you know some of our memories and experiences of long ago. Will write again when we are settled at MPH. Feel free to ask questions  and I'll get to them ASAP.



2 comments:

  1. I'm so glad you're doing a blog! You're off to a good start with the memories. Enjoyed them. I know you'll be really busy till you get situated, but I look forward to hearing your first impressions of Africa after all these years. Keep writing! We're keeping you in our thoughts & prayers. Love, Betty (& Ron)

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  2. This is wonderful, Lenore! You have given such a good, accurate picture of the way life was back then. Thanks for this - and keep it up!! You're a natural blogger, girl!!!
    Listen to the wind in the palm trees for me, please, and you'll understand why I fell apart at Lubondai in 1988 when I went back with Charlotte.
    Love you and Ken - and will keep you in my prayers!! Katie

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