Today, I attended a Liberian funeral. Well, part of one. It is something I wanted to experiene - a funeral, a wedding, some kind of event outside the normal day to day activities. But in true Liberian fashion, timing was not quite right. The truck was having problems this morning. The Wesley family was dropped off at 10 am just at the start of the service (I was supposed to be ready at 9). Vman, the friend of Pastor's who has been my driver, came to get me and Anita and we got to the service about 11:15. Turns out that was only half way through the service! And really, a little to my disappointment, it was like any other Catholic funeral I have been to. Though ventilation was not great so the incense was thick and smoky.
We were supposed to go to the gravesite, but that did not happen due to mechanical issues again. So, I think we gave up (that's what it seemed to me). And they were worried because I was supposed to meet with a CMA family back in Rehab (we were on Bushrod Island - about 45 minutes away). So with 9(!) of us in the truck, we made the rounds to drop off a few people and then headed for my interview. I really have not felt negative on this trip about the heat or how long things take and I have had amazing energy levels (though I do sleep like the dead!). But I might have felt like I was edging closer to a bad attitude than I liked on this little journey. I was hot and I didn't understand most of the service and I didn't really get to experience most of it. But I did get the food at the end of the service - a chickin drumstick and a bun with tuna in a brown paper bag - well, by that point, a greasy, brown paper bag. I have so many things running through my mind. But I am at the same time thankful that I am here for a month, so I can take part in all this - for lack of better term - chaos. The conversations I can have and the laughs we share are priceless. God really has given me an extra dose of fortitude on this trip so that I can be present even when I want to bail and run for the cold shower.
And, since I am actually present, I was able to look at some land and a building for sale a few days earlier. Vman took me to walk around the property. It is a massive building in disrepair (to put it nicely - imagine many years of civil war and no rebuilding) on an acre of land. And there is about 30 people living there. The price is ...wait for it...$250,000US! You have got to be kidding! And never mind that we have not even started to fundraise!. It is way overpriced (I am not the only one who thinks so) but I guess the housing market everywhere is overpriced! Apparently the president of Liberia has a house in Rehab and that has caused land and home prices to skyrocket. And walking around the place, it is hard to give past the enormouse amounts of dirt, garbage, damage, and smell. And what do I know about building foundations? The "caretaker" of the property shouted at me to stop taking photos (not sure why) and I think that might have been his only job! He is not the real caretaker or owner but apparently enjoys a free place to stay and is found hanging out in the back of the building on the pulled out seats of an old van.
Fraud is a real thing here in regards to land. People will try to sell land that is not their own so you have to be very diligent to find the real owner. And we were trying to arrange when we could meet with the caretaker (before I leave...) and is he the real owner or a caretaker or a relative? And then Pastor calls Vman and tells me I need to call this caretaker. Why????? Because apparently a white person being involved gives them legitimacy (which I knew but still). So I call him, nervous that I won't be able to understand his LIB English but he sounds like he has spent significant time in the US. He has several pieces of property for sale. He wants to us to come to his office right then but I said no. Tomorrow we are doing that. And it is all almost comical because I have NO money. AND also could not tell you if this structure is stable or anything. So I am trying to embrace being present, having a conversation and if nothing else, getting the word out that the white woman is looking for land (she says tongue in cheek).
As I type this, I am glad to be here and I also kind of want to cry. I am not special but because I am white in Liberia, I am. I am treated with extreme care, making sure I am eating plenty, and not crossing the road unsupervised, or even carrying my own stuff. Sometimes, as I am waving at everyone I pass, I say to myself "Jaye's national tour of Liberia." Shaking hands and kissing babies. Don't get me wrong. I love the people and I love being here. But it is a little disconcerting. I am no one special and yet I feel so honored by their care and interest in me. I think the interest maybe dies down the longer I am here and I have gotten to know the community a little bit. But the kids all still stare. The best moments are like today, when I got out of the truck and walked into the yard, I heard kids from school shouting my name. Ironically, the family I interviewed today lives (squats) on the property for sale.
I am visiting schools and families until I leave on Wednesday. I guess I am discussing land prices in a foreign country. I am offering words of encouragment to a church leadership team I do not know. I will make the most of every moment, and be present no matter how strange or awkard it might feel or how sweaty I am! Being present is always the best way for relationships to grow. And God uses every moment whether it makes sense or not. I just have to be in it.