Taxpayers:
As some of you know, but most do not, I've been involuntarily freed from the bonds of the workaday world; oddly, my career path became self-immolating. I was promoted from Whipping Boy, to Scapegoat, then finally to Sacrificial Lamb.
Fear not though dear readers, I shan't degrade this high-minded literary space with acridity; my superior intellect dispenses with such course, urbane indulgence. Rather, I shall remain unfailingly positive, seeking only the higher purposes for which I am destined.
To that end, it seems appropriate to utilize this neck-jolting foray into the abyss unsettling turn of events as inspiration for yet another edition of Speed's Top 10 - the subject of our examination today is "Top 10 Benefits of Unemployment" - here we go.
10. No more pesky calculating of remaining Vacation Leave.
9. Lunches at home - the economic benefit of monotony.
8. Fantasy office politics - you never lose!
7. Sweatpants are sooo much more comfortable than dress slacks.
6. Reviving that long-dormant relationship with your mail carrier.
5. Always available for daylight liaisons - hey, it could happen!
4. The liberation of no more meetings.
3. Gaining an appreciation for just how vacuous smart those women on The View really are.
2. No stressing over impending performance review.
1. Rediscovering the joy of poring over the Classified section.
It is my fond hope that my Speed Demons will recognize the example I've set; it's all about the lemonade, kids. Stay warm.....
Pikins:
Unplug the defibrillators, cork your anxiety; I have returned from my second home - a mere 8 degrees north of the equator - where both the weather and the reception were warm. This trip to Sierra Leone had, as its centerpiece, the dedication of the church built last year, in the village of Maboleh. However, the rest of the trip was not without excitement; permit me to regale you. ***Editor's warning: Although most of the snark has been excised from the following tome, this is a long one!***
We flew from Washington, DC to London, England on Tuesday, 2/26. Due to quirks in our flight schedules, we took advantage of a 16 hour layover and set off to explore The Big Smoke. Whooshing through the Tube at an impressive rate of speed, we soon found ourselves smack dab in front of Big Ben (it really is big). We saw that Ferris wheel thing (The Big Eye) that, frankly, would seem more at home at the Texas State Fair; I'm still not sure why it's there.
After a bit of a walk, we explored Westminster Abbey and were blown away by the history, architecture and impressive listing of its long-decomposed tenants. After a lunch of fish & chips, we made our way to Buckingham Palace, intent on visiting the Royals. Sadly, their calendar was full and we had to be content with meandering about the outer walls, with the rest of the rabble. After more brisk sight-seeing, we tubed our way back to Heathrow, to await our late-night flight to Sierra Leone.
I expected that our early-morning arrival at Lungi airport, situated near the Atlantic Ocean, just across the bay from the country's capital, Freetown, would be a raucous affair, replete with an endless stream of wanna-be baggage handlers; I was not disappointed. However this time, unlike previous visits, we did not take the ferry into Freetown to stay. Instead, we had arranged for a local boat owner to take our small party (6 of us, plus our driver - Edison) to Bunce Island, located upriver in Freetown Bay. Bunce Island has enormous historical and sociological import; it was used for years as one of the main points of embarkation for slave ships headed to the Colonies. School yourselves: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bunce_Island
Once there, we spent an hour or so checking out the ruins of the buildings that once housed hundreds at a time, 17th century cannons simply lying on the ground - still in a defensive posture, pointed out to sea - and visiting the abandoned cemeteries for both the whites and blacks that died on the island. This was at once an awesome and sobering experience; I feel privileged to have seen this.
It was on our return trip to the dock, that trouble ensued. Approximately a mile from completing our voyage, the boat ran out of gas. I'll spare you my usual rantings; suffice it to say, we were actually "dead in the water". Our intrepid Skipper seemed flummoxed, but eventually summoned enough reason to call for help on his cell phone. He calmly assured us that help was on the way - should be no more than 15 minutes or so. This proved to be the first of many overly-optimistic assessments made during our time in country. All the while, his 1st (and only) mate Gilligan, sprang into action and attempted to paddle us home, with what appeared to be a car's license plate holder. While he earned kudos for the effort, his actions had no positive effect, apart from entertainment.
At this juncture, a mutinous spirit swept the craft, and we passengers took matters into our own hands by waving down a passing fishing boat. After some initial wrangling over the price they'd charge to tow us in (started at 400,000 Leones <a little less than $100>, ended at 50,000 Leones <a little over $10>), we lashed ourselves to their boat and hung on! The ride back was a spray-filled event, that also gave the locals an opportunity to show off their morning's catch. After finally rendezvousing with the rescue party summoned an hour or so earlier, we limped back in to shore. We immediately set off by car for Makeni, and our home for the next 5 nights, the Women Of Hope guest house. Arriving in late afternoon, we ate and settled in for a nice warm night's sleep.
Our time in Makeni, a large city about 7 miles from our village of Maboleh, was spent mostly in activities related to the village's primary school, and the dedication of the church we built last year. Our first & second day in the village was spent serving as dignitaries for the primary school's All Sports Day. This is a sort of all-school Olympics (obviously scaled back from the wretched excess the real Olympics have become).Typical sporting events such as distance races, relays & sack races dotted the program; of additional interest were the "non-traditional" events, such as spoon/egg racing, blowing up the balloon racing, knowing your numbers racing, and a mind-blowing version of that well-known standard Musical Chairs. The event that topped off the proceedings was the Dance-Contest. The best, and most charitable way to describe this is to think Showgirls meets Sesame Street - OMG!!!
The two day event was a competition between 4 teams, or Houses. The Red House, the Green House, the Blue House & the Yellow House were pitted against one another, with each of the 4 male missionaries assigned to a particular house. Your author was assigned to the Green House - "Mighty Conteh House", and when all the results were tallied (and, to the surprise of no one) the Green House prevailed! Pictured is the celebratory winner's trophy and house-master hoist.
Sunday dawned, and the centerpiece of our trip was at hand - the dedication of the church we built in the village last year. Long-time readers will remember the history of this project - we razed a decaying mud-block church built in 1979 and replaced it with a cement-block structure designed to serve that village and the surrounding community for years to come. Dignitaries from both the United Methodist Church and tribal hierarchy were festooned in their finest regalia. The nearly 4 hour service was comprised of much singing, dancing, speech making and collection taking (5 collections in all); but honestly, the time flew, as both the celebratory mood and sweat flowed like a river.
After the ceremony, we joined with all in attendance for a feast prepared by the women of the church. We had funded this event, and portions of rice, chicken, fish and heaven knows what other hoofed, beaked or finned delicacies were prepared for the nearly 500 celebrants.
The next day, the team split up to accomplish a variety of tasks, all related to the secondary school in Makeni, where the students we sponsor from the village, attend classes. One team member spent the day at the school, and actually assisted with teaching a class; others toured the facility, then went into town to purchase supplies (chalk, slates, notebooks, etc.) for the students there. My life-partner Bearcat & I took the opportunity to scale Wusum - a mountain situated near the secondary school. Wusum is one of two mountains overlooking the city of Makeni, the other is Menne; Wusum & Menne means Father & Mother, in the local language of Temne. We had climbed Menne in 2011, so only the challenge of Wusum remained.
I shan't provide a step-by-step account of our ascent; suffice it to say, it was really freakin' hard. The school principal provided us with a guide, telling us that he would take us up the mountain "the easy way" <second overly optimistic assessment alert>. Apparently the English word easy, means difficult in Temne. About an hour and a half after beginning our ascent, I summited. Samuel, the teacher that had been selected to guide us up the mountain, said we were the oldest Oportos (whites) to have scaled the mountain. It was no salve to my ego to notice that nearly a dozen schoolboys, many barefooted, joined our trek, clambering about like goats, while I struggled to put one foot in front of the other. All hardship was forgotten when we reached the peak, and after a brief rest atop Wusum, we descended our lofty perch.
The next day and a half are a blur, owing to my exhaustion from the climb. We returned to the village, where Pastor Dave conducted a men's bible study, we presented a suitcase full of medical supplies to the nurse at the government clinic in the village, and following another warm night's sleep, presented gifts and stipends to the teachers at the primary school in the village.
We next travelled to Bo, the second largest city in Sierra Leone, where we stayed one night at the Missionary Training Center. The next day, we drove to Kenema, where the UMC Annual Conference was set to begin. Pastor Dave addressed the gathering of pastors and Evangelists, and after receiving a blessing for safe travel, we loaded up for the 5 hour drive back to Lungi - to stay the night and prepare for our flight out the next morning.
On Thursday, our driver Edison dropped us at the airport, where I endured a grilling and shake down that has sadly become old-hat there. Surviving that ordeal, I settled into our silver tube for the 6 hour flight to London. Again owing to an odd flight schedule, we were forced to spend the night at a nearby hotel, where we enjoyed our first air conditioning, a shower that was more than a cold trickle, and a bed that didn't have to be checked for critters before crawling in. On Friday morning, we returned to Heathrow and boarded another cylinder for the 7 hour flight to Dulles, where we were met by friendly angels and whisked homeward. The 38 hours of travel is a killer, but at that point, I was just glad to be back.
Obviously, this is a condensed version of events; I understand this is a shock to my regular readers, but circumstances have conspired to rob me of both my memory and inspiration. More on that next time............
