Lichen:
<Editor's note: stay alert, this is a snark-free post; quite unusual.>
In a few short days, I'll be joining with 4 other like-minded wanderers travelling to Sierra Leone, to visit our friends in Maboleh, a village near the middle of the country. Most of you know of my previous trips to Africa, in conjunction with the commitment our church made with our sister church in that village. This will be the 7th trip our church has made since 2009, and my 5th.
In previous posts, you've learned of our activities there, including building a new church to replace the war and time ravaged building they had. Our commitment to this village and its people has evolved into 4 separate components: spiritual, educational, medical and economic. During each visit, we touch on each area but often focus on one special project/task. This trip is no different; our project this time is painting the Primary School that is situated on the eastern edge of the village. The school is a long, single-story structure with 4 rooms; it houses more than 200 students in grades 1 - 6. Classrooms are often divided into halves - one class facing one way and the other facing the opposite way; yet teaching and learning continues - amazing! In addition to painting the school, we will attempt to finalize plans to build teacher's quarters near the school grounds. The teachers (pictured below) do not live in the village, and making the commute from the nearest city, Makeni, about 7 miles away, often requires an expensive ride for the teachers - typically, costing more than they earn that day. We're also taking school and medical supplies with us, as their access to these items is limited.
I'm anxious to get back and reconnect with friends we've made there. I love playing in the dirt. I'll likely not be in contact while I'm in country, owing to the still-decimated infrastructure and dearth of internet availability, especially in the village. You may expect a full recounting of our trip in my next post. Tempus volat, et sic facio.....
Bunnies:
It has taken me several days to decompress - to come down from the high the past weekend bestowed. Yes, it's that time of year when the tribes gather, the clans meld and the prodigals return: PattiPalooza XII. This pagan festival that I've described again and again in these annals, was held in the hinterlands, on ceremonial land passed down through the generations. This year's iteration's attendance ebbed and flowed, as family units appeared, then disappeared, like Whack A Moles. A recap follows.
DAY 1: As is its wont, the carnival-like atmosphere took some time to create. Of course, the Prince & Princess of the arboreal retreat, our hosts, were awash in preparatory fervor. As quickly as guests would arrive, they were immediately conscripted into service for the royals. None were spared, not even the infants who were utilized as insect bait, placed strategically about the grounds, so the adult revelers could enjoy their frolic without distraction.
Naturally, much of the reverie in this bucolic Xanadu took place near the placid reflecting pool that adjoins the main house. In addition to the aquatic pursuits for which it was originally intended, the pool also served as a pseudo-baptismal font, where both full and partial immersion ceremonies were conducted - to the delight of the assemblage and under the watchfully approving eye of Patti, the Princess for whom the festival is named.
As darkness fell, the trial by combat competitive activities commenced. The centerpiece of this year's Olympia, was the Bean Bag Toss Of Death. Of course, none were actually required to sacrifice their life; however, the hooting, cat-calling, heckling, jeering, hissing and raspberry noises that followed each unsuccessful toss, were enough to make those unfortunate enough to fail, seek relief in the morphine-like stupor that spirits often provide. The day ended with the rag-tag band of revelers trundling off to their respective nests, to lick their wounds and vow to be better persons tomorrow.
DAY 2: It's not all fun and games at PattiPalooza - not all libation and liberation. No; it's also about the serious business of eating - an activity that all take to heart. The second day began with a spectacular array of culinary options, the likes of which rival any Comfort Inn. Breakfast lasted until lunch, lunch lasted until dinner, and dinner never ended. Unsurprisingly, I ate like a pig managed to control myself, in keeping to my life-long dictum that my body is a temple.
Activities occurring that didn't involve either feasting or hydrating included more pool time, and lots of lazing around. As more and more guests poured in, rounding out both the family tree and necessitating the production of additional capacity. Folding chairs of all colors, shapes and styles, held attendees similarly described. As each troupe arrived, they were greeted by those already in attendance; this wolf-like display, where the arriver assumes a submissive posture until welcomed by the alpha male and female, is fascinating to observe. By evening, there was standing room only.
As daylight evaporated, those spending the evening bade farewell to the day-trippers and settled in for what was to come. As the remaining hard-liners noshed, nibbled, sipped, slurped, gulped and generally tore through the food and drink like locusts in a Kansas wheat field, the happy throng joined in a centuries-old tradition. Generations of young'uns have learned the ways of their elders at the knees of story tellers since time began. This night was another link in that unbroken chain of relating oral history, one story at a time. These stories, some of them true, ran long into the cool night. Throughout the compound, sounds of laughter, words of admiration, calls of "Bullshit!" and other reactions to these tales were heard. Even the gathering storm clouds and occasional lightning flash couldn't dampen the spirits of the kindred. After that, when all returned to their beds, only the sounds of snoring and flatulence disturbed the quiet night.
DAY 3: At first, I though it was acorns dropping onto the metal roof of the building I occupy during this festival. Years ago, I learned that bedding down by myself, in the UB (Utility Building) guarantees me both a more pleasant nocturnal experience, but provides me with the freedom to use the woods as a bathroom come and go as I please. However, soon enough, the freight train sounds of rain pouring onto sheet metal, became my wake-up call. Happily, the rain stopped about an hour after it started, leaving us with yet another day of promise.
To the uninitiated, it would seem they'd awoken to Groundhog Day. With regard to both the solid and liquid nourishment, this day was indistinguishable from the previous one. When the passing of time can only be measured by meals (last, current, next) it's nearly impossible to pinpoint when exactly the highlight of the weekend occurred. For me, it was the appearance of the Ginja Ninja - a flame-haired apparition whose lithe countenance and cat-like gait seem to render him invisible. In fact, he was invisible for long stretches of time during the weekend. Hmmmmm.
Naturally, all things good must end, and PattiPalooza is no exception. As the members of the 5 families <Editor's note: yes, there were 5 families - wonder why he didn't use an organized crime theme?> began their preparations to return to their homes, the inevitable pall this portion of the weekend suffers, set in. I felt it my duty to assist with clean up, so I consumed as much of the remaining food and drink as possible led the effort to return this charming slice of woodland, to its former state - prior to our arrival.
There you have it dear readers; a blow-by-blow summary of the latest chapter in the saga of PattiPalooza. For the next several weeks, I'll be immersed in preparations for my 5th visit to Sierra Leone. I'm already beginning to feel the tug of the Dark Continent on my soul, and look forward to sharing that experience with you as well. You'll hear from me prior to my departure - oh lucky you... Youll deesset mihi quando egressus sum
In a few short days, I'll be joining with 4 other like-minded wanderers travelling to Sierra Leone, to visit our friends in Maboleh, a village near the middle of the country. Most of you know of my previous trips to Africa, in conjunction with the commitment our church made with our sister church in that village. This will be the 7th trip our church has made since 2009, and my 5th. 
In previous posts, you've learned of our activities there, including building a new church to replace the war and time ravaged building they had. Our commitment to this village and its people has evolved into 4 separate components: spiritual, educational, medical and economic. During each visit, we touch on each area but often focus on one special project/task. This trip is no different; our project this time is painting the Primary School that is situated on the eastern edge of the village. The school is a long, single-story structure with 4 rooms; it houses more than 200 students in grades 1 - 6. Classrooms are often divided into halves - one class facing one way and the other facing the opposite way; yet teaching and learning continues - amazing! In addition to painting the school, we will attempt to finalize plans to build teacher's quarters near the school grounds. The teachers (pictured below) do not live in the village, and making the commute from the nearest city, Makeni, about 7 miles away, often requires an expensive ride for the teachers - typically, costing more than they earn that day. We're also taking school and medical supplies with us, as their access to these items is limited.
