Refugee Camp

On Monday morning, we met at Emily's house to finish making the care packages for the Fulani refugees.  We put together 50 bags with spaghetti noodles, tomato paste, tea, canned milk, sugar, cookies, candy, a bar of soap and laundry soap.  

Here's Kylie adding the tea, cookies and candy:

And the boys putting the spaghetti and tomato paste in:

Oh, and don't forget the sugar cubes.

We loaded the bags into the hospital van and headed off to the refugee camp.  We kept track of the distance and turns out the refugee camp is exactly three and a half km from the hospital!

We went to the camp and word had spread that we were coming.  The chief was there to greet us (and he spoke a little English as well as French and Fulfulde.)  The mayor of Mango was also there.  He didn't want to miss out on the action.  The firefighters of another town (Kara) were also there to act as protection for the Fulani.

Typically, whenever we've tried to hand out gifts to the locals, we've been mobbed.  But the Fulani are a very different people group, very reserved and calm.  The chief asked them all the return to their tents so that we could walk to each tent and deliver the bags of goodies.  Before we were able to deliver them, the chief and his helper went through a bag and wrote down exactly what was in the bag (they even counted the sugar cubes!).

Then we counted how many tents were in each row and our little delegation (the chief, the mayor, two other men (we don't know who they are), several firefighters, me, the kids, Anna and Emily) walked down the rows of tents, greeting each family and handing them a bag.

Here's Jack handing a bag to a Fulani mom:

Ethan's turn!  You can see the firefighter in the photo with the blue uniform.  The chief is the guy on the right.

The people were very grateful, but you could tell they were just plain sad.  They are a quiet and reserved people anyhow, but it was so sad to look into their tents and see nothing.  Just the tarp on the bottom of the tent.  The government had given some pots for cooking and rice.  The chief and the mayor were trying to figure out if they could get a latrine built and how to deal with the garbage as well.  There are a lot of logistics when 400 people move into an empty field.

Here are the firefighters carrying the bags down a row of tents:

Nolan's turn now.  You can see a "gendarme" on the left in the blue camo. The mayor is the next guy in the pic with the colourful shirt on, right beside Nolan.

Here's Anna with a Fulani woman.  She didn't want us to take a picture of her face.  Anna spoke Fulfulde with the people and they were absolutely shocked that she could speak their language. 

 It was awesome!

After we finished handing out the bags, we all walked back to the van and the people gathered around. Anna spoke to the mayor in French and he then translated her words to another language so that the people could understand.  She spoke of our concern for them, our desire to help, and the fact that we love them because God loves them.  She asked permission for us to return again.  The whole thing felt very serious and ceremonial as the languages were translated.  Then Anna pulled out three books, for two tribal elders and the chief.  It was the Gospels translated into a language that she is certain they will be able to read. (I think Aramaic.)  Before she handed them out, she spoke of the sweetness of these books and then she kissed them.  Each of the three men took them with real seriousness.  It was really really cool.

Here's a photo of the mayor (in the middle) with two of the tribal elders.

And then we gave the last few bags to the firefighters and police officers that were on site. Turns out we had exactly the number of bags we needed for the people!
 How cool is that? (and certainly NOT coincidence)

And then we left, with hopes of returning soon.

And we went home, to our lovely home, and had a nice lunch, and sat on our chairs and ate at our table and I thought to myself, this single thought:

Have I ever done something this important, ever?

Really, have I?  In my 36 years of life, have I ever done something like this?  I know that there have been very important and wonderful days in my life, like the day I married Nate, and the five days I delivered our five babies.  But in all my life, have I ever done anything so real before?  In the next breath however, I realize that giving these poor, homeless people a bag of food is so SO insignificant.  How does it help, really?  A meal or two?  In light of the losses they have suffered, what is a bag of noodles and sauce? So in my head, there is a bit of debate.  How can I be the same person after this?  

The fact is I better not be the same person.  West Africa...what are you doing to me??