Saturday

You may want to check a whining change near the end of Thursday particularly if you know Glenda.

Saturday began early. I returned to the room a little after midnight and was half dozing when Chris arrived. We chatted for several minutes and then fell asleep. Waking up was very leisurely since the ladies were going to breakfast at 9:00 Bob and I were unscheduled until 11:30, or as it turned out 11:15 as we will see. I woke up around 8:30, really got awake by 9:00 and read and prayed and nodded off until about 10:15. I went down to the commons and Bob was there and hadn’t eaten yet so we had a good breakfast together. We were as I mentioned expected to be ready by 11:30 but at 11:15 as I was in the shower Mickey came knocking say that the ladies were ready. That was a good reason not to shave and by 11:20 we were on our way over to the Center. The boutique was open and they had African style men’s shirts so I purchased one. The price was 7200 CFA’s which is about $15. The seven was hand written with a European 7 which both Bob and I thought was a Franc sign. Instead of 200 CFA it was 7200. He did not have enough and we needed to get going so he will pick his up on Monday. The shirts are made by villagers and some of the proceeds go to help the work of bible translation.
After a briefing on what to expect we were off to the street market. I decided to bring my backpack so I would have something in which to carry anything I bought. I carefully zipped all the zippers and tucked it under my arm. We had walked quite a distance when a boy came up from behind me and handed me my travel folder with my plane ticket in it. Are you surprised? Think how I felt! Two others had problems today with pick pockets but no one’s problems came close to mine. Apparently one of the zippers on one of the pockets of my bag was on the top and someone got it down. Mickey, our host, said that the boy who returned it had to have been an angel because you never get anything back. The feelings that followed were the strangest mix of embarrassment, gratitude and agitation for having been ripped off. I guess the embarrassment lasted the longest but after sharing the story several times I am left with thanksgiving to God who cared for me and delivered me from my trouble.
In the market place itself you are inundated by a torrent of sensory stimulation. The sights, sounds and aromas fight for your attention as you strain to take in a scene that is so totally foreign. The cars squeeze past the throngs, horns beeping and are only inches away as they crawl through the sprawl. Carolyn actually was hit by a side view mirror. There are piles of tomatoes (tomates), pineapple (ananas), apples (pommes), manioc roots, short pieces of sugar cane and carts with any number of other products for sale. Some venders walk about carrying their wares and the sounds of the hawkers fill the air along with the smoke of the small grills roasting who knows what. From the butcher stands come the sounds of machetes chopping through the joints of the animals being hacked into marketable cuts. A pig’s foot hangs clear of the chopping block as the shoulder is being carved. The mix of pedestrians, vehicles, sights, sounds and smells create a blur of consciousness where nothing is clear by itself but everything blends merges and morphs into an unforgettable experience.
We then visited one of the most beautiful bakeries I have ever seen. It was a Greek bakery in the center of Yaoundé. Most of us had ice cream (glaze) and the most popular flavor was double choco. Leaving the bakery we traveled through another market area in a predominantly Muslim community. Cities are cities but this was an impressive journey. The central round-about is surrounded by high rise buildings and is well kept. There is a road through the middle of the circle but only the president is allowed to travel on it.
Back at the room I started to type and was too fatigued to do much so I took a nap and then got ready to attend an SIL all branch cookout. It was held outside the building where we eat lunch at the CTC. There is a large steep grassy hill where the photo we missed yesterday was taken. As folks arrived they spread picnic blankets and camp chairs and milled about waiting for a call to begin. Then we all filed through the dining hall where volunteers behind long tables served grilled chicken, potato salad and a cole slaw containing some of the delicious local pineapple. Sodas were the beverage de noir and for dessert there was another long table of goodies brought to share by the missionaries. I chose a generous slice of pineapple.
At the end there was a time to affirm a woman and her son who were leaving although they were hoping to return as soon as health, support and could be successfully worked out. People all over the hillside stood up to compliment the two and other members of the family who were not present. Then several close friends and coworkers gathered around them to lay hands on them and uphold them in prayer.
We took the now familiar walk home. A few others had gone on before leaving only two to ride in the van. Sometime after we arrived Rhonda walked into the commons to say that she had been left behind. Of course she was among friends and managed to get a ride over after a full search of those remaining revealed that all of us had left her. Back in the commons I started to type but was invited to play a card game called Blink with Rhonda, Carolyn, Ann, Glenda and Sarah. It was a fast moving game which took me several losses before I totally changed my strategy and got on a more winning track. I then showed the power point show of Mexico and a couple of videos and that completed the evening.