tourne. The plan is to go from village to village to check up on the
medical clinics already existing and to do administrative stuff.
From Ndjamena, our first stop was the village of Bailli. As I was on
short final, I saw a man racing toward the runway on his bicycle. I
thought that surely he should stop but that surely he wouldn't stop
before crossing the runway, so was prepared to do a go-around. Sure
enough. He looked up, saw the airplane coming, and pedaled even faster
as he entered the runway just about the same time and place I would have
touched down. I just extended my touch-down point to beyond where he was
and landed safely with plenty of time.
Shortly after shutdown, hundreds of curious people came to see the
airplane. We unloaded the packages and the doctor and pastor went off to
work while I stayed behind with the airplane. Once finished, I walked
the runway and got the GPS points for ends and center. Then a man took
me by moto to the health center.
After a while, we had boule to eat. The sauce looked even more real than
snot itself, and it was very long (up to a meter). Chunks of bone and
tendons and veins protruded. The rice boule and the millet boule were ok
and I ate a bit of each. Then I went with one of the EET church
officials and got GPS points for two new cell phone towers in the village.
Next we visited the large church of 300+ members. The church building
was of course mud-brick and dirt floor, but quite large. Inside were
several benches and a termite-eaten pulpit supported by a brick on one
side. Then I visited with this man's family at his home. He wanted me to
pray for his mother-in-law who has been ill for 8 years.
Then we visited another home where a "doctor" operates a clinic. We
discussed snake bite and scorpion sting. I explained to him how to apply
moto shock and charcoal. He was quite interested and willing to learn.
I was served another boule meal. This time the sauce was not quite as
long, but full of bones and fish meat. I opted for the rice part, which
was better than the first time.
At the end of the day, I relaxed back at the house by the clinic and
talked with the family there. The boy wants to be a pilot someday. I
told him he needed to know mathematics and physics and geography and
climate and other things to be a good pilot. We talked about praying
that God would direct him in his studies.
The girl came and knelt beside me and said, "Your bathing water is
ready." Before, they had asked me if I wanted warm water or not. I
assured them that I was used to cold water. I'm not that whimpy.
I'm ready for bed. But the last meal has yet to be served. They finally
realize that I am not a meat-eater. They give me a special platter of
white bread, mayonnaise, and a small tub of something off-white, hard,
crunchy, stringy, sort of sweet-tasting, sort-of-good-but-strange. The
writing is in Arabic I think, but it is so dark I can't tell for sure
what it is. I decide to put that on my bread rather than the mayonnaise.
The chemical content is probably less. I determined that the substance
was probably a sesame derivative.
We talk about diet. "You don't even eat fish?" they ask. "Nothing with
eyes," I reply. They all thought that was hilarious. Then out came the
salad, which contained tomatoes. I had to ask them if the slimy things
inside the tomato were eyes. "Ha ha ha ha." Funny.
Finally, I get a moto ride to where I will sleep. I am prepared to sleep
under the plane. But I get to sleep in a former missionary's house with
tin roof, mattress, mosquito net, and even an outhouse with a sit-down
toilet (gross)! Inside my own room, I sneak some homemade crackers,
dried fruit, and a couple biscuits Melody had packed for me to bring
along. I drift of to sleep.
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