… where the heart is?
… where everybody knows your name? [Cheers]
… where you hang your head? [Marx]
… where they have to take you in? [Frost]
… not where you live but where they understand you? [Morgenstern]
… where the skies are not cloudy all day? [Higley]

I’ve been away from Canada for about four months. Some things are pretty much the same. (Like the mess in my livingroom.) Some things are new. (Like babies.) Some things are expected. (Like the miraculous disappearance of snow and the greening of landscapes.)

I’ve been back in Canada for a bit over two weeks. I know exactly what you mean when you ask, “So, is it good to be home?” I always answer yes. And I’m telling the truth. But I have to explain that Africa has become a bit like home too. Those people are also my friends, my coworkers, my (adopted) family. I am loved and valued and welcomed into their homes. We exchanged hopes and dreams and fears and longings.

But my beloved Africa seems so very far away. Waking up in the morning to donkeys, roosters and children on my thin foam mattress, brushing aside my mosquito net. Pulling on the nearest skirt and T-shirt. Sweeping my hair up. Reading the next section in my daily Bible. Walking down the sandy street to the shop to pick up tappa-lappa for breakfast. Boiling water for coffee. Making the slow hour-long progression via local transport to work. Teaching or sorting or planning or encouraging. Making the reverse trek home in 35 Celsius humidity. Sweat literally dripping down my back, bracing my feet in the 15-passenger van to keep that remaining sliver of my body on the seat, listening to the latest Youssof N’Dour tune from the speakers, smiling at the baby on her mother’s lap, ignoring yet another guy asking for either a phone number or my hand in marriage. A quick stop at La Parisienne for some combination of free wi-fi, good coffee and air conditioning. Picking up some fruit from my fruit lady; the one who always throws in a little extra after I’ve paid. Arriving home to the exuberant welcome of darling A, complete with a hug around the knees. Being amazed at what new word she decided to utter that day. Seeing V still hard at work and admiring her boundless joy. Looking forward to the refreshment only a cold shower on a hot African afternoon can bring. Dinner of yassa or domoda or benechin or beans. Preparing for the next day. A quick journal entry. Another washing of feet before hopping into bed, securing the bug-net, and falling asleep to unending reggae.

My beloved Africa seems so far away. I don’t remember how dirty my feet truly got. I don’t remember the smell of burning garbage mixed with exhaust fumes. I don’t remember how to move slowly. I don’t remember how to be constantly in community. I don’t remember how to be acutely aware of monitoring water levels, awaiting electricity to come back on, dealing with running out of propane for cooking, needing to shop everyday for groceries, washing clothes by hand, being content with just the essentials.

My beloved Africa seems so far away. I drive my well-maintained car on smooth and paved roads. I don’t plan my day anticipating power-outages. I have access to an endless water supply and countless grocery store shelves. I can count on meetings starting on time and a schedule being followed. I am utterly and completely confused by these daylight extending events called dawn and dusk.

My beloved Africa seems so far away. Being in Canada seems so very normal. Neither place is better than the other. It is simply that they are different. I can recognize the privilege it is to live in Canada and the sheer abundance this country has to offer. I can recognize how overwhelmingly difficult it is to live in Africa despite its endearing charm.

I know exactly what you mean when you ask, “So, is it good to be home?” I always answer yes. And I’m telling the truth. But I have to explain that Africa has become a bit like home too.

Coming home from very lonely places, all of us go a little mad: whether from great personal success, or just an all-night drive, we are the sole survivors of a world no one else has ever seen.
~John le Carre

While I am away, the majority of my travel tales will be posted at Where is she?. As long there is electricity and the servers don’t go down in the neighbouring country, I will try to post regularly. When I return, I will migrate all of the posts back here.

First it was some potential operational challenges I could be walking into, the second was my inability to deal with minor stressors and the third, just today, was news that my grandmother was in the hospital. My grandmother … the one with whom I was too busy to even set up a tea date with when I was in town.

So why now? Why these challenges? And what next?

Since I have seen God arrange the details on His time, I can only assume that the next four months are all about what He wants and plans to accomplish. Do I assume this is an attempt to dissuade?

With my past trips being only a few weeks long, it was relatively easy to plan, prepare and pack. Four months is all about the details. All said, I am continually amazed at how God is bringing everything together.

I have been very encouraged by your financial generosity! I am currently at 80% of my target and the goal is within easy reach now.

Your notes (and letters!) have also been very encouraging. While I may not have an opportunity to respond in a timely fashion, please keep the emails and blog comments coming. The updates will flow both ways.

There are many projects starting soon after I arrive in The Gambia.
Nurses Training
-A returning Canadian Neonatal nurse will spend three weeks leading a “Train the Trainer” workshop
-Once trained, Gambian nurses will teach other nurses across the country about neonatal resuscitation (helping babies breathe)

Working with Children
-Work with a local group caring for ill and malnourished children
-Host a week-long day camp for either children in our neighbourhood or in a village

Village Water Project
-A community-identified need, we will partner with the village to establish a water source (central tank, solar array, pump, borehole)
-Preparations will continue in February with construction planned for May

Founding a Gambian Seminary
-Two faculty from Wycliffe College will participate in a theological conference
-This may develop into long term partnerships

RVTH Pharmacy
-With the change in store-keeper, additional training and support may be needed
-Study impact of 2008’s building project (shelves)
-Better understand the Gambian healthcare system

REGINA — The number of pharmacists at the Royal Victoria Teaching Hospital in Banjul, Gambia, will double when Regina’s [pharmacist] arrives.

“There’s currently only one pharmacist for this hospital, which is the main teaching and referral centre for the whole country,” [she] said. “Part of the problem is that companies from North America and Europe often come and recruit people from these countries so it depletes their trained workers.”

{She] is taking a four-month leave from her job at the [a Regina hospital] in February to volunteer at the Royal Victoria Teaching Hospital (RVTH). While there she’ll continue the work she began on the two previous trips she took to West Africa with the Christian Volunteer Movement, a non-denominational Christian organization.

read more of Regina pharmacist to volunteer in Gambia.

A reporter at the local paper who read a story about my upcoming volunteering health region newsletter wanted to spread the news. The online version appeared earlier than the print version, due Friday.

I am so very excited that word can spread about things that are happening in Africa. Everything that is happening is simply incredible. It’s amazing what God will do when He is in control.