Sorry for the delay, but I’ve finally got the write up for our last day uploaded!

I’ve just updated the post regarding the 18th February – it now has our recollections to go along with the photos!

Just updated the post for this day on our recent visit to Sierra Leone. To read it and see the photos click here.

The last day! Time always does funny things on a visit like this. After the first few days it felt as if we’d been here for years – we’d packed so many experiences in on the journey here alone! Then with Conference and numerous visits we had so much panning out in front of us, but then all of a sudden the last few days galloped away and here we are, the last few hours in Sierra Leone.

We only had one location to visit before leaving, although we had three tasks to do there. It was back to Lady Selina’s Chapel to meet with the Ministers, to call in on the Minister’s Wives’ sewing group and looking around the new floor, the offices above the Chapel.

Every month the ministers gather to talk business and receive their pay. This month it was scheduled for our today. It was good to be able to meet them all at Conference and then see them together once more having visited their churches and seen them at work. This was a good opportunity to say thank you for the warm welcome we had received wherever we had gone – we have as always been treated as distinguished visitors – and to talk over a few important matters with them regarding the nature of our ongoing support. It was also a chance to clear up some confusions that had arisen about the relationship between the SLM and the SL Connexion over the four years since we last were here. At the end of the business and speeches, we were extremely touched to be presented with some personalised decorative plaques and traditional tops – having just said how we appreciated their patience under the constraints caused by the current financial situation this was quite humbling. Although like any family we have our disagreements from time to time, I cannot deny that these are God’s people – we found Christ in them and made many good friends. I do hope that one day I will return to see them again.

The Ministers’ wives have started a sewing group with the help of donated equipment from the UK. This meets in a small room at the front of the Chapel. Lovette M’Bayo, one of our ministers and wife of Kelvin M’Bayo another minister currently working on the church plants in the Provinces, invited us to come and see what they have been making. We were very impressed with their handiwork – and it was good to see them all again before we left.

Our last port of call was to head upstairs to meet the committee running the offices built on top of the Chapel for the SLM Agency, the FSL and the Connexion. Of these, it was brilliant to meet my old friend Mulba Harris who had designed and overseen the building work on the Chapel – my first large project upon becoming Chairman. We were also taken to the unfinished top floor where they hope eventually to build a Manse. There is a temporary roof and the walls reach part way, but other than that it is currently open, providing a great view across Freetown – ideal for taking photos.

And so, having said yet another round of goodbyes, we left in the good company of Augustine and Francis for a last drive through the congested streets, to the Ferry Terminal. Sitting here the temperature dial reached the record level of our stay, 108 degrees Farenheit (42 degrees Centigrade)!

This time there were no antics with broken down containers, and the ferry was loaded without disaster. Tim enjoyed noticing how the Ferry kept backing away from the jetty so that there was always water at the low point of the ramp – we guess so that it didn’t run aground. This meant that foot passengers had to either get wet crossing, or pay one of the willing volunteers to carry them over!

Boarding the ferry during daylight was wonderful. We opted to sit on top amongst the throng of other foot passengers under a canopy that had been erected. Here, although somewhat crammed in, we could enjoy the breeze and view. I had warned Tim of the entertainment before we made our journey here a fortnight ago, and as expected, no sooner had the boat started moving, when two whited up (think ‘blacked up’ in reverse – unthinkable in our politically correct world) popped up and started working the audience. To begin with they were trying to sell CDs and VCDs which are popular here, but before long their pitch increased in vigour and volume as they decreed that they were having an argument and wanted us to resolve it for them. They were debating whether there were more Christians or Muslims on board (again this is something else we would not dare do at home). They needed our help to answer the question. First of all, one of them would cry out ‘Amen’ to which all the Christians on board would have to respond ‘Halleluja’h. Then the other would cry declare ‘Assalamu alaikum’ (peace be with you) to which the Muslims on board had to respond ‘Walaikum as salaam’ (and peace unto you). Whichever side did it the loudest would be the winners. After several attempts and similar calls they gave up on this approach and announced that a vote was needed. each of them passed around a bag, and if you were a Christian you had to put a coin in one bag and Muslims in the other. Outrageous maybe, but the crowd loved it! Having collected in the money, they decided there was too many coins to count. The only way to do it would be through collecting notes! They would take it in turn to appeal for a note, and the one who collected the last note won – although in the hilarity, I’m not sure we ever worked out who this was! Of course, it didn’t take long before they noticed that there were two white men on board, Christians obviously (yes, the stereotype works here just as we may assume that Asians are Muslims). ‘White man, shake up!’ came the insistent demand. I fear I had no intention of getting out my money belt in public, but Tim was ready with some Leones, and presented them to great applause!

We made it to Lungi Airport with time to kill. Francis and Augustine weren’t allowed in with us, so we said our final goodbyes and entered. I must confess that this, alongside arriving, is my least favourite part of the journey. There are no real facilities outside of check in, and so it was a case of getting a few drinks and biding our time. Naturally we developed a ‘friend’ who had to guard our bags for us for a few dollars. Others tried to befriend us too, but we were in no mood to play along, especially when we realised they were in employment at the airport.

Eventually we made it in, passing through the checks with little trouble. They even let me carry my staff through from Foofoo Water without comment! now we were untroubled and could get some food and relax, even check out the Duty Free! The plane arrived on time, and we went through another round of checks, this time carried out by British staff. I fear they thought little of the Leonian checks and were stunned that my staff had been admitted for hand luggage. At one point I thought it was going to have to be discarded, but one kind soul took pity on me and stashed in it the staff compartment.

The flight itself was smooth, my stomach held out, and eventually we landed in the cold UK. It was good to be home and to be reunited with our families – although as I had said previously to Tim, Sierra Leone gets under the skin. I know it is under mine again – despite the frustrations and problems, I love the place and the people. One day we’ll be back. For now though we have our memories, our photos and a pile of requests to work through!

The last day of standard visits, an a day that threatened on paper to be hideously long! Not only did we have the five originally planned visits to make, but we also gained one during Conference when Reuben realised that he hadn’t included St. Stephen’s at Rokel in our itinerary…

Fogbo (pronounced fo-bo) is a large fishing community of some 2000+ people along the coast from Tombo and Tissana to the East, where Rev. Charles Moinina is the current minister (although we heard at Conference that he will be posted elsewhere soon). This church is twinned with Sheppey Evangelical Church in the UK. During the New Year’s Eve celebrations a fire broke out here, Charles wrote the following account for us:

On the eve of this New year (2010) , before our usual church service, heavy wind blown out within the Fogbo village. While young people were singing and dancing , many elders thought it was a sign of blessing and prosperity hence the wind served as agent cleansing the village against bad people.

The new year’s eve in Fogbo had been characterized by fantastic cultural jubilation and exhibitions. Surrounding villages converge to fogbo with their dance troops on competitive basis and winners were awarded with special prizes and recognition in the koya Rural District.

I and few committed members of my church were busy at visiting Christians homes urging them to attend service on time. We were able to get good number of Christians and started the service..The Theme of of the service was-‘ Asses your Result Card” (Numbers13:26-33) Preacher-Rev.Charles Moinina

Shortly after the sermon, there was dramatic change from jubilation to lamentation compounded by serious shouting and crying everywhere in the village. Allegedly , the wind has blown off the fire from one of the kitchens and spread out burning both thatch and corrugated iron sheet hourses with Christian homes being the main terminal causalities.

As a result ,most people are now over concentrated in neighboring houses or sought respite in other villages .Children who attended schools and churches at Fogbo have found themselves in non school and church environment. Lack of shelter, food and clothing has worsen the standard of living for the Fogbo people

As the only pastor of this community ,the people particularly the Christians are constantly asking me to share their plight with fellow Christians in Sierra Leone as well as abroad for support in any form that will relieve them.

May God blesses the giver and give him a blessed rest eternally. May the power of the Holy Spirit shine in them so that others may see their good works and bless Christ Jesus.

Arriving in Fogbo we were able to see for ourselves the extend of the disaster as we we taken on a walk through the community. It was clear that a significant portion of the heart of the village had been burnt down. It must have been, and must continue to be, an extremely hard time for these people.

As we walked, the children of the school accompanied us (a growing school now with over 200 children), fascinated by these two white men. At times there were some 40 children trying to all hang from our arms, tugging at our skin, wondering why it was different to theirs. After a while they also took up a chant, encouraged by one of their teachers. When we asked what it was, the translation was given as, ‘We want clothes!’

Manalo (twinned with Copthorne) was quite a contrast to Fogbo. The church here, led by Rev. Amadu Sesay, is small and struggling. They are in a Muslim dominated area and one in which work opportunities are low. It is hard for many to pay school fees, and there is little access to health care facilities. Regardles, Amadu remains cheerful and does what he can to share God’s love. It was good to see him again – attending his wedding in 2004 was a highlight of that trip. Another old friend at Manalo is their former pastor, the now retired George Braima who asked us to remember him and the youth of the church.

Having attended Makomba on the first Sunday for the service, we didn’t get a chance to visit the school which is on a nearby site, and so we called here as we drove through. Pastor Michael Tarawallie met us here, but said goodbye almost immediately – cycling off to Makoibondu where we would shortly meet him again. The school is on a large plot of land a little way out from the village, and as such is a bit isolated, leading them to be concerned about protecting it. They are trying to build a caretakers house so that someone can stay there (maybe a teacher?) and guard it out of hours. Apparently there was an arson attempt a little while ago.

The school seemed to be in good shape and spirit (except for the ceilings which seemed to be coming down – although from memory this is nothing new). They also have a new well which was provided by ‘Living Water International’ - I wonder if they might help other communities we work in who are asking for them?

Just down the road we caught up with Michael Tarawallie at Makoibondu. I was quite envious of his cycle ride – we have had little proper exercise, and cycling is one of my favourite active pastimes! The people here are surviving – like everywhere today the people are poor and there are little employment opportunities. They asked for help with furnishing and for a porch so that a gate can be erected to keep animals out during services. They also have plans for agriculture in the church grounds -much to Tim’s delight they hope to grow bananas! Like so many others at the moment, they are also concerned about demarking the land to stop encroachment.

The last of the M’s (I believe it is a Mende tradition to name places with Ms or Rs) – Magbafti, twinned suitably enough with another M, Mortimer West End in the UK. Much to our surprise we were well ahead of schedule by this point – for the first time ever on any visit. Not quite sure how that happened… We were so far ahead that Rev. Theophilus Nicol hadn’t arrived yet to greet us. Not put off by this, the local people introduced us to the school and gave us a presentation without him! The welcome took place in the church alongside the Primary School. This was as vibrant and noisy as ever – although for once there was no cultural dancing (something Tim has yet to experience). After the able presentation, we were taken around the grounds to see the concrete posts that have been erected with funds given to us by Mortimer West End (thanks!) to respond to encroachment on the land, something which has been a real problem here. Just as we finished this tour, a rather surprised Theophilus made it, jsut in time to take us back into the church for a closing prayer!

Finally we made it to our last destination, St. Stephen’s, Rokel. Quite a contrast! At this old established church we were greeted by a number of older men, and surrounded for one of the few times in this land by quiet. Our former agent Joe Pearce, known to many in the UK, is currently overseeing the church here, although in the mid-year postings Jacob Dove will take charge (Reuben’s nephew? cousin?). They asked me to remember them to St. Stephen’s in Middleton, UK with whom they have shared a long relationship. They have been busy trying to renovate the church, paining it, making a start on building a toilet block and so on. They also boasted of their new belfry (courtesy of the hard work of Francis)! We also had the chance here to meet up with retired minister, Rev. John Walter Thomas, an old friend of the SLM.

And so at the end of a packed day we made it home much earlier than expected – we even had time to pack before going to bed!

Yesterday at one point the temperature hit 107 degrees farenheit according to the thermometer in the car. Thats 41 degrees centigrade, the hottest I’ve ever knowingly experienced…

On the way out, I attempted to reconfirm our flights on my mobile – I got this unlocked befor leaving so that I could by a local sim card. Last time here I didn’t have the luxury of Skype and worked up a frightening phone bill calling home using roaming charges… Bit nervous about the call as I’m still missing a fair amount of Krio! Got through and passed on my request, but had no confirmation before cut the woman on the other side put the phone down. Concerned, we called in, but all was fine.

The first stop was at the school/church at Foofoo (or Fufu) Water, named after its twinned church in Hailsham. In 1992, before I joned the SLM, I did a bicycle ride around the UK churches to raise money to build a school here. This was flattened during the War. It was eventually rebuilt, and a second three classroom block recently erected. The secondary school currently meet here, but are under pressure toget their own home. It was very touching to be presented with a wooden staff, carved by one of the boys – a symbol of honour or authority such as a chief or elder. Unfortunately we didn’t get to meet Magnus Bendu, the minister and well known from his visit to England two years ago. We were both affected by the plight of one of the teachers, a long serving man called Alex Turey, who was suffering with a hernia and had been unable to teach for qite a while. We determined to leave him with the money he needed for the operation.

The first time came to Fabina the school and church were meeting in a pitch black community building. It was so dark that you could bearly make them out. How they could possibly learn or celebrate with that, the dust and humidity I do not know. To come back and find a brand new three classroom building was fantastic. This was another project with Francis behind it. The green, white and blue stripes were a neat touch.

Songo Loko was another site full of memories. Six years ago, Gordon Hamilton and I attended the official opening of the school. It came across as being one of the biggest community events in this area ever with many speeches from signicant local people and much pomp, ceremony and dancing. As we left, enormous peakers were beng unloaded from the back of a van. I suspect the party lasted for hours. Returning, things hadn’t stood still. A new building stands alongside the last for teachers to use to sleep in as it is some way from where they live. This is bit of an experiment. It will be interesting to see if it helps. So far it hasn’t particularly as they haven’t managed to get any bedding there yet… We were also introduced to achurch member who was suffering from a really nasty eye wound. He clearly could not afford the required treatment and once more we determined to help.

Our last port of call was Christ Church, Hastings, whch is twinned with Shoreham in the UK. The minster here is our head agent himself, Rev. Sylvanus Alba Nicol. Sylvanus is a very perceptive man with a wry tinkle in his eye and a really dry sense of humour. He is also renown in the SL Connexion for his poetry – I’ve had for ome time a selection of them which I keep meaning to publish as a fundraiser. We saw much more of him than we expected. We discovered when we got here that he’d recently had a double hernia operation, and was still cleary quite tender. My last memories of Hastings were of a church devoid of roof and full of scaffolding. The roof is now back n and the inside decorated. It hasbeome a beautiful, restful place. It was quite noticible that unlike vitually everywhere else, the church didn’t present us with a list of ‘constraints’ for us to meet, just a tray full of fruit. Beautiful. We decided to risk offence and share them out, a gift turned into a spotaneous banquet, from being distinguished guests we became family members. A wonderful end to the day!

This was always going to be a long day…

It started with a phone call from Francis to tell us he would be late; he was stuck in traffic in Lumley. This was bad news. We had quite a few appointments to get through and our timings had slipped before we started. It was nice to have a few more minutes to prepare though.

Eventually he made it and we started our daily journey through Freetown, calling off at our travel company’s office to reconfirm our outward flights – I had tried to do this on my mobile, but the call had ended abruptly, leaving me unsure of whether or not it had een done. Some things are worth checking!

Eventually we emerged from Freetown, picked up Sylvanus nd Augustine, and started trawling the petrol stations looking for fuel. This isn’t always straightfoward, and so it proved today with two garages (including a 24 hour Tesco – somewhat bizarre seeing that here) saying they had problems with the pumps or were out of fuel. We were quite far out when we found what we wanted, and this was at a station with only manual pumps… Everything was conspiring against us.

Turning off the main Peninsula road, Francis put his foot down and we sped to the south of the Peninsula and the village of Bureh Town. We were given funds to build a church here by our friends from Bolney, but a series of problems obtaining land has caused a frustrating wait of a number of years. At last, however, things are beginning to move. As we drove, Sylvanus informed us that Reuben was simultaneously travelling to finalise the papers with the Ministry. Bureh Town is a small fishing village, a simple and beautiful place, with no permanent church at all. The congregation, guided by Gibril Bendu, meet in a small room in mud hut (his house?) Their faith was clearly real. They have gathered in various places, none ideal, as they have waited for a place of their own. The last temporary structure we built them blew down! Despite these setbacks, they have persevered. It was lovely to be able to tell them that at last it looked as if we could raise a home for them. Like Daniel in Mongegba, it was heartening to see someone resisting the lure of the city to stay and serve their home village community. Before we left they fed us the most gorgeous fish steak and local rice. Stunning flavour.

We were also treated to fish and chips at Tombo and St. Marks, Waterloo. Extremely generous, but too much! Someone has clearly said that this is what Englishmen eat… I never thought I would go off Leonian snapper or chips but I think we have had this at least once a day if not twice!

Tombo is another fishing village, but much larger. Rev. Angel Ama-Lamin is minister of this older church, overseeing both it and the school that meet there. I was most impressed by the school. The headmistress is paid through the funds that we send, but the other three staff are supported by the community. What they get is really just a pittance, and yet they stay and do what they can as they are committed to education. They appealed for a school building, and there’s room on the plot – in light of their dedication, out of all the teaching projects, this is the one Augustine prioritised. It was also good to see Angel again, not long ago were we asked to send money to help him, he had been diagnosed with an enlarged heart. I’m not sure exactly what was wrong, or what treatment he required, but it was clearly serious. He has lost a lot of weight – but not the determination to get me speaking Krio!

From Tombo we headed over to Bethel Church in Cole Town. Francis did some masterful driving to get us down the ‘track’ to get us there. It struck me that this was a church that felt quite sorry for itself (whenyou see the pictures of St. Marks you can understand how this could happen). Rev. Sammuel Williams has been suffering from cateracts. He has had one eye done, but needs help with the other. Pastor Beresford Coker showed us the extenion he’d been doing to create an altar area. Personally, I don’t understand the need for this, or the desire to sit te minister behind it, miles away from and ‘above’ the congregation, but it does seem very important to people here.

St. Marks, Waterloo, is the ‘cathedral’ of the Connexion, an enormous, ornate, and prosperous church, quite unlike any other here or for that matter in the UK. I didn’t recognize it at first, they haveredecortedit inside and out. They also have plans to build a hall alongside it. The minister here is Alex Dixon who was for along time one of our agents. He was assisted by James Davies, who in also the Connexional Secretary and Vice principle at TECT. Our gathering was quite political, and a bit dfficult to manage. Some of this refered back to the elections at Conference. We also had to expain to Mrs. Brown why we can’t offer further help towards rehabilitating and securing the nearby church at Adelphi. Fortuntely, Tim is fantastic at hanling chikdren and old ladies!

Ths was supposed to be theend of the day, but having missed out the day before, we called in at TECT where the principle told us at length in a hot, sweltering, room about the expanding work. One of our party fell asleep – not one of us you’ll be glad to hear.

Home late, stuffed and exhusted. A long day.

Today has been a varied day of on the one hand heart-stopping beauty, human vision and care and on the other desperate lives and attempted cons.

We started off heading to a church called Wellington. This I had been looking forward to seeing, as this is a place I have never been to before. We parked just off the main road, and had to walk the rest of the way. This was a real treat for me. Those who know me well know I have a thing about mountains (comes from being a Fen-boy and spending most of my life and sea level!) The road to Wellington is not suitable for vehicles, a mix of pot-holes and scree, trecherous underfoot, let alone for a car. It leads up a step incline towards the mountains tha line the peninsula. The view is breathtaking. We call England a green and pleasant land, so is Sierra Leone, but in a different way. England is green from the grass and plants at ground level. Here the ground is red or sandy dust or rock. The green is above the ground, in the palm trees and banana plants, or in the canopies of of the mangrove swamps.

The church/school is a new building. I think we are the first from the UK to see complete, all but the last touches of paint. It is a lovely airy building, surprisingly cool. This is another effort from our driver, Francis, and the Friends of Sierra Leone. We were, as always, placed, placed at the front for a series of presentations. These included an hilarious sketch put on by a number of children in Krio to demonstrate the importance of education – there is often a real tension between paying for children to go to school and keeping them at home so they can earn money for the family. The actors were wonderful, bags of expression and humour, but the underlying message was a very serious one. The school is run by a handful of in effect volunteer teachers, who through their labour underline this, through working for next to nothing they ae demonsrating how important they see education as being. The work here was instigated by Augustine, and he continues to be the Pastor.

From Wellington Allen Town. Another church/school up a steep slope. This time, however, we were driven (shame, I had enjoyed the exercise!) Our local primary school in England have been attempting to set up an exchange of letters between the two sets of children. They had written, and the pupils of Allen Town had replied. When I had left to come, these last letters had not yet arrived in England, however, just the other day I heard from my excited daughter who is at the school, that they had come. And so it was that I found myself on a quest to find the child that had written to her. His name was Francis Ma???? (it turned out to be Marveh) Shouldn’t be too hard you might think, but Allen Town school has a roll of around 1000 children!!! I mentioned my quest to Augustine in the vague hope that he might be able to help as he one of the heads at the school. Imagine my surprise when he announced that he knew the child, and that he was in fact his adopted son! And so it was that I managed to get my photo for my daughter (you should see it in the slide show) and left one of her with him. Allen Town School is a wonderful contrast to so many of the places we visit. It is such a large vibrant heaving school, with big vision and scope. The reception we get here is always magnificent. From time to time you may see charity programmes where celebrities go to developing countries and get mobbed by children. You might wonder if it is because they are celebrities,or because it is staged. Itis neither of these things, here at Allen Town it is a spontaneous response when anyone pulls out a camera or photo. I have fond memories of another friend who came here with me. You can barely see him, just a speck of light hair showing under a current of African children. Much has changed here since I last came. They now have a church building (almost complete), staff room (although this is currently occupied by a secondary school class,with the teachers gathering under a tree) and perimeter wall.

Eventully, we tore ourselves away from Allen Town and headed to Jui and TECT, The Evangelical School of Theology. When we arrived, however, we discovered the Principle had not been informed of when we were coming and so was not there. We’re going to try again tomorrow. Having spent to long at Wellington and Allen Town, this helped get us back on track with our timings – for today anyway.

To end the day we travelled along the mountain road to Mongegba. I defy anyne to go there and say there is no god, the backdrop is just so staggeringly beautiful. The church is run by Rev. Daniel Koroma, assisted by Lay Pastors Moses and Amadu Sesay (not to beconfused with Rev. Amadu Sesay at Manalo). Daniel revealed himself to be someone for a real love of others. He grew up in this poor village and is currently the only person to be qualified above Secondary School level. He has a real desire to help those who live here, especially the children. He pays the school fees for a number ofchildren out his own pocket – a level of care for others children I have seen in a few others too. We met him and the congregation in the church building alongside the school that was errected since my last visit – for those that knew him, the church has a plaque to the memory of our very own Ted Long. After the formal proceedings were over, Daniel took us for a walk into the mountains, not to show them off, but to introdu e us to the children chipping granite. They come here after school at about 2pm and smash up the rocks by hand until about 7pm. This can be sold for a meager amount, hardly a fair return for the effort put in. Daniel wants us to find sponsors so that they can aid them and ensure they continue going to school.

The journey home was relatively quick. It never ceases to amaze me how much traffic there is, poda podas, taxis and okadas (the motorbike version of the poda poda, often as dangerously loaded too!) It was not without incident, however. As we were crawling through central Freetown, a man stepped out in front of us and got knocked to the ground. It was clearly not our fault, but of course we stopped to ensure he was alright. Francis bought him back into the car so that we could take him towards the hospital to be checked over, and his companion insisted on coming too. It didn’t take long before we smelt a rat. He began showing us other wounds, mainly from the war, including gun shots to his legs, and insisting that we helped wih these too. His friend, we spotted, also had his hands in everthing, seeking for some easy pickings. It was hard working prying them out of the car, but eventually Francis managed it through what I would call firm grace. It was another sad reminder of the war and thecontinuing effect of it on people, not so different in some ways of tales of ex-soldiers in England who can’t cope with ‘civvy-street’ and end up on the street.

There are a lot of photos today as I took many at Allen Town so they could be shared with the children at Wormley Primary School who have ‘twinned’ with them. I shall eventually move many of these to their page, but haven’t time to do that now.

Today would be the last chance to have a bit of time to ourselves before what looks like a somewhat manic week.

This morning we headed into Freetown for a service at Lady Selina’s Chapel, where Rev. Lauretta Marah is Minister, assisted by Jamestina Sankoh. This was one of the first building projects I co-ordinated, and still one of the largest we’ve done. It was great to see Mulbah Harris, who designed the building and came over just to meet us. Thanks to ‘The Friends of Sierra Leone’ there’s now a set of offices on top of the church. The service was a wonderful blend of old time English hymns, and jubilant African songs. As always they were very welcoming. Tim preached this morning,talking on his favourite topic of the moment, Gideon, picking up on the time when he was cowering in a winepress, and God spoke to him, calling him a ‘Mighty Warrior’ and giving him the instruction to go in his own strength, and he would be with him. It was all spot on, and had much to say about not believing thy are insignificant, and avoiding the view that they are dependent on the rich West to acheive anything. We also taught them an English children’s song ‘My God is so Big’. I suspect they saw us as two mad white men!

This afternoon we had free! Our last chance to wander down Lumley Beach, dodging the crowds playing football and dancing to music pumped out at distorted levels from ridiculously large speakers. A pleasant stroll. We felt very safe wandering amongst them, greated with many smiles. We were approached a lot less by folks hassling us to buy trinkets than previous visits I thought. Feeling brave, we ventured into Lumley Craft Market – a real tourist trap. We made many new friends! Neither Tim or I are good at haggling or saying no, but we managed to do well and resisted buying every thing out of guilt at high prices!