Sand and Sunburn

After a day in the sun I am now a wonderful, albeit painful, brown-red color. Yes I did put on sun screen.

It was Tuesday morning and I was thrilled to be bouncing over potholes and sloshing through puddles on our way to El Wau beach. After a 45 minute drive in one of the Mercy Ship vehicles, we reached the beach. It was amazing; The white sand, the huge waves crashing over black rocks, the smell of the salt water. Sure there was trash, but the sheer beauty of the waves and the sand and freedom suddenly thrust towards us, far outweighed any human touch.

We proceeded to set up camp under one of the palm trees lining the beach. I went in search for shells or sea glass along the shore. It was ever so Anne of Green Gables romantic, with the wind blowing my skirt and the waves lapping my feet. Eventually Lydia and I ran screaming and whooping into the waves. It was incredibly warm and I have never seen larger waves. I had heard of the dangerous rip tides and didn't dare go in farther than my shoulders. Even then the pull of the waves rolling back were enough to knock me off my feet untill the next crested over me and brought me soaked and laughing back up towards the sand.

We were probably making spectacles of ourselves and we drew quite a crowd of onlookers. They all came silently, chatting under their breath, taking a break from their work to watch the crazy white ladies swimmming in the ocean. We eventually tired and headed towards some rocks. A group of young men approached us. I couldn't understand much of what they said due to their thick accents, but I got the gist. "Your friendship is important to us." How do you tell people that you can't give them aide when they havn't even asked? It seems callused, but the sad truth is that when people here want to be your friend it is because they have been taught that white people are an opportunity to get something. Lydia very tactfully responded and we were able to continue without them following us.

After eating lunch we laid out on the white sand. I began hearing woops and the patter of bare feet. I turned around to see a crowd of young boys chasing after the tiny crabs that enhabited the beach. They looked to range from 6 years old to 10.

They were so sweet. We made little tunnels for the crabs and I played a soccer game with them. This was the first time I had met Liberian children who didn't seem to want something from me. It was innocent and refreshing. They crouched around me as we shared names and ages and the occasional drawing when I didn't understand something. After several hours of playing with them I reluctantly told them I had to leave. It was almost time to visit the orphanage.

Scare of the Day: Slowly they all circled around. The last one to kneal down beside me had a foot long kitchenn knife clutched in one of his small hands. I was trying to understand what they were saying. "Go home."

Hurt, "you want me to go home?" "no, no...with us....there."

They pointed at one of the homes on the edge of the beach were their mother was working. Ity was then I saw the stick that they had been widdling into some kind of toy. I wanted to go with these precious children and meet their family, but I knew it probably wasn't safe and we had to leave. I promised them that I would come back and play more soccer with them. I plan on keeping that promise.

The orphanage consisted of several small huts surrounding a sandy courtyard with a pump and children of all ages running every which direction. the entire area had a fence around it-partially of wood and partially of a kind of plant they weave into mats for huts/ceilings etc. as we entered, even more children emerged from the huts and ran towards us-arms open wide. They were adorable. They all fought to sit on our laps or hold our hands or be held and snuggled with. Little hands touched my hair-trying to plate it and put it in the cornrow braids they are wo used to. Little fingers clutched my legs and arms. We would sit in the dirt and the children would run up behind us and ask for piggy backs or cover our eyes and make us guess their name. We drew pictures in the dirt and laughed at our different interpretations of cars and trees and houses. We drew eachother. I would look down and they would be touching my toenail polish and measuring how wide my feet were. And it was filled with laughter and wonder and I wanted to keep them all. They told me how old they were and what their grades were and were horrified when I told them Jordan was in 11th grade: "That many more to go?!"
I would get up to walk around and they would all insist on brushing of the dirt from my skirt and flip flops. We made sand castles and talked and talked. They trieid to brush the sand fromt he beach off my skin. By this time I was thuroughly red, salty and raw. I would have to move around because my legs would get so sore from them sitting on my lap. It was wonderful to be so completely accepted despite differences. When we had to leave they wrote a list of their names down so I could tell you about them. So I have told you about them. Lydia still has they list of names. I cant even remember their names, but I remmeber their faces and smiles and that is all I need.
Thank you all so much for the support. Please pray that God would bless these children. I feel bless just being around them.

A Day Off

So this morning I heard my alarm and after much snooze-button pressing I finally got up. I had heard another girl's alarm go off and guessed that it was Kayla's-she is my work leader and my rommate. So I rushed up all late and then realized it was another one of my rommates-she works the other shift. So it's a day off today-I went right back to bed already ready for the day and thus proceeded to get up in time for lunch. :)
I just had a wonderful conversation with a father and his daughter from India. They just arrived and are staying here for 2 weeks-he works in the eye dept. His daughters name is Rebecca. It is so nice to get to know some knew people and welcome them.
I'm super excited about tomorrow-Lidya, another girl that works with me, invited me to join her on a trip to the beach and then an orphanage. I can't wait.
I am fighting off the monotony-so keep me busy with updates and e-mails and pictures-
I love you all so much

Corina

African Church Service

This morning I was able to attend one of the African churches in the village. They used a small drum and a gord with a beaded net around it to make music. There was allot of clapping and "Amen's" during the service. It was awesome and afterwards all the little children circled around us as we handed out stickers and took pictures on digital cameras. They had a small child doing the drums. It was some kind of complicated rhythm that made me want to break out dancing. Mom, you would have loved it. I think it officially ruined any kind of Western style church service for me. And the sermon was great. It focused on how to please God with our worship through foor steps:
heart-The heart pumps blood to all parts of our body and worship should infuse every part of our lives just like that
honor- the Creator and not the created
honest-be honest with god and let him prepare you for worship
humble-worship is about God and not us
I later found out that the pastor actually works on Mercy Ships as and eye doctor.

These people are so friendly and yet they have so little. It really puts in to perspective things I take for granted. It makes the American way of life look pampered and ignorant. We depend so much on material posessions for our happiness. These people don't buy machines to excercise, they work everyday all day just to feed their family. Going to the beach to swim is also unheard of. That is were the children wash clothes. Every day it is a fight just to survive. If people that have so little to be happy about can be thankful, than how much more so should I be.

Daniel and the Piano

Hey!
Did you all get my update? -I am slowly but surely settling in.It is a glorious day today. it's funny, but i'm having more fun working than not. because my off days are in the middle of the week I have to sign up way ahead of time to go into the village-I found my last days of rainy and monotonous-
but my mood has lifted. i am slowly coming out of my shell-it's really nice job-wise on the weekends because people back their lunches so we have a nice big break from 9am-4pm-I love it.
yesterday I was working "the line" (aka-a buffet line) and I really enjoyed greeting the people-we had pizza (very messy). yesterday I met a little boy named Daniel. i was playing the piano (yes they have one for anyone to play!) and he pulled himself up on the bench beside me and thus instructed me in the fine art of randomly banging the keys with ones fists. he was very cute and his mother was very nice, although aghast at his rambunctious behavior.
Again, I'm catching up fromseveral days ago and I'll try to keep yoiu all posted.

Here At Last!!!

Thank all of you for the prayer and e-mails and concern and I will try to keep you updated on all my adventures.

God placed so many wonderful people around me during my travels that I had no doubt of His divine protection. I met a very sweet couple that lived in Brussels. They insisted that I visit them Europe and try the chocolate. "Real Belgium chocolate is like art." I also met a very friendly lady named Liz who was headed to Monrovia because her husband is a professor in an African school. And Amanda and John. Amanda is also working in food service on Mercy Ships. She is definitely one of my closest friends so far. John is a doctor on the ship from England and acts as our surrogate father. Monrovia was crazy. The airport was tiny. As soon as we got through security, people fought over who would carry our bags (hoping for a tip.) The ride was quite an adventure. Honking and swerving our driver, Isaac, sped through people and traffic. Oh, and I also met Natalie. She's from Australia and has the most amazing accent. "Aye mate?"

I have met so many people from so many different places-the UK , England , Australia , America , South Africa , Sweden UAE etc. My roommates are very friendly as well as the girls that work with me. My dining room team works two days a week and 5 days the next. We also have breaks between the meals, which is really nice. I sweat buckets, but the food is delicious and the work is satisfying.

There are plenty of things to do to get involved with the crew as well as the community. A few days ago I went to market. What an experience! Debris mingles with the dust. The trash I can get used to, except for one item. Occasionally you see a single flip flop lying in the road; dusty and grey and smaller than the palm of my hand-that I can't get used to. I want to find that precious child and give them a new pair of flip flops. Children that look less than 1 year old are constantly running around on their own, only the smallest ones strapped to their mother's backs. That was the first time I had seen the children here and it was love at first sight.

The market was quite intimidating at first. Adults shout from sidewalks and stands and taxis. "Beautiful white woman, come here! White woman, why don't you wave to us? White woman, buy this, see it matches what you are wearing!" They crowd around you and follow you closely, vying for attention. We had to hide our Mercy ship ID cards. There are so many people that need help here and we can't help everyone at once and that was the most heart-wrenching realization to me. I had to separate my mind and my heart to keep in perspective that in their desperation some simply saw me as an opportunity.

I am definitely still adjusting and have yet to go on any of the organized trips. I really want to go to one of the orphanages and a church on Sunday-it just depends on my shift schedule. I went to an African style Ward Service last Sunday. They danced and sang and there was a brief message. Near the end we laid hands on a little Liberian boy who was staying in that room. I held his tiny hand. It made my day. I went to the community service that night. I enjoyed knowing the songs, but found myself longing for the freedom of the African worship service. I guess the strangest thing to me so far is that I don’t feel like I’m in Africa . Africa is distant and filled with things I can’t relate to, but these people are my family. I have discovered that God is still here.
The ship itself is very safe. Almost every other door is a fire door and the driveway leading to the ship has a high concrete wall on both sides. It is about a half mile long so I often see people jogging back and forth. We are only allowed out past the gate in groups and everyone must be on the ship by 11:00pm. Once on the ship they let us wonder as long as we adhere to the quiet hours. So in a sense it is very safe and yet I have a sense of freedom. I have become quite well acquainted with the ship thanks to jet lag. I haunt the library and find myself exploring the halls or reading for hours on the top deck. I feel close to God up there.

Well, that's my adventure so far. Keep me updated on what is happening with you all.

Address to send mail for when I'm on Africa Mercy:

Corina Gochenaur
Mercy Ships
M/V Africa Mercy
Food Service
PO Box 2020
Lindale TX 75771-2020 USA

How It All Started

It all started with a Christmas vacation to my Aunt Char and Uncles Kieth's in West Virginia. They live in a big old beautiful house in the Appalachian Mountains. Every summer they house volunteers as part of a nonprofit program called SWAP (Serving With Appalachian Peoples). Ministry is viewed as a lifestyle and volenteers are encouraged to deepen their relationsip with Christ and eachother through helping local people. While we were there, we met another family involved in the SWAP program. I saw how fufilled and happy they were and decided to check this SWAP thing out.


So the next summer I found myself in West Virginia for 6 weeks doing everything from drywalling to cooking to building footers. And I realized that I could relate to these people and they were some of the sweetest, most amazing people I have ever met. They have so much faith because there are less material things to get in the way. And I realized that it wasn't just me believing in God. God believes in me. It was like having the whole world laid out before me. It was truly one of the most fufilling, life-changing experiences in my life.


I came home more confident and happy. I was willing to put myself on the line and be vulnerable. And that is ultimately what inspired me to do Mercy Ships. I feel like God has swept me off my feet to show me His fingerprints on lives around the world.