About Me

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I came to Jos in February 2011. My main role here is as a Physiotherapist in one of the Hospitals in the city, but I'm involved in a number of other ministries: I work with prostitutes, widows and orphans, sharing the love of Christ with those whom society so often refuses or "forgets" to love.

Monday, 30 May 2011

A Different Type of Garden Party

Gyero is the care centre / orphanage where I teach a discipleship class each week. Apparently it’s only 12 miles outside of Jos, but it often seems worlds away from life in the city. Today we had a party with all the staff who work there (literally all the staff, as we started with the opening prayer of “please keep our children safe, as they are alone whilst we are here”!).

The party started in the laid back kind of a way that things usually happen round here: We headed out of the centre at about 11, for our 10am start. We travelled along a dirt road and over a bridge that has definitely seen better days, to some large houses, which are apparently where the mine owners of the area lived in colonial days. One of these houses is owned by a barrister, who was out of town, but allows us to use his garden for events such as this.

We arrived, unloaded the food, set out the chairs and all took a seat….Things were going well. I was mildly amused by the goats, which were all safely tied up, but scattered around the garden, as I thought about the goat meat we had brought with us for consumption later in the program: Until yesterday this had been one of the small heard of Gyero goats, but that’s what it was bred for right?

One of the Uncles (house parent s) was leading proceedings. He did a pretty good job of convincing us there was a planned programme of songs, games talks and food, but I remain convinced that many of those who contributed were hearing about it for the first time as their act was announced.

Not long after we had got started, some cows entered the garden, along with a small group of children. Mildly amusing, but nothing too out of the ordinary, until as somebody was singing his special number, the cows began to move closer and closer to our circle of chairs. The performer lost his composure for a second, but quickly got it together again, the children moved the cows on with some prompting, and we continued with our program.

A few minutes later, another cow made a slightly more dramatic entrance: It was attached to 2 ropes, being lead by 2 men, and didn’t seem too happy at this loss of freedom. It kicked and jumped its way through the gate, before managing to break free and disappear round the other side of the house; luckily not to be seen again by us.

We continued through our program of songs and forfeits until the next interruption: One of the goats broke loose. He apparently had a problem with every other goat in the garden, and so proceeded to chase and head butt them around, until one of the on looking children managed to grab hold of his rope, and tie him back to the tree from which he had broken free. He continued to head butt the tree, but the other goats appeared to now be out of danger, so we proceeded with our party, and began dishing out the food.

A feast had been prepared! As pieces of goat meat were pulled out of the bucket where they had been waiting, the only slightly bizarre thing that I noticed was the fuzz of hair that remained on many of the pieces. As we ate, all went smoothly; all, that was, except the baby tied to the back of the lady next to me, who vomited at the first sight of food, and the intermittent thuds as mangos dropped from the tree above us, occasionally onto a poor unsuspecting victim.

Things were drawing to a close, and I was definitely of he opinion that there had been quite enough excitement for one day, when around 10 soldiers, complete with guns, marched into the garden. They spent the next 10 minutes just kind of wandering around: Apparently some cows had been stolen the night before, and so they had been sent to investigate.

Finally, the delicacy of the day was revealed: Intestine soup. It would have been rude not to try it, so I cautiously tucked in, ensuring that I tried some of each different looking piece in my bowl. My personal favourite has to be the “Towell” so named, because of the furry lining of the intestine wall!

Having finished the meal, we cleared up, packed the cars and headed back to Gyero, where we spent some time with the children (who had managed just fine with no adults around), before heading home. I can say with confidence that this was unlike any bank holiday I’ve ever had before!

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