I'm sure you're aware of the fact that we cheat when it comes to these Dagara Diaries. It would be good for neither you nor us if you were actually to read all our pure, unedited journal entries. We are very selective when it comes to what we share with you (after all, this is 'official' Diary entry 28. . . we've been here a lot longer than 28 days!). However, in the interest of fairness, I'd like to share with you two village outings that would normally go completely unnoticed. . .

A normal Friday evening outing to Dano-Pari involves three people: myself, my bride Melissa, and our friend Severen (it's his village). We lost Severen early on, as there was a funeral in his family quite some distance away. This didn't bode well for the meeting, not only because our party was down by 1/3 but also because most of the people that come belong to his funeral-bound family. Then, Melissa wound up not being able to go because of a bellyache. That cut us down another 1/3, leaving, I will freely admit, the caboose of the Dano-Pari train still on track.

I showed up for the meeting, and, as I suspected, found that none of the 'regulars' were there (turns out there was another funeral in a nearby village to which many had gone). Sitting on one of the benches we use was a man who had come to one or two meetings (regretfully, he was just resting, not waiting). I plopped down beside him and started filling time (I usually give meetings at least an hour, preferably 1.5 hours before I give up on them). Have you ever tried to 'fill time' with a complete stranger in your third spoken language? Here are some of my more creative attempts:

• So, cotton looks good this year, huh?
• So, we sure got some rain last night, huh?
• So, what are you growing in your field?
• So, the sound of 50 or so sheep eating grass in the midst of this thundering awkward silence between us sure sounds cool, huh?
• So, cotton looks good this year, huh?

Sadly, those are the highlights. Eventually, I called it a night, asking my conversation partner to tell any super-latecomers that I would be back next Friday.

Saturday didn't really go much better. I'd found out the night before that there was also a funeral in the village of Mebar (it's the malaria season these days). But, being the persistent (some say pig-headed) guy that I am, I showed up anyway. I found one of the new Christians, a leader of the church, hanging out at home (resting, actually - he had been a drummer at the funeral earlier in the day). He told me there was a funeral, and, since I told him I already knew about it, he asked why I'd come. I told him I wanted to come anyway just in case some people still wanted to meet. He gave me a confused look, and the time killing began (my friend Kpebaar is not a stranger, though, so I was a little more articulate). . .

• So, how's the tailoring business? (in addition to being a drummer, he's also a tailor)
• So, how's your wife's millet beer business? (she runs a local bar)
• So, she sells moonshine, too? (remember - these are still baby Christians only starting to figure out how Dagara Christians should act)
• So, cotton looks good this year, huh? (Pop always said to stick with what works. . . )

After about half an hour or so of this, we rounded up the two other men who had come, and we had a chain prayer (the new Christians are still pretty uncomfortable praying out loud, so we try to pray with them as often as possible). After that, I encouraged them to meet together on Sunday morning, and I headed off to the funeral to greet some of the folks there (I saw several of the Christians and had the chance to say hi). I then headed home, stopping along the way to drown my sorrows in a hot steaming cup of tea with Mr. Barry (I figured that was more appropriate than the moonshine…).

Some weeks it just plays out this way. Not every village visit can include a trek to the pond for baptisms. At times, it is a little discouraging, especially when there are funerals two, three or even four weeks in a row. While I at times return from visits like these frustrated, I never return with my spiritual tail between my legs. I know that God is slowly winning back this territory for the glory of his Name, and that, while individual meetings might be delayed, God's will will be done!

Stubborn (and joyful) as always,

Andy

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