Driving on this red dirt road turned into the most physically uncomfortable trips I have ever been on. I look up the bumpy road ahead to see a spot of pavement. Yes, I cry in my head, a smooth patch. Little did I know that in order to dodge most of the holes, we would have to drive halfway on the pavement and halfway in the ditch beside. A few miles up the road, the tracks of previous vehicles lead off the road onto this newly formed road. There must be a big hole up ahead informs the driver. I am informed that during the rainy season, big semi trucks dig holes 10 feet deep in the soft ground; impassable for any vehicle besides the motorbikes. My buttocks was relieved for the second time (the first being for make-shift road repairs after a truck full of boxes tipped over) when we come upon a line of passenger trucks and vans. We get out of the truck to relieve our bladders and stretch the legs and walk up to see what was going on. A van stuffed full of people had gotten itself stuck in the mud. The driver got everybody out of the van to push and pull. Eventually, it was our turn. Luckily, the Montero 4X4 easily made it through the mess. 

About 5 hours later, we arrive upon what motivated us to make the trip: The refugee camp. Unlike what I had expected (tents, relief workers and food distribution sites) it just looked like a small village of mud and grass huts. We turned off the road and weaved our way through the homes to the center of the village. The arrival of a vehicle, not to mention a vehicle with Baba Jesse and his sabajos, attracted the people, who came out to greet us. Sanu, Sanu, Useko, Useko kept echoing around me as I lightly shook the hands of multitudes of people.

These are the Emaneya Fulbe from the CAR. The president of the CAR didn't have enough military support to control his rural country and decided to arm random locals with rifles and the promise of payment if they would control the masses under his name. The new recruits upheld their end of the deal until the president fell through with the payments. Now, instead of not having enough military support to control his country, the president had armed locals with no military support to control them. These people, finding newfound strength and power with their weapons, decided that they would take advantage of this situation and make a little money in the process. They started to harass and kidnap other locals with the demand of money. 

The Fulbe people were a prime target, specifically the Emaneya Fulbe. They are a cattle tribe, are more reserved than most Africans, and Emaneya happens to mean 'the true way'. This group of Muslims figured, from the Koran, that Jesus is a greater prophet than Muhammad, because he was sinless and performed many miracles. Naturally, the bandits deduced that these Emaneya were a prime target: they had money (cattle), they weren't true Muslims, and they were reserved (would comply with demands). After many kidnappings and murders, many of the tribe decided to leave the country to where they would be safe. Leaving what little they had left behind, they crossed the border over to Cameroon, which is where we found them.

We stayed in Jabrima's house. He has lived here for ten years. The refugees started coming about 3 years ago, and they continue to come. Jabrima has had his little house in the bush grow to be a little village of about 200 refugees. He had helped the first refugees build their homes and start a little plot of corn. But when it came to medical problems and the overabundance of new arrivals with no food, there was little he could do to help. During the first few years, many people died of malaria and other curable diseases. By the time I got to see them, they had received help from the missionaries by the way of medical needs, corn seeds, a water pump and a grinding mill.

We helped in what we could. We handed out buckets of supplies (little things like tooth-brushes and toothpaste, cutlery, soap, etc. to make their lives a little bit easier), talked to the people, found out some needs, prayed with them, and Baba Jesse (Jesse’s dad) taught a few things. At night we would be lulled to sleep by Arabic chants about Jesus.

After a couple of nights, we made our way back home. The roads were noticeably better, as it hadn’t rained in a while. Besides the ever so often tailgating of an aggressive gas truck, we arrived home safely and quickly. For me, it was a trip of understanding. The culture I had witnessed was so deep; it was molded so deep into the people that no amount of suffering or hardships could change the contentment of the people. It was good for me to be able to see this. I often think about humanitarian work and how it affects the culture. Is it right for us to go into an ‘undeveloped’ place, bring with us technology that will change their lives, make it better in our understanding? Is it wrong for us not to? How much value does culture hold when compared with human life? I believe there is a way to help people without destroying their culture, I just haven’t quite bought in to the methods of the ever so confident speakers I have heard.

Why doesn't life seem so adventurous or exciting as the stories we read? It seems that we can make things sound exceedingly better than they actually are, and then live in reality pretending that we're happy. Are our lives too safe for their to be any real excitement or adventure, or are we just too lost in fantasy worlds that it's impossible for us to be satisfied with reality? I want to be excited about life; but I want to be excited about real life now, not my grand future.

I'm starting to read the Bible again, and like the last few tries, it doesn't seem very exciting to me. I have to force myself to put away other books I'd rather read and go through the Bible verse by verse. I hope that this is a discipline of faith, hoping that it will reveal it's living Words to me, but it doesn't seem very alive to me at this moment. I realize that God doesn't need to respond to me, and that He doesn't have to reassure my existence or make me feel good. But sometimes I wish He would.

I hope that I can find God's Word more exciting than any other words, and that I can find excitement and adventure in my life through this Holy Book. I just hope that I would be helped in my confidence that it will happen. Life is a process... it just seems so long for this impatient soul.