Bone-jarring is the only way to describe it. Rural roads in Liberia, and over half of the urban ones, are not paved, but a reddish clay-like soil; think Georgia or Albemarle County, Virginia. Coupled with a prolonged rainy season, the roads are criss-crossed with deep, semi-permanent ruts. Think mini Grand Canyons. It's not unusual to have to back up and find an alternate route, especially if there is a disabled vehicle in the way, one that broke an axle or punctured a tire trying to negotiate the crevasses in the road.
Thursday morning's trip to Pleebo was no exception. It is nineteen miles from downtown Harper and takes about an hour to negotiate. But the trip was so worth it. For one thing we stopped at an ongoing rubber farm, one where Annie Cooper spent many of her holidays as a child. There was such a radiant look of recognition on her face as she took it all in; it was wonderful to see. At the edge of the clearing, just where the rubber trees started, there were two huge trees, which Annie identified as 'Cottonwoods,” although they are nothing like the small trees we call Cottonwoods in the plains states. These trees are huge and stately. While we were admiring them, Annie told me that they were planted especially at the boarders of villages so that those who were walking down the road would see the trees and take heart that home was not that far away.
We stopped for a time about half way to Pleebo at the rectory of St. Anthony's Roman Catholic Church to see an old friend of Paul Jones, Father Thomas Hayden, an Irishman from Boston. All this way to meet a fellow Red Sox fan; we are everywhere. Father Hayden came to Liberia as a twenty-five year old priest in 1958 and has been in Africa for over 50 years, only absent from the country during the worst of the troubles. He retired once and returned to the United States, but it wasn't home; so now he's back outside of Pleebo in a little Liberian village, pastoring a small Church. I bet he saw the Cottonwoods upon his return. Meeting Fr. Hayden was such a moving experience for me because he is a living representative of all those faithful missionaries from the west who spent their lives in places and with people they grew to love so fiercely.
In Pleebo we visited St. Stephen's Episcopal Church and School which was very uplifting. St. Stephens itself is a modest structure; it has a sound roof and new windows and doors, and it seats about 125 people. But the real exciting thing was the school. Until just a few years ago it was K-6, but has now expanded through grade 12. Although the high school is not big, it has been very successful. Last spring 14 seniors took the national exams and 12 passed; nationally, the average is about 22%. We walked around the classes; the school is laid out all on one level with each classroom exiting out into a common courtyard. Deeply concentrating on final exams, the fifth graders were bent over their papers. We were encouraged to stick our heads in and say hi. When my traveling companion Dr. Annie Cooper asked them about the first question, they were quick to recite it. When she asked for the answer we all laughed. “Don't give it away!” the teacher exclaimed.
We are leaving Harper on Friday afternoon, back to Monrovia where I will be preaching at two churches Sunday morning. There is so much to absorb about my visit in this beautiful, complicated, isolated place. I am in awe of Dr. Ajavon-Cox, who runs Smiles for Liberia. She saw 45 patients in two very long days, and she was broken-hearted to have left people untreated, some who had walked hours from their villages. There just wasn't enough time to see them all.
That there are bumpy roads ahead is a reality. Yet the resilience, the faith, the love of the Lord in this place is so strong. Those who labor in this vineyard have been challenged by the most difficult of circumstances–poverty, years of war, and chaos. They will prevail, of that I am sure. May we all keep our eyes on the Cottonwood at the end of the road.
Bumpy road ahead.
