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Name: John Mark Gender: Male
Interests: Bible, Languages, History, Cultures, Ethnomusicology, Cryptozoology, Gardening Expertise: Jack of all trades, master of none Occupation: Ministry Program Coordinator Industry: Missionary/Humanitarian Work
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Member Since:
7/20/2006
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| So I realize that I have been terrible at keeping up with this blog. It's not that nothing exciting has been happening in my life. At the beginning of July I finished up my linguistics studies in Dallas. Shortly after that, on June 12th, I became a married man! In addition to finishing up her Master's in Social Work and working almost full time, Sara planned and pulled off the most amazing wedding ever. I know I am probably a bit prejudiced, but others agreed that it was one of the best weddings they had ever been to. It was held outdoors in a botanical garden in Madison, Wisconsin. The weather was just perfect. And Sara looked absolutely stunning. I feel so very blessed to be married to her!
It was great to see my family again, who had flown in from Africa earlier that week. My sisters Melodie and Heidi did a great job as bridesmaids. Melodie also made some delicious cheesecake for the reception afterwards and helped Heidi to get the great pictures you see here.
Mike Webster and Greg Vruggink, buddies of mine from Cedarville University, served as groomsmen, along with my brother Nathan, who was the best man. It was great being with them again.
The reception afterwards was also very nice. It was held in the church of some of our friends. We had spend most of the day before at the church setting up tables and preparing the decorations and food. It was great to see how it all came together. We loved seeing so many of our friends and family all in one place, although it was hard not being able to spend much time with any one person.
We spent the next week after the wedding visiting friends and family. We even had another reception in Minneapolis for people who had not been able to make it to the wedding. Soon after that we were off on our honeymoon! Thanks to the generosity of Sara's friend's and relatives, we were able to enjoy free ticket and timeshare condo in Grand Cayman Island in the Caribbean. It was the picture perfect tropical island honeymoon.
We spent a lot of time on our honeymoon relaxing, and recovering from the last few stressful weeks. But we did spend some time doing touristy things. Sara and I both really enjoyed the snorkeling there. We could snorkel right off the beach from where we were staying and saw some cool fish, including a nurse shark (which is not dangerous). The best snorkeling we did though was when we took a half-day excursion on a tour boat. We saw some amazing coral reefs which had all kinds of brightly colored fish. We even saw a six-foot moray eel! I had seen a lot of these fish before in aquariums, but it was a whole new experience to be swimming among them. Before we stopped for lunch, we visited a sandbar known as "Stingray City". Here, tons of stingrays wait around for people to feed them. They are extremely docile. After feeding them, they will even let you pick them up out of the water! That was definitely one of the highlights of the trip for me.
Another day we rented a scooter and explored the island. It is quite small. You can drive across it in less than an hour.
The day we were exploring the island we went to a beautiful botanical park. Besides all the beautiful plants there, they had these iguanas just wandering around everywhere. One of the smaller islands is home to the endangered Blue Iguana, and at the park there they have a captive breeding program going on to help boost their numbers. It is the funniest thing to see these huge lizards eating leaves and fruit.
We ate out almost every night on our honeymoon. There are some great restaurants there, even if they are quite pricey. The last night we went to this fancy ocean-side place called "The Wharf". We had a delicious steak and lobster dinner, and were serenaded by a live harp player. One interesting thing about this restaurant is that every night at nine o'clock they feed the dozens tarpon that come in the evening looking for handouts. These are huge fish, 3-5 feet long. Sara and I both had a chance to use tongs to pick up some of the "bait" and hang it over the water for the tarpon to jump up and grab.
God is so good in providing for such a beautiful honeymoon for us. I am in constant awe of His grace. I anticipate a lot more adventures for Sara and I in the future, but doubt we will ever again have a chance to visit a place like Grand Cayman. What a great way to start off our marriage!
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| Wow, it has been a long time since I updated my blog! If you have not heard the big news, I am now engaged! Yes, the lovely Sara Dean has agreed to be my wife. From the day Sara and I started dating, I was quite certain that she was the one I would marry. But she had to leave to go back to the States, and we were separated for four months as I finished up with my Samaritan’s Purse contract in Liberia. The time apart was tough, but we kept in touch with Skype and regular phone calls. Still during that time we grew closer together as a couple. Then in the middle of December I returned to the States and was met by Sara, my brother Nathan, and my grandparents at the airport. I spent a few days in Minneapolis, and then went to Wisconsin to spend some more time with Sara.
After some time with her in Madison, we went to her hometown, Berlin, to spend Christmas with her family. I had a wonderful time meeting them. I had an important question to ask her dad, but only a limited amount of time there. It was the day before Christmas Eve, and I knew I wanted to propose the next day. I had only been to her house for a few hours, when I worked up the courage to talk to her dad about my intentions towards Sara. He was very gracious and told me that I had their blessing. The next day in the early afternoon before the extended family arrived I decided the time had come. I had been working on a particular song for several years, but could never finish it. When I fell in love with Sara however, I finally had the inspiration I need to complete it. So I pulled out my guitar and poured out my heart to her in this song.
Your hand in my hand We will walk this road of life If you let me be your defender I’ll keep you safe through darkest night
You should know that You should know I’m going to be here for you Forever and always
Chorus: Because a love like this don’t come but One in a lifetime So hold on tight and don’t let go Let’s see where this road leads us
Many waters cannot quench our love No, our flame burns pure and true And floods will never drown it Forever I love you
Sara loved the song. I then told her it was time to open the big gift-bag she knew was my Christmas present for her. When she opened it, she found a special carved wooden box that I had made for her in Liberia. It commemorated the time we spent together in Konia last summer. On the top of the box was a “monkey bridge” like the one I took her to near Konia, and carved our initials in one of the trees. Sara LOVED the box, but didn’t realize the real present was actually on the inside. I encouraged her to open it, and when she did she saw that there were ten kola nuts inside. I think by this time she knew what was going on. In Liberia she learned that kola nuts are used as part of the first installment of a bride-price in traditional marriages. We joked there that if I wanted to marry her I would have to bring back some kola nuts. So she was pretty excited to see them in the box. I asked her if she had ever tried one before, and she said “no.” So I encouraged her to bite into one, and when she did what did she find inside but a sparkling diamond ring!
I then popped the question, “Sara Dean, will you marry me?” She said “Yes”! We hugged and kissed, and she cried a bit, then after basking a little while in the joy of the moment we went downstairs to announce our engagement to the family. Her mom was the first one she told, and there were more tears of joy, followed by a group hug. Her extended family started showing up, and the scene was repeated several times. It was definitely the best Christmas Eve ever for both of us!
Sara has been such a blessing to me and I love her with all my heart. She is the sweetest, kindest person you will ever meet. She loves God with all her heart, and is committed to serving Him. She has a great heart for missions and I can see a great future ahead of us as we follow God wherever He leads.
I am studying at The Graduate Institute of Applied Linguistics in Dallas, Texas now. It is tough, but good. I'll write more about the school later. Sara and I will be getting married on June 12th. We can hardly wait! Then we are looking to moving to South Carolina later in the summer if God opens the right doors. | | |
| Ever since I first became interested in the kora, I have wanted to visit the Gambia. It is the home of the kora, and has a well-developed traditional musical culture. Although Liberia is an interesting country in many ways, it is extremely lacking in terms of quality local music. I had some vacation time with Samaritan’s Purse, so I decided to take some time off in the Gambia.
After an unexpected delay from the airline, finally on the 3rd of this month I was able to leave for the Gambia.
Don't bother trying to stand up straight in this plane if you're over five feet tall!
I was going to stay in a town called Brikama, not far from the Senegal border. Gambia is a tiny county sectioned off by the British during the colonial era. Word has it that the borders were drawn based on the distance British gunships on the Gambia river could shoot their projectiles inland. Thus Gambia is a tiny enclave almost entirely surrounded by Senegal (a former French colony).
I arrived safe and sound and was met at the airport by the man who was going to be my kora teacher, Moriba Kuyateh.
Although I didn’t realize it at the time, Moriba also taught several other kora players in the US, whose websites were familiar to me. As I said, the Gambia is very small, so it did not take us long to arrive in Brikama. I was shown my room in Jobarteh Kunda, with its simple but livable accommodations. Most of the people who lived in the compound are musicians. The father of the compound is one Malamini Jobarteh, who is an elderly kora player with a distinguished career, playing in many international contexts.
The kora is traditionally used to accompany stories and songs about great men in Mandinka history, many of them warriors who spread the Islamic faith in that region of West Africa. I first started playing the kora about seven years ago. But not having a teacher, I was only able to progress so far. The kora is definately one of the most complicated stringed instruments in Africa. Most have twenty-one strings, although some have as many as twenty-five. Moriba’s kora, like my own, has twenty-two strings. The kora is especially difficult, because you play a bass and treble part simultaneously. It would be like playing lead and bass guitar at the same time. Thankfully Moriba is a patient teacher, and worked with me every day to learn a number of popular Mandinka songs. On two occasions we took public transportation to a fishing village called Gunjur, where Moriba had connections with the owners of a beach lodge. It was nice to get away from the noise and heat of Brikama and be at the beach playing the kora. So peaceful...
We also had a chance to travel into southern Senegal, which is called Cassamance. Moriba’s band was scheduled to play a show there, so we all boarded this rickety old bus and headed down a road which consisted of huge mud-holes sprinkled with occasional patches of road. The fun thing about this bus is that there are holes in the floor that let the muddy water from the potholes in!
We reached the border before long, and I had my passport stamped on the Gambia side. But there were no officers on the Senegal side to even look at my papers! Our destination was a popular tourist destination called Abene. After we arrived and the band started to set up, it began pouring rain; making the show impossible. The next day I was able to see a bit of the town and the beach before heading back to Brikama. You might pick up more than seashells on this beach!
Later on I was able to see Moriba’s band perform at a baby naming ceremony. The event is very important in the Mande culture, and takes place a week after birth. This is when the new baby is official presented to the community. If a family has money, it is a huge affair. At this particular event there were three musical acts playing, including an old man playing traditional songs on the kora, a young band from Guinea, and the main act; Moriba’s band. It was quite the party with lots of food, and dress clothes, and dancing.
The Mandinka people are one of the largest and most influential ethnic groups in the Gambia. They are distantly related to the Manya, whom I work with in Liberia. They both are the decedents of diaspora which occurred after the breakup of the medieval Malian empire. They share a common religion, and many cultural practices. Yet their languages have evolved in different directions. As a result now the languages are only about 60% similar; maybe comparable to the difference between Spanish and Portuguese. Although I am not fluent in Manya, I can speak it on a basic conversational level. But that did not help me much in the Gambia. In some ways it would have been easier if it were a totally different kind of language, because at least then I wouldn’t feel like I should understand more! Although the Gambia’s official language is English, practically speaking very few people speak it with any fluency. Children would frequently come up to me and with almost robotic voices asking, “What is your name? What is your surname?” which must be phrases they learned by rote in school. Yet when I tried to speak to them, they would look totally lost. Even other ethnic groups in the Gambia speak Mandinka as a lingua franka. It would be very difficult to work in the Gambia long-term without knowing the language. There are some WEC missionaries working there with the Mandinka. I was privileged to meet a couple from Finland who have been working for a number of years in the area of literacy and Bible translation. Since that is the kind of work I want to do in the future, it was great to talk with them and compare notes.
Interestingly, a number of Manya moved to the Gambia during the Liberian civil war. One day when I needed a hair-cut, Moriba introduced me to this barber who was originally from Voinjama! We had a great time chatting in Manya, and he was very interesting to hear recent news from his home town. Thankfully I brought with me a Manya God’s Story disk, and was able to give it to him before I left. He was very interested to see a video in his own language.
While I had a great time in the Gambia I was happy to return to Liberia. With all its shortcomings, Liberia really does feel like home to me. And while the Mandinka have a more developed musical culture than the Manya, I do feel a special burden and calling for the Manya. I pray that one day I will be able to use what I have learned on the kora, to share songs and stories with the Manya, praising the true and living God, and telling His Story.
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| If a Manya wants to access spirit world for power or protection, they often do so through shamans known as the molimen or kalanmo (lit. teachers). Sometimes in Liberia these men are referred to as “Sandcutters” because their preferred method of divination is spreading sand on the ground, drawing lines in it and then interpreting them. This in some ways similar how Ouiji boards are said to work. Most of these men also serve in an official capacity as imams, leading the regular prayers in the mosque.
The molimen have a number of techniques they use to harness spiritual powers. For protection, Koranic verses are written on scraps of paper and folded into little leather pouches called “lisimo”. These are commonly tied on the waists of children, or worn as a necklace.
A Muslim background believer here one told an interesting story about his experience with lisimo. As a teenager he was sent to Kuwait on an Islamic scholarship. While there he joined a local soccer league and played regularly. One day on the field he was injured and was rushed to the emergency room. When he arrived the doctors (most likely orthodox Muslims with no respect for such superstitious practices) immediately cut off his clothes with scissors. Along with the clothes they casually cut the rope for his lisimo and tossed the talisman in the trash. He said he was never so embarrassed in his life!
The molimen also write Arabic verses on wooden writing boards then wash them off with water. The water and ink are then ingested by their clients to provide blessing or protection. I was told that most Mandingo parents who send their boys to the madrassa (Koranic school) do not do so because they expect their children to master the content of the Koran intellectually. Rather they send them to the madrassa so they will one day become molimen, able to protect them against the curses of others, and provide temporal blessings for the family. The incomprehensible Arabic words of the Koran are believed to have great mystical power in themselves. They can even be used to protect one’s farm against malevolent spirits, as seen in the picture below.
I had an interesting conversation recently with a Manya man named Amarah who is one of our CHEs this year. He is a very influential man in this particular community. To the surprise of myself and the other trainers, he informed us that he had been a Christian for 18 years in the Episcopal Church. He attended the Bolahun Holy Cross Mission school, which was one of the best high schools in the region. He informed us that sometime before the war, he returned to his village and was living there. During this time he believes was cursed by someone in the village. For over a month he was very sick with dysentery, and could not even leave his house. Impressed by the power of the Islamic curses, Amarah returned to Islam saying, “It was God who made me change my religion again”. Obviously he had never had a personal relationship with Christ, but when I told me this story I was at a loss for words. I knew that my usual intellectual arguments for Christianity would mean nothing to him. I have been trained in “high religion” and have done a lot of study about the history and doctrines of Islam and know how to combat many of the common Muslim arguments against Christianity. Yet despite his good education this intellectual approach obviously means very little to Amarah. He did not convert to Islam for intellectual reasons, but rather because he was impressed by the mystical powers which can be accessed through Koranic incantations and charms.
The Manya seek power and protection from charms, talismans, and curses, (collectively called “medicine” in Liberia) but rarely do they question the source of this power. Another Manya friend of mine, whom I believed to have a more intellectual approach to the Muslim religion, informed me that his grandfather was a powerful moliman. During his time in Guinea, he was given a charm that protected him from bullets. He swears that this charm was tested by having a gun fired on him. He was unharmed, with the bullets simply bouncing off of him and dropping to the ground at his feet. A similar charm he says can protect your bare skin against a machete chop.
When I asked my friend where the power for this “bullet-proof” medicine comes from, he replied, “From God, I guess”. He actually considered the occult power available through the use of Koranic incantations to be proof of its divine origins! I questioned him further, reminding him that the zoes (traditional priests) of the animistic Poro society can access the same occultic power and protection with very similar “medicine”. He was not sure how to answer this. Nevertheless, even the molimen when they are giving consolations and preparing charms, will tell their clients “If God agrees, it will happen”. With their fatalistic worldview, ultimately God is responsible for any action good or bad, even if the act is accomplished through intermediary spirit beings.
While in the past I might have been very skeptical about such stories, the more time I spend in Africa and study the scriptures, the less reason I have to doubt them. Certainly the devil, as the “prince of this world” and his demons have been allowed a certain level of power in this time. It would be foolish to totally discount these accounts, or underestimate their significance in the lives of the people who have experienced such things.
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I started out out wanting to make two or three posts about reaching the Manya, once I started typing I quickly realized that I have a lot more material to discuss than can be covered in a few posts. Maybe one day I will write a book about this topic, but for now I'm sticking to Xanga.
Those of us who have been raised as Christians in the Western world for the most part have very distinct categories in our minds for the natural and the supernatural. God, Satan, angels, and demons exist, but on a very different plane of existence than our own. Practically speaking for most of us, their existence has little to do with the day to day occurrences in our lives. We are trained to interpret the events around us as having chiefly rationalistic causes, rather than spiritual.
For folk Muslims like the Manya on the other hand, there is no such separation between the spiritual and the material world. Practically everything has a spiritual cause. Sickness and accidents may be caused by the work of malevolent spirits or curses, or they may simply be the will of God. Last month, I came across a terrible motorbike accident. In a freak occurrence, the passenger’s foot had gotten stuck in the spokes of the back tire. His leg was broken badly, and the spokes had cut deeply into his heal. I remarked to someone in the crowd that I was surprised that such a thing could happen. His remark was typical of a folk Muslim, “It is just God’s will!” A car may be seriously overloaded and poorly maintained, but any accident that takes place will most likely not be attributed to negligence on the driver’s part, but rather God’s will.
In Islam, God is a very distant, unknowable, and impersonal being. He is the Sovereign Lord of Worlds and Law-Giver, but certainly not a Father who lovingly cares for his children on a personal level. Because God is so far away, those in need of help must access his power through a hierarchy of mediators. Folk Muslims find answers to their day to day problems through certain holy men who have direct access to the spirit world. Between God and mankind in the Manya’s worldview are a variety of spirit beings. These include Setana (Satan), the “jeena”, and the ancestor spirits.
The position of Satan is somewhat confusing in Islam, since God himself is not holy according to the Koran. “Allah leads astray whomsoever he wills.” (Sura 14:4) Satan is seen as an evil force, but the battle between good and evil is not as clearly defined in the Koran as in the Bible. The Koran states that Satan fell when he refused to bow down to Adam with the rest of the angels. In general, the existence of Satan is not of much concern to the typical Manya Muslim.
The “jeena” (from the Arabic jinn) are a species of spirit beings of much more immediate concern to the Manya. They occupy a position somewhere between the physical and the spiritual realm. They live in cotton trees, mountains, forests, rivers, or other locations and are able to manifest themselves in physical forms. Some also have the power to possess and indwell people. For the most part, they not regarded as being either good or evil. They are simply powerful, and their power can be possessed through certain incantations or sacrifices to either bless or curse someone. One such jeena is the “kumaden” or dwarf. These dwarfs appear in the form of a very short people, with the notable distinction of having feet that face backwards. A person may enter a relationship with such dwarf and obtain great wealth, although the sacrifice required may be as great as a human life.
Another variety of spirits in the Manya worldview are the ancestor spirits. These are the souls of the deceased who linger around the communities in which they live. They do not typically manifest themselves in physical forms, but may appear to their relatives in dreams. The ancestor spirits must be appeased with the proper sacrifices (salaka) to maintain harmony in the community. After a person dies, certain sacrifices must be offered forty days after the death to allow the spirit of the deceased to rest in peace. Offerings to the ancestor spirits may be as large as a sheep, or as small as a bowl of rice dust and kola nuts. An interesting thing about these sacrifices is that after the have been blessed with the proper Arabic prayer, they are divided among the community members and eaten. So rather than being a financial or material “loss” like the burnt offering of the Bible, the event is more like a community feast.
The issue of having a proper funeral is extremely important across Liberia. Believe it or not, for many professing Christians here, their primary reason for attending church is to ensure an elaborate funeral for themselves after they die. For the Manya, being buried according to Islamic custom is essential to having a having a better chance of being accepted into paradise. Apparently several months ago in Voinjama, the imam was speaking in the mosque against some of the Manya believers who are working with me. Although they were not obviously present in the mosque he told the congregation, “They should know that if they do not come back to Islam, we will not bury them when they die!” While I almost laughed when this news was reported to me, to many people in the mosque this warning undoubtedly served as a serious threat. How glad I am that I can be sure of my salvation in Christ, and that what happens to my body after death is irrelevant. I am happy to see that many of the Manya believers have come to this realization as well, as they have matured in their faith.
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