Pestilence and midday strikes

"Do not dread the pestilence that stalks in the darkness, nor the disaster that strikes at midday." (Psalm 91:6)

You know, sometimes scriptures come to mind in situations and you feel all warm and fuzzy inside. This past weekend I was a little too warm, and saw a little too much fuzzy. Here's the story:
Our ECWA Camp Youth Alive(ECYA, love the acronyms) office was asked to come speak/present at the ECWA National Youth Conference in Billiri, Gombe State, about 4 hours from Jos. We made arrangements to stay with Sam, a camp staff nearby and made the trek Friday afternoon. Once we left the plateau, the temperature jumped at least 15 degrees, and by the time we reached Gombe, my clothes were fairly saturated with sweat. Traveling, especially driving, tuckers you out so by 9pm I excused myself to my room. I was really grateful that Sam's cousin, Comfort, gave up her bed and room for me because I was altogether prepared to sleep on the floor. Instead, I plopped down on the bed to write a little letter to my dear Andrew, read, and hopefully, fall asleep. 2 out of the 3 happend. About 15 mins into writing, I hear some noises behind the headboard of the bed. There's always noises in Nigeria, so I didn't think too much of it. 5 mins later, I catch some movement out of the corner of my eye. I direct my headlamp in its direction and spotlight a little vermin! I don't shriek out loud, just write my surprise on the paper. Rationally, I tell myself , "René, 1)it's probably just a mouse searching for food 2)you've slept plenty of nights in the company of mice when you hiked the AT 3) it's not going to bother you 4) don't freak out." Thus, I go back to writing. Maybe 10 mins later, what was a few, faint, little scratching noises has become major construction work under the headboard and I've detected numerous critters running along the wall. I consider calling someone in, but really, what are they going to do? Around 10, Comfort comes in to get something and I say, "Hey Comfort, do you know there are mice in here?" She didn't understand me so I made little gestures and noises and said, "Bera?" (= rat). Then she got it and just laughed and went back out of the room. I'm thinking, "You're name's "Comfort"...couldn't you have given me a little more than a laugh?!?" Well, I resolve to just put some headphones in and read till I fall asleep. This plan seemed to be working until some wretched cacophony broke out and I shot up in bed with a little yelp. It sounded like cats fighting to the death...all under my headboard. All I have to say is, good thing I already went to the bathroom or else I would have had another issue to deal with. From that point on, my nerves were shot and peace had evaporated. The copious rodents were now in full force, scurrying from the bed, over plastic bags, in and out of boxes, to this desk drawer, then back to headquarters in the headboard. They also enjoyed climbing up these wooden blinds at the window at the foot of the bed. Basically, I was surrounded. Talk about "pestilence that stalks in the darkness"! When a respite from the activity occurred, I then became aware of the mosquitoes tagging me. No net and no sheet and my body was already slick with sweat. (I had brought pj pants to sleep in, but they were covered in the soap that spilled in my bag.) I grab the skirt I had worn that day and attempt to position it over my legs so no juicy bits of flesh are hanging out begging a mosquito to dine. I attempted to continue to read to take my mind off it, but my headlamp battery was draining. So now you have the picture in your head: laying in a hot room, perpetually perspiring, swatting blindly at the buzzing near my ears, jumping at each raucous that seems all to close to me, and just praying for the hours to pass quickly. I finished off a bottle of water and used the container as a weapon poised to defend myself should any perpetrators attempt to invade the bed. I'm 93% sure they never did, but at one point I thought I felt something graze my feet...or course, I was pretty delusional by that point. Around 4am, I decided this would have to be a blog and knowing that this post would be 10x better with a picture, Operation Rat Picture began. A little difficult since it was dark and these guys were fast. Alas, I won.

Note the size of this dude using my shoes as a frame of reference. They weren't cute little field mice. Seriously, the legion made noise the ENTIRE night, right up until 6:30am when everyone in the house was up and moving about. At 5am, the Muslim's call to worship from the mosque began and I'm pretty sure one of the speakers was right outside the window. Of course, since I was still wide awake, I wasn't nearly as perturbed as my colleague. When I was greeted with the standard, "Ina kwana?" (=how did you spend the night) I said, "I know I'm supposed to say, 'lafiya' (=fine), but that would be lying."
Fortunately, the Lord granted me the strength to stay awake throughout Saturday. Once again, when I arrived I was ushered to special cushy seats in front. This conference was HUGE. With Nigeria being the most country in Africa (over 140 million) I should have expected a national youth conference to be highly attended. There were over 100,000 people there. That's a LOT of people...and a new record for me-only white person in the crowd. In addition to a special seat and lots of stares, random people also came up and took pictures and video footage of me sitting there, squinting in the sun. I don't even want to know what it's used for. ("Hey Joe! Look at this picture of my new wife! She's going to get me to America.") After a few hours of sha rana ("drinking the sun") ECYA was finally given a chance to speak. A whopping 5 mins. Thing is, because of my white skin, I could have gotten up there and only said, "ECWA CAMP YOUTH ALIVE" and it would have been as effective as talking for an hour.
In fact, I'm learning to switch to Nigerian English so audiences can understand me. Give me a call sometime and I'll give you a taste of it:) By the time we left, I was a wee bit sun-burned and terribly dehydrated. Or you could say, I had been struck by the "midday disaster." Have I completely butchered that Scripture? Actually, it seems altogether possible to me that the psalmist dealt with rodents at night and blistering sun during the day. And though I seemingly just wrote a tome of complaint, I can say with utter gratitude that the Lord protected us, both at night and on the roads, and strengthened us to effectively share about ECYA to youth who'd otherwise not hear. Who knows, perhaps one day we'll hold a camp in a remote part of Nigeria and lives will be changed because someone heard this baturiya talk for 5 mins in Billiri.
Allah ya kai mu = "May God take us"