MISSIONARY LIFE

Personal

Growing up as a missionaries' daughter was an unusual experience, although I didn't realize it at the time.  There were happy as well as sad times, and many, many learning opportunities.

A party at Gutowski's house          Melodie (6), Lisa (5), Sandy (8)  

We were privileged to live in a large house by African standards; a two-bedroom stone bungalow with a built-in bathroom and a cement floor instead of the traditional adobe (mud mixed with manure or straw).  Initially, the kitchen was a separate building from the main house, and my friend James the Cook presided there over the massive wood stove.  There were other workers to help us out with carpentry, gardening and laundry, which all had to be done by hand.  

Gutowski's stone bungalow

In fact, everything had to be done by hand.  Mom made everything from scratch:  bread, coffee, peanut butter, dairy products, clothes.  She also taught us kids and managed a huge garden which included a corn field.  Mom would purchase the weekly beef at market, keeping it through the week.  She imported chickens so we could enjoy eggs and poultry.  Dad would supplement our meat supply by taking a rifle along on his weekly clinics to outlying villages, since game often came his way.

Pastor Tim and Minnie feast on termites

We all learned to enjoy African tidbits like roasted or raw termites, birds and bats, ground squirrels, locusts, caterpillars, bee grubs, and wild plants, along with staples such as cassava root, cornmeal fufu, palm oil chop, yams, and cooked peanuts.  Tropical fruit was plentiful: avocado pears, pineapples, mangos, bananas, plantains and guavas.  

Sandy (1) with monkey

I never saw apples except at Christmas, when a kind soul would send us a boxful. What a treat!

Barb and her stamps  

We did not have a television.  Time was taken up by school, work, games and hobbies.  We visited with friends regularly, having fun singing and worshipping God together.  There were plenty of good times:  weddings, church events, choir competitions, and community gatherings for holidays.  I can remember people using any excuse for a party and a dance:  there would be two rings on the lawn afterwards from a circle each of male and female dancers, dancing long into the night to the beat of African drums.                  

 Zebulon & Kathy's engagement

Us kids had many diversions.  I recall racing through my schoolwork while outside waited my African friends.  We'd run around barefoot, chasing small game, or playing soccer, or hiking the surrounding hills.  This was more perilous than we realized, for my Dad had spotted some lion cubs on one Sunday afternoon stroll. Reports came too of leopards, venomous snakes, and rabid wild dogs.  I remember encountering African "killer" bees, tarantulas, venomous snakes, scorpions, and many others. Life was an adventure.

Sandy (4) feeding monkey       Spirit, Victor and Sandy

Of course, it was not utopia.  The suffering of the people was striking--even my friends were malnourished.  Everyone worked very hard.  It was also hard for the missionaries to be away from North American family and friends for such long periods of time.  Money was always a bit short--we really were poor, by North American standards.  Something always needed fixing, and living in the tropics presented special problems like termites eating furniture, driver ants eating the chickens, and weevils in the cereal.  But undeniably, the consensus was that God looked after us in very special ways, whatever our need was. He was there.

images courtesy of Dr. W.D. Gutowski, MD.

created by C.L. Van Eysinga 1997, 2004.

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