What Hasn't Happened

The last 2 months of production have been a blitz of shooting and travel. Meeting new people, hearing new stories, and shooting great footage. Certainly some great things have been happening, but as I look back on these weeks it's the events that haven't happened which amaze me. This is what hasn't happened:

I haven't been robbed.

I haven't gotten Malaria.

I haven't been too lost.

I haven't had any equipment fail.

I haven't run out of energy.

I haven't missed any flights.

I haven't been lonely.

I haven't run out of money.

I haven't been worried.

I haven't been injured.

I haven't been discouraged.

I haven't lost heart.

I haven't been attacked by bandits.

I haven't gotten on the wrong bus.

I often thank God for what I see Him doing, the actions He makes evident and visible. I have to ask myself the question, Is He present in these absent events, these “ haven't ”events? Do they bare His fingerprint in the same way as the visible actions?

This past week I got to go rock climbing. Not true sport climbing, just low bouldering, since I was going on my own. Beneath the light house of Dakar are sandstone cliffs meeting the crashing of the Atlantic to form some of the most interesting rock formations I've ever seen. Each day for the past week I've been scrambling around on the rocks, cleaning off sand and salt left by the waves to make some simple bouldering routes. On my last day, as I reached the top of one of these routes, about 10 feet up, I flexed my legs to stand up and prepare to climb back down. As I pulled with my arms and pushed with my legs the rock I was holding snapped, sheering off the cliff face. I spun mid-air to try and land on my feet as best I could, but the landing area was uneven rock covered in thin layers of sand and salt leading down another 15 feet to the water and the sharper rocks that the waves had carved. My feet slid out from underneath me, but I was able to scramble and catch myself with only mild scratches to my lefts and hands. I brushed my self off and kept climbing.

It wasn't until later that I realized the precariousness of that situation. It could have been much worse. I could have hit my head and slid into the water or broken a leg been stranded alone with no way to get back to help. But that didn't happen.

At different times in my travels people have give me warnings to help prepare me for the risks and probabilities. Get insurance for When, not if, you have something stolen. Learn the signs of Malaria, so you can diagnose it When you get it. Double check your itineraries and show up early because flights get cancelled all the time. Be ready for, fill in the blank, because that's just life here. I think you get the picture. The list of “haven't happened” may seem a bit far fetched in the US but for those I work with in West Africa they are inevitable realities. But they haven't happened to me, and certainly not because of my awesome vigilance and preparations. These things are as out of my control as a rock breaking away from the cliff in my hands.

Production Re-Cap - IBB

Families are living and learning together at IBB.

The last few months I've been on a production blitz shooting 8 different videos in 3 different countries. It's been awesome and looking at the images captured gets me excited to finish these videos and share these stories.

One of the pieces that I'm excited about is the video shot at IBB (Institute Biblique de Bethel) in Korhogo, Cote d'Ivoire. IBB is a Seminary for Pastors and church leaders. They focus on holistic education knowing that the entire life of the pastor and his family is used by God to minister in their communities. I've shared a few frame grabs from the raw video on Facebook so check 'em out.

Now the task is to take the 8+ hours of footage captured and turn that into a 5 minute story. If that sounds like a lot of work, it is. Not only that, but we are producing this video in 2 version, English and French, adding translation to the already heavy load.

That's why I'm glad to be working with Jeff Frazee, another WV missionary in Mali. Jeff is a trained photo Journalist and is working with an award winning drama team in Mali to help them learn how to take their 300 scripted radio dramas and turn them into video content. Jeff and this team are going to be editing these videos, giving them a real project to work and learn on. Its another unexpected and exciting outcome of the project. This story of how Pastors are being trained to impact and change their churches and communities in Cote d'Ivoire, is impacting the Drama team in Mali as they learn to produce their own videos.

That's what this project is all about. Telling stories of Change to create Change.

Production Daze

I'm starting to settle into a routine, well as much of a routine as can be had. Traveling in Africa always has its own challenges and living here also brings new adventures my way all the time. Production, even in the best of cases, is a constant state of shifting schedules, running to catch something happening only once, or just waiting for people to show up. So when I say routine that doesn't look like your normal 9-5. Most days look something like this.

6:00 am - Wake up and head immediately to the shower or bucket bath in some cases. Night-time temperatures are still in the 90's so even in sleep you can work up quite a sweat.

6:30 am – Make coffee and breakfast. Thanks to friends and family I have a supply of coffee so that in any situation I can figure out how to start my day with a cup of joe.

7:00 am – Producers Meeting. This is what I've come to call my morning devotions. It's a time when I, the producer, can connect with my “Executive Producer.”

8:30 am – Start work. This often begins with reviewing the schedule for the day. If nothings planned to be shot I'll look at the current projects in Pre, Production, and Post and make sure everything is on track.

9:00 am – Dig In. The mornings are usually the most productive for me. So I try to schedule most of my shoots in the morning, when it isn't so hot (ie. less than 110 F). If I'm not shooting, I'll dig into editing. I try to focus and spend the next 4 hours shooting or editing until lunch.

1:00 pm – Break Time. With the temperatures rising and my focus dwindling, I take a break to eat lunch. This is the hottest time of the day, the perfect time to take a nap and just lie in front of a fan.

2:30 pm – Back at It. Depending on how productive I was in the morning, I may continue what I was working on in the morning. Often though, the afternoons are given to Pre-Production. This means writing treatments, scheduling shoots for the coming weeks, making travel arrangements, or doing emails if I can get internet where I am.

6:30 pm – Clock Out. To stay on schedule with all my productions and to keep me sane, I'm finding it helpful to put in 8 hours of focused work and call it a day.

7:00 pm – What's for Dinner? This always looks different. Sometimes it is eating with the people I'm working with or making my own food. I'll share soon some of my successes and failures, in a future blog.

8:30 pm – Decompress. The amount of stress that can build up in this lifestyle of travel, work, adventure and uncertainty is pretty up there. All work and no play makes Drew very irritable. Evenings are split between reading (I'll read about 1000 pages per month), playing games (with others if they are around or on my ipad), or exercising (right now I'm prepping for a climbing trip in May).

10:00 pm – Shower Again. It's a habit I picked up while living in Brobo, but now that it's “Hot Season” it's essential to shower again before bed to get rid of the build up dust and sweat from the day.

11:00 pm – Sweet Dreams. It's nice heading to bed tired from the day and feeling like a lot was accomplished. Don't believe me try it some day.

That's the schedule I shoot for, but as the saying goes, “Tout vas changer!” (Everything will change!)

Riding the Bus – Why Me?

On April 27^th, I boarded a bus to travel from Bouake, Cote d'Ivoire to Zegou, Mali. I had been told that the trip should take from 6-8 hours.

At the suggestion of friends, I bought my ticket the day before and arrived at the station a half hour before the scheduled departure of 8:30 am. Being the only “Toobab” (white guy) in the station, I was quickly called out by a man, who I can only describe as the “Conductor.” He was wearing jeans and I Cote d'Ivoire jersy, but despite the lack of uniform this guy made made everything happen. He showed me wear to wait and when it came time to load the bus got my two bags loaded in safe spot. If anyone had questions they went to him and got it sorted out quickly.

Around 9:15, they started loading people onto the bus by calling out the names of each passenger according to the seat number they had purchased. My name is a little hard to pronounce in French so they called something like this, “Ace Jrui.” When I took my assigned seat, #33, in the middle of the bus, they moved me up to “first class.” By first class I mean the front of the bus where I could at least stretch out my legs and get some breeze to help cool things down.

We were under way by 9:45. For the next 2 hours we moved along consistently all be it slowly, stopping only once to let people out and for the engine to cool. As we came into Niakara and stopped at a security check point, the driver couldn't get the bus into first or second gear. He managed to get the bus moving again using 3^rd, but when we stopped for “lunch” they tried to work out the problem. At every stop of the bus, vendors swarm to sell water, bananas, peanuts, cakes, fruit, and all sorts of “fast food.” For about 500 CFA ($1), I bought peanuts and bananas, which I shared with my seat mate.

Around 1 pm, we started down the road again, but the engine was still having trouble in 1^st and 2^nd gear. We stopped once again, when steam started pouring out from under one of the passengers seats, where apparently the radiator cap had come loose. After refilling the radiator, we moved on. At 4 pm we pulled into Ferke, a trip which usually takes about 5 hours by car.

Once we were underway again, I called my friends in Mali who were going to pick me up and updated them on the situation. They let me know that because the bandits in their area had recently been very active, it wasn't safe for them to be traveling at night so if I arrived after dark, a Malian friend of theirs had offered to come pick me up. They also said that it should take 2 about hours to get from Ferke to Zegoua.

The bus continued to struggle along, stopping twice over the next 2 hours to refill the radiator or mend something. Around 6 pm we pulled over again in Nielle. As I got out with everyone to stretch my legs, I looked under the bus and could see oil pouring out of the engine. Not dripping, but pouring. For the next hour the driver, the mechanic that was traveling with us, and several other people worked on the engine. The driver told me that they had called ahead to Zeguoa to send them the part that they needed and once they found it would send it down to us.

With no estimate on how long that might take, I bought dinner. After finishing my spaghetti sandwich, I settled down to wait with everyone else. I talked with a lady from northern Mali, about the war and how it had affected life there. I chatted with a Senegalese guy who was on a tour of West Africa and had come from Nigeria to Ghana to Abidjan and was heading to Senegal.

Around 9:30 pm, I noticed that people were unloading the luggage from the bus. I asked the driver about this and he told me that the bus company was sending a new bus down. A half hour later the bus arrived, and everyone set to packing the bus. I got my luggage in and then helped a older lady load boxes of what I think were batteries under her seat.

With everything loaded and all the people in their new places on the bus, I again had been able to snag a prime spot in the front, the new driver got in and made an announcement. I don't know what he said, because he didn't speak in French, but one of the local African trade languages. Assuming it was just an explanation for the delay or instruction for the boarder, I settled in for the rest of the journey. As soon as we got back on the main road though, we turned left off of the road and started into the center of Nielle. I turned to the guy next to me and asked, “Umm, Where are we going?” He didn't speak very good french, but was able to get some else to explain that the main road was closed ahead because of bandits. We would be spending the night in Nielle and then continue on the rest of the way in the morning. It was at this point I found out that Nielle is 25 kilometers from Zegoua.

The bus stopped next to a couple of trucks which were parked in the center of town and every one started spreading out for the night. I asked around about a possible hotel or some place to stay, and the lady who I help load her boxes onto the bus said that there weren't any hotels in town but I could just sleep on the porch of the mosque along with everyone else. So I did. Or at least I tried to. Sleeping on a dirty concrete floor with mosquitos biting you and waking up every time some walks by doesn't really lead to deep sleep. It wasn't until the next morning that I fully realized what sleeping in a Mosque meant. At 4:45 am, I was woken up by the call to prayer. I've grown used to hearing this call made in the distance from somewhere, but this morning I heard it right next to my ear.

Eventually, everyone woke up and after getting some breakfast from a local coffee shop (think wooden lemonade stand with a coffee machine) we headed down the road. Less than 15 minutes later we were at the Cote d'Ivoire Mali border. There are 4 stops in this 2 kilometer section, 2 customs offices and 2 immigration offices. One each for leaving Cote d' Ivoire and entering Mali. At each stop, we gave our documents to an officer who depending on our type of visa pointed us to a different line. Because I was one of the only passport carriers my line was pretty short and got through all stops quickly and easily.

At the final stop, Mali customs, I asked the driver to get my bags out from under the bus since this was my stop. After digging them out from one of the inside compartments, I carried my bags over to an official who looked them over and quickly waved me on.

I met my friends who were waiting for me and we got into their car. I had made it to Zegou and my bus trip had come to an end. It was 10:30 am April 28^th. The bus trip which was supposed to take 6-8 hours had taken 27 hours.

Through out the course of this trip a question kept rising to my mind. “Why me? God, Why is this happening to me? Out of all the people in the world you picked me? Why are you making this happen to me? Why do you keep giving me stuff like this?” (You might want to re-read that, but this time replace the sarcasm and bitterness with genuine gratitude.)

God continues to give me amazing experiences and the grace to see things His way, to see events that might be considered problems or errors as gifts. I mean really how many people can say the've slept in a mosque?

Then and Now

 Is failure an option? Can I really go back and just be ordinary? Can I settle now that I've gotten a glimpse of what it could be like, now that I've started to smell the aroma coming down the mountain? I am tired. I am scared. I am confused and I know I have so much farther to go. It will get darker. It will be more frightening. But if I give up and turn back now? Can I give up on this dream? The vision God gave me? Can I quit?

I will fail. I can't quit. I will try. I will push onward into my fears all the time crying,

“Lord Jesus save me.”

One year ago, I wrote those words. I had set a deadline to have all the funding necessary for this project. February 28^th 2012. I didn't meet that goal and so these words were penned in the failure of my goal and what looked like to me the end of the line.

Today, I read those words from an entirely different place. I know that that only a few days after penning those words, I would be invited to start the project filming in Guinea and that despite my apparent lack of funding I would travel to Cote d'Ivoire in September. 

So far this project has been a great success. Videos are being produced, shot, and edited. Stories are being told. Today, I am living the dream and continually find myself looking at my life and saying, “My life is awesome.” But reading those words of fear and failure, reminds me that the they still ring true. So today I say:

I have succeeded, but is failure far away? Can I still mess this up? Can I settle into an easy way of doing things, now that I've started up the mountain? I am tired. I am scared. I am confused and I know I have so much farther to go. It will get darker. It will be more frightening. But if I give up and turn back now? Can I give up on this dream? This vision that God gave me? Can I quit?

I will succeed. I can't quit. I will continue. I will push onward into my fears all the time crying,

“Lord Jesus save me.”

Je suis un conteur.

Most of the stories I tell aren't my own. I tell other peoples stories. I try to do them right, to show the heart of that person, To go deeper than just the physical, deeper than just what can be seen on the surface. I try to dig into their story and understand the story from their point of view, to see where the importance lies for them.

Sometimes this is easy. Most times it's not. It takes time and trust for people to open up that way. It takes patience on my part to accept the answers people give to my questions. It takes perseverance to keep asking questions until I find the way into the story. It takes gentleness to hold back from digging deeper when the nerves of pain are exposed. It takes wisdom to know how to view pain in a person and the triumph. It takes discretion to know how to leave a line of questioning before I cause more pain and harm.

Sometimes I come across a story that moves me. More realistically, it grabs me by the throat and demands that I change. I heard a story like that this past week. A story of war, pain, survival, death and new life, hatred and forgiveness, the evil of man pitted against the grace of God. I think how can I tell a story like this? Just one of those subjects is worthy of the most skilled treatment and careful exploration to reveal the deeper truths within. But to tell all of them wrapped up into one? Impossible.

Stories like that force me to change. The force me to see myself as I am, to remember that I am unable to tell stories. I lack the ability to dig into a persons story and tell its truth. I don't have the patience, perseverance, gentleness, wisdom, and discretion that these stories demand. And yet stories are being told. Despite my inability these stories of change are changing people.

And that's my story. I am the story-teller who couldn't tell stories but did anyway. I tell stories of change because these stories have changed me.

New Projects, Problems, and Plans - February Newsletter

What a great start to the Year! The last 6 weeks have been a blitz of production. Traveling to 4 different cities in Cote d'Ivoire where I was able to shoot for 6 different projects. The project is well underway and it's fantastic to be able to start sharing these amazing stories.

One new story I'm very excited to share, is a little of mine. For 3 months this past year, I lived in Brobo. A little city of about 2000 people located about 24 miles east of Bouake. The people there welcomed me into their homes and their lives. While living there we worked together to produce this short film so that everyone can learn what I did. Brobo is the Best!

Problems

Right now there are 20 projects at differing stages of production, from preliminary requests to videos waiting for their internet debut. Each of those projects has their own problems. In pre-production it often is scheduling and figuring out where I need to be when and how to get me there. While in production the barrier of language and trying to get to understand what is need to capture the story can be exhausting. When it's all done I have to try and find a strong enough internet connection so that the final video can be uploaded. A strong connection is anything over 20 kbps.

As I said in the last newsletter, this project is bigger than me. It's that perspective that keeps me moving forward. Problems come quickly, but the solutions are never far behind. Exhaustion and fatigue are as constant as the heat. But each time I start to feel week, encouragement comes like a fresh breeze in the shade. In the little moments between all the business, someone gives an encouraging word, reminds me why this is so important, lifts my head to realize, “I live in Africa. I make movies in Africa. My life is awesome!”

Plans

I'm learning that making plans in Africa, especially concerning travel, is an on going and continuous process. If the plan hasn't changed 5 times yet, then you probably don't have plan. After getting lots of feedback and advice from colleagues, locals, and experts this is what the next couple of months might look like for me.

March 1-10 Mali

March 11 – April 6 Guinea

April 6 – May 10 Senegal

May 10 – May 31 USA

June 1 – 27 Cote d'Ivoire

Many of the details are still up in the air but that is part of the process. I'm very excited about the opportunities to travel to new countries such as Mali and Senegal and start telling the stories in those locations. For those of you watching the news, I will only be traveling in the south of Mali where things are stable and secure.

I'm extremely excited to be able to travel back to the US of A for a good friends wedding and while I'm there want to see as many friends and family as possible. So if you want to try and make something happen during those weeks send me an email and we'll make something happen.

This is just the begging of this project and already we are seeing great results as people view and share these stories. I can't wait to see what else happens as we continue to work together.  Thank you for your continued support and involvement with me and this project.

Your Fellow Servant,
Drew