Christian Radio Comes to Chad

Thank you for your prayers for my recent trip. Out here electrical power is sporadic even in the large cities so I installed the equipment needed to run the station from alternate energy sources, being solar and wind power. It was a great success and privilege to minister in this way. Only one of the new pieces did not function but it will be replaced under warranty. In spite of this we were able to test the station's output and it reached successfully all the villages targeted. I have attached a few pictures to help you visualise things. I trust this will encourage you as you have played a vital role in this ministry. We now await the arrival of a program director, Lord willing in November. You can pray that the Lord will supply his needs. He is Romanian and has been highly recommended to us from an experienced missionary. He will be coming for 2 years to train some nationals to run the radio programs themselves. The following account of my trip is for your enjoyment and to put a little meat on the outline given above. It is a little long but I hope you enjoy it.

It began on a hot Sunday afternoon that we had decided to leave. The timing was close as my co-worker had previously been scheduled to be involved in communion at church that Sunday. I had told him to arrive between 2 and 2:30 but as 2pm passed I was unsure if he would arrive in time as we had a 3+ hr trip before sunset. Chadians often arrive hours after schedule, as time is not part of their culture. I was counting on him though as he has worked for us for many years as well as knowing the deadline. We had originally planned to take the shortest route but upon his arrival changed our mind as that would have taken us through many kms of heavy sand with our already laden motorcycles. Though the new route was longer by at least 60kms we calculated it to take less time as the first half to Kélo was paved and the second part (Kélo-Lai) was reported to have been recently graded. The trip began well in spite of the 43°C wind blowing in our faces. Adoum (my co-worker) had recently overhauled his 1970's Honda-125 in anticipation of this trip and it performed well enough for us to keep up a good pace; 70km/hr. It was not long though before we realised that it was God's providence that our change in plans took us through a couple of more established villages. After about 30km, I noticed that his rear tire was loosing air in spite of the new inner tube he had installed. I signalled him and we pulled over to pump it up. This did not take long as one always keeps a pump accessible when making bush trips. We resumed out trip but in about 10km we were repeating the same scenario. We knew we would not make Lai by nightfall if we continued this so planned to stop at the next large village (Krim-Krim) to purchase another tube. Patching would take as longer than exchanging it and we had no desire to make the whole trip on a weak inner tube. After 3 more roadside inflations we arrived in Krim-Krim and located a local motorcycle parts vendor. It was not long before we had a crowd of curious onlookers. They were even more thrilled when the nas-ra (white-guy; literally, one who is able) got his hands dirty helping with the hot parts and freshly greased drive chain.

As we worked together it was interesting to understand some of the discussions about us. These however turned to chuckles of pleasure and mild embarrassment when I switched my conversation with Adoum to the local language, causing them to realise I too understood them. After about half an hour or so we were on our way. I gave the onlookers somewhat of a show as I left by doing a wheel stand in first and second gear due to my miscalculation of the load I had on back. We made a quick stop in Kélo (the end of the pavement for our trip) to connect with our missionaries there.(the Grays) One always stops at every mission station as this is how we get mail, messages, parcels etc. from place to place. (It is only recently that semi-reliable mail has been restored to major centres in some 15 yrs.) We were now one and a half hours behind schedule. We evaluated our options while enjoying a warm (in more ways than one) welcome and a cool drink of water. We decided to press on in spite of the hour and would camp by the road if needs be. The next segment was good graded road for the most part but the villages were a challenge they were not used to traffic (two motorcycles together). As I was in second place there was more than one goat or pig that I caused to accelerate at unusual speeds, even some people for that matter. This could have been dangerous but God is our protector and I believe there was one pig that God almost caused to fly on my behalf.

As dusk (and dust) settled in, that hour when headlights still don't make much of an impression, the task became more of a challenge. I tried to keep close enough behind Adoum so as not to loose sight of him while not consuming too much of his dust. Once night fell this task actually became somewhat easier except for being able to anticipate the type of terrain we were crossing. Small patches of sand tended to catch one by surprise. One also is no longer able to see the clouds of dust that are coating ones being and lining the walls of one's trachea. Before we realised it we were approaching the river that separated us from our destination. We realised that the barge would have been tied up for the night, which left us to seek out an alternative crossing. The small bridges in the dike that traverses the flood plane proved to hone our skills of balance. These are small bridges consisting of two steel rails on which cross-timbers are placed and, when new, had planks tying them together. Now, however, only these cross-timbers remained and were loose. A description is inadequate; you will have to look at the picture to know what I am talking about.

Upon arriving at the river we inquired if there were any pirogues (large carved wooden canoes) still crossing at that hour. After surveying our laden motorcycles one gentleman began lamenting he had not borrowed his uncle's big pirogue, as his was inadequate. I noticed some lights on the other side of the river and began signalling with my mini-maglite in hopes that they might realise someone wanted to cross. After discussing things at length and having given up all but hope we were told that if we went down the riverbank a piece we would be met by someone. We proceeded to the next place where the bank of the river permitted us an approach. The night was quite dark as there was no moon but after some time the stars that pierced the firmament above allowed one to make out a few shapes. After waiting for some time a shadow appeared along the shore inquiring if we had motorcycles and wished to cross. We thanked him and accepted his offer to cross us. Crossing in a pirogue with a motorcycle is an experience I had only witnessed before but never experienced. We then unloaded our motorcycles and lifted each one into the slippery-bottomed pirogue. Each motorcycle must lean to opposite sides keep the balance. Upon loading our baggage and bodies we surveyed the shore with our flashlight to make sure we had not left anything behind, especially our socks or shoes that had been removed when loading the bikes in the knee deep water. We were set and had 10cm to spare between the waterline and the top edge of the pirogue. As the helmsman began to pole the pirogue across the river and the boat began its rhythmic dip from side to side with the effort. He informed us that we must take a somewhat longer path than usual as hippos often lay between our destination and us. The darkness of the night was somewhat disorienting to me on the water and I was sure we were not headed in the right direction. By trailing my hands in the water however I was reassured that we were on the right course.

It was now after 8pm but I was confident and glad that we were going to reach our planned destination. God had been good and kept us thus far. We soon reached the other side after a very peaceful and enjoyably cool ride. We unloaded and paid the owner a little extra for his night crossing. He was very happy and helped us to load our belongings on our motorcycles. As we both were very wet from the knee down we decided to do the last kilometre bare foot. Adoum's bike started nicely but mine had other thoughts. After trying to kick-start it several times in my bare feet I reluctantly put on my right boot. The coolness of the river crossing was soon lost as sweat poured down from absolutely every part of my body... What could be wrong? I tried everything possible; my bike was in good shape, what could possibly be wrong? Did I have to push it the rest of the way; did I have water in the motor; did I have major repairs to do in the morning? In a couple of minutes I was very humbled (and relieved) to discover that during the crossing the safety switch for the motor had inadvertently been turned off. When we arrived at the mission station in Lai (our destination) we discovered that the missionary (L. Green) was not home and had gone out, as we had not arrived on time. We soon found her though and were given access to running water for a shower and clean beds had been prepared for us under the stars. We shared the evening meal with the security guard. I am not sure if it was my hunger, or the long trip, but it was the best rice boule (thick hot rice pudding, eaten with one's hands and dipped in a meat sauce) I have ever tasted. Even though we ate without as much as candle light, the dark form of my black host was quite distinguishable by starlight. We enjoyed telling of our voyage and heard of his latest family news before retiring. After arranging how we would proceed in the morning (and removing my rather large 8 legged welcome from under my pillow) we lay down for a good nights rest. It was only minutes before I heard Adoum had reached his place of rest. I noted Orion's position so that if I woke in the night I could tell how much of the night remained.

As the sky began to turn grey a cool lick on my hand from the station puppy awoke me. I greeted him fondly and he responded in kind. After a few moments I noticed Adoum stirring and we woke to begin a new day. We knew we had at about 3 hrs ahead of us and we wanted to get an early start as it was cooler and we were being counted on for a day’s work after arriving. A technician from Galcom Canada and a family from the US had already been there for a few weeks erecting the 100ft free-standing tower and were ready about ready for us to supply the power they would need to test the transmitter. We gracefully turned down a morning coffee and the missionary told us that a few villages down the road the Arabs had shai (sweet black tea) and beignets one could buy. She had several kilos of capitan (a very tasty large fish found in the local rivers) for us to take to the missionaries in Tchageen (Mark & Dianne Vanderkooi). We wrapped it in several layers of a paper cement bag to keep it from thawing too fast. We set out just as the first people were beginning to move; one could make the out shadowy shapes as they left their yards to get things ready for their families. The air was cool though the small flies were attracted to our headlights and ultimately to our faces. We each succeeded in only having one incident of the critters getting trapped in our eyes; it was too early for sunglasses and our face shields too scratched for early morning use. We soon reached the village where we were to turn north from the dirt road onto the old dike left over from a rice project in the ‘60s.

The path wandered between the good parts on the dike and the fields below. The fields were well travelled and were 10cm deep with flour like powder. Upon hitting the first patch of this I quickly hit the brakes, distancing myself from Adoum as he disappeared into a huge cloud of dust. The front wheel caused clumps of the dust to pelt my feet as if I was dragging them through the powder itself. Maintaining a distance of less than 500m was choking. I was very thankful that most of this was over in about 5km. We soon came upon the village where we were to acquire our breakfast but it was too early and we were not really hungry yet anyway so we decided to continue on and take our chances with what some other villages might offer. I had a couple pockets filled with peanuts and granola if we really got the munchies. For the next two hours we wound our way along the trails without much ado. There were many trails through the open plains but most paralleled each other so finding our way was not too difficult. The trails were mostly due north except to connect the odd village that dotted the plains. After the last major village (Derressia) we came upon some quite sandy trails and soon into this my engine began to knock. I presumed that it was just getting hot from the extra work but alas, before I realised the problem and could switch over to the reserve portion of my gas tank, the engine stalled from lack of fuel. I hauled the bike off the trail and onto firmer ground and decided to take the opportunity to add fuel rather than switch to reserve as I was already stopped. My bike being bigger I would soon be able to catch up Adoum. While refuelling I was passed by a couple of nomadic merchants on old British 28 inch bicycles. Each laded down with their wares for sale. We greeted each other and one, rather than returning my "Bonjour" eked out a fairly clear "Goode mor-rning" I returned his greeting and wished him a safe journey.

I was soon on my way and waved to them as I once again passed them. Much to my dismay I soon came upon a fork in the road. Which one had Adoum taken? They likely paralleled each other but what if he doubled back to find me? Ah yes, we had brought along small 2-way radios, he couldn't be too far. I called him but it was in vain. The airwaves were silent. Meanwhile I studied the tracks and decided he had taken the right (and most obvious) one but soon the track I was following disappeared. I doubled back and took the left one but 250m later it also split into two distinct trails. Once again I studied the tracks in the sand and tried the radio again but to no avail. I noticed a nearby nomadic shepherd boy; he knew no French; it seemed that he had not seen a motorcycle; with gestures I inquired of the direction of the paths and he reassured me that the right trail met the first one just up ahead. Just then the two merchants caught up to me. This time in perfect English he asked where I was going. I told him Tchageen, and after conversing to his partner in something other than Arabic he told me that the left road was the better one. No sooner than he had said this a couple of nomads appeared on donkeys out of the brush. Having come across the plains they were likely men who lived locally. They inquired of the situation and after even further discussion the English-speaking merchant told me to take the right one instead, as I was likely to meet my friend in the next village where it met the previous path. I graciously thanked them and headed off again.

As I motored on I began to wonder if my encounter with the men dressed in white had been heavenly sent or even possibly some of heaven's residents. The trail soon became encroached with young palms. I was obviously nearing a village, yes! And there was the trail I had left previously. I carried on through the village in hopes to see Adoum but upon reaching the other end, I had not seen him. I stopped under one of the few trees providing shade and stretched my legs. Soon curious onlookers surrounded me. I began to inquire if anyone spoke French. Only those who had been lucky enough to have had a few years of school would. They summoned a very well dressed man from the yard next to me. I found out he was the local schoolteacher. His French was very good and he was also Ngambai but he had not seen or heard any motorcycle that day. I was now worried that Adoum had taken the third path and would be fretfully searching for me and I had all the spare fuel. The men assured me that this was indeed the road to Tchageen and it was only about 20km away. I decided to wait a while and if he did not show I would continue on without him, just in case he was on the third route and already in Tchageen. After about 20 minutes of waiting and watching the little half dressed kids playing in the dirt, and being watched by others I decided that I would go on. In the distance I heard a motor but after another 15 minutes it revealed itself to be the only other vehicle we had passed the entire day, a market truck, which stopped in the centre of town to unload some of its wares and merchants. The group of men nearby began to talk amongst themselves and soon one of them approached me and told me in Ngambai that I had might as well go on. I agreed and asked them if they wouldn't mind flagging down my friend should he pass by and reassure him that I had gone on in safety. As I was putting on my helmet I heard the unmistakable sound of Adoum's bike as he appeared from behind the market truck. He had apparently turned around before reaching the village. He had retraced his steps until he found people that had seen us both and they assured him that I had not turned back, as he suspected I had possibly lost something from my load. He had also tried to reach me by radio but the batteries were dead. I shared some of my cool water with him and we continued on.

At one point while in heavy sand, each taking a separate wheel track, we noticed a market truck approaching us. This is when one quickly looks for a means of escape. The sandy tracks were deep and the sides of the road were dense brush causing about a 2 foot rise. Selecting the path of least destruction we each left the road doing what we could to remain upright. Regaining composure we cheerfully greeted all those atop the heavily laden market truck. We soon arrived in Tchageen and were welcomed by Mark & Dianne. We discovered that in spite of our delays we had made good time and it was only shortly after 8am. They already had the day well under way, trying to get as much work done as possible during the "cool" hours of the day.

After putting our things where we would be staying Mark showed me where the equipment he had purchased was located and what he had in mind for the layout. I quickly got to work making my plan of action. Soon Adoum and I were assembling wires and components that would capture natures power to proclaim the Good News if its Creator. We also helped in installing the antenna elements on the tower and running transmission cables etc. It is always a pleasure to work together for the glory of God. The ladies kept busy in the kitchen as well as painting the studio. We had great times of fellowship in the cool (35°C) of the evening. We slept under the stars each night to the sounds of the village. Each morning we compared notes of what we had heard during the night. One night was interrupted by the loud bang of someone testing a home made rifle. Wednesday was met with some disappointment as I completed the electrical panel. The new inverter, the piece that takes the solar power and makes normal wall electricity, refused to work. I ran several tests but alas it was for naught. We prayed for special insight or a miracle but these were not part of God's plan. One must not "cry over spilt milk" so we made plans to at least test the equipment using the power from the system in Mark's house. The radio team's work was not without its challenges either. As they tested the antenna segments the readings they would get, baffled them. Things did not make sense. Upon further examination they discovered that, though the transmitter was marked as 92.5 and was inspected as such, in actual fact it was set to 95.2. This delayed things the better part of a day. After much sweat all the pieces were installed and the studio was wired. Thursday afternoon we flipped on the power and PTL we got what is considered to be a perfect match. After a few preliminaries we turned on the audio and read Isaiah 55:11 "So shall my word be that goeth forth out of my mouth: it shall not return unto me void, but it shall accomplish that which I please, and it shall prosper in the thing whereto I sent it". Diane brought over a radio and set it on the steps of the studio for people to hear. It was not long until a crowd had gathered. Mark spoke a few words and read some scripture in Kwong (the local language) There was great rejoicing. We all slept well that night and at first light Adoum and I loaded up for the trip home. More Pictures Below

Our bikes were much lighter now, which allowed us to be somewhat more agile. All went well for about 15kms when Adoum signalled me to pull over. His front tire had lost some air, making it difficult to handle the rough terrain. We re-inflated the tire and continued on. We had no further tire trouble after that. We made good time back to Lai where we picked up some more fish to take home. We were at the river by 9:00 and were greeted by the same men who had crossed us over on Sunday. The barge driver was not to be found so we continued across by pirogue. After paying our dues we were on our way by 9:30. I thought, if all went well, I might even make it home for lunch. It was not long however until we realised this was not to be the case. Coming upon one of those loose timber bridges Adoum made a last minute correction and upon recovering on the other side, his motor stalled. After some time of diagnosis we concluded that a leaking seal had permitted oil to keep his ignition from functioning. We dried it as best we could but it refused to work. We were near a small village so we pushed our bikes there in hopes to procure a rope to tow him to Bére (a larger village with motorcycle repair shops). The locals were quite unwilling to part with a rope, as it is a precious commodity for tying livestock etc. After promising to leave it with an acquaintance that they knew, in Bére, they consented and I began to tow his motorcycle. (Do not try this at home, this was done with... professionals) Even shallow sand became a challenge as we tried to keep our balance. We found a shop that was “reputable” who knew the Honda inside and out and we were soon on our way again. It was now obvious though that we were not going to get home for lunch.

We reached Kélo about noon and dropped in again on the Grays. We were somewhat relieved, as it was all paved road from there on in. After a few minutes of fellowship we resumed our trip. It was soon evident that Adoum's motorcycle was not doing as well as before in spite of the repair. It was all he could do to maintain 60km/hr on the level. As we once again approached Krim-Krim Adoum's motorcycle let out a bang that resembled a shotgun blast, then belched huge clouds of carbon that had been released from the exhaust system. We pulled over to assess the problem. He tried to restart the motor but it only sputtered along with out enough power to keep going. We were once again without a towrope. Krim-Krim was just around the bend about 2-3km. I decided to push his bike with mine. I had seen this done many times by the local motorcycle taxies but had never tried it myself. With the damaged bike moving slowly you approach from the side with your foot extended to push on his passenger foot peg. This brings the bikes into close proximity and requires you to keep your leg very stiff yet remain agile on the motorbike. After several tries we managed and soon were in Krim-Krim. We once again tried to get his bike going but to no avail. Several of the villagers recognised us and tried to give us advice. As we were only 60km from home and it was all good road ahead we decided to tow, as it was a safer option to the previous gymnastics. We procured some home made rope made from grass and soaked it to renew its strength. We then bound several strands together and pulled out gently. It held and we were able to make good time the rest of the way home. Having promised to be home around 1pm the family was glad to see us when we finally pulled in just before 5pm. It was an experience to remember. I unloaded and took Adoum to his house in town by himself as we felt negotiating the pedestrians of a city while towing another bike would not be wise. After a good night's sleep we woke the next morning to hear the Vanderkoois announce, on our mission ham-radio network, that they had test broadcast and people had listened in some of the key target villages and all could hear clearly. The inverter that did not work is already back in the US and the supplier has said it should be covered under warranty. We praise God for his goodness and our prayer is that the radio station will go on the air with a regular schedule in the late fall. Pray for the needs that must be met in order for the programmer to come and help. Pray also that God's word will be effective in the hearts and lives of all that will be listening to his work over the airwaves.