What would you be willing to do for a bowl of mac 'n cheese?

 Well, our two weeks’ supply of food has dwindled down to nothing but a couple cans of soup, a box of beans and rice, some ramen noodles, and 3 boxes of mac ‘n cheese.  We finished all the bread, all the once frozen meat including the cans of tuna we bought, and all 90 eggs.  The only meal we had left to eat before we arrived in Monrovia was lunch.  We knew that there was nowhere to eat between the 10-hour stretch from ENI mission and the city of Monrovia, so we brought our canned milk along and 3 boxes of mac ‘n cheese. 

I thought for sure we could find a restaurant owner who’d be willing to boil some water for the pasta, or my Dad would have some friends at Baffu Bay (we stopped there along the way) who could do the same.  However, my Dad had very different plans for our boxed lunch.  It’s ironic – what’s considered a very easy meal in any home with a pot and stove is quite a difficult process on a winding dirt road in the middle of the jungle!  By 1:30 in the afternoon, we were all starving and couldn’t wait any longer.  As we were driving through each village Annabelle rolled down her window, trying to scout out which women looked nice enough to share their pot and fire with a bunch of “white men.”  

My mom in Athelia's kitchen mixing the Mac and cheese 

in the only plastic container we could find in the truck.

We finally stopped in a small village and my mother went to the nearest hut on the side of the road where a younger woman was stroking her fire.  She didn’t hesitate once, or seem bothered by the spontaneous intrusion.  She generously shared her pot, water, and cooking utensils with our family.  Some women close by even brought us some whicker chairs to sit in.  We all sat, crowded around this sweet woman’s outside kitchen as the village’s population of kids squeezed in around us.  Some girls about our age began to laugh at Annabelle and I.  We both laughed too as she said “You know this situation is probably as funny to them as it is to us!”  Many men and women came to greet us warmly, though they had no idea who we were or why we had intruded.  One of the men, Abraham, could speak English very well.  He asked why we had come and told me that this was the first time white people had ever stopped to visit their village.  I began to tell him about the Abraham in the Bible.  He seemed quite eager to hear and willing to get to know us. 

All I know is that I wouldn’t be so accommodating if a large foreign family pulled up on my doorstep asking to make lunch in my kitchen.  But God continues to humble me through the examples set by this culture.  We finally got our bowls of mac ‘n cheese, and the efforts to make our simple meal were worth every bite!

- Ashley