Reflections from Gambia – Alasdair Macphee

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Reflections from Gambia

November 2015

Alasdair MacPhee

I’m Alasdair MacPhee; I’m 23, a Stornoway lad now working in Glasgow as a Structural Engineer. In November I visited the Gambia in the Week 2 team.

I can’t claim to be much of a tourist. My passport has only two stamps. My brother and I spent a couple of days in Malta last February but it was hardly touching 20 degrees. So when I stepped off the plane in Banjul International Airport to receive my second stamp I finally understood that old cliché: ‘the heat just hits you’.

However I wasn’t there to get winter sun. As I sat on the plane, in between chatting with Alison Kennedy and reading my (riveting) book about World War 1, I was running over in my mind what I was actually heading out there for.

I would say I had three principle aims: to work on the school build and try and put my professional skills into practice, to establish contact with the people who Scott had told me about and to try, as best I could, to share the Gospel with any whom I met.

Our first evening hadn’t ended and I had fulfilled the second of these objectives. Down at ‘Bafo’s’ (Bafo being a Rastafarian fisherman friend of the group) we shared an exquisite meal of butterfish steaks and met most of the Gambian committee and Mike (Mansour), a vital cog in the Gambian side of the Partnership’s operations.

It was a joyous night. We shared good food, we danced, we had a go at the drums and we talked and laughed. It was a joy to see the contentment on everybody’s face.

That night we were able to share in a particular blessing, fellowshipping with Christian brothers from the other side of the world. As I chatted with Pascal, Samuel and Phillip, I was struck that although we had very little in common in this world; we have a common Saviour, Christ Jesus, and therefore have everything in common!

The second day started earlier than expected when a renegade cricket decided to slowly die in our bathroom. Words can scarcely be found to describe that noise. But we helped the poor guy on his way and went back to sleep for a bit. The cricket was the least of my roomates’ (Ian and Alex) worries for the following three nights however. More to follow on that front.

This was Friday, the first day at Kabekel. The plan was to work on the school for the day and try and raise the steel roof structure. However before getting down to the nitty gritty, we had the privilege of experiencing the Kabekel welcome. Two key lessons were learnt from this: Kabekel’s kids can dance and Craig Scott cannot!

We had, in all seriousness, been humbled by our welcome. We had been received into a community we scarcely knew with joy and sincerity which by our own Western standards was astonishing. I felt instantly at home and with that, set off to work.

We got through a power of work that first day, raising the roof trusses and fixing them to each of the containers, making blocks, breaking up loose rocks and old blocks to make aggregate for the concrete slabs as well as generally clearing the site and doing whatever our ‘site manager’ Bill Hebner needed done.

I had spoken to Bill on Skype a week before heading out and he had mentioned that the kind of work we hoped to undertake ‘was good for the soul’. Sitting with a coke at the hotel after that day’s work I understood what he meant. It was intensely satisfying.

Saturday started with much excitement but unfortunately for myself, ended disappointingly. I will spare the details, but I developed an upset stomach during Saturday morning. This ruled me out until Monday, although I was able to make it to the church service on Sunday evening, where I had the privilege in leading the congregation in worship using the words of the Psalms. Many of those present commented on the power and authenticity of the worship, which I was hugely encouraged by. I remain thoroughly convinced that our worship suffers greatly when we fail to use the Songs that God has given us in his Word.

I was unable to join the group on Monday but, in God’s providence, I was able to have many conversations about the Gospel and Islam with the workers at the hotel. I believe that the Lord took me aside for a reason and perhaps he blessed something I said to somebody I spoke to. Nevertheless I have to admit that I felt my presentation of the Gospel was lacking as I struggled to frame Gospel arguments in their context. It is important to approach people from ‘where they are’ and to challenge their worldview. However, the Gospel has an intrinsic power and although I spoke in weakness, I know that God can work powerfully.

Following a day of sipping water and being able to consume only Digestives (yes, they have them in Gambia too) I was thankful to wake up on Tuesday, having had a good night’s sleep, itching to resume work on the site. The day’s task involved pouring the second concrete slab strip between the containers which, with the help of a visiting football team who mixed concrete at a super-human rate, we completed much sooner than expected. With the help of expert engineers Roseann and Ian we fulfilled the day’s objective. I spent time with Mike, who would be taking over the site upon our departure, to discuss final details and ensure that work would progress according to plans. Mike has a great mind and pays attention to detail which filled me with confidence that the build would be successfully completed.

Wednesday involved a trip to Memmeh, a village north of the River where committee member Samuel stays with his family. We met the Alkalo (leader) of the village and, Lord willing, hope to establish deeper links in the future. In the evening we were treated to a feast in Kabekel and a truly astonishing display of their culture, with music, singing and dancing. At one stage I waded into a crowd of around 50 of the local men and although I had no idea what they were singing and my dancing was somewhat suspect, I joined in with gusto. Thankfully there are no pictures of this. What happens in the Gambia and all that…

Thursday was leaving day and despite a feeling of deep satisfaction at what we had achieved and experienced there was an acute sense in which I felt I had just got going. I had adjusted but now it was time to leave. The down time gave us time to have a splash in the Atlantic and enjoy the terrific beach at the Senegambia resort. Still, it’s not quite Luskentyre.

I arrived back in Glasgow around 11am on Friday morning following a night in Gatwick having defiled my conscience by ravenously consuming a full English breakfast. I thought I was meant to feel guilty about that kind of stuff!

I’m writing now a few months on and at this point you may be expecting some mild platitudes about how much I learnt and how I will never be the same again. I honestly can’t say that. Perhaps I have a hard heart. What I can say is that I have a deep desire to go back. With every picture I see, particularly of the school site, I resolve to return and, Lord willing this November will do that.

Next time I hope to commit myself more to developing closer friendships with the locals, to spend some more time with the Pastors (who are a continual source of encouragement) and with God’s help, in whatever small way I can, advance the work of His Kingdom in the Smiling Coast.

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