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| Micah Ghent (Luke's Cousin) Operating the Mobile Cafe in the Early Days (more recently the Mobile Cafe has been drawing increasingly large crowds) |
I could immedediately sense why it is one of Micah's favorite places to set up the cafe. The neighborhood grandpa's bantered away as they tried to figure out how to set up the tents and tables. They called out to anyone who passed on the street come and join us to which people readily obliged. A woman my age and her daughter Aaron's age were soon sitting near me. They had just picked up a few things from the grocery truck which comes around three mornings a week because the grocery store was washed away. She told how recently for the first time since the tsunami she had been able to go to a normal grocery store."I walked around the store in a amazement and thot oh yeah things like this did exist before but I just couldn't buy anything then. I just walked out still awestruck." I asked her where her house is. Oh it is closer to the water than here. For some reason when we saw the tsunami coming we locked our doors and stayed in our house. The windows broke; water and glass poured in. The tatami floor mats started to float so we tried to step on them to hold them down. The water left but then another tsunami came Still we stayed in our house. That night the police came round and we knew if they found us they would try and send us to a shelter so we hid but they found us anyway. We refused to leave because I wanted to be there to wait for my husband. I wanted him to be able to find me.
Fine full story on Martin Ghent's FaceBook page or
My husband was working fifty kilometers away. His work was on high ground but the parking lot was on low ground. When the warning came he headed to get the car but it was to late and it washed away. So he started walking home. He and four other guys walked through the night and the next day. It took them over 24 hours. Many parts of the road were piled high with debree but eventually he made it home.
My daughter and I stayed all night in the wet muddy dark house but we could not sleep. The next day I decided to throw out the muddy foul smelling clothes but then decided I might have a hard time replacing them so I took them to the freezing cold river and washed them by hand. When my hands got too cold I stopped and blew on them. We got a metal garbage can and have been cooking on it with wood we collect from the wreckage. The house we live in is condemned so soon we will have to move to the temporary prefab housing.
My older daughter married a man from the next valley. They had four daughters. Her voice grows quiet. The two older girls were in elementary school so they were ok. My daughter, the four year old and the baby are gone. They found the body of my daughter and one of my grandaughters but we cant find the other one. My brother was washed out to sea. He was a fireman and was trying to help people get out of a hotel.
At this point many other women joined us at the cafe and we move to a larger table and served people coffee, pie and the muffins my friend sent with me. The conversation remained light for a few moments but a woman in her early sixties pulled out a photo of her son to show us. He was my only son. I am too old to have another one. I hold the photo of a handsome young man shaking hands with a policeman in America on some trip he made. He is smiling broadly and I wonder if this is his mother's favorite picture of him. Someone asks 'Does he come out in your dreams?' I have heard this question before and am beginning to think it is the all improtant question to the people who are missing people that haven't been found.
A woman says. I think we should stop looking for bodies. It is bad for the people who have died if we stop looking but how can we keep on and survive? We just cant do it anymore. The lady my age who usually tries to be cheerful says what she really thinks. "Its hell for the people who died and its hell for those of us who lived." Everyone agrees with her. One lady who from the time she came wore grief on her face excuses herself and a few others have to leave. I ask my first friend what the other lady's name was. She tells me she never met her before and I realize that with their communities crushed, people must make new communities.
Conversations go lighter again.We discuss the location of the new temporary housing which I have seen because we were trying to figure out how to keep up with changing demograhics but I suddenly realize the people moving into them haven't actually seen them because the housing is up the valley and their cars have been washed away. This is a disturbing discovery for me. The housing is on back-filled rice paddies. There is nothing there other that the mountains and rice fields. There are no stores absolutely nothing and it is miles to anything but many people don't have cars. The logistics of doing life there seem overwhelming but I dont have the heart to tell them my thoughts. I just tell its between the mountain and the rice fields. Soemone comments: "I hope there are no snakes! Near the sea there are no snakes and bugs." This comment seems funny considering everyone has just lost so much by the power of the sea.
The grandpas at this point join the conversation with chase away snake suggestions. Make a brew from cigarette butts and pour it around the house. Works like a charm! Many people come and go and the conversations take many turns. I was just there for the day but Micah is there everyday. Some days he gets to share his testimony. People take the books he has and some come back to get other books for family members. Some say they read a little everyday. He rotates where he sets up the cafe. Sometimes they call up and say "Micah come back, we miss you."
Micah was home for the weekend. Loaded him up with fresh supplies and he set off at three this AM. I pray for a safe journey with his overloaded little van and pray that God will use him again as a minister of his grace and mercy this week. May he be able to bring hope and the light of Jesus! Martin and our short termers will join him in a couple days to hand out books and cookie gifts to the prefab housing people along with an invite to the cafe. Pray for the message of the books and pray that in that area a core group of people will start seeking.There are no known Christians in the areas Micah goes.
Fine full story on Martin Ghent's FaceBook page or
My husband was working fifty kilometers away. His work was on high ground but the parking lot was on low ground. When the warning came he headed to get the car but it was to late and it washed away. So he started walking home. He and four other guys walked through the night and the next day. It took them over 24 hours. Many parts of the road were piled high with debree but eventually he made it home.
My daughter and I stayed all night in the wet muddy dark house but we could not sleep. The next day I decided to throw out the muddy foul smelling clothes but then decided I might have a hard time replacing them so I took them to the freezing cold river and washed them by hand. When my hands got too cold I stopped and blew on them. We got a metal garbage can and have been cooking on it with wood we collect from the wreckage. The house we live in is condemned so soon we will have to move to the temporary prefab housing.
My older daughter married a man from the next valley. They had four daughters. Her voice grows quiet. The two older girls were in elementary school so they were ok. My daughter, the four year old and the baby are gone. They found the body of my daughter and one of my grandaughters but we cant find the other one. My brother was washed out to sea. He was a fireman and was trying to help people get out of a hotel.
At this point many other women joined us at the cafe and we move to a larger table and served people coffee, pie and the muffins my friend sent with me. The conversation remained light for a few moments but a woman in her early sixties pulled out a photo of her son to show us. He was my only son. I am too old to have another one. I hold the photo of a handsome young man shaking hands with a policeman in America on some trip he made. He is smiling broadly and I wonder if this is his mother's favorite picture of him. Someone asks 'Does he come out in your dreams?' I have heard this question before and am beginning to think it is the all improtant question to the people who are missing people that haven't been found.
A woman says. I think we should stop looking for bodies. It is bad for the people who have died if we stop looking but how can we keep on and survive? We just cant do it anymore. The lady my age who usually tries to be cheerful says what she really thinks. "Its hell for the people who died and its hell for those of us who lived." Everyone agrees with her. One lady who from the time she came wore grief on her face excuses herself and a few others have to leave. I ask my first friend what the other lady's name was. She tells me she never met her before and I realize that with their communities crushed, people must make new communities.
Conversations go lighter again.We discuss the location of the new temporary housing which I have seen because we were trying to figure out how to keep up with changing demograhics but I suddenly realize the people moving into them haven't actually seen them because the housing is up the valley and their cars have been washed away. This is a disturbing discovery for me. The housing is on back-filled rice paddies. There is nothing there other that the mountains and rice fields. There are no stores absolutely nothing and it is miles to anything but many people don't have cars. The logistics of doing life there seem overwhelming but I dont have the heart to tell them my thoughts. I just tell its between the mountain and the rice fields. Soemone comments: "I hope there are no snakes! Near the sea there are no snakes and bugs." This comment seems funny considering everyone has just lost so much by the power of the sea.
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| One of the Pre-fab Temp Towns |
The grandpas at this point join the conversation with chase away snake suggestions. Make a brew from cigarette butts and pour it around the house. Works like a charm! Many people come and go and the conversations take many turns. I was just there for the day but Micah is there everyday. Some days he gets to share his testimony. People take the books he has and some come back to get other books for family members. Some say they read a little everyday. He rotates where he sets up the cafe. Sometimes they call up and say "Micah come back, we miss you."
Micah was home for the weekend. Loaded him up with fresh supplies and he set off at three this AM. I pray for a safe journey with his overloaded little van and pray that God will use him again as a minister of his grace and mercy this week. May he be able to bring hope and the light of Jesus! Martin and our short termers will join him in a couple days to hand out books and cookie gifts to the prefab housing people along with an invite to the cafe. Pray for the message of the books and pray that in that area a core group of people will start seeking.There are no known Christians in the areas Micah goes.
