So many of you know that I got the wonderful privilege of celebrating my 24th birthday out in the bush. I didn't really know what to expect, but the sisters told me they had everything taken care of...so I went along for the ride! I woke up that morning to May singing happy birthday and telling me the plans of the day. We got to take some amazing hikes the last time we went out there, so they decided that today would be another one. Me, her and the new sister, set off for the day, water in hand and chaco's strapped to our feet. The day before we had gone down to this huge rock, but decided to head in the other direction this day. With much laughter and our feet semi hurting, we hike up to this big tree. I, of course the crazy one, decide to climb the tree...it seemed like the perfect pic. As I got closer to the tree, I noticed that it hung over a ledge...and when you look straight down, there is nothing but sharp rocks...doesn't stop me though...I'm a Herzog...so I climb up and May gets a few shots. The last time she had sent a sister up a tree, we had some problems getting her back down...so we joked about that as i clamored back down...her promising to never tell my mother I did that ; ) We sat for awhile admiring the view, and then decided it was time to trek on. We headed up this ridge and over...and just seemed to walk forever. It felt great to be out there and get to see some amazing views..who knew they had those out in DF! As we were coming down the last ridge, we were met by some women who had gone down to the Wadi to get some water. We greeted them and then kept on going. As a group, at least one of as at any given time tends to wipe out...usually for now apparent reason...we will be walking along and then down on the ground! So as I'm moving down the hill...trying to catch up with my sisters after greeting the last woman, the next thing I know, I'm flying thru the air. I had tripped on a rock and thought I would be able to catch my balance...but the next thing I know I'm laying flat on my butt, laughing hysterically. The sisters run over to make sure I haven't hurt anything, realize that I can't stop laughing and join in. As I stand up, I notice up the hill, the women we greeted laughing and pointing...I guess I became the entertainment for the day! We head on laughing all the way and happy that nothing too bad happened.
That night my wonderful roommate gave me a pedicure..in the middle of the bush...and made some amazing pasta. We laughed and joked about birthdays of past and then went to sleep. A few days later when the last sister joined us, I got some special cookies and a fun 50 cent hat...don't ask! All and all it was a pretty sweet day!!
Tuesday, November 20, 2007
Random Adventures In Dark Earth!!
So these last couple of weeks have been super exciting...thus filled with many random stories! Here are a few of the most random taken from our time out in the bush...hope you enjoy!
About every morning, me and the sisters would hike up to this really pretty overlook and spend time with Dad. There are huge volcanic rock up there, so we would sit for hours and just meditate on whatever Dad wanted to say to us that day. Well without fail, everyday, 3-4 little boys would show up and sit, staring at us until we either 1)stopped talking to them, or 2) didn't bring enough candy to share! I would look over at the other sisters, one singing at the top of her lungs and giving a concert and the other trying desperately to practice her new arabic, waiting for my turn with the audience.
From the first day we arrived at our compound, we had little friends who would come over everyday. One of my special little friends was his little boy Habeebi. Everyday I would stand in the compound and yell out, "Habeebi" and everyday he would come rushing over from wherever he was and sit and eat with me. He didn't speak much, but we would eat and then we would see who could make each other laugh the most by making silly faces! One day he brought his sweet little friend, Jamela, over. She didn't look happy at all. Me and May tried and tried to make her laugh, but we got nothin. We sat with her and Habeebi for a few hours just eating and doing all we could to get a smile...but no avail! While Habeebi was eating his peanuts, me and him started speaking some new language, that sounded much like a horrible version of Chinese. I would say something and then he would respond...this went on and on. The next thing I know I look over and little Jamela is laughing..and trying to speak along with us! We keep speaking this "fake language", eat our lollipops, and I sit amazed that my silliness finally worked to make her smile!
One night the entire team ventures up to the tea house at the top of the hill. We wanted some tea and also to see what kind of opportunities we could run into. We all crowded in this little hut and started drinking tea and jebina (really strong coffee). As we are sitting, more and more people start cramming into the hut..mainly cause there are a bunch of khawajas laughing it up and trying their best to keep the coffee down! Me and May are pressed into one corner, trying desperately to see what's going on around us, and also staying keenling aware of the rats and such running behind our backs. At one point I look at May, who has this face of disgust and horror. I look in the direction she is staring, and realize that our other poor sister has practically been sat on by this bigger woman and is now getting a very awkward head/back massage. I look to May and we immediately break out in laughter, trying desperately to contain it, but failing miserable. I look up again to see this woman has not only forced her love on our sister, but has now decided to rest her head on our brothers leg. Me and May continue the snickering, trying to find something else to focus on, but thankful that even though there were rats, we were positioned in a safe corner away from the excitement!
About every morning, me and the sisters would hike up to this really pretty overlook and spend time with Dad. There are huge volcanic rock up there, so we would sit for hours and just meditate on whatever Dad wanted to say to us that day. Well without fail, everyday, 3-4 little boys would show up and sit, staring at us until we either 1)stopped talking to them, or 2) didn't bring enough candy to share! I would look over at the other sisters, one singing at the top of her lungs and giving a concert and the other trying desperately to practice her new arabic, waiting for my turn with the audience.
From the first day we arrived at our compound, we had little friends who would come over everyday. One of my special little friends was his little boy Habeebi. Everyday I would stand in the compound and yell out, "Habeebi" and everyday he would come rushing over from wherever he was and sit and eat with me. He didn't speak much, but we would eat and then we would see who could make each other laugh the most by making silly faces! One day he brought his sweet little friend, Jamela, over. She didn't look happy at all. Me and May tried and tried to make her laugh, but we got nothin. We sat with her and Habeebi for a few hours just eating and doing all we could to get a smile...but no avail! While Habeebi was eating his peanuts, me and him started speaking some new language, that sounded much like a horrible version of Chinese. I would say something and then he would respond...this went on and on. The next thing I know I look over and little Jamela is laughing..and trying to speak along with us! We keep speaking this "fake language", eat our lollipops, and I sit amazed that my silliness finally worked to make her smile!
One night the entire team ventures up to the tea house at the top of the hill. We wanted some tea and also to see what kind of opportunities we could run into. We all crowded in this little hut and started drinking tea and jebina (really strong coffee). As we are sitting, more and more people start cramming into the hut..mainly cause there are a bunch of khawajas laughing it up and trying their best to keep the coffee down! Me and May are pressed into one corner, trying desperately to see what's going on around us, and also staying keenling aware of the rats and such running behind our backs. At one point I look at May, who has this face of disgust and horror. I look in the direction she is staring, and realize that our other poor sister has practically been sat on by this bigger woman and is now getting a very awkward head/back massage. I look to May and we immediately break out in laughter, trying desperately to contain it, but failing miserable. I look up again to see this woman has not only forced her love on our sister, but has now decided to rest her head on our brothers leg. Me and May continue the snickering, trying to find something else to focus on, but thankful that even though there were rats, we were positioned in a safe corner away from the excitement!
Sunday, October 7, 2007
Rickshaws and other crazy adventures!
Many times as we have been riding around in this city, the thought has crossed my mind that we will probably not make it to our destination, at least not in one piece. Yesterday, was a perfect example of why my little mind would think that!
We were riding in a rickshaw to go help a good friend of ours pack, as she was gettin ready to head back to the states. The rickshaws are only really big enough for three people, so when you add any bags, it gets a little crowded. We have gotten used to being squished, and try and take turns on who sits on the outside. Today M sat on the right, me in the middle, and sister Sue on the left. We were riding along, all fine, until we pull behind this one van. The van looked like something was really wrong..as it was kind of lopsided. Now this is not a great surprise, since there are huge pot holes on the particular rode we were on, and many people get stuck in them, but it is always kind of nerve racking...especially in bumper to bumper traffic...which is how it was at this specific moment. Being in a rickshaw...they always seem to own the rode, even though they are the smallest. They weave in and out...not really caring about other cars..or their scared white passengers in the back! So we start weaving and M starts to grab my arm. We end up being stuck between the lopsided van and another car at a red light. The van starts to rev it's engine, cause obviously now is the time to get out of the whole, and M is practically sitting in my lap! The van revs really hard, M has my arm as her seatbelt, and all I can think is that I'm either going to lose M or lose a limb! As the van starts to back up out of the whole, the light changes, and our little rickshaw driver weaves again, acting like that was an everyday occurance! M held onto my arm a bit longer, and than said that she gets the middle next time!!
Well you would think one exciting ride was enough for a day...but not in the sandbox! The story continues...
So that night we dropped S dawg off at our friends house and me and M start to head towards home. We got an amjad, and sputter down the road. This again, is not much of a surprise, as they tend to sputter, even on good days. This specific amjad was really having problems, and actually kept stalling. Next thing we know, our driver gets out and tells us in Arabic that he needs to go get gas, and that it will only take 30 minutes. Well the next step would just be to get a new amjad, except that we had the whole of the sandbox in this amjad, as our friend had provided us with new presents from her packing party. I looked at M and thought, I got time, so we told the guy we wouldn't leave and would watch his amjad! He started walking down the road, and we just sat there. It was fine at first, except the floor started getting really hot. I'm no car expert, but I don't think the floor is supposed to feel like it's on fire, so as M was talking I started trying to get the door open. I didn't want to freak her out, so I just acted like I was getting hot. Well of course, the door was stuck. I pulled, and pushed, and pulled some more...to no avail. Finally M asked if I was ok...and i told her the floor felt really hot and I think we need to try and get out..just in case! I keep trying, and then (semi culturally appropriately) climb into the front seat, out the front door, and stand outside trying. I don't have guns like M, so it was hard, but after a good 5 minutes I got the door open and all was well! We sat there, with the door open, talking about life, food, and our crazy adventures in the sandbox. After about 45 minutes, a few awkward stares, and much laughter, our driver came back and the ride home continured. We made it home...still in one piece, and with a new expertise in being good passengers!
We were riding in a rickshaw to go help a good friend of ours pack, as she was gettin ready to head back to the states. The rickshaws are only really big enough for three people, so when you add any bags, it gets a little crowded. We have gotten used to being squished, and try and take turns on who sits on the outside. Today M sat on the right, me in the middle, and sister Sue on the left. We were riding along, all fine, until we pull behind this one van. The van looked like something was really wrong..as it was kind of lopsided. Now this is not a great surprise, since there are huge pot holes on the particular rode we were on, and many people get stuck in them, but it is always kind of nerve racking...especially in bumper to bumper traffic...which is how it was at this specific moment. Being in a rickshaw...they always seem to own the rode, even though they are the smallest. They weave in and out...not really caring about other cars..or their scared white passengers in the back! So we start weaving and M starts to grab my arm. We end up being stuck between the lopsided van and another car at a red light. The van starts to rev it's engine, cause obviously now is the time to get out of the whole, and M is practically sitting in my lap! The van revs really hard, M has my arm as her seatbelt, and all I can think is that I'm either going to lose M or lose a limb! As the van starts to back up out of the whole, the light changes, and our little rickshaw driver weaves again, acting like that was an everyday occurance! M held onto my arm a bit longer, and than said that she gets the middle next time!!
Well you would think one exciting ride was enough for a day...but not in the sandbox! The story continues...
So that night we dropped S dawg off at our friends house and me and M start to head towards home. We got an amjad, and sputter down the road. This again, is not much of a surprise, as they tend to sputter, even on good days. This specific amjad was really having problems, and actually kept stalling. Next thing we know, our driver gets out and tells us in Arabic that he needs to go get gas, and that it will only take 30 minutes. Well the next step would just be to get a new amjad, except that we had the whole of the sandbox in this amjad, as our friend had provided us with new presents from her packing party. I looked at M and thought, I got time, so we told the guy we wouldn't leave and would watch his amjad! He started walking down the road, and we just sat there. It was fine at first, except the floor started getting really hot. I'm no car expert, but I don't think the floor is supposed to feel like it's on fire, so as M was talking I started trying to get the door open. I didn't want to freak her out, so I just acted like I was getting hot. Well of course, the door was stuck. I pulled, and pushed, and pulled some more...to no avail. Finally M asked if I was ok...and i told her the floor felt really hot and I think we need to try and get out..just in case! I keep trying, and then (semi culturally appropriately) climb into the front seat, out the front door, and stand outside trying. I don't have guns like M, so it was hard, but after a good 5 minutes I got the door open and all was well! We sat there, with the door open, talking about life, food, and our crazy adventures in the sandbox. After about 45 minutes, a few awkward stares, and much laughter, our driver came back and the ride home continured. We made it home...still in one piece, and with a new expertise in being good passengers!
Tuesday, September 25, 2007
Dogs and Roommate Shields!
Dogs...I like dogs...they are cute and sometimes cuddly and can protect...they are good to have around. Good...unless you live here. We constantly have packs of dogs all up our street and many a day I think we will soon be in war..us against them! Today, unfortunately was a good example of that....
It all started when me and my brown haired sister were leaving the other side of town tonight. We had just spent the day taking care of another friends crazy dog, and were ready to get out of there. We left there house, talking wildly about the events of the night and making plans for the next day. As we were walking down the street, with not much light, we spot a soft yellow looking creature coming towards us. Usually this does not bring too much alarm, as it was only one and they usually don't come up to us. This one, however had a different agenda. It started coming at a faster pace and looking at my bag. I grab my sister and proceed to dance around her, semi laughing and yelling, both at the same time. She is laughing and trying not to get attatcked, as I basically use her as a human shield! A man comes out from his gate and gets the dogs attention and we walk hurriedy down the road...laughing all the way. I profusley apoligize to my sister...promising never to use her as a shield again. I told her that I would next time use M, as she is the one with the big guns!
So what can be learned..dogs are good, except here....sisters don't us sisters as shields, especially when the one with the guns is not around...and lastly, when all us fails, run...and run like crazy!
It all started when me and my brown haired sister were leaving the other side of town tonight. We had just spent the day taking care of another friends crazy dog, and were ready to get out of there. We left there house, talking wildly about the events of the night and making plans for the next day. As we were walking down the street, with not much light, we spot a soft yellow looking creature coming towards us. Usually this does not bring too much alarm, as it was only one and they usually don't come up to us. This one, however had a different agenda. It started coming at a faster pace and looking at my bag. I grab my sister and proceed to dance around her, semi laughing and yelling, both at the same time. She is laughing and trying not to get attatcked, as I basically use her as a human shield! A man comes out from his gate and gets the dogs attention and we walk hurriedy down the road...laughing all the way. I profusley apoligize to my sister...promising never to use her as a shield again. I told her that I would next time use M, as she is the one with the big guns!
So what can be learned..dogs are good, except here....sisters don't us sisters as shields, especially when the one with the guns is not around...and lastly, when all us fails, run...and run like crazy!
Sunday, July 29, 2007
I hate it when I step in crap...
....I never really thought I would here myself uttering those words, but as of Friday, those words have become part of my vocabulary. How you may ask, well listen to my story....
It all started when I once again headed out to the brown town with Mr. Chard (hopefully you remember my love for the brown town and it's donkey carts!). We go out on Friday's to work at a English center. We try our best to teach about english and the way's of our people. The last couple of weeks i have not been able to go due to excessive amounts of rain and illness, so on this particular day I was excited and ready for the adventure. I met up with Mr. Chard and we flag down an Amjad (think ghetto version of a VW van!). As we head out I am just talking to the Father about the day and thinking a bit about my anxiety. I always get a little anxious before I teach...not fearful that I can't do it, but just ready to get going. I notice the brown coming into view, so I tie my head scarf a bit tighter and finish my conversation with Dad by asking that nothing too embarrassing would happen...man am I glad I have a sense of humor!
We get dropped off at the corner and head out in search of the center. The main street is covered with street venders and people, and the center is deep inside the brown walls. We find a small, semi-stable bridge to cross, and I do my best to not step in anything...unfortunately that doesn't last long! We start heading in the direction...the only thing Mr. Chard remembers is that it's by a soccer field and water tower...which pretty much means it could be anywhere! We start heading in a direction though, in hopes of stumbling upon it. The town has been overrun with water, so everwhere you look there are big, deep GREEN puddles...I will let you figure out why they are green! We move quickly, yet carefully around the puddles and finally find the road we are looking for. I was proud at the fact that nothing too bad had happened yet, but as we all know pride quickly goes before destruction. I step firmly down into what I thought was a dry spot and my little chaco sinks into the ground. I lift my once white foot up to find that it is now somewhat of a gray green color. I try to laugh it off, knowing that I have only brought so many tissues with me. We head on, me with unmatching feet, and Mr. Chard with a smirk!
Getting closer to the center, we come upon some men talking. As they see me and then look down at my feet, a smile comes to their faces. They quickly stop whatever conversation they were in and invite us in. I am handed a blue pitcher full of water and a bar of soap. Not wanting to really touch my foot with my hands and trying to act like a lady, I kinda wet my foot and get it semi-clean. We head off, shukraning and knowing that the baait khawaja (white girl) brought entertainment for the day.
Finally we arrive at the center. I go and sit down and quickly notice all of the men looking at my feet! They are laughing and I am told to go sit at a bench, while one of them brings over a hose. He takes my shoe off and proceeds to clean it and then comes and washes my foot the rest of the way clean. I stand, with two white feet, a humbled heart, and the knowledge that Dad definately does have a sense of humor!
It all started when I once again headed out to the brown town with Mr. Chard (hopefully you remember my love for the brown town and it's donkey carts!). We go out on Friday's to work at a English center. We try our best to teach about english and the way's of our people. The last couple of weeks i have not been able to go due to excessive amounts of rain and illness, so on this particular day I was excited and ready for the adventure. I met up with Mr. Chard and we flag down an Amjad (think ghetto version of a VW van!). As we head out I am just talking to the Father about the day and thinking a bit about my anxiety. I always get a little anxious before I teach...not fearful that I can't do it, but just ready to get going. I notice the brown coming into view, so I tie my head scarf a bit tighter and finish my conversation with Dad by asking that nothing too embarrassing would happen...man am I glad I have a sense of humor!
We get dropped off at the corner and head out in search of the center. The main street is covered with street venders and people, and the center is deep inside the brown walls. We find a small, semi-stable bridge to cross, and I do my best to not step in anything...unfortunately that doesn't last long! We start heading in the direction...the only thing Mr. Chard remembers is that it's by a soccer field and water tower...which pretty much means it could be anywhere! We start heading in a direction though, in hopes of stumbling upon it. The town has been overrun with water, so everwhere you look there are big, deep GREEN puddles...I will let you figure out why they are green! We move quickly, yet carefully around the puddles and finally find the road we are looking for. I was proud at the fact that nothing too bad had happened yet, but as we all know pride quickly goes before destruction. I step firmly down into what I thought was a dry spot and my little chaco sinks into the ground. I lift my once white foot up to find that it is now somewhat of a gray green color. I try to laugh it off, knowing that I have only brought so many tissues with me. We head on, me with unmatching feet, and Mr. Chard with a smirk!
Getting closer to the center, we come upon some men talking. As they see me and then look down at my feet, a smile comes to their faces. They quickly stop whatever conversation they were in and invite us in. I am handed a blue pitcher full of water and a bar of soap. Not wanting to really touch my foot with my hands and trying to act like a lady, I kinda wet my foot and get it semi-clean. We head off, shukraning and knowing that the baait khawaja (white girl) brought entertainment for the day.
Finally we arrive at the center. I go and sit down and quickly notice all of the men looking at my feet! They are laughing and I am told to go sit at a bench, while one of them brings over a hose. He takes my shoe off and proceeds to clean it and then comes and washes my foot the rest of the way clean. I stand, with two white feet, a humbled heart, and the knowledge that Dad definately does have a sense of humor!
Tuesday, June 26, 2007
From annoyance flows freedom
I woke up this morning...annoyed. Annoyed that is was over 100 degrees outside. Annoyed that I had to walk in that to get to school. Annoyed at the idea of having to cover my head, my arms, and my legs just to walk out the front gate. Annoyed that knowing the minute I walk out that gate my "rights"...my freedoms...my feelings of being a woman were stripped away and I only would become an object...a "thing" walking down the street. This is something I wake up to everyday.
I pondered on that annoyance...as I do pretty much everyday. I thought about the fact that yeah, it's hot and yeah wearing a million layers sucks...but so what. The opportunities these layers...this cover on my head...have brought are opportunities for me not to be seen and for the Sun's glory to shine. This covered look has brought me into homes of women who also wake up every morning and cover their bodies. It has given me a chance to show them, that despite myself, I love them and want only to meet them where they are. The joy it brings to my heart when they comment on my head wear or long sleeved tunic, despite my flesh wanting to rip them off and be "free". I am free! I have a Dad, that despite my little annoyances, loves me and is willing to use me for his glory. I am not a maryter...I am simply a girl, with flesh in hand, learning that grace and humilty must abound in order for freedom and love to reign.
I overcome. I overcome the feelings of annoyance, because my freedom is found in the Sun and I can only hope that this freedom will be shared with these women who invite me in. They invite me in, because they see that I am like them...that I laugh and cry, that I hurt and rejoice. Unlike them though, I am free...I am free because I know that the Sun's shines. I am free because I know that depsite comments made, despite stares, despite evil, I have a Dad who will listen to my cries and rejoice with my accomplishments.
So, I cover my body. Not because I have to. Not because I want to. I cover my body because these women must and my greatest joy will be found in the day that we are all standing before our Father in freedom.
I pondered on that annoyance...as I do pretty much everyday. I thought about the fact that yeah, it's hot and yeah wearing a million layers sucks...but so what. The opportunities these layers...this cover on my head...have brought are opportunities for me not to be seen and for the Sun's glory to shine. This covered look has brought me into homes of women who also wake up every morning and cover their bodies. It has given me a chance to show them, that despite myself, I love them and want only to meet them where they are. The joy it brings to my heart when they comment on my head wear or long sleeved tunic, despite my flesh wanting to rip them off and be "free". I am free! I have a Dad, that despite my little annoyances, loves me and is willing to use me for his glory. I am not a maryter...I am simply a girl, with flesh in hand, learning that grace and humilty must abound in order for freedom and love to reign.
I overcome. I overcome the feelings of annoyance, because my freedom is found in the Sun and I can only hope that this freedom will be shared with these women who invite me in. They invite me in, because they see that I am like them...that I laugh and cry, that I hurt and rejoice. Unlike them though, I am free...I am free because I know that the Sun's shines. I am free because I know that depsite comments made, despite stares, despite evil, I have a Dad who will listen to my cries and rejoice with my accomplishments.
So, I cover my body. Not because I have to. Not because I want to. I cover my body because these women must and my greatest joy will be found in the day that we are all standing before our Father in freedom.
Thursday, June 7, 2007
The semi-end to chicken little....
**The banner reads..."Look at my GUNS...the tiny chicken is soo scared he hung himself...HAHAHA (evil laughter)"
So last night was a rough night for Chicken Little. Now that Martin Luther has come into the picture, Chicken has felt a little intimidated and has struggled with some jealousy issues. Me and another sister tried to aid by giving him some one on one attention...but alas, to our great surprise, we walked in and saw that he had hung himself. I think the saddest part of the entire thing is that Martin still couldn't let it die...he had to rub in the fact that he has better "guns" and that little Chicken...well is chicken. The happy news is that Chicken was saved in time and is now recovering quite well. He has received some much needed counciling...and should be on the up and up in no time!
(No, I have not gone crazy...we have to find our entertainment somehow here in the sandbox.....no chicken was harmed in this story!)
Saturday, June 2, 2007
Humility...it just stinks!
Humility...it just stinks. It is one of those words that you think about and want never to happen to you. It doesn't feel good. It makes you lack confidence in yourself. It makes you fall on your face and rely on something else for strength. It stinks.
At the same time it is soo good. It totally meets it's purpose. It ISN'T supposed to feel good. We AREN'T supposed to have confidence in ourselves. We ARE supposed to daily fall on our faces and rely on the Sun to give us strength. It stinks, but it stinks in such a sweet way.
I find that I am humbled a great deal here. I don't like it. I fight it and fight it some more, but at the end of the day walk away knowing that the battle is won because I am slowing becoming a mere image of who I once was. Maybe it's fear of the unknown. Maybe it's pride of wanting to be right. Whatever it is, it doesn't matter. It's not all about me. It's about following the sun, and until I understand that and cling onto it for dear life....humility will continue to come.
So, I walk away grateful. Grateful that we have a Sun big enough to humble me when I need it. Grateful that even though I'm humbled, it is in such a way that i walk away feeling more loved and more cared for than ever before. Grateful that humility stinks, but that it is a stink that will forever change me ; )
At the same time it is soo good. It totally meets it's purpose. It ISN'T supposed to feel good. We AREN'T supposed to have confidence in ourselves. We ARE supposed to daily fall on our faces and rely on the Sun to give us strength. It stinks, but it stinks in such a sweet way.
I find that I am humbled a great deal here. I don't like it. I fight it and fight it some more, but at the end of the day walk away knowing that the battle is won because I am slowing becoming a mere image of who I once was. Maybe it's fear of the unknown. Maybe it's pride of wanting to be right. Whatever it is, it doesn't matter. It's not all about me. It's about following the sun, and until I understand that and cling onto it for dear life....humility will continue to come.
So, I walk away grateful. Grateful that we have a Sun big enough to humble me when I need it. Grateful that even though I'm humbled, it is in such a way that i walk away feeling more loved and more cared for than ever before. Grateful that humility stinks, but that it is a stink that will forever change me ; )
Wednesday, May 30, 2007
Donkey Carts and Boy's Named "Kaka"
So I woke up this morning, just like every morning, with the thought that an adventure would be had. Never would I have thought it would involve a donkey cart, a town of brown, and a ruckas of school children...one with the name "Kaka"!
Me and Maria set out for our adventure to the brown town with anticipation in our hearts and thoughts of being the only kwiwajas (white people) for miles around. After riding a bus, for the first time, we arrived at the town of brown. Next thing I know, we are walked over to a cart and told to climb up. Upon climbing I notice that the cart is moving...mainly because it is attached to a very feisty looking donkey. I quickly sit and wait for Maria, and then cover my head and hold on to my bag for dear life! We quickly start and I soon discover that there is no need for roller coasters in this country..they have donkey carts.
We arrive at our destination, which seems to look exactly like the point that we started from! We climb off the cart, me accidentally hiking my skirt up about 4 inches, and we procceed to walk thru the sand greeting onlookers as we pass. We arrive at a little hut type thing, and I look at Maria hoping she has some idea why we stopped. We both just stand there waiting to hear the swaya (little) arabic that we know, come to find out that our lovely guides were stopping to get ice...ice..in the middle of the brown...yeah, that's what I said! So me and Maria exchange looks of amazement, quickly "Shukran" (thank you) and "Ma Salama" (goodbye), and run to catch up with our guides. Upon catching up with them we notice that they are entering the one and only blue gate that I have seen in this town of brown. I stand there for a minute, a bit in awe of seeing color, and then am pushed along, by Maria, to follow. We enter, to see an open space that is covered by blue tarp and slotted roofs. Greeted by some nice men who help run the center, we are rushed into a room at the front and told to sit. Our guides gathered their supplies and started assembling their "rooms" (ie dirt floors seperated by straw brick) and we started sharpening pencils.
After eating around a bowl of veggies and a spread of Nutella, me and my sister decided to go check out the door and see if any students had arrived. I open it to see a sea of brown faces, all a little startled at the whiteness before them, but quickly reassured that we were friendly. Due to my lack of language at this point, and feelings of awkwardness, I start spouting off random phrases in Arabic. I told them my name was, "Ana ismi Sarah" and that the day was hot, and that I was beautiful. I acutally meant to say THEY were beautiful, but I guess I fell asleep that day we conjegated Jameela (beautiful)! They all shake our hands, repeat every word I say, and then run off laughing.
Like racers at a starting line, the lovely blue gates are opened wide and the children started pouring in. Maria and I run to our posts as water girls. I look right, to Maria, and then quickly fill the water cup as hands are reaching out. I continue saying random phrases, get many a snicker, and quickly make some friends. Maria and I gather into the first "room" and are told to sing. I sing, loudly, a fun song with hand motions, while Maria and the students look on. Maria helps me with the second verse, and then the children follow. We sing the song, loudly, several more times and then we are bustled to the next "room". We performed the same fun song as we had before, and then step out into the middle, trying to figure out where to go next. We decide splitting up was probably best, so I walk back into the second "room" and find a seat on the bench in back. I try to be conspicuous...or as conspicuous as a white girl can be in a sea of brown...and sit quietly. I look up, to find a boy at the front waving frantically, and smiling. I aknowledge his look, only to find him get up and come back with his friend to sit behind me. He boldly states "My name is Kaka" and just stairs at me. Next thing I know I am surrounded by 20 new friends, asking all kinds of questions and trying to get me to teach them words in English. One girl looks at my very white arm, while rubbing her hand over it saying, "You...African...need color!". Another strokes my hair, as a little boy comes up and pinches me. I sit there, a little in culture shock, and a great deal in excitement for my new little friends. After awhile, I say "halaas" (finished) and get up to move. With little hands attached and bodies following closely beside me, I make my way to the front, only to be bombarded with more questions and comments. It is at that moment I realize, I better plan staying for a bit, because I don't think there is any hope for an escape!
Upon my donkey cart ride home, I reflect on the adventures of the day....the town of brown, the ice hut, the lovely blue doors, and one of my new little friends, Kaka. I am thankful that the Sun continues to shine, that carts pulled by donkeys have become my new favorite form of public transportation, and that little friends can be made despite whiteness and random Arabic phrases.
Me and Maria set out for our adventure to the brown town with anticipation in our hearts and thoughts of being the only kwiwajas (white people) for miles around. After riding a bus, for the first time, we arrived at the town of brown. Next thing I know, we are walked over to a cart and told to climb up. Upon climbing I notice that the cart is moving...mainly because it is attached to a very feisty looking donkey. I quickly sit and wait for Maria, and then cover my head and hold on to my bag for dear life! We quickly start and I soon discover that there is no need for roller coasters in this country..they have donkey carts.
We arrive at our destination, which seems to look exactly like the point that we started from! We climb off the cart, me accidentally hiking my skirt up about 4 inches, and we procceed to walk thru the sand greeting onlookers as we pass. We arrive at a little hut type thing, and I look at Maria hoping she has some idea why we stopped. We both just stand there waiting to hear the swaya (little) arabic that we know, come to find out that our lovely guides were stopping to get ice...ice..in the middle of the brown...yeah, that's what I said! So me and Maria exchange looks of amazement, quickly "Shukran" (thank you) and "Ma Salama" (goodbye), and run to catch up with our guides. Upon catching up with them we notice that they are entering the one and only blue gate that I have seen in this town of brown. I stand there for a minute, a bit in awe of seeing color, and then am pushed along, by Maria, to follow. We enter, to see an open space that is covered by blue tarp and slotted roofs. Greeted by some nice men who help run the center, we are rushed into a room at the front and told to sit. Our guides gathered their supplies and started assembling their "rooms" (ie dirt floors seperated by straw brick) and we started sharpening pencils.
After eating around a bowl of veggies and a spread of Nutella, me and my sister decided to go check out the door and see if any students had arrived. I open it to see a sea of brown faces, all a little startled at the whiteness before them, but quickly reassured that we were friendly. Due to my lack of language at this point, and feelings of awkwardness, I start spouting off random phrases in Arabic. I told them my name was, "Ana ismi Sarah" and that the day was hot, and that I was beautiful. I acutally meant to say THEY were beautiful, but I guess I fell asleep that day we conjegated Jameela (beautiful)! They all shake our hands, repeat every word I say, and then run off laughing.
Like racers at a starting line, the lovely blue gates are opened wide and the children started pouring in. Maria and I run to our posts as water girls. I look right, to Maria, and then quickly fill the water cup as hands are reaching out. I continue saying random phrases, get many a snicker, and quickly make some friends. Maria and I gather into the first "room" and are told to sing. I sing, loudly, a fun song with hand motions, while Maria and the students look on. Maria helps me with the second verse, and then the children follow. We sing the song, loudly, several more times and then we are bustled to the next "room". We performed the same fun song as we had before, and then step out into the middle, trying to figure out where to go next. We decide splitting up was probably best, so I walk back into the second "room" and find a seat on the bench in back. I try to be conspicuous...or as conspicuous as a white girl can be in a sea of brown...and sit quietly. I look up, to find a boy at the front waving frantically, and smiling. I aknowledge his look, only to find him get up and come back with his friend to sit behind me. He boldly states "My name is Kaka" and just stairs at me. Next thing I know I am surrounded by 20 new friends, asking all kinds of questions and trying to get me to teach them words in English. One girl looks at my very white arm, while rubbing her hand over it saying, "You...African...need color!". Another strokes my hair, as a little boy comes up and pinches me. I sit there, a little in culture shock, and a great deal in excitement for my new little friends. After awhile, I say "halaas" (finished) and get up to move. With little hands attached and bodies following closely beside me, I make my way to the front, only to be bombarded with more questions and comments. It is at that moment I realize, I better plan staying for a bit, because I don't think there is any hope for an escape!
Upon my donkey cart ride home, I reflect on the adventures of the day....the town of brown, the ice hut, the lovely blue doors, and one of my new little friends, Kaka. I am thankful that the Sun continues to shine, that carts pulled by donkeys have become my new favorite form of public transportation, and that little friends can be made despite whiteness and random Arabic phrases.
Monday, May 21, 2007
Arabic, Electrical Fires, and Grace Abounding
So it has been an interesting week with language learning and birthday happenings. We do what we can here in the sandbox and try to find humor as much as we can. Unfortunatly the humor is found mostly in our stupidity...but it works!
The other day after learning the different names for family members in Arabic, we were all standing around and one of my sister's decided to ask one of our teachers "Keef Abuk" (how is your father). His response, "Ana Abuki mat, wa ma ques sakan hell" (my father is dead, and probably not good as he is in hell) and then just walks off! We all just kinda stood there dumb founded and my poor sister wanted to just run and hide. We learned a great lesson that day...never ask about a family member, unless you have physically seen them!
Friday was Maria's birthday. The only two things she wanted for that day were 1)to straighten her hair (we have to wear our hair up most of the time, so it is quite a luxury to have it straight) and 2) to have a time of fellowship with the brothers and others. We all woke up kinda early on Friday and I made some peanut butter chocolate chip pancakes, which are a fav of hers, and then we proceeded to watch her straighten her hair. She plugged the straightener into a converter, then into a surge protector, and then that into the wall. Everything was going smoothly, literally, until we started to notice a smell. Five minutes later smoke starts wafting out of the converter and little sparks jump out of the straightener. We all kinda just sit there and stair as we scream for Maria to shut of the straightener. She steps back and we look on as if we have lost a dear friend. We sit in silence for a bit and little bury our dear friend, Mr. Converter, never to be used again. It was a sad moment and poor Maria walked away with only half of her head straight! That night we were able to spend the night in fellowship with the family and that made us for the small electrical fire that had broken out earlier in the day.
So as can be seen from our experiences....never ask about family unless you are ready for a not soo positive response...and when in doubt don't plug a straightener into a converter unless you are trying to start a fire! Oh grace...abound my friend!
The other day after learning the different names for family members in Arabic, we were all standing around and one of my sister's decided to ask one of our teachers "Keef Abuk" (how is your father). His response, "Ana Abuki mat, wa ma ques sakan hell" (my father is dead, and probably not good as he is in hell) and then just walks off! We all just kinda stood there dumb founded and my poor sister wanted to just run and hide. We learned a great lesson that day...never ask about a family member, unless you have physically seen them!
Friday was Maria's birthday. The only two things she wanted for that day were 1)to straighten her hair (we have to wear our hair up most of the time, so it is quite a luxury to have it straight) and 2) to have a time of fellowship with the brothers and others. We all woke up kinda early on Friday and I made some peanut butter chocolate chip pancakes, which are a fav of hers, and then we proceeded to watch her straighten her hair. She plugged the straightener into a converter, then into a surge protector, and then that into the wall. Everything was going smoothly, literally, until we started to notice a smell. Five minutes later smoke starts wafting out of the converter and little sparks jump out of the straightener. We all kinda just sit there and stair as we scream for Maria to shut of the straightener. She steps back and we look on as if we have lost a dear friend. We sit in silence for a bit and little bury our dear friend, Mr. Converter, never to be used again. It was a sad moment and poor Maria walked away with only half of her head straight! That night we were able to spend the night in fellowship with the family and that made us for the small electrical fire that had broken out earlier in the day.
So as can be seen from our experiences....never ask about family unless you are ready for a not soo positive response...and when in doubt don't plug a straightener into a converter unless you are trying to start a fire! Oh grace...abound my friend!
Thursday, May 10, 2007
You know you're living in Africa when....
....you turn on the shower and the sink comes on
....you get ready to go out for the day, open you apartment door, get hit by a cloud of white smoke, and walk out to a million cockroaches running below your feet
....you wake up feeling a little sick, and your first thought is that your new friend, Mr. Amoeba has made a new home in your stomach
....you make vacation plans by which one of your roommates will get bitten by a dog first....free trip to Dubai anyone
....your electricity goes out....only on ONE side of the house....and it's always the side with the air cons and refrigerator
....you think you might be able to blend into the crowd...but then quickly realize you're white, female, and speak with a southern accent
....your new form of entertainment is making up dance moves to old school rap songs with your roommate...just because you can
and finally....you drive around the city for an hour because you can't speak the language and you're not really sure where you're going..yet you enjoy the ride and little breeze that comes in...OH GLORIOUS AFRICA!!!
....you get ready to go out for the day, open you apartment door, get hit by a cloud of white smoke, and walk out to a million cockroaches running below your feet
....you wake up feeling a little sick, and your first thought is that your new friend, Mr. Amoeba has made a new home in your stomach
....you make vacation plans by which one of your roommates will get bitten by a dog first....free trip to Dubai anyone
....your electricity goes out....only on ONE side of the house....and it's always the side with the air cons and refrigerator
....you think you might be able to blend into the crowd...but then quickly realize you're white, female, and speak with a southern accent
....your new form of entertainment is making up dance moves to old school rap songs with your roommate...just because you can
and finally....you drive around the city for an hour because you can't speak the language and you're not really sure where you're going..yet you enjoy the ride and little breeze that comes in...OH GLORIOUS AFRICA!!!
Wednesday, May 9, 2007
So I Rejoice...
I wake sometimes thinking...seriously, am I really living in Africa...for two years....seriously! Haha...not that it isn't exciting...but it is just a whole new land ; ) My day takes four times as long to complete and my senses are so engaged...ALL THE TIME!!
Adventures continue to be had....and struggles come as well. I have decided they go hand and hand.. you can't have one without the other or life would just be boring. The adventures are fun, and the learning is great...but the struggles are hard and the learning sucks...ironic. You can see how one needs the other. If it was all about adventure, life would look good, but adding a little struggle makes it real. Makes it a life worth living. Many times we live in the adventure not wanting to struggle...but we just have to struggle. So I say delight in struggle, because there is always an adventure right around the corner.
The battle here is strong. The sun wishes to shine, but the cloud so easily gets in the way. It is scary actually. Scary to know that the cloud can blind. Be victory always goes to the sun. The sun is strong, and as long as our eyes stay looking at it...victory. I rejoice, for the victory is coming. The battle rages ever stronger, but victory is sweet...victory is the suns.
Sorry for the rambliness but I leave with these thoughts....seriously...I'm here...seriously!....adventures are good, but suck it up buttercup cause soo are struggles....and the battle rages strong, but victory belongs to the sun....SO I REJOICE!!
Adventures continue to be had....and struggles come as well. I have decided they go hand and hand.. you can't have one without the other or life would just be boring. The adventures are fun, and the learning is great...but the struggles are hard and the learning sucks...ironic. You can see how one needs the other. If it was all about adventure, life would look good, but adding a little struggle makes it real. Makes it a life worth living. Many times we live in the adventure not wanting to struggle...but we just have to struggle. So I say delight in struggle, because there is always an adventure right around the corner.
The battle here is strong. The sun wishes to shine, but the cloud so easily gets in the way. It is scary actually. Scary to know that the cloud can blind. Be victory always goes to the sun. The sun is strong, and as long as our eyes stay looking at it...victory. I rejoice, for the victory is coming. The battle rages ever stronger, but victory is sweet...victory is the suns.
Sorry for the rambliness but I leave with these thoughts....seriously...I'm here...seriously!....adventures are good, but suck it up buttercup cause soo are struggles....and the battle rages strong, but victory belongs to the sun....SO I REJOICE!!
Friday, May 4, 2007
Beans, Dates, and Yarps on the Tile
Being hauled up in one room this week has brought about some very funny moments. Me and the sisters have successfully had some awkward moments while being in the sandbox, but I think being trapped together 24/7 has brought more excitement to them. Here are just a few to share:
Trying to buy fooul....for the hundreth time:
We have had a very hard time getting fooul since being here. Fooul is this bean dish that is very popular and the people eat it for pretty much every meal. We were very excited to get some, so me and Maria walked around every morning, unsuccessfully, trying to find some. Wednesday we get up, with the hope of some beans, and walk out to our nearby bean seller. We get excited as we think we have picked the right time, and arrive to see the fooul is ready!! We don't have a whole lot of language down, so used the sight of money and hand signals to communicate. The men at the stand seemed to understand, and fooul and bread were quickly received. I handed the man the money and we turned to walk away. Well something happened, not really sure what and I was afraid we didn't have enough money, so I looked at Maria and said "Just keep going"....which is never the right way to handle a international interaction! I wasn't trying to steal...I was just so befumbled...my first reaction was to flee and flee quickly. We stood confused, trying to figure out if we flee or use more hand signals....and if we do that which ones to use. The older man shoos us away, but then we're called back, given money, and shooed away again. We started for home, beans in hand, money in pocket, and internationally confused!
Asked on a date to see the Pyramids....in Egypt- -
Me and another sister were gazing in her room at the brand new tile to be layed. The tile we had was brown and gross, so to see the floors covered in white and streaks of silver excited our hearts. We walked around the room rejoicing, while in my head I saw visions of dance parties and late night talk seesions. The nice Egyptian tilemen tried to speak to us in Arabic, and we tried in the swaya (little) we knew to converse back. They told us they were nice....which is kinda odd to tell someone about yourself....and that they were from Egypt. We responded....stupidily I might add....that we hoped to go there someday. They quickly responded, "We can take you....show you the pyramids". My sister responds "Ummm...that's ok..we can go ourselves" as I replied "It's time to go back to the room" and we scurried rapidly in that direction.
Interrupting the tilemans prayer- -
The end of the day had come, and we had had it. We had spent the entire day in my wonderfully air conditioned room, but were done and wanted to check out the exciting work going on outside. We step out of the room, one by one, in awe of the great tile that lay before us. The other two walk quickly to Sue's room, as her room was the biggest and the first to be worked on. I hear the oohhs and aahhs of a job well done, so speed down to see the masterpiece. Upon my arrival at the door, I see that the tileman is in the knee of yarp, as the call to yarp has just come over the loud speaker. My sisters quickly realize the same, and we all scurry into the kitchen embarrassed by our loud American mouths in a land of sand and prayer.
Lessons learned:
Beans and hand signals...not a good combo...seeing the pyramids...something to do...alone...and men yarping on the tile...let them yarp in peace!
Trying to buy fooul....for the hundreth time:
We have had a very hard time getting fooul since being here. Fooul is this bean dish that is very popular and the people eat it for pretty much every meal. We were very excited to get some, so me and Maria walked around every morning, unsuccessfully, trying to find some. Wednesday we get up, with the hope of some beans, and walk out to our nearby bean seller. We get excited as we think we have picked the right time, and arrive to see the fooul is ready!! We don't have a whole lot of language down, so used the sight of money and hand signals to communicate. The men at the stand seemed to understand, and fooul and bread were quickly received. I handed the man the money and we turned to walk away. Well something happened, not really sure what and I was afraid we didn't have enough money, so I looked at Maria and said "Just keep going"....which is never the right way to handle a international interaction! I wasn't trying to steal...I was just so befumbled...my first reaction was to flee and flee quickly. We stood confused, trying to figure out if we flee or use more hand signals....and if we do that which ones to use. The older man shoos us away, but then we're called back, given money, and shooed away again. We started for home, beans in hand, money in pocket, and internationally confused!
Asked on a date to see the Pyramids....in Egypt- -
Me and another sister were gazing in her room at the brand new tile to be layed. The tile we had was brown and gross, so to see the floors covered in white and streaks of silver excited our hearts. We walked around the room rejoicing, while in my head I saw visions of dance parties and late night talk seesions. The nice Egyptian tilemen tried to speak to us in Arabic, and we tried in the swaya (little) we knew to converse back. They told us they were nice....which is kinda odd to tell someone about yourself....and that they were from Egypt. We responded....stupidily I might add....that we hoped to go there someday. They quickly responded, "We can take you....show you the pyramids". My sister responds "Ummm...that's ok..we can go ourselves" as I replied "It's time to go back to the room" and we scurried rapidly in that direction.
Interrupting the tilemans prayer- -
The end of the day had come, and we had had it. We had spent the entire day in my wonderfully air conditioned room, but were done and wanted to check out the exciting work going on outside. We step out of the room, one by one, in awe of the great tile that lay before us. The other two walk quickly to Sue's room, as her room was the biggest and the first to be worked on. I hear the oohhs and aahhs of a job well done, so speed down to see the masterpiece. Upon my arrival at the door, I see that the tileman is in the knee of yarp, as the call to yarp has just come over the loud speaker. My sisters quickly realize the same, and we all scurry into the kitchen embarrassed by our loud American mouths in a land of sand and prayer.
Lessons learned:
Beans and hand signals...not a good combo...seeing the pyramids...something to do...alone...and men yarping on the tile...let them yarp in peace!
Monday, April 30, 2007
A helping of chicken, with grace on the side!
Food...it's an essential...right?! It fills your belly, provides energy, stops a craving...pretty much important for life. Today we learned the lesson very well...and were provided grace from a dad who shows favor even when we try to be big girls.
It all started when we moved into our apartment last night, in the midst of a a great hahboob (sand storm). We had just spent the entire day cleaning our new wonderful apartment and were very excited to move in. We get home after fellowship, and see that the hard work that had been put into cleaning, was equally matched by our new, overly friendly, friend, The Great Hahboob. As true sojourners, we sucked it up and said "maalesh" (whatev in arabic), tomorrow is another day, and now is time for sleep. We woke up this morning, ready to fight the battle and clean once again. We are in the midst of getting a new refrigerator and stove, so for now we have the old ones. I got up, decided it would be nice to have some cold water, so plugged in the fridge. After that, me and the sisters, proceed to scrub the orange away and once again settle into our new home. The day goes fine, the new fridge is not delivered, but I have great faith in our old one....so maalesh. Maalesh....it was not. After taking a greatly needed nap, I rush to the fridge to test it out, anticipating great coldness, and there is nothing...nothing. No cold, no noise of the fan spinning...just dead silence. I look at the door in defeat, but gather the sisters and proclaim it is time to head to the market. It was getting late and dinner needed to be gotten. Me and Maria head out for an adventure, in search of susbstinance that could be eaten, but not refrigerated. We decided our best bet was some fooul (kinda like refried beans) and bread. We had been given a great portion of salata le al fin (salad) from a friend, so we decided combined would be a wonderful meal. We walked around searching, unto our avail. Fooul is mainly only cooked in the morning and the late evening. We met a friend who told us it would probably be ready at 7pm. So we went home, toasted a little soda to our first day and waited excitedly till 7. (side note: I don't ever remember a time in my life I was excited to be eating beans!) At 7, the sisters , scarved up and with beans in our sight, head out. We walk...and walk...and walk some more, but find none. Every place we were told had them...there was none. We stopped at a little stand to ask if they had any, only to be pointed in the direction of a gathering of men smoking pipes....not what we were hoping for! So we travel home, defeated and feeling the pain of hunger. Upon arriving we ancounter our lovely land lady who says, "I will go get you some food...as a house warming". We debated...not cause we didn't trust her taste in food, but just because pride is a lion and we really didn't want to put more trouble on her. We aggreed to her sweet prodding, and waited as she went out. While waiting, the Sun shown his grace through a sweet time of reflection and song. We saw that the sun wants the best for us, and he shines even when we don't understand. A soft knock at the door opened to a banquet of food...fried chicken, fish and chips, salad, bread, and a even soda. Our hearts here humbled, our bellies were filled, and once again the sun shown his grace on three little girls who need the strength from a dad who has great big arms.
It all started when we moved into our apartment last night, in the midst of a a great hahboob (sand storm). We had just spent the entire day cleaning our new wonderful apartment and were very excited to move in. We get home after fellowship, and see that the hard work that had been put into cleaning, was equally matched by our new, overly friendly, friend, The Great Hahboob. As true sojourners, we sucked it up and said "maalesh" (whatev in arabic), tomorrow is another day, and now is time for sleep. We woke up this morning, ready to fight the battle and clean once again. We are in the midst of getting a new refrigerator and stove, so for now we have the old ones. I got up, decided it would be nice to have some cold water, so plugged in the fridge. After that, me and the sisters, proceed to scrub the orange away and once again settle into our new home. The day goes fine, the new fridge is not delivered, but I have great faith in our old one....so maalesh. Maalesh....it was not. After taking a greatly needed nap, I rush to the fridge to test it out, anticipating great coldness, and there is nothing...nothing. No cold, no noise of the fan spinning...just dead silence. I look at the door in defeat, but gather the sisters and proclaim it is time to head to the market. It was getting late and dinner needed to be gotten. Me and Maria head out for an adventure, in search of susbstinance that could be eaten, but not refrigerated. We decided our best bet was some fooul (kinda like refried beans) and bread. We had been given a great portion of salata le al fin (salad) from a friend, so we decided combined would be a wonderful meal. We walked around searching, unto our avail. Fooul is mainly only cooked in the morning and the late evening. We met a friend who told us it would probably be ready at 7pm. So we went home, toasted a little soda to our first day and waited excitedly till 7. (side note: I don't ever remember a time in my life I was excited to be eating beans!) At 7, the sisters , scarved up and with beans in our sight, head out. We walk...and walk...and walk some more, but find none. Every place we were told had them...there was none. We stopped at a little stand to ask if they had any, only to be pointed in the direction of a gathering of men smoking pipes....not what we were hoping for! So we travel home, defeated and feeling the pain of hunger. Upon arriving we ancounter our lovely land lady who says, "I will go get you some food...as a house warming". We debated...not cause we didn't trust her taste in food, but just because pride is a lion and we really didn't want to put more trouble on her. We aggreed to her sweet prodding, and waited as she went out. While waiting, the Sun shown his grace through a sweet time of reflection and song. We saw that the sun wants the best for us, and he shines even when we don't understand. A soft knock at the door opened to a banquet of food...fried chicken, fish and chips, salad, bread, and a even soda. Our hearts here humbled, our bellies were filled, and once again the sun shown his grace on three little girls who need the strength from a dad who has great big arms.
Tuesday, April 24, 2007
TIA
Cultural experiences...good times...good times! I'm sure this will be a first of many...and I hope that they only get better. It all started when my lovely roommate Maria, had her last trunk lost in Germany. It was a sad day for her, be she sucked it up and knew that she would soon see it again. So yesterday the airline calls and says that it has arrived and to please come and get it. We all venture out to the airport, try with all our might to get her trunk, and to no avail...nothing. They had moved the trunk to another area because we were "late"...hello this is Africa....no time here....but whatev! They told us to come again tomorrow.
Today we receive a call saying that the trunk is now in the office and again can we please come down and get it. We head out again...minus a sister...but ready for battle! This time, instead of going into the airport we went to the office. Here in Africa to get in anywhere you must show every important document ever written about you, so me and Maria quickly do that, and then just walk over to the table. We had just had a little Arabic lesson earlier today, so we decided maybe now was the time to use it...probably not very wise on our part! We speak a little and then realize that we should listen..just listen. Next thing we know we have found the trunk but realize the number on it does not match the number on her ticket, so we must walk over to the other office. Now I'm all for walking....it's good exercise...but doing it in 115 degrees, a long distance...not very fun. We decided to make the best of it, practiced a little language along the way, and were just glad the sun has such a good since of humor! We get the precious numbers we need, and trek back to the trunk. Once arriving we are quickly ushered to a back cage...yes cage...where Maria was to sign the ticket so that we could actually take the trunk home. The men we pretty nice, thankfully, so she signed and we started heading out. Again...everything must be checked...so we plop the trunk in front of two women who take everything thing out asking questions along the way. It was pretty entertaining, especially when upon arriving at the feminine products asked, "Is this some kind of food?". I was laughing too much to explain, so poor Maria tried, with no avail. They questioned a little more, but alas let us go free, trunk and all!!
So what can be learned from this you might ask....patience is key, only knowing a few words in a new language will not get you very far, and when all else fails just remember....TIA...THIS IS AFRICA!!
Today we receive a call saying that the trunk is now in the office and again can we please come down and get it. We head out again...minus a sister...but ready for battle! This time, instead of going into the airport we went to the office. Here in Africa to get in anywhere you must show every important document ever written about you, so me and Maria quickly do that, and then just walk over to the table. We had just had a little Arabic lesson earlier today, so we decided maybe now was the time to use it...probably not very wise on our part! We speak a little and then realize that we should listen..just listen. Next thing we know we have found the trunk but realize the number on it does not match the number on her ticket, so we must walk over to the other office. Now I'm all for walking....it's good exercise...but doing it in 115 degrees, a long distance...not very fun. We decided to make the best of it, practiced a little language along the way, and were just glad the sun has such a good since of humor! We get the precious numbers we need, and trek back to the trunk. Once arriving we are quickly ushered to a back cage...yes cage...where Maria was to sign the ticket so that we could actually take the trunk home. The men we pretty nice, thankfully, so she signed and we started heading out. Again...everything must be checked...so we plop the trunk in front of two women who take everything thing out asking questions along the way. It was pretty entertaining, especially when upon arriving at the feminine products asked, "Is this some kind of food?". I was laughing too much to explain, so poor Maria tried, with no avail. They questioned a little more, but alas let us go free, trunk and all!!
So what can be learned from this you might ask....patience is key, only knowing a few words in a new language will not get you very far, and when all else fails just remember....TIA...THIS IS AFRICA!!
Saturday, April 21, 2007
I'm here!!
I'm here...I'm tired...but I'm here and survivng my first day! The weather is HOT, the food is good, and the outside is brown ; ) More will come, but for now continue to be thinking of me and my teammates and rejoicing for the sun is shining mightly on us!
Wednesday, April 18, 2007
Grossness, Whatev, and Bring It On!
Fear...it is such a gross word. Gross, because it takes everything away from you and it makes all things that are pretty, ugly. It is something that, at times, I struggle with. Fear of the unknown. Fear of not walking with the sun. Fear of not knowing who you are. It is gross and just robs. So, I have come up with a new solution...whatev...that is what I say to fear...WHATEV. It is gross, and I'm a girl who doesn't like gross things...so whatev!
Despite all that, exactly 24 hours from now, I will be on a plane headed to a new land. A land where I will stick out like a sore thumb : ) A land where many adventures will take place, language WILL BE learned, interesting foods will be partaken, and amazing conversations, under reflection of the sun, will be had. I am happy and sad and anxious and every other emotion you can think of, but loudly proclaim BRING IT...BRING IT ON!!
So, to summarize...fear equals grossness thus the response is WHATEV, for the sun is shining, new lands are waiting, and I merrily say... "BRING IT ON"!
Despite all that, exactly 24 hours from now, I will be on a plane headed to a new land. A land where I will stick out like a sore thumb : ) A land where many adventures will take place, language WILL BE learned, interesting foods will be partaken, and amazing conversations, under reflection of the sun, will be had. I am happy and sad and anxious and every other emotion you can think of, but loudly proclaim BRING IT...BRING IT ON!!
So, to summarize...fear equals grossness thus the response is WHATEV, for the sun is shining, new lands are waiting, and I merrily say... "BRING IT ON"!
Tuesday, March 27, 2007
Transparency, Dance Parties, and Life Plans....somehow they intermingle
1. Transparency....such an awkwardly amazing word. I feel like it's one of those words in the great English vocabulary that people think about, but just don't ever what to say or put into action. It's good...it's a good word. It's something I have been learning alot about lately, cause I fight it soo much. Like if I don't use it as an action verb, my life will be good...I'll be cool...no one can see my flaws...or heaven forbid my wants and desires. But you know what I say....boo to that. Boo to not wanting to be awkwardly amazing...cause it's not about me...and if my transparency aids one person....the fight has been won.
2. I love dance parties. I look like a dork...I feel like I'm really goofy...but darn it it is probably my most favorite thing to do. I mean why else were we given arms and legs....to move of course! All I can say is that if life could be one big dance party with music playing at every chance...I would be ok with that...and I would probably move to the beat!
3. Life plans....so not worth it. At first it looks good....knowing what you want....putting that into action. Seriously, where is the excitement and adventure in that. Don't get me wrong...some planning is ok...but having a plan and saying that it will happen exactly like that...no bueno. All it brings is disapointment and dispare...and no one wants that. So I say....seek adventure...stick close to the sun....and throw your plans out the window!
So lets recap: transparency...awkwardly amazing....dance parties...should be all the time....life plans....throw em out the window and revert to number 2 : )
2. I love dance parties. I look like a dork...I feel like I'm really goofy...but darn it it is probably my most favorite thing to do. I mean why else were we given arms and legs....to move of course! All I can say is that if life could be one big dance party with music playing at every chance...I would be ok with that...and I would probably move to the beat!
3. Life plans....so not worth it. At first it looks good....knowing what you want....putting that into action. Seriously, where is the excitement and adventure in that. Don't get me wrong...some planning is ok...but having a plan and saying that it will happen exactly like that...no bueno. All it brings is disapointment and dispare...and no one wants that. So I say....seek adventure...stick close to the sun....and throw your plans out the window!
So lets recap: transparency...awkwardly amazing....dance parties...should be all the time....life plans....throw em out the window and revert to number 2 : )
Wednesday, March 21, 2007
Beginnings
Beginnings, they are always soo awkward. There is a hint of excitement...what will happen next...what great adventures there will be? At the same time, a fear of the unknown....will I ramble...will people care....will my ending bring joy? I look at beginnings as an anticipation to the end, while being aware of the middle and all it's glory. The middle....a good place to be. Unfortunately friends...the beginning is where I am and where I must...well...begin.
I come to you not with answers, but with a sojourners heart seeking to follow the sun and all it's splender. Seeking to learn....seeking adventure...seeking a heart that is broken. I don't know what the end will produce. I do, however, know that the beginning will be awkward, the middle will be glory, and the sun will shine immaculately. I bask in the unknown...in the ramblings...in the security that the sun always shines.....even when it's awkward.
So...embrace the beginnings and anticipate the adventures as I faithfully wait for the sun!
I come to you not with answers, but with a sojourners heart seeking to follow the sun and all it's splender. Seeking to learn....seeking adventure...seeking a heart that is broken. I don't know what the end will produce. I do, however, know that the beginning will be awkward, the middle will be glory, and the sun will shine immaculately. I bask in the unknown...in the ramblings...in the security that the sun always shines.....even when it's awkward.
So...embrace the beginnings and anticipate the adventures as I faithfully wait for the sun!
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