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.

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!

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!!!

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!!

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!