field trip

class

sunday morning

the power was off all last night. it is not so hot right now so i barely noticed until i realized that i had slept until 8am. i have not slept that late in months. because the power is off the baracca’s cannot blare their music and for the first time in months, was not awakened by michael jackson. at the moment i am having my morning coffee. the fan is blowing. the power came on about 8:30 and i quickly rushed into the kitchen to put the electric kettle on. i cannot find my lighter and i am out of matches, after lighting candles when the power was out last night. so i knew that i could not put the kettle on the stove. the power came on just in time. i keep forgetting to buy matches. they never make the obvious shopping list. no clue where that lighter might be. need to find another one.

i have had some sort of sinus infection for weeks. i am on antibiotics now. i am starting to feel normal.

this week has been amazing in school. rodrigo is the success i knew he would be. the boys love him. the girls too. we have about 75% boys. many of them stay after class to talk to rodrigo and they will all sit and listen as long as we will talk. we are hoping that in this next two weeks we can get some photos and video footage for you. i am going to ask henrique if i can go home with him one day this week. i would love for you to meet his family. i have told you about him before. his father died christmas day. we are still waiting to hear about a huge potential business opportunity but making our plan B. i am going to go into town this week and buy our students “uniforms”. we will be setting them up with shadowing opportunities and they need something to show they are in our program and set them apart. i will be giving an english test this week too. i am trying to establish a system for teaching english to our kids. because we have a good many english speaking volunteers here at any given time, i want to get them involved. i want to create a checklist of sorts on each child. each student has a folder and in that folder i want to put a checklist of what they know and what areas the teacher can introduce to the student. i would then like to provide a variety of resources so that anyone can come in and have the tools that they need to teach any one of our students. that would just include instructions, example sentences, vocabulary and game ideas. i know it can be done. when i am home, i will be looking for more resources. we have a friend of Iris coming while i am gone to teach Character Development for two weeks. i think the timing is perfect and it is a vital part of our curriculum. i only regret not being here to learn from her. 

i went to the beach yesterday. i do not go often enough. it has maybe been a month. i have no idea how i could let that much time pass by. the beaches here are breathtaking. we went about 10am and i packed a straw bag of capalanas and a book and camera and those ugly Target water shoes. we perched on plastic lawn chairs. there used to be 8 there but now there are only 3. i am fairly certain i just stared at the water for at least an hour. i had to just sit and take in the view and didn’t want to be distracted by a Novel. i absorbed and soaked and watched. the water is at least 10 different shades of turquoise blue. the little wooden boats don’t seem real. there are women gathering small fish and snails and mollusks, men with large nets. they are working and i have a two month old edition Vogue magazine in my lap. i admire a Marc Jacobs handbag and i look back up at the women with the baskets on their heads. i am a stranger here. the bottle of pink nail polish on my toes costs more than she made this week. if she even has a job. just an observation and the thought that enters my head. and of course i would never pay full price for nail polish. i got it 75% off when i was with Laura at that hair salon in the mall in Kansas. i saw them in the window. Essie Polish 75% off. 

so now i am getting ready for church and by getting ready i mean writing this and thinking about which of my three skirts below the knee i want to wear to church and reminding myself to pack water and wondering how big the mud puddles are going to be after last nights thunderstorm.  

minha quarta

rainbows in the clouds and rats on the roof

clouds over the base this afternoon

Rodrigo is here and I am excited to see what tomorrow looks like. I know the boys will love having a man in the classroom and a native Portuguese speaker. Many of them met him during is 3 months here and having been asking for him. Just today we were given an opportunity to work with a business here. It is still very much in the beginning stages and I have no idea what will happen but a local restaurant needs help and it could serve as a training opportunity for our students. We are seeking out hands-on ways to apply what we are learning in the classroom. So this may be just what we need. 

It has been hot lately but still not as hot as it was back in October. My tan is fading. I colored my hair this week. I didn’t have plastic gloves so I used Ziplock bags. I feel like a new woman. I am learning more and more how to do my days here and flow with the ever constant changes. It is a bit like living at Camp or in an ongoing episode of Survivor. Living here you do get to start anew in a way. I am starting a new life in a new place and I want to establish good habits. My days are nothing like they were at back in the States. I miss Western church and singing in the car. I miss picking up the phone and processing life with my best friends. I need to do a better job of prayer time in the mornings, or even afternoons or evenings. I find the days go by so fast. I am up early and beat by 9:00pm. My old routines from my past don’t fit in here and I am having to adjust. I find myself occasionally listening to Podcast sermons and we always have prayer on Wednesday and occasionally home group on Tuesday, but none of it is the same. Sunday church is in Portuguese and Makua and we don’t sing JesusCulture songs. :) We usually sing the same song multiple times. It’s great. Beautiful, moving, powerful and hot. But it’s different. I guess you would think on the mission field of all places that you would just live in this constant high, full of the wisdom, power, love and revelation of Christ. But you don’t. I don’t any way. I pray a lot. I pray all day and I am always asking for help and asking the question, why?. (The rats on the roof are making lots of noise as I write this. They do it all night long but I never get used to it and I always react as if they are about to fall on my face). I feel like I am learning how to eat a little better and add more diversity to my diet. I am running and it feels amazing. I am starting to feel more like myself and less like a stranger on a very long vacation. So it feels good. But yet, I come home in 3 weeks. 

When I met with Rodrigo yesterday and I shared with him about my past 5 months and all the lessons learned and our major struggles and successes, I told him that the numbers didn’t matter. I have seen in this past month that if I am here for one child, one boy, to get one job, to create one business to make his life better, then I am pleased. I am gaining more here that I could ever give out. It is a life of humility, living here. And one of extreme gratitude. Just imagine, living among the really poor. I don’t even know where to begin to describe their poverty and as I have said before I feel uncomfortable talking about their poverty. I feel like I want to guard and protect them and give them dignity. The average person here has very little. They have tiny hut homes with leaking roofs and few articles of clothing and are doing well to have three meals a day.  There are certainly different classes here, I saw some of them the other day when the private school in town was letting out. But most of the boys in our school live in a little village, in a little hut and having three meals a day is a blessing. It makes my complaints about the rats and the garden hose for a shower seem trivial. I still have no clue what I am doing. I should have studied more. I should studied Portuguese harder and should study more in my day. I should have gotten a master’s in international relations or global poverty or NGO’s. I know nothing about poverty and economics in Sub Saharan Africa. I feel so ill-equipped sometimes. But every day in class, God shows up. I usually never know what I am going to teach about until the night before and then that usually changes in the morning and usually as I stand before them with chalk in my hand a lesson develops. Every day I dust off my hands and stand back amazed at how it all came together. I am anxious to get started on tangible businesses and other projects and have some real fruit to show you from all our efforts. It will come. I am hoping to be able to even do some filming this week. With Rodrigo in the classroom, I can maybe have a seat in the back and take some footage for you. I want you to meet some of our kids and give you a tour of Pemba. Thanks for hanging in there with me and being so patient. Praying my changed routine means more updates here. 

I love hearing updates from you too! gdavis@irismin.org 

P.S. To the Bible Study and anyone else wondering, Rodrigo is 12 years my junior and in a relationship. ;) 

a full house

i decided to go ahead and use the Community Health curriculum that i have, even though it is in English. they pause for translation and it kinda works. the first one i showed had the kids on the edge of their seats. we learned about the nutritional benefits of the moringa tree and various ways to build fires with less smoke. we also learned about alternative fuels. it really gave me some ideas on potential businesses and the kids seemed excited to learn. friday i showed The Human Planet. the projector is not working for some reason and so i have to just show all of these on my laptop and at first we were having small groups of like 8 students but now we have over 25!! every plastic chair and wooden bench was taken! so i have got to get the projector working. it works on 110v and we use 220 so i will have to bring a converter box, the computer and projector all in my bag on the scooter each morning but can figure all that out. i plan to meet with rodrigo today and make plans for the next 3 weeks. i had a student show up this week who was so excited and eager to learn. he told me he studied community health for the past two years but something happened and he was not able to take the courses any longer and he wants to do medicine and work in a clinic and could not believe that we were doing this and that it was FREE! he wants to come to all the courses, business and community health and is eager to learn English. so we really have a lot to do. i plan to teach an hour of English and an hour of Community Health for my classes on Monday and Tuesday and then teach an hour of English on Wednesday and Thursday before Rodrigo's business classes. we are also having more interest in our afternoon sessions of classes as well and having more students wanting individual English lessons. these village kids really are eager to learn and start businesses. many of the kids show up an hour late to classes so we have got to work on that. i know African culture is not time-oriented and i am trying to respect that but it makes it hard when students are not on time and make me constantly have to re-teach things i have already taught. plus it just drives me up the wall because i am always 10 minutes early like you are supposed to be. :)

help

Help arrived this week. Rodrigo arrived yesterday and is here  to help teach our business courses. And Ben, another Iris missionary who arrived this week, has offered to help me get some footage of the school for you to see! I cannot wait to show you the sites and sounds of Pemba. I have failed at really giving you a good picture of what it is like and my time even on the internet to come here and write is limited and it is just hard to do. I write you often in my head and soak in sights I wish you all could see. I wish you could meet all the students and cheer them on with me. Some days are hard and the work I do seems like a drop in the bucket and I need cheering on too. Nothing ever goes according to plan and it seems my job is to roll with the punches and constantly think on my feet. We are offering tangible courses and students are learning and I understand that this is a feat unto itself. I am learning that some of my students don’t read and write. I am trying to find more hands on courses and apprenticeships for them. Most days I am just proud of them for showing up and give myself a pat on the back too. 

Life here bares no similarities to life back home. I don’t dress the same, eat the same, talk the same, drive the same, shop the same, sleep the same, bathe the same. Everything is different. I wear baggy linen and tank tops and my hair up in a sweaty bun. I eat a very repetitious menu that I am constantly trying to change up a little. I drive a little plastic scooter on the other side of the road. If I know the word in Portuguese, I use it. I shop at little barraccas and the one overpriced South African market and only purchase food items and phone credit. I sleep in a twin bed under a mosquito net. I take bucket baths and very cold showers. 

My new house has mold and it is making me sick. I painted in hopes to get rid of it but it seems to be in the weak little air-conditioning too and I don’t know what else to do. 

I took the kids on a field trip this past weekend to the Iris Farm for them to see a farm in operation. I took a field trip once to the State Capitol and that and my 4th grade teacher influenced my life in a pretty big way. 

I will be leaving here in 20 days and feel like I have a ton to do before I go and so much to brief Rodrigo on. I am apprehensive to leave my kids and pray that the momentum grows in my absence. I am also elated to come home to all of you. I’ve missed you more than you know. Even my little “cardboard town” of Hartwell. Someone sent me a thank you note with a pen and ink sketch of the Square on the front. I have it in a tiny easel on my desk in my room. I cannot wait to hit the produce aisle at Ingle’s and I am pretty sure I am the first person to ever say that. I cannot wait to see my family and squeeze them tight. Every day I am grateful to all of you for sending me here. You are making a difference. I know these kids are learning something at least. Even if it is to speak English with a Southern accent. I know my life is forever changed and the longer I stay here the more I change and grow and learn. It stretches you here. I will never struggle with all the issues these poor kids do, but I get to stand next to them and watch it all up close, and that changes you. I am praying that time slows down a little when I get home and I can spend time with you. I need you. It is going to be a full six weeks. 

Today

It is not even 3 o’clock. Did you know the whole rest of the world calls it 15:00? The military, Mozambique, Europe. I woke up at 5. Fumes. I lost my phone last night somewhere in the room and was afraid I was going to oversleep. I dug around and found my old Timex Ironman and set the alarm for 6:00. But apparently it was not even set for the correct time and never went off. I thought it was about 7am and finally found my phone while on my hands and knees and discovered it was 7:58. I quick rushed out the door and went to class. I taught today on Rabies and how to diagnose serious wounds, like bites, puncture wounds and care for them. We are planning a trip on Saturday to go out to Mieze and perhaps to see the farm and then to the beach. I want them to be exposed to all that they can see. I want them to spend time in the village and learn to take a look at the needs, problems and educate them on solutions. I want them to see a proper farm and how things grow and operate. Often times our center kids grow up in a bubble and are not exposed to life outside the base, from what I can tell. After class I went up to get my mail. I had THREE letters. Thank you Jenny Bell and Granny McCarley! I read them on my walk home. I walked along the little dirt path, Indian Ocean right beside me, passing little black faces starring back at me, reading your Valentine’s Day cards. They are so beautiful and I adore them.  Jenny Bell sent me clipping from the Funny Paper. So I read The Family Circle on my walk. If anyone in Hartwell wants to send me clippings from the Police Report, feel free. I do find myself craving news from the outside world. A few places have television and I stare at it as if I have never seen one and any tiny bit of news is a big deal. We heard about Whitney Houston’s death and someone was able to download Kevin Costner’s speech and I want to watch it tonight. I try to go to the major news sites about once a week and always swing by the Atlanta Journal for news about the ATL. And, admittedly from time to time I read Peach Pundit and peek into my former life. But I have no time for any of that today. I love the updates from all of you and thank you for sending me news. I also love getting the news through your eyes, unfiltered. These cards from my grandmother and Jenny Bell are just priceless. I will save them and bring them home with me. They are among my most cherished possessions. I did get to town and I did get the bleach and the hand soap. The bleach is so cheap and the container cheap plastic and it leaked on my green pants. Oh well. I tried to let friends use the scooter but they got pulled over by the police and it was a big deal and they were not able to take it and the police apparently took my documents but I got them back somehow according to the phone call I got about it all. We attempted to look into monthly internet but really got nowhere other than that they are going to come over this week and look at what I have here in the house already as far as installation. I have got to prepare tomorrow’s lesson with the business kids. I think we are going to work on English for a Purpose and work on phrases one would use in a restaurant. Dad sent a video camera. I want to take lots of footage all around to show you all there is to see. I will try. 

Yesterday

I woke up in my new house. I think the paint fumes are still borderline toxic but I stayed there anyway. I spent all day moving my things, which I didn’t think were that much, into my new place. The room has a small old struggling air conditioner that it doesn’t work so well. Less than a month ago the room was covered in black mold. I instantly start to sneeze when I walk into the house and wake up congested but am praying that this doesn’t continue. We have bleached the walls and the mold has been removed from what I can see. I have painted the walls with an oil based paint which I was told helps. I painted the room myself, as I am stubborn and my mother’s child and if you want something done right you do it yourself! I still need a few more things to make it comfortable but it is a great space and I will show you soon. I had weaned myself off coffee but woke up yesterday under my small chenille blanket and decided upon opening my eyes that coffee with breakfast was in order. I have a new electric kettle. I set up the computer and with coffee close by sent an email. I am terrible about emails here. I am terrible about taking the time to get on the computer and write. I am considering getting internet in this house. I think it would change communication tremendously. I am going to look into it this week. I wrote Carla back but didn’t say half of all that I wanted to say and even that took an hour and I found myself scrambling to get dressed and out the door for class. We did wound care in class yesterday. We have a nurse visiting from Norway. Our YWAM kids also helped teach and strangely enough everyone had wounds that needed dressing?! Except me. After class, I came home to my new kitchen and fixed a sandwich complete with carrot sticks on the side. The little South African grocery store had seeded brown bread, Rocket, Beets, Carrots, Cherry Tomatoes and apples. I literally closed my eyes and savored those first few bites. In the afternoon I had a meeting of the Children’s Department. It is eye opening to see the politics of running an orphanage. We must remain in strict compliance with Social Services and it is a constant dance of adjusting to perform to their standards. Most of our older kids go to school in the afternoons, so I have only had two students in the afternoon session. Yesterday I was supposed to meet with Berta. I saw her on my way down. She said she was on her way. She was 45 minutes late for a one hour lesson. We went over the Present, Past Preterit and Past Imperfect and will continue to work on that this week. After class I ran into town with others to get a few groceries and still didn’t get but two things on my list. I need hand soap and bleach and will have to hit up a barracca this afternoon. 

a conversation

I am terribly overdue for an update. My excuses are the same. School is running along and each day brings new students, new challenges, new visitors, and new curriculum. Henrique continues to come and brings friends. One called PeeWee. They come and love the dancing part but sit attentively through the English lesson. Today I used a very basic primary book that taught on consonants and vowels and I felt sorry for these poor teenage boys pouring over a picture book with Apples and Blocks but they didn't seem to mind one bit. I am not sure they had ever even seen a kite before, they didn't seem to know what it was called in Portuguese. I am daily astounded by what they know and what they don't know. Henrique wants to be a doctor. He is 16 and in the 9th grade. I gave him a fairly simple math problem to do, basic subtraction of four digit numbers and he could not do it. I know he has the capacity to do it, I just don't think he has been taught. So working with students like this and learning what they know and what they don't starts to change everything for me and my purpose, my intent and my goals.
This week an amazing missionary is leaving after serving here for 7 years. She has worked closely with a group of boys who live on our base and they are known as "Pam's boys". She has taught them to read and write and how to plant and tend a garden and a little about cooking and cleaning and all sorts. She has discipled them and taught them about self-respect and the life of Jesus. I know a few of her boys and they stand out. They walk with dignity and self-assurance and integrity. She has left them with a great gift and I pray that I can do the same. Today Henrique wanted to talk to me after class to tell me that he had given blood at school. He lives in the village and has no parents. His father died Christmas Day. I know this because his brother works with Iris and we all knew of Manuel's father's death. We had talked about him becoming a doctor and I told him blood made me queasy. He was proud of himself. I was proud of him too. We then talked about blood type and he told me he is O+. He has no one. He has five brothers. But no mama to say, "Good job". And here I am teaching the kid very basic English. It feels like a drop in the bucket. He knows that "A" makes an "aa sound" like in "Apple", but he didn't eat breakfast this morning because he didn't have money for bread. We dance in class and sweat up a storm but the odds of Henrique actually becoming a doctor are about the same as my becoming fluent in Makua or being able to follow him and his friends in their Mozambican dance (which I think was influenced strongly by Michael Jackson, I recognize some moves). I wish you could see these boys. They are no different than any other 16 year olds. They wear skinny jeans and take pride in their clothes and the way they dress. They are influenced by what they see on television and the media and Western culture. Yet some boys are clueless, dressed in rags and barefooted. Each little plastic chair in the classroom holds such a uniquely different person who lives a life I could never comprehend.
I think a lot about nature vs. nurture and what makes them what we are. We all have our demons and the junk we were born fighting against. These kids get dealt a really raw hand. I have talked about this before, how the Portuguese left the Mozambicans with nothing. Everywhere I look I see extreme poverty and very poor education.  As the white girl I am often looked at as a source of money and not a friend. The mechanic who fixed my scooter still harasses me and calls out to me every time he sees me and asks me where I am going and if he can come with me and wants me to buy him food. He is always drunk and he scares me. It is not always a pretty picture. I often wonder if I will ever just be a friend and can ever just fit in here and work alongside nationals and not be seen as so very different. There is no way I can put myself in their shoes and there is no way I won't always be different. It is not easy. So I live here and I try to blend and I try to help and I am trying to educate and of course, love. And that one is not so easy either. I have to love the drunk mechanic and love the lady who stole from me and love the kids that always skip class and love the guy who almost ran me over on the scooter. I am learning a lot about love. It really is patient and kind and all those things the Bible says it is. And only because I am loved and I receive love and I know love can I even begin to go through the motions of pouring it out. It keeps me seeking Him in all things.
And then there are the faces that are so easy to love. It is an honor to do what I do and that I get to live in a place where I just get to watch these young kids grow and play and they scream out my name like I am a celebrity. And they are young and innocent and a little clueless. I pray for hope because I need it myself and they need it too. And this town needs it. We need infrastructure and an economy and goods and resources. These kids need to learn skills and trades. We need clean water and health care and a good education system. We need a government here that is just. And I sing the alphabet song and go over the verb "to be" in the simple present one more time.

a new boy, dancin' shoes and dinner plans!

school has been amazing lately. it is nothing like i ever imagined and i am loving seeing it transform. our center kids have not been showing up as they are supposed to. we continue to have class and have just opened the doors to anyone and everyone. henrique is ushering in all sorts. yesterday and today we had a little boy who came in and quietly sat in the back and joined us. he lives in the nearby village. he doesn’t wear shoes. all the other boys were being shy and refusing to answer. so we asked the tiny barefoot boy in the back. he stood up, came to the front, took the chalk and wrote the answer on the board. today he told me he was 12 years old. he looks about 6. he has large straight teeth. today he sat uncomfortably close to me as i was doing the lesson with him. mozambicans are close sitters. they don’t mind touching. i like personal space. you don’t get it here. he is adorable but there is something about his face that frightens me. not the big teeth. something that just tells me his life is hard. henrique came too and jamal and sergio and augusto and the boy whose name i can never remember. we did more one on one instruction today, now that i have help! i am learning more about what they know and what they don’t. the tiny boy with the big teeth absorbs it all like a sponge and neatly writes down everything and wants everything translated. he would devour a proper dictionary. especially a picture one. he is so intrigued and i can tell he wants to learn. he gets it that english is survival here. after an hour and a half of pretty intense conversation and conjugation, we danced. the boys lined up and didn’t miss a beat from the song they had learned last week. rena the visitor has them doing Tacky Ann’s in the Lindy Hop to the Jackson 5’s Rockin’ Robin. it is one of the most adorable things i have ever seen. today henrique changed shoes. he had little multicolored loafers in his bag and changed out of his flip flops into his dancing shoes. be still my heart. 

this afternoon i had benjamin and berta. benjamin is a boy genius and preaches in church and plays keys. berta is tall and thin and beautiful and loves to study. she goes to school in town. she is very bright. she is shy to speak english but she is a whiz at her own language. today she showed me how to conjugate several irregular portuguese verbs in 3 tenses. i am going to start reversing it on her and showing her the english to all the portuguese that she will teach me. today after class we walked to the beach to go for a swim but stopped for papaya and ice cream and the next thing we knew the sun was setting. now i am home and exhausted and about to go sit under my net to escape the insects that are swarming around me. i made a quick dinner of couscous and tomatoes and have already had my “tub bath”. we don’t have CNN or reality TV or any TV, so i usually look forward to coming home to my latest paperback. or e-book. they days are long and exhausting and it has been hot lately. a good book is all the stimulation i can take. 

rena the visitor has invited me out to dinner tomorrow night. this is one of the pleasures of living here, meeting the people from around the world who come here to volunteer. iris accepts visitors for up to 3 weeks. large teams from churches, youth groups, businesses, individuals, couples and families come from all over the place. i like meeting new people and hearing their stories. rena is from england, a dancer and at one time did an internship in Atlanta! every time she says it she does so with a Southern accent and i take no offense. 

it looks like i may be reading by headlamp tonight. the power keeps going on and off. more soon...

The Charleston. In Pemba.

Today we did an hour of English and then practiced, Left and Right and Front and Back and Around and other vocabulary by doing The Charleston! Turns out this visitor is quite the dance instructor and competed in international competitions and at one time was seventh in the world at something. She taught us how to do the Charleston today. I wish you could have seen these kids. I will try to video it. I am hoping we can actually perform it but not sure if Church is the best place to break out into the Charleston or Lindy Hop but it is priceless to see. Tomorrow she wants the kids to teach her, so they will be practicing their English and showing her one of their traditional dances. I honestly am blown away that dance is a part of the school, but it is a beautiful teaching tool and we are all having so much fun. 

Henrique

School changes every single day. Attendance remains a big frustrating issue. I am learning to be patient with myself and with them. I have to remind myself that at 14 if I were given the choice to go to school or get out of it, I would be at the Dairy Queen with Becky and Elizabeth. I am going with the flow and letting things adapt. 

Henri in 2007

When I was here in 2007 I met a boy named Henrique. He wrote his name Henri on my notebook and drew me pictures. He was about 10. We went for walks on the beach. He lived in the nearby village but would join the other village kids and come over to our base to play and look at the white people. He was good company and a sweet boy. He taught me Portuguese and I bought him Cokes and tried to learn about life from a boy who lives in a village in Mozambique. Around Christmas I saw Henrique in town. I was driving and had friends in the truck and he noticed the logo on our truck and asked for a ride to the base. He asked my passengers and not me and jumped in the back and although I recognized him right away I was not able to jump out and hug his neck like I wanted to. Plus that would not have been appropriate any way. He jumped out at the gate and I wondered if I would ever see him again. I knew he would be all grown up and wondered how his life had changed. One day last week I saw him outside our main gate just walking by. I stopped and called his name. He came over and we talked a little bit. He told me he went to school at night. I invited him to our school. On Monday morning, he came! He walked up accompanied by Manuel. Manuel is over our Village Feeding program. That is not the politically correct term for it but it best describes the gist of it. We feed children every day and play music and games and have small sermons. The kids love it. Manuel does the whole thing and is amazing. There are literally hundreds that come every day and Manuel has it running smooth and loves what he does. He is a solid, strong, passionate man of God. He stands next to Henrique and is beaming. I see the resemblance. He tells me that Henrique is his brother. He tells me that he has been praying for Henri and that this is nothing short of an answer to prayer and thanks me for inviting him. We happened to have a visitor there that day and after one hour of English she taught them dance. Turns out she is a trained dancer and has taught dance all over the world. She wanted to teach the boys the Lindy Hop. She knows all about the history of dance and how the blacks in New York in the 20’s and 30’s changed dance by teaching the white folks how to do it. It was beautiful and hilarious watching the white lady teaching the black boys to Lindy Hop and the boys loved it. They learned “right” and “left” and I laughed and they sweated. She is coming back tomorrow and they are going to teach her. I pray Henrique comes.

Curriculum and a Projector

Thanks to you were are getting materials in just a few weeks. A visitor is bringing a video projector and a set of DVD's! Dad picked out the projector and got us a deal and my friend Travis found these teaching DVD's for Community Development. I think the combination will be an excellent way to teach our community health workers. Having the projector will offer us more ways to teach all sorts of things and find materials in their language. It is a huge blessing. Thank you!

HOME!

I am officially coming home March 25th! 6:30am. I will leave Pemba on March 23nd and fly to Johannesburg and stay the night. I will then leave Jo'burg on the 24th at 7:30pm and 17 hours later arrive in the ATL. I already know that I want my first meal to be the three egg omelet with soysage, english muffins and sweet potato cakes at Ria's Bluebird Cafe. I always get coffee but I might, just might, have to get Sweet Tea.

Friday

Great day in the afternoon classroom. I just had two students, a very advanced student who could most likely serve as a translator and a bright student who understands Portuguese grammar well, and takes tidy notes, but she doesn’t speak much English. She often wanted to know the object in Portuguese and would answer my English in Portuguese. We spent an hour on the verb “to be”. Then Benjamin, the advanced student, showed up so I handed him the chalk and I sat beside Berta and he taught us both, “in front of”, “next to”, “behind” etc... It was perfect to allow him to think outside the box and for me to learn more Portuguese and for Berta to laugh at my Portuguese and learn. The three of us had a great time. Or maybe it was just me, but I thought it was so much fun. I had an English Grammar book in my backpack that I had brought just for Benjamin and was so glad he came. We will go over Chapter 1 together next week. 

I am still not feeling well. My symptoms are nausea and a stiff neck. I am clueless as to what it could be and have no other medical remedies other than a few Cipro and Ibuprofen. 

I Skyped home for the first time since Christmas tonight. It is always good to hear from home. It doesn’t really make me homesick either, it just feels good to see faces and to know that everyone is okay and get a good look at what everybody looks like and hear a good Southern accent. Axel is walking. Carson got a lizard. Natty made a dinosaur. Mom and Dad were at an EC basketball game. All is well. 

Taxes and Donations

Letters of donations received for 2011 have been mailed by ALF. If you have not received your letter please let me know and send your mailing address. Thank you for giving!

The School

School started this week. Only 4 students showed up and one was a village kid who walked in off the street. It was disappointing. There should have been about 30. It is certainly not about the numbers but disappointing that I have done all I know to do to raise awareness and to get everyone on board. Iris has been great in joining me in this endeavor and want to make this a part of the kids daily schedule. This week was an off week though and we are short staffed. I am going to have to literally go and get the kids and bring them down to school. It is frustrating. The first few days of teaching went well. I had help from our visiting YWMA students and was able to divide the students up and give one on one instruction to the introductory level students. Then in the afternoon class it was just me. I had a very advanced student who could have been doing proper English grammar but I only had my basic introductory book and was completely thrown on how to teach him. I wound up scrapping the book and talking about directions and geography and trying to get an idea of his depth of vocabulary. It made me feel like I don’t have a clue what I am doing. But I do know and it just means that I am going to have to plan and prepare for anything and everything. It means I have to get up an hour earlier and round up students. 

We had about 15 show up today and we practiced asking questions. Our missionaries who are here working on our farm came and answered the questions that we asked. The girls protested that they want to have class EARLIER rather than later so now this means I have to get up two hours earlier. And this week of all times I am sick. Other than that little mango allergy, I have been well. But this week I have bit hit with nausea and other violent stomach issues. I have not felt well at all. I am in between classes now and will have our afternoon session in an hour. I have got to study and review and figure out what in the world I am going to teach. And how in the world I am going to do it with just me. Materials arrived in the mail this week and they will be incredibly helpful, when I have time to sit down and add them into the syllabus. Some of the books I have don't really work in this culture.  There are entire readings on "going to the mall" and "Christina Aquilera" and so many things Western. It will take advanced simple planning and preparation and what teachers all over the world do every day. But it is new to me, in this context and I am learning. 

Then there are the problem kids. There are unruly kids who misbehave. There are kids who talk the whole time. There is the class clown. I was all of this and more. There are some who sit quietly and peacefully and listen intently. I was never this student. There are some who answer all the questions and some who never say a word. It is a chore to be fully aware of what is going on in the classroom and go over the material, leaving no one behind and getting the whole group involved. It ain’t easy. 

And now, just as I am getting started, I am already making preparations to go home. As excited as it is to come home, it is honestly rather premature. This six months "on", six weeks "off" schedule is one that has been forced upon me because of my visa. But it would be much easier to stay here a bit longer. We are just getting started and to leave in 8 weeks is just too soon and I don’t want everything to fall apart. 

But I am excited to see all of you and excited to see what the next 8 weeks brings here with our students. I am looking forward to the weekend to plan and prepare for the coming week. It is my neighbor’s birthday today and she and a few friends are coming over tonight for cake and card playing. 

I also had an idea, in my illness, to set up Edy with a Personal Shopping business. All day yesterday I needed someone, anyone to go into town or a barraca and get a cold Coke for me. It is the number 1 remedy for all illnesses in my book. I had to go and get it myself, but it made me think. I sat town with Edy last night and made a list of all the things that most missionaries buy in town; eggs, bread, milk, cocoa, peanut butter, bananas, tomatoes, cucumber. We are going to go to town tomorrow and price all the items. I will help him make a shopping list for us to simply add the quantity of items we want. This has been done before. Apparently the boy took a very huge order that wound up being several thousand mets worth and decided that getting ten percent was not good enough and pocketed the cash. But I think I can trust Edy. I just asked him to get me credit for my phone and gave him more than enough. It could be a lucrative business for him. The buyer will have to pay less then $2 for his ride on the bus into town and will pay him 10% (or some other agreed upon price) for his labor. I think it can work. He needs 3,600 mets and I told him he could earn this in no time. With a little diligence and a lot of integrity, I know that he can. 

The "Bath Bucket"

Granny McCarley always calls a bath, "tub bath". Was never  sure how one has a bath other than in a tub, until now. Here's the difference. My skin is glowing and my tan nightly washing down the drain. My fingertips are pruney even now from soaking. Just another perk of being 5'3". I am not sure how many more years my bursitis hip will let me still run and sit with my ankles on my knees but for now this is bliss. And I am not being sarcastic. It really is really good. 

Polly Put the Kettle On

School doesn’t start now until Monday. We decided to delay it to give the students a week to get settled before starting something new. So I am still waiting. I am anxious for it to start. I can certainly fill my days with just doing life here, cooking, cleaning, going to town, buying food, attempting to write, returning emails, meetings, buying school supplies, arranging teachers and planning the curriculum. Yet, I am eager to get started. I want to do what I came here to do and am excited to spend time with these kids. I have been through a journey to get here and am ready to start creating something. 

And yes, I feel some pressure. My own pressure. I am task oriented. Mozambicans are not. They are event oriented. I read it in a book about cross-cultural relations. I took the test it had inside and confirmed that I am task and goal oriented. I like sticking to the plan and checking off the items I accomplish. I love setting my sights on something, doing it and marking it off. Sometimes I will write in things on my calendar, after I have done them, just so I can mark through them. Okay, not just sometimes, all the time. Mozambicans are all about just showing up for the party. They love the fellowship. The savor the moment and the time spent together. For them it is about fellowship and living in the moment, not about some time-oriented goal. I have a lot to learn. I say this to myself every day. 

I do know that I didn’t come here to suffer and have learned that giving your life to God and saying yes to His plans is the most rewarding decision I have made and I live a life of luxury as His child. He doesn’t give His child serpents and stones. He has blessed my socks off here. 

I know I reflect a lot about home and being home and what I had at home and what awaits me at home, but this is just me being real. It is me walking out the reality of this journey. It remains an honor and a pleasure to be here. I am still dreaming big about plans for businesses for the kids and setting them up with new opportunities. I know this can be done. It will take time and my goals and objectives may have to sit on the shelf from time to time as I build relationship with my new family here. Jesus is the perfect model for how to do relationship and in this too, I am learning. 

Some days I wonder if I can ever relate or befriend or find something in common with a culture so different than my own. I am always very aware of how different I am. I dress different. I eat different. I think different. I communicate different. This afternoon I sat on my crisply made day bed reading a paperback book while my cleaning lady hoisted a washing bin the size of the trunk of my car, that I used to  have, and put it on her head and walked home. And she doesn’t live next door. I could not have gotten that bin up off the floor. She is maybe 5 feet. Maybe 100lbs. And it was raining. Right now I don’t even want to go out on the scooter in the rain because it is muddy and there are frogs. That kind of different. I eat pickled beets for lunch and she looks at them and stares at me. But she is teaching me. She is so patient with my Portuguese and we laugh, but I am learning. She appears to have no interest in learning English but she will sing along to my music. I love hearing her. There is a Rita Springer song where they lyrics are “come in, come in, come in”, an invitation to God. Filomena sings this and giggles when I sing too. 

And then there is Edy. Edy is a boy who lives in the transitional village. He is the type of child we want to target. He is the one who wants to be a pilot. He is in the 10th grade. Now he wants to get his license to be a commercial driver. He needs 3,600 Mets ($130) to be able to go for one month and get certified. Absolutely I am tempted to just give him the money. But is this wisdom and is this the way to do it? I have read enough on dead aid and dependency to know that you cannot just throw money at the problem. And yes I have thought about letting him borrow it and pay me back. But he has no other plan, no job, no instruction in accountability with finances, no one to help him and oversee his spending, his studies. I want to just give him money, but I know I need to give him more than that and this part is not easy. I want to help him get it himself. But you should see his face. He is a good kid. I want to invest in him. But I want to invest in hundreds of others just like him. It’s complicated. I am learning. 

What else? Oh yes, I have been totally taken for a ride several times this week. And not in a good way. Once when I needed scooter repairs and was charged an arm and leg but totally at his mercy and once when I trusted the guy to count properly and he didn’t and I was charged double. Oh, and again when a boy offered to put gas in the scooter but took the money, put in a tiny bit of gas but pocketed the rest of the money. And he wasn’t a stranger, I thought he was my friend. All three times I trusted and then I got taken advantage of. It happens every day. It is frustrating that I lost money. But it is also frustrating that they are in a seemingly hopeless situation. Their poverty puts them in this place of desperation and I cannot say that if I were in it that I would behave any differently. I have never known their poverty and do not know their circumstances. They see me as an opportunity. I have to chose to forgive and love them in the place where they are, over and over and over. And even though Christ does it for me, over and over and over, it still isn’t easy. I hesitate even writing this because it isn’t pretty. But it is a glimmer into the reality of my life. Again, so much to learn.

But there was some pretty big excitement this week.  I bought the biggest wash tub money could buy, Made in China Bright Blue and bigger than the one Filomena carried on her head today. Bigger than a Volvo trunk. Or maybe as big. I paid 500 mets for it in the potato market and didn’t care or flinch. I plopped it down in my non functioning shower, filled it with four pitchers of freezing cold water that will take your breath away and make your heart stop for just a second or two and then patiently boiled 3 kettles of steaming hot water. I squeezed in some Aveeno something and ginger body wash and entered my first hot bath since October 3, 2011. It was at Carla’s house a few days before I left. I sat crossed legged in that tub and had to laugh out loud at how ridiculous I looked. I haven’t bathed in a wash tub since 1978. I got out feeling like I had had a “clean bath” as Granny McCarley says. I wished I had her robe and terry cloth slippers and could have had a bed time snack of a candy bar and a glass of milk and watched reruns of the Golden Girls with her. Instead, I made split pea soup to have later this week and then ate the last of the cookies Christine sent in her care package. They didn’t last a week. But I am kind of impressed they lasted that long. As for now, I am going to put the kettle on. It is 7pm and my washtub awaits. 

ninety nights or thereabout

I am in that moment just above deep REM sleep. I have had 8 hours of lovely, peaceful sleep. My lids are still heavy and shut tight but I see my closet doors, double and white with silver knobs, the sheet bunched in my fist under my chin, my mahogany end table piled high with books, my blackberry dutifully resting on top of a hardback. I open my eyes. I see a drab once white concrete wall, veiled by a mosquito net. I am not in East Point any more. It takes me what seems like minutes, but was really milliseconds, to remember where I am. It is a rude awakening. I lie on my back and picture the globe and the plane route on Delta Flight 200 from Atlanta to here. I have to bring myself back here. This happens every few weeks. I sleep deep and in those first few moments of coherency I have no clue where I am. I have no clue who I am or how I got here. I quickly remind myself, cast off the sheets and start my day.

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I have now been here over three months. As I write this the power is out and I have lit a lone candle in a little glass container. There is rat poop in the wax. Or maybe it is Gecko poop. My neighbor Ruth can tell the difference. Rats live in my ceiling and the poop falls through. Geckos are everywhere. My computer screen has invited every bug and flying insect to come and inspect it. I need to find my headlamp. I want to read in bed. 

Last week I went to the Mieze Milk Clinic. I love going to Mieze. It is a small village where two Iris Missionaries chose to invest and create a model of sustainable development. They have created relationship with the villagers there. I have an online article around here somewhere and will post it when I can find it. They have set women up with small businesses with goats and chickens. They have a weekly medical clinic. And they offer a milk clinic for women with twins or who are unable to produce milk. It is common here that women themselves do not have enough nutrition to produce milk or for various reasons, none of which I want to elaborate on, cannot produce milk. I got a complete education in the field of lactation. And I saw things I have never seen before. I also saw the cutest most adorable babies and weighed them in trees just like I did 13 years ago in Zimbabwe. That summer was one of my happiest and it reminded me of that time and how much I love doing things like this. We had many underweight babies but gave them all milk and bottles and they will come every Friday for more. 

I found beetroot this week at the overpriced South African store and I am one happy girl. 

The weeks seem to fly by here. Even slow days go by fast. This week I have sorted through the few language books I have and am mapping out lesson plans. I bought a few notebooks at a local barraca that also sold apples and oil. I didn’t buy enough. I will get them tomorrow. I would like to get index cards and start making flash cards with vocabulary. Christine sent a care package with The Little Engine that Could inside! It will be a perfect book for reading and I could use more Primary Readers. The list for things I need is growing but it took me coming here to find out precisely what we need. I am hoping to buy a projector for the school soon. There is a lot of curriculum out there in Portuguese on DVD that will be helpful for other subjects. I would like to eventually get a few basic laptops and English Language CD’s and make a little language lab where students can come and learn at their own pace. Did I tell you this already?

The plastic scooter is broken and I am taking it in to a proper mechanics shop in the morning. I can’t wait to see what that looks like. Or how much they charge.

I went and bought fabric on Monday at Natete Market. The boy selling it had a book across his lap and sat on a little wicker stool. After I made my purchase I asked what he was reading and he showed me a Portuguese/English Dictionary. I would like to get that book. It was different in that the words were culturally relevant, like Fire, Breast, Capalana. He had taken notes but I noticed at the bottom in blue ink a small heart with the words Te Amo Juanita. Love is love and 16 years old is 16 years old, from Georgia to Mozambique. I had to smile. He asked me to come back and practice English with him. I think I will. I hope Jaunita won’t mind.

the scooter

Mieze Milk Clinic

School starts in 11 days!

 I am still waiting on curriculum to arrive. But have enough to put something together until it does. I have two new helpers with YWAM. We met yesterday and are meeting again today to get a few things ready. I have moved to the other base so pray the scooter holds up. Heidi told me they only last about a year. It ran out of gas yesterday. It was my fault, as it usually is when one runs out of gas. The funny thing was in the moment when I looked at the gauge to determine if it was on caution yellow or stop red, I thought, “no one fills up here, this thing was made to run off fumes”, it came to a slow puttering halt. Evidently the needle was more on red than yellow. The miraculous thing was that it puttered to a halt in front of a restaurant where I know the owner. I never leave my wallet or phone behind but had this time. I was helpless. She gave me the keys to her car and a gas can and I was able to get my wallet and gas. She saved me a whole lot of walking. 

Rainy season is upon us. It rained yesterday and the day before. It makes all sorts of frogs and insects come out and the roads slick with mud and full of puddles. My roof leaks.

I got a whole slew of cards in the mail! Thank you Granny McCarley, Jenny Bell, Laura, Mom and Christine. I love them! I have them strewn all over the house and love the Christmas ones and the photos of your beautiful faces. Christine put gum in her cards. Laura put chia seeds. I love getting to look at you every day. Keep them coming!

I am already a little apprehensive about the fact that I have to come home. I see it partly as an interruption and inconvenience as I have things that need to be done here. Obviously my next 6 months stay in Mozambique will be more productive in that I won’t be spending the first 3 months settling in and can hit the ground running. Yet, April will be here so quickly. And yes, of course, I want to come home to all of you, but the transition can be more of a rude awakening than a nice trip. Going from here to there is not easy. Getting jerked from one culture to the other can leave you dizzy. 

I have been reading and listening to a lot lately about dreams. I stumbled upon an old sermon about Dreams and put it on last Saturday morning. I found a paperback book here titled “Money and the Prosperous Soul” that included a chapter entitled Dreams. In the sermon the pastor said that most people spend their whole lives living someone else’s dream. I spent ten years serving men and women who dreamed of becoming elected officials. I spent a year serving men and women who dreamed of being a member of Cherokee Town and Country Club. Now it is my turn and I get to walk out this dream, the one that is mine. He also went on to say that in some context we weren’t even God’s first choice! I know I wasn’t. I know that so many others could serve much better in this capacity. I would not doubt that He asked a few others and they weren’t interested. In His Sovereignty they never miss their destiny, nor I mine. But I am fully aware that I was just a yielded vessel who said yes. 

As I count down the days to school, I daily have to change my approach. I have to scratch one thing and recreate another. I am having to open my mind to something new each day and what this is going to look like. I am learning that so much of it comes out of a place of rest and not really striving. (Note here I have to say the word “really” in front of “striving” because I myself am yet convinced that striving is not productive). Much of it occurs through what one might call happenstance. Historian Thomas Cahill said “Leisure is the necessary ground of creativity, and a free people are free to imitate the creativity of God”. Maybe this is a bit of a stretch but I am seeing it every day and I am learning it while I am here. Here leisure includes relationship and creativity includes productivity. I am learning that getting what I need in most every area comes when I am yielded, rested, at peace. I could quite easily become overwhelmed with all that needs to be done to start the school. I make the long lists of things I need in my head and I become instantly overwhelmed. I pick a few things off the top of the list and I pray them out loud. Most every day the answers come and every time out of a place of rest. Often just walking from one place to the other on base brings about the one person I need to see or creates a conversation that meets a need. I am beginning to wonder just what could happen if I truly laid it all down. I love my lists and plans and 26 week lesson syllabus. But I am beginning to wonder if even that will work. Mozambicans are masters at relationship and patience. What, to me, looks like just milling about is actually quite productive. I have a lot to learn. 

Just yesterday the foot starter thingy on the scooter broke. It has been breaking off and I keep a large rock underneath the seat to bang it back on every now and then. This time it came all the way off and a guy saw it fall of and came to help me. I wanted to just hammer it back on and be on my way. But he insisted that I come and get it fixed. We rolled it over to the mechanic shop on base. Not one person was working and they were all chatting. He came and joined the circle of men and sat and talked with them as I stood there impatiently. After a few minutes he came and told me that the man with the key to the tool box was not there but he would come. That man never came but another guy came who knew a guy, who knew a guy who might have the key. After about 15 minutes of not one person standing up but lots of chit chat on wooden benches and leaning on motorcycles, a guy came out of nowhere with a tiny wrench, tightened my foot starter thingy and I was on my way. Then 3 kilometers later, Miss Striving ran out of gas! Oh, the irony. I am learning.

Happy New Year

2012 is here. Kind of hard to believe. Already fully aware of what a year has brought in my life. A full year of traveling and working and preparing and planning. I quit working in January. Went to Ohio and D.C. and Virginia in February. Mozambique and South Africa in March and April. In May, I spoke to the Bible Study women about my trip and shared the vision out loud and listed my house for rent. The women prayed and the house rented a week later. In June, I went to Austin, Texas and was given an avenue through which to raise funds to move to here and start the vocational school. Weekly Portuguese lessons for months. In July, Ramona threw me a farewell party and I went to Bolivia with Mom and Dad and I boxed up my entire house and moved out. In August, I drove to Hartwell with a suitcase and keyboard in the backseat and opened the door to the cabin and slept right in the middle of the four poster bed. I turned another year older. In September, I sold my car and stored and organized the last of my personal belongings and finances and went to Columbia, SC and Manhattan, KS to say goodbye to Shannon and Laura. In October, Mom drove me to the ATL and Betty Conner dropped me off at the airport, as she has for so many trips over the past 10 years. And now I am here. I can’t believe there were 365 days in all that. Time flies. 

I have been living here for three months now. Time is still flying by. I met with one of our students yesterday, Edy. He wants to be a pilot. He is in grade 9. I don’t know if he will ever be able to be a pilot or not, but I will do what I can to help. And I still have no clue as to what I am doing. Classes start in two weeks. The Georgia General Assembly convenes in a few weeks too. I am so glad I won’t be there for that. 

There is a YWAM team here to serve and I am excited to have their help. We have tentative plans to also include some basic computer courses, supplementary to our core classes. Thanks to a visitor from Tennessee I now have file folders on every student. The ESL curriculum is being mailed from Australia. Pray it makes it on time. Pray it makes it. I will be spending the next two weeks getting curriculum prepared, volunteers briefed and students informed. I am trying not to sweat the small stuff and at the same time, not drop the ball. Many things have to be done here in Mozambican time and very relationally. I have seen God work and show up at just the right time over and over again. I am learning to be patient, still. 

Happy New Year to all of you. Thank you for everything. More to come. 

New Years Eve Bonfire