My teammate, Sarah, returned to America at the end of her term in mid-October. I knew I would miss her, but it's just crazy when you spend literally 24/7 with a person for 18 months straight. It took a few days before I could convince myself that she wasn't coming back.
Well, when Sarah left, it provided a good milestone for Abby and I to take a step back from our work, evaluate where we're at, pray about our next steps, and strategize for the next few months (our terms end at the end of January). Long story short, Abby and I felt God leading us to make some (ridiculously lofty) goals to finish our Story Set. As we discussed tasks and due dates, I just stared at her as I had this internal conversation with God. I told Him that I knew He was wanting us to set these goals, but that they were ridiculous and impossible. Why don't we set some more...logical...goals? More realistic. God promptly reminded me that if we set Abby & Michelle sized goals then Abby & Michelle would get the glory. He also reminded me that He created logic. Not discovered, not defined, but created it. And therefore exists outside of it and is not bound by its limitations. So, we set the God-given, God-sized, ridiculously lofty, and humanly impossible goals. And guess what...He has already been meeting those goals. Abby and I both felt like God never promised that we would definitely finish...but we KNOW that He has told us to try with everything we've got.
Monday, December 12, 2011
Sharks
I went straight from Kenya to Cape Town. It was, wow, just wow...probably the coolest place I've ever been. One day, we went out on a boat to go cage diving with some great white sharks. I was really, really, really looking forward to the awesomeness of it. But I was really, really, really not looking forward to having to wear a wetsuit, you know, in front of people and what-not. Well, I just geared myself up and decided it wasn't going to be a big deal and I just wouldn't be embarrassed about it.
So after we got out to where the sharks were, they started calling for people who wanted to go down in the cage first. My friends and I, of course, volunteered. So we had to go to a little area on the boat to get "fitted" for a wetsuit. This "fitting" consisted of some guy looking you up and down and then yelling at another guy what color (size) to get for you. I was thinking to myself, "Oh, good, at least it's colors and not sizes, so nobody will really know what size I am. (even though they can still see me)." So I just stood there while he looked at me straight-on and he hollers out something to the effect of, "Okay, I need a blue"...and then I make a half-turn...and he looks about halfway down and yells out, "Oooh...nope...better make it an orange!" Awesome.
So we move to the center of the (not all that large) boat, where everybody can see us, and put our wetsuits on. Really, I should re-phrase...we got put into our wetsuits. So I wait my turn and then the guy comes to help me get mine on. It was ridiculous. While he was trying to shimmy the legs on, he literally picked me up all the way off the ground. Then, he needed to get the sleeves on me. Apparently he usually has people hold onto this bar overhead so he can shimmy the sleeves down. Well...I had to do a little hop to reach the bar...and he thought that was pretty funny. So he starts giggling. Then I start giggling. Then my friends start giggling. Then...most of the people who could see what was going on start giggling. Good thing I wasn't already embarrassed about the whole wetsuit thing anyway.
Then, they start putting us in the cage and I was the first person to go in. And, well, I kind of started to freak out. Not because of the sharks, but because I am apparently claustrophobic. I was shoved into that wetsuit and the hood was pulled up tight and I had a mask covering my entire face except for my mouth. There was about a foot of air between the top of the ocean and the top of the cage. And I just started freaking out feeling like I couldn't breathe. BUT I eventually got it under control...and then it was fantastic. The water wasn't very clear that day so a shark had to be pretty much touching the cage before you could see it, but we got to see a TON of them. I think most of them were about 12 feet long...maybe 15...I don't know. It was probably one of my most favorite days ever. And one of my very favorite places ever.
So after we got out to where the sharks were, they started calling for people who wanted to go down in the cage first. My friends and I, of course, volunteered. So we had to go to a little area on the boat to get "fitted" for a wetsuit. This "fitting" consisted of some guy looking you up and down and then yelling at another guy what color (size) to get for you. I was thinking to myself, "Oh, good, at least it's colors and not sizes, so nobody will really know what size I am. (even though they can still see me)." So I just stood there while he looked at me straight-on and he hollers out something to the effect of, "Okay, I need a blue"...and then I make a half-turn...and he looks about halfway down and yells out, "Oooh...nope...better make it an orange!" Awesome.
So we move to the center of the (not all that large) boat, where everybody can see us, and put our wetsuits on. Really, I should re-phrase...we got put into our wetsuits. So I wait my turn and then the guy comes to help me get mine on. It was ridiculous. While he was trying to shimmy the legs on, he literally picked me up all the way off the ground. Then, he needed to get the sleeves on me. Apparently he usually has people hold onto this bar overhead so he can shimmy the sleeves down. Well...I had to do a little hop to reach the bar...and he thought that was pretty funny. So he starts giggling. Then I start giggling. Then my friends start giggling. Then...most of the people who could see what was going on start giggling. Good thing I wasn't already embarrassed about the whole wetsuit thing anyway.
Then, they start putting us in the cage and I was the first person to go in. And, well, I kind of started to freak out. Not because of the sharks, but because I am apparently claustrophobic. I was shoved into that wetsuit and the hood was pulled up tight and I had a mask covering my entire face except for my mouth. There was about a foot of air between the top of the ocean and the top of the cage. And I just started freaking out feeling like I couldn't breathe. BUT I eventually got it under control...and then it was fantastic. The water wasn't very clear that day so a shark had to be pretty much touching the cage before you could see it, but we got to see a TON of them. I think most of them were about 12 feet long...maybe 15...I don't know. It was probably one of my most favorite days ever. And one of my very favorite places ever.
| Cape Town |
| Cape Agulhas, the southiest point in Africa, where the two oceans meet |
| Just a cool little sign at the southwestiest point of Africa |
| Intense penguin moment |
| seal! |
| yummers |
What a slacker!/Why We Do What We Do
First of all...holy moley...I have been such a slacker and I know it! I have a (fairly) good reason, though. Our internet was completely turned off for a few weeks and we had to switch. Our current internet is sketchy at best and we get charged by how much we use it...so...here we are. But I'm going to do my best to play catch-up a little bit. Thank you for your patience/understanding/willingness to keep up with me even when I drop the ball!
A while back, I had the opportunity to go meet a team in Kenya. Two members of the team were from my church. I seriously cannot even begin to express how wonderful it was to see Brett (my pastor/former boss/friend) and Patti (my friend/prayer partner)! They encouraged me, prayed for me, asked me lots of questions, and listened to me talk incessantly. And it came at the perfect time...I needed a shot in the arm to come back home and sprint out these last few months of my term before it's time to head back to America.
While in Kenya, we went to distribute food to some villages out in the bush. We were able to participate in their indigenous worship services...always an incredible experience. As I sat there (and then stood there, and then "danced" there), I just got really overwhelmed with one question: When will it be the Sunny people's turn to worship Jesus? We know one Sunny believer, so we've never experienced a worship service where the music, prayer, and message were in Sunny. When we're with Nick (the one believer), he will pray in Sunny and it always moves me to tears. Anyway, as I sat there, I started struggling with feelings of jealousy that we (most likely) will never get to experience that. And then I was reminded that people have been working with this particular people group in Kenya for decades and they are just now seeing the fruit of their work. And it had to start somewhere. Back at Easter, I had a similar experience in Mali where a village had a handful of believers that had sprung up after the people had listened to a Story Set (like the one we're working on). So....allllll that to say...it is always good to be reminded of why we do what we do.
A while back, I had the opportunity to go meet a team in Kenya. Two members of the team were from my church. I seriously cannot even begin to express how wonderful it was to see Brett (my pastor/former boss/friend) and Patti (my friend/prayer partner)! They encouraged me, prayed for me, asked me lots of questions, and listened to me talk incessantly. And it came at the perfect time...I needed a shot in the arm to come back home and sprint out these last few months of my term before it's time to head back to America.
While in Kenya, we went to distribute food to some villages out in the bush. We were able to participate in their indigenous worship services...always an incredible experience. As I sat there (and then stood there, and then "danced" there), I just got really overwhelmed with one question: When will it be the Sunny people's turn to worship Jesus? We know one Sunny believer, so we've never experienced a worship service where the music, prayer, and message were in Sunny. When we're with Nick (the one believer), he will pray in Sunny and it always moves me to tears. Anyway, as I sat there, I started struggling with feelings of jealousy that we (most likely) will never get to experience that. And then I was reminded that people have been working with this particular people group in Kenya for decades and they are just now seeing the fruit of their work. And it had to start somewhere. Back at Easter, I had a similar experience in Mali where a village had a handful of believers that had sprung up after the people had listened to a Story Set (like the one we're working on). So....allllll that to say...it is always good to be reminded of why we do what we do.
Saturday, September 3, 2011
"Doing Sport"
I love exercising in public in Mali. Actually, they call it "doing sport," which I find hilarious. I love it because everybody is always outside, so you walk by a TON of people, and they're all very encouraging. For some reason, they think it is fantastic when the white girl comes out in a moo-moo to do sport. Like, old men will stand up off their chairs and give you two thumbs up and walk for a little while with you, yelling, "Bien marche! Bien marche!"...which I roughly translate as "Good walking! Good walking!" I mean, they're literally cheering you on as you do sport...what's not to love?
Yesterday, as I was doing sport an old man started cheering for me and I couldn't think of how to say "thank you" in any other language but Sunny. So I said it and he repeated it and immediately launched into the whole string of Sunny greetings with me. He was both shocked and ecstatic that the white girl doing sport in a moo-moo spoke Sunny.
Then I passed by our friend, I'll call him Kobe. He speaks English really, really well. Actually, we spent an entire evening one time where he asked me what all of these different words and phrases that came "from the street" meant. Oddly enough, I knew most of the answers. He asked if I was "from the street" in America. I told him yes. We also spent a long time talking about the NBA...this is why I call him Kobe, after his favorite player. I tried to convince him about Dirk, but he was unimpressed since Dirk is both white and not originally from America. (He's kind of infatuated with American culture)
Anyway, I passed him while doing sport yesterday, so I had to stop and chat. He asked if I was doing sport to get slim. I told him yes. I told him I was also going to stop eating as much rice. He said, "Yeah, girl, you gotta stop eating rice and just eat hamburgers!" I told him hamburgers were part of the problem also. Then he told me I needed to play basketball with him if I wanted to get slim. Actually...they all thought I was kind of silly for wanting to get slim. One of his friends that I didn't know said, "Everything looks alright just the way it is, from what I can tell!" How sweet :)
Then Kobe noticed my iPod and said, "Oh, you listen to music while you do sport. What are you listening to?" I told him Usher...which made him and all his friends REALLY excited. He asked what song so I let him hear. They all got really excited and Kobe yells, "We gonna tear it up in da club to that song!" Okay, Kobe.
Yesterday, as I was doing sport an old man started cheering for me and I couldn't think of how to say "thank you" in any other language but Sunny. So I said it and he repeated it and immediately launched into the whole string of Sunny greetings with me. He was both shocked and ecstatic that the white girl doing sport in a moo-moo spoke Sunny.
Then I passed by our friend, I'll call him Kobe. He speaks English really, really well. Actually, we spent an entire evening one time where he asked me what all of these different words and phrases that came "from the street" meant. Oddly enough, I knew most of the answers. He asked if I was "from the street" in America. I told him yes. We also spent a long time talking about the NBA...this is why I call him Kobe, after his favorite player. I tried to convince him about Dirk, but he was unimpressed since Dirk is both white and not originally from America. (He's kind of infatuated with American culture)
Anyway, I passed him while doing sport yesterday, so I had to stop and chat. He asked if I was doing sport to get slim. I told him yes. I told him I was also going to stop eating as much rice. He said, "Yeah, girl, you gotta stop eating rice and just eat hamburgers!" I told him hamburgers were part of the problem also. Then he told me I needed to play basketball with him if I wanted to get slim. Actually...they all thought I was kind of silly for wanting to get slim. One of his friends that I didn't know said, "Everything looks alright just the way it is, from what I can tell!" How sweet :)
Then Kobe noticed my iPod and said, "Oh, you listen to music while you do sport. What are you listening to?" I told him Usher...which made him and all his friends REALLY excited. He asked what song so I let him hear. They all got really excited and Kobe yells, "We gonna tear it up in da club to that song!" Okay, Kobe.
Entertained in Casablanca
Well I finally made it on a plane out of Paris and arrived at my next stop, Casablanca. I stayed here for 7 hours...7 really entertaining hours. First of all, I'm not sure if you're familiar with the "Can I have your number" skit from MadTV, but I totally had the West African version of it happen to me. He liked to say my name "Me-chelle." And then once he found out where my next stop was, he kept saying, "Oh Me-chelle, Me-chelle goin' to Bamako." He also said things like, "You got a husband? Is he rich? Is he in America? Is he in Bamako? You got a baby?" When I said that I did not have a husband, he definitely said he would come to Bamako and marry me and since neither of us had a baby, maybe we could have one together. I declined. At one point, he said, "Come. Now I buy you perfume," and proceeded to get out 150 euros. I said no, but the lady next to me really thought I should jump right on that opportunity. Then he walked into the duty-free store and picked up a bottle of Chanel perfume and went to the counter. I really had to work hard to convince him that I didn't want it. I evaded him for most of the day, but right before he got on his flight he made sure he gave me a pack of gum.
My favorite part of my Casablanca layover was a girl I'll call Hannah. During the afternoon, the terminal got really hot because it was all windows and the sun was coming directly in them. So I went and found a random hallway to sit in. I was just chilling on the ground when a girl (who ends up being from Senegal) comes breezing by. We'd been on the same flight from Paris, but I didn't think she spoke English because when she'd asked me something in French, I'd answered her in English...and that was the end of that. But she says to me (in GREAT English), "Hey, do you know where the restaurant is? You were in Paris with me. I need to find the restaurant. Have you eaten? Come. We'll go to the restaurant together." I've got nothing else to do for the next 6 hours or so, so I hopped up and went with her. Well it turns out that she'd already eaten, but the airline had given her a voucher for a meal because of something that had happened with her flight. So she just grabbed me off the floor and took me to the restaurant and used the voucher to get me lunch! This is why I LOVE West Africans.
We sat in the restaurant and talked for about an hour. The highlight of that time was when she said she loved Alicia Keys and I said I did too. We looked at each other in silence for about 2 seconds, then simultaneously busted out singing "I keep on fallin' iiiiiinnnn love with youuuuu." We weren't quiet about it either. And we sang a good chunk of the song. Again, this is why I LOVE West Africans.
Then we headed back out to the gates and sat and talked for a while. I even had the opportunity to tell her a story from the Bible. She was talking about how she doesn't want to get married at all, unless it's to a very good man. She's not very impressed with the men in her culture and the way they view women. So I asked her what a "very good man" would be. After naming several characteristics which reminded me of Jesus, I told her the story of the woman at the well. We talked a lot about Jesus and religion and prayer and everything.
Then Hannah left and I headed to my gate (after being intercepted by the first guy so he could give me some gum). Then I got on a plane and went home. Finally.
My favorite part of my Casablanca layover was a girl I'll call Hannah. During the afternoon, the terminal got really hot because it was all windows and the sun was coming directly in them. So I went and found a random hallway to sit in. I was just chilling on the ground when a girl (who ends up being from Senegal) comes breezing by. We'd been on the same flight from Paris, but I didn't think she spoke English because when she'd asked me something in French, I'd answered her in English...and that was the end of that. But she says to me (in GREAT English), "Hey, do you know where the restaurant is? You were in Paris with me. I need to find the restaurant. Have you eaten? Come. We'll go to the restaurant together." I've got nothing else to do for the next 6 hours or so, so I hopped up and went with her. Well it turns out that she'd already eaten, but the airline had given her a voucher for a meal because of something that had happened with her flight. So she just grabbed me off the floor and took me to the restaurant and used the voucher to get me lunch! This is why I LOVE West Africans.
We sat in the restaurant and talked for about an hour. The highlight of that time was when she said she loved Alicia Keys and I said I did too. We looked at each other in silence for about 2 seconds, then simultaneously busted out singing "I keep on fallin' iiiiiinnnn love with youuuuu." We weren't quiet about it either. And we sang a good chunk of the song. Again, this is why I LOVE West Africans.
Then we headed back out to the gates and sat and talked for a while. I even had the opportunity to tell her a story from the Bible. She was talking about how she doesn't want to get married at all, unless it's to a very good man. She's not very impressed with the men in her culture and the way they view women. So I asked her what a "very good man" would be. After naming several characteristics which reminded me of Jesus, I told her the story of the woman at the well. We talked a lot about Jesus and religion and prayer and everything.
Then Hannah left and I headed to my gate (after being intercepted by the first guy so he could give me some gum). Then I got on a plane and went home. Finally.
Stuck in Paris
It sounds pretty glamorous, right? I mean, if "Stuck in Paris" was the title of a book or a movie, you'd expect that some incredibly attractive Frenchman would sweep the stuck heroine of the story off her feet and they'd spend the next couple of days seeing everything there was to see in Paris and sitting in bistros. But, as it turns out, attractive Frenchman aren't all that interested in sweeping girls who have been sleeping on the airport floor while wearing a skirt and Chacos and who haven't bathed in a few days off their feet. Here's what happened.
Upon arriving at the Athens airport at 4:45 am, I found out that my 7 am flight had been delayed until 2:10 pm. This usually wouldn't be THAT big of a deal. But. In order to save a few hundred dollars, I booked my flights from here to Paris and from Paris to Athens completely separately. So, the airline getting me from Athens to Madrid to Paris would only take care of me as far as Paris. But because of the 7 hour delay, they had to put me on a different flight from Madrid to Paris...which of course made me miss my next flight by a couple of hours.
So I get in to Paris at about 10 pm and immediately go to information to find out where the ticket counter is for my next airline. I walk to the next terminal to find all ticket counters closed. The lady at that terminal's information counter told me that they wouldn't open back up until 6 am the next morning. She then pretty much made me feel like an idiot for not having a paper from the original airline stating that my flight was 7 hours delayed, even though when I asked what I needed to do and what they could do for me the answer was nothing. At this point I've realized that I'm going to be spending the night in the airport. Before heading to the area where people are allowed to stay during the night, I took a detour to the bathroom for a little cry (which I never do...seriously) then headed out to find somewhere to sit. All of the chairs had arms on them, so there wasn't really any way to do anything but sit straight up in them. At one point I tried laying on the ground with my suitcase as a pillow. It was FREEZING, so I dug a jacket and a scarf out of my suitcase. I still couldn't fall asleep, but I just laid there anyway.
The next morning I went to the ticket counter at 6 am. The man there told me that my ticket was not "changeable" so I'd have to buy a completely new ticket home, but since the other airline's flight had been delayed for that long of a time, they were REQUIRED to do something to help me. So I walked back to the other terminal. There, the at-fault-airline's counter lady told me that I needed to fill out a complaint form then go buy a new ticket from the other airline's counter, then bring the receipt and the complaint form back...and the cost of the new ticket should be reimbursed. I wanted more of a guarantee, but I just had to get home somehow. At this point my feet are literally bleeding and so swollen that I can't wear all the straps of my Chacos (remember that last night of walking all over Athens in strappy sandals?), so I took the shuttle. I was the only one on it waiting for it to leave when a man got on who turned out to be FROM MALI and who spoke SUNNY!!! That was a little bright spot in my day. So I bought a new ticket home (with money I had not planned on spending) and took the receipt and my complaint form back to the other terminal again. The next available flight home wasn't until 1 pm...the following day. So upon realizing that I would be spending one entire day, another entire night, and half of another day in the airport, I started trying to talk both airlines into paying for a place for me to stay...nobody would. (Here's where there was another detour to the bathroom for a little cry)
Now, I know what you're thinking...you were in Paris for 2 days and never left the airport? That is correct. Because I didn't want to spend one more euro than I had to, plus I was by myself, plus I was exhausted and afraid I'd get lost, plus my feet were bleeding. But mostly the money thing. So I settled in to a routine of wandering the terminal, filling up my Nalgene in the bathroom, and sitting at the McDonald's (which had free wifi AND tables with plugs to charge things). By now I was so tired (remember...no sleep on the ferry...then a 3-hour nap...then no sleep the night before I left...then the night at the airport) that I would fall asleep sitting straight up and wake up to find myself facing the person sitting next to me with my mouth wide open...and maybe a little drool. This happened more than a couple of times.
So yeah...no Frenchmen sweeping me off my feet.
Vacation in GREECE!
When I was at orientation, a lot of my friends doing the same thing I'm doing started making plans to vacation together during our terms and we soon began discussing Greece. Since then we've all been saving up and making plans...and saving up some more...and we finally went in August! And it was absolutely incredible.
While I was packing I was completely diligent to make sure that I could get everything in my carry-on and that all my liquids and gels were acceptable, in the proper containers, and in that little quart-size Ziploc bag. I measured and re-measured the suitcase and I was okay for both airlines' requirements. Well, I made it throught the airport in Bamako. No surprise there...smile a lot and speak a little Bambara and you pretty much get what you want because Malians are fantastic :) Made it through Casablanca with no problems whatsoever. Now the toughy...Paris. But I made it all the way through customs with no problem. Well, actually it was too heavy, but I took my Bible and a pair of jeans out and put them in my "personal item" (purse) and we were back on track. THEN I'm about to set my foot on the airplane in Paris and the lady at the door makes me put my bag in that little cage that it has to fit in. Again, I had measured and re-measured my bag according to the measurements on the websites, but it wouldn't go in that little cage. So she took my bag. I put up no fight because she didn't speak much English and I don't speak much French or Spanish. I thought about pulling a Meet the Parents and telling her that the only way she was getting my bag would be if she pried it out of my dead, lifeless fingers...but I didn't. And instead of telling me I could get it in Madrid (my next stop) she told me I could get it in Athens (my final destination). At that point I pretty much knew I wouldn't be seeing my bag again for a while because that flight was a little delayed, making my layover in Madrid uncomfortably short.
And I was right. I arrived in Athens bagless, but still excited! The airline gave me a little toiletry bag (including a pair of undies made out of that gauzy, papery, bio-degradable stuff...bonus). So I wore the same clothes for a few days and a couple of the girls helped me out one day with other stuff to wear and I took my clothes to the laundromat. (I also bought some undies, but a store was hard to find and there weren't many English speakers around that day...made for some interesting pantomiming). And then after a few days my bag came! Just in time to go to Santorini.
The first full day we explored Athens. We went to the Acropolis of course and found some places to drink coffee and eat good food.
| Acropolis! |
| You can kind of see the monastery on top. |
| Here's one of the places we watched the sunset. |
| Korby, me, and Elizabeth at my favorite restaurant. |
| Everybody else was trying to decide what to do for dinner, but Elizabeth and I were having a photo shoot. |
| Donkey trip back up the hill. |
We arrived back in Athens the next morning, but couldn't check in to our hostel until later so we left our bags in the little storage area and set out to find breakfast (and coffee!). I realized that my flight left at 7 am the next morning...which meant I had to be at the airport at 5 am...which meant I'd have to leave the hostel at 4 am. So a plan was soon devised to take naps in the afternoon and go out that night and just hang out as much as we could before everyone left (we really like each other). I took a 3-hour nap and got up to go out to dinner. We ate dinner and then walked all over Athens. Now, most of the girls are used to wearing nothing but Chacos and we all had on different shoes so our feet were killing us. Then we went back to the hostel. I tried to sleep a little before I had to catch a taxi to the airport, but you know how when you're nervous that you're going to sleep through something, you can't sleep? So I just laid there. Then I got up and headed to the airport at 4 am. And that's where the rest of the adventure begins...
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