Life here can be frustrating. Most days I react to this fact with, well, frustration. I bite my lip and take deep breaths and try not to cuss people out for the ineptitude and general uselessness that is sometimes demonstrated. The generator repair man who doesn’t notice the glaring error in not reattaching the fuel line. The guard who decides to take some “me time” in the middle of the afternoon to wash his clothes, in our house, with our soap, when he should be, uh, guarding. Going back to the offices of the aid commission for the 17th time for a task that should have been completed in one visit.
And yet there are those days in the middle, that somehow the frustrating elements to daily life turn into amusing and almost lovely displays of randomness. We were attempting to get my country director and two volunteers out of our area on the UN flight the same day the arrived on a heli from the village- so it was a matter of exact timing and planning (neither of which have any place in the general vicinity of anywhere close to here)…so we had the guard call for a taxi and decided that we’d all go to try to catch them before they left to say goodbye and hand over last minute paperwork to be sent to the capital. Our national logistics worker piled in the little hatchback taxi, I crawled into the middle, and my roommate took the other side. One of the workers from the field in town on rest clambered into the front. The dilapidated taxi groaned and sputtered as it pulled away from our compound on the pitted dirt road- bottoming out at least twice on the huge holes before hitting the tarmac road. And so we creeped down the road and up over the mountain to the airport- our little rag tag family on an outing. It should have irked me that we still don’t have a car or that we were running around when I had work to do in the office, but, strangely, it didn’t. I found myself smiling a little as I stared out the window into the desert around me- the scrubby trees and bushes still green from the rainy season passed and the people on donkeys with loads of dried palm branches piled so high you wondered how the poor animal kept his balance. And it felt right. Good. Andrew Bird’s Scythian Empire kept playing in my head (random I know) and I was delighted- to be here in this strange and frustrating place with these sometimes strange and frustrating people in this horrid taxi at this moment.
I’m sure it had something to do with hot season winding down and sweat NOT rolling down my back like it usually does in situations like that one.
But mostly I was just thankful to have made it his far. And thankful that Jesus helps me push through the lip biting moments to the joy waiting on the other side.
Current Playlist:
Andrew Bird: “fingerlings”- the entire album is lovely but Scythian Empire, Dark Matter are quite excellent in my opinion.
Frou Frou: “It’s good to be in love”
Chris Tomlin: “God of this city”
Regina Specktor: “On the Radio”
Duffy: “Mercy”
Sanctus Real: “Face of Love”
Jason Upton: “I will wait for you”
Saturday, November 8, 2008
This just in...
Last year around this time, I hopped on a crazy ghetto domestic flight from the city I live in now to the capital, dropped off my things, and went to pick up my mom at the fancy international terminal (imagine crystal-ish chandeliers, air conditioning, and duty free shops 20 feet away from the dust and heat of the city- still astounds me with its randomness). It had been seven months since I had seen anyone from home and I will never forget peering through the grimey glass windows and seeing her little curly head and purple jumper power walking through the customs line to get to the exit. I had a volunteer from the states and my boss with me to help with her things (she brought four bags of American goodness), but there was that moment of unbelievable stillness, almost to the point of surreal, when I realized she was truly here- and she was here for me.
I dragged her around the city for the next two weeks: we cooked and laughed and bickered and watched movies and went through the glorious array of things she had brought from America (Bacon! Pepperoni! Tortillas!) . She in turn organized my kitchen, scoured the market (with me lagging slightly behind, her stamina is incredible) for material for curtains, sewed, bought me random African Tupperware, and generally dazzled my friends, colleagues and whoever she met with her southern charm.
She was, is, wonderful. Perhaps you'll meet her one day and say the same.
I dragged her around the city for the next two weeks: we cooked and laughed and bickered and watched movies and went through the glorious array of things she had brought from America (Bacon! Pepperoni! Tortillas!) . She in turn organized my kitchen, scoured the market (with me lagging slightly behind, her stamina is incredible) for material for curtains, sewed, bought me random African Tupperware, and generally dazzled my friends, colleagues and whoever she met with her southern charm.
She was, is, wonderful. Perhaps you'll meet her one day and say the same.
The reality of it...
When I began this blog a rather long time ago I had intended to carefully chronicle my time overseas- adding a delightful anecdote here, a heart-wrenching story there, and general wonderment throughout.
As you can see, this has not been the outcome.
I find I apologize more for NOT blogging than actual blog anything of substance.
So here I am, less than three months left here of what was to be two years of successful storying and very little show for it in the world on online record keeping but I am only a little sad, really. It’s been a bit busy around here.
Perhaps one day I’ll be a faithful blogmeister who thrills in updating this thing in a quality effort to keep the people in her life updated if they care to be. Until that day, we’ll just keep going. The two of you who read this and me.
I wonder what America will do to my writing habits. We find out soon enough!
The countdown:
10 days until my dad arrives
18 days until Thanksgiving (my favorite food day of the year: Turkey Dinner!)
47 days until Christmas
(something like) 80 days of contract remaining…and everything that comes with it.
It’s hard to believe most days. Some days it’s not hard at all.
I would like to write an emotional summary of the time I’ve spent here, how hard it will be to leave and say goodbye to all that has happened, all that I’ve seen, and how it’s changed my life. All those things are true…but I’m not quite ready to talk about it yet. Maybe in a little while. Or after a few weeks of staring at an ocean or a forest in America and letting it all settle in and sort a bit.
Until then…know I’m alive. And growing.
As you can see, this has not been the outcome.
I find I apologize more for NOT blogging than actual blog anything of substance.
So here I am, less than three months left here of what was to be two years of successful storying and very little show for it in the world on online record keeping but I am only a little sad, really. It’s been a bit busy around here.
Perhaps one day I’ll be a faithful blogmeister who thrills in updating this thing in a quality effort to keep the people in her life updated if they care to be. Until that day, we’ll just keep going. The two of you who read this and me.
I wonder what America will do to my writing habits. We find out soon enough!
The countdown:
10 days until my dad arrives
18 days until Thanksgiving (my favorite food day of the year: Turkey Dinner!)
47 days until Christmas
(something like) 80 days of contract remaining…and everything that comes with it.
It’s hard to believe most days. Some days it’s not hard at all.
I would like to write an emotional summary of the time I’ve spent here, how hard it will be to leave and say goodbye to all that has happened, all that I’ve seen, and how it’s changed my life. All those things are true…but I’m not quite ready to talk about it yet. Maybe in a little while. Or after a few weeks of staring at an ocean or a forest in America and letting it all settle in and sort a bit.
Until then…know I’m alive. And growing.
Thursday, September 18, 2008
since april....
Since it has been since April since I last updated this (I know, I know- no one cares)...I thought a numbers list was in order to catch up...
Number of times my guard called me outside to see the three tiniest cutest kittens I'd ever seen...1
Number of times I thought it would be great to show my roommates inside the compound a kitten...1
Number of times I corralled said kittens with the help of my guard and picked on up...1
Number of times the kitten I did catch bit me with a vengeance...1
Number of times I have contemplated where I went wrong in the decision making process...12560
Number of rabies shots given as a result of kitten bite...2
Number of times I have been reminded by others of the above experience when commenting on the cuteness of street animals I pass...4
Number of animals other than my own that I have touched since...0
Number of visits to America in June...1
Number of times I visited Chic-fil-A in that time...4
Number of times I was reminded of how great my friends and family at home are...103
Number of times I questioned the rightness of coming back to Africa...0
Number of planned trips to Ethiopia that leave tomorrow...1
Number of days I will be out of country...16
Number of countries I will visit...2 (ethiopia and zambia)
Number of wonders of the world I will witness...1 (Victoria Falls)
Number of old friends I will see...4 (Hey Helgrens!)
Number of new little friends I will meet...1 (Yay Lauren!)
Number of times I will think of you all...568 (at least)
Number of times my guard called me outside to see the three tiniest cutest kittens I'd ever seen...1
Number of times I thought it would be great to show my roommates inside the compound a kitten...1
Number of times I corralled said kittens with the help of my guard and picked on up...1
Number of times the kitten I did catch bit me with a vengeance...1
Number of times I have contemplated where I went wrong in the decision making process...12560
Number of rabies shots given as a result of kitten bite...2
Number of times I have been reminded by others of the above experience when commenting on the cuteness of street animals I pass...4
Number of animals other than my own that I have touched since...0
Number of visits to America in June...1
Number of times I visited Chic-fil-A in that time...4
Number of times I was reminded of how great my friends and family at home are...103
Number of times I questioned the rightness of coming back to Africa...0
Number of planned trips to Ethiopia that leave tomorrow...1
Number of days I will be out of country...16
Number of countries I will visit...2 (ethiopia and zambia)
Number of wonders of the world I will witness...1 (Victoria Falls)
Number of old friends I will see...4 (Hey Helgrens!)
Number of new little friends I will meet...1 (Yay Lauren!)
Number of times I will think of you all...568 (at least)
Friday, April 25, 2008
Rainday
Remember how in elementary school and middle school (and, let’s just be honest, college) the first snow day of the winter would come like a long awaited and much celebrated friend returned from a long journey in parts unknown. The night before your big test the air grows cold and fresh and you smell it coming and you know: tomorrow’s going to be a snow day. And so you wait and try not to look at the window too often but can’t really help it. When it finally comes, that first snow, life slows and we would alternate between running around in the snow outside and coming in to thaw and drink cocoa. My family used to watch the entire set of Anne of Green Gables on days like that.
And so it is here. Sort of. Where I live the sand and bleached dirt stretches for miles all around, small scrubby bushes and trees dotting the horizon in every direction. So, as you can imagine, we do not get much snow. But each year, at the moment when the heat and dust have grown so strong that we wonder if water even exists in other parts of the world…it rains. And the whole world changes. We stop and smell the dust settling and the rain covering everything. The traffic stops and the people run for cover and then just stay where they end up.
In a desert society, seasons revolve around the state of the rain. It is either Rainy Season or it’s Dry Season. There are no others. Dry season is hot and, well, dry. Rainy season is hot and humid. (In fairness, there are also two lesser seasons entitled Hot and Cool season. But they would be more accurately described as Very Hot Season and Hot Season)
Rain is talked of and rumored for weeks before it arrives. I have sat in NGO meetings each week for the past month and heard of how it rained in the outskirts of this town a few days ago and in this neighboring village last week… “it’s coming” they murmur to each other with a mixture of delight and foreboding in their expressions.
And last night…it came.
We awoke in the morning to a delightfully strong breeze and as I went about my morning routine I felt the first sprinkles of what I was sure would be an enormous rain storm. It grew heavier but then stopped abrubtly. Sort of like those mornings you wake to a slight covering of snow but the sun comes out and you realize it’s not enough to cancel school. The sun came out and dried the ground and the day continued as normal, only hotter and more humid than I though possible.
But as the sun set, the clouds returned, this time with thunder and lightening. And suddenly it was raining. A lot. To reach any other part of the compound, you must walk outside…and I found myself intentionally running from one room to another on made- up errands just so I could feel the rain and wind and stomp through the puddles created by the cracks and uneven places in the courtyard concrete. I couldn’t help but notice the others doing the same, wide smiles on our face. The night passed pleasantly in marathon games of cards and doing “nothing,” comments passed around that it was a perfect rainday.
Tomorrow we will have to deal with the problems and issues that arise from the glorious cool rain falling in sheets all around us. Water will fill the streets and overflow the creek beds that have served as trash dumps for the past months of dry season. Diseases like cholera, malaria, and dysentery will begin springing up in place of May flowers and we will go back to work with an entirely new set of problems to solve.
But for now, we will enjoy the cool rain on our face, and fall asleep to the sound of it pattering on the tin roof of our house- content as fourth graders after a long day of snowmen and hot cocoa.
And so it is here. Sort of. Where I live the sand and bleached dirt stretches for miles all around, small scrubby bushes and trees dotting the horizon in every direction. So, as you can imagine, we do not get much snow. But each year, at the moment when the heat and dust have grown so strong that we wonder if water even exists in other parts of the world…it rains. And the whole world changes. We stop and smell the dust settling and the rain covering everything. The traffic stops and the people run for cover and then just stay where they end up.
In a desert society, seasons revolve around the state of the rain. It is either Rainy Season or it’s Dry Season. There are no others. Dry season is hot and, well, dry. Rainy season is hot and humid. (In fairness, there are also two lesser seasons entitled Hot and Cool season. But they would be more accurately described as Very Hot Season and Hot Season)
Rain is talked of and rumored for weeks before it arrives. I have sat in NGO meetings each week for the past month and heard of how it rained in the outskirts of this town a few days ago and in this neighboring village last week… “it’s coming” they murmur to each other with a mixture of delight and foreboding in their expressions.
And last night…it came.
We awoke in the morning to a delightfully strong breeze and as I went about my morning routine I felt the first sprinkles of what I was sure would be an enormous rain storm. It grew heavier but then stopped abrubtly. Sort of like those mornings you wake to a slight covering of snow but the sun comes out and you realize it’s not enough to cancel school. The sun came out and dried the ground and the day continued as normal, only hotter and more humid than I though possible.
But as the sun set, the clouds returned, this time with thunder and lightening. And suddenly it was raining. A lot. To reach any other part of the compound, you must walk outside…and I found myself intentionally running from one room to another on made- up errands just so I could feel the rain and wind and stomp through the puddles created by the cracks and uneven places in the courtyard concrete. I couldn’t help but notice the others doing the same, wide smiles on our face. The night passed pleasantly in marathon games of cards and doing “nothing,” comments passed around that it was a perfect rainday.
Tomorrow we will have to deal with the problems and issues that arise from the glorious cool rain falling in sheets all around us. Water will fill the streets and overflow the creek beds that have served as trash dumps for the past months of dry season. Diseases like cholera, malaria, and dysentery will begin springing up in place of May flowers and we will go back to work with an entirely new set of problems to solve.
But for now, we will enjoy the cool rain on our face, and fall asleep to the sound of it pattering on the tin roof of our house- content as fourth graders after a long day of snowmen and hot cocoa.
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