The (2nd Annual) Village Experience

It's 3 o'clock in the afternoon on Saturday, February 1st; I stand amazed, watching my team move so efficiently.  It's "the Village Experience," but this part is very unlike my "village experience".  Hardly ever do things move so efficiently where I live in Guinea Bissau.  Everything is people/relationship oriented not event/task oriented.

Everything set up and food ready with time to spare.  The whole team gathers for prayer.  People arrive.  The fun begins for our (approximately) 200 guests (my fun started several weeks ago, planning for this event).

The invitation, designed by a talented support team member!

Guests were welcomed into a busy environment with Guinensi music, a bag of cashews, and a blurb about what to expect for the evening.

Early comers check out the silent auction items.

 The food team gets ready behind the scenes!

Look at those beautiful, happy faces midst slight chaos!  

T brings out the food to hungry guests.

Meanwhile, I enjoyed reconnecting with Bob and Anna Mae Weaver; Anna Mae is Beryl Forrester's sister (Beryl was the pioneer missionary of our mission in Catel).

I also enjoyed talking with retired East African missionary LeRoy Petersheim!

People of all ages enjoyed exploring the Education Stations. The stations included a tour of my house, explanation of cashew production/processing, what kind of food we eat and what's in our stores, what kinds of animals are found in Guinea Bissau, and a display on water.

The animal display.

There was also a dress up bin.  Looks like "Little I" found it!

"Little J" found it too!

Guests enjoy the juice bar, warga (local tea), food, and fellowship.

"Little C" enjoyed eating West African pumpkin stew over rice out of a communal bowl with his siblings and daddy.

I help "Little J" get his watermelon, banana, orange, and cantaloupe fruit salad. 

After everyone had their fill, and got their silent auction bids in for the MANY items we had for sale, the program started (followed by an engaging question and answer session).

A huge thank you to everyone who helped set up and coordinate, as well as to all our guests who came out! 

(Thank you also to my photographers: Floyd Huber and Juanita Huber)

-A-

Is life ever "normal"? Part 2

When a well-meaning welcomer heralds me with "It must be nice to be home", it catches me... every time.

Where is my home really?  Yes, my nuclear family is currently living in the states, and I definitely enjoy spending quality time with them, but I have a close-knit family on the other side of the Atlantic Ocean too.  It looks a little different, sure.  I have teammates and friends instead of brothers and sisters, but family none-the-less.

And though my skin color will always point out to Guinensis that I'm not native to Guinea Bissau, I fit in really well.  The culture feels comfortable to me.  Since being in the states, I have felt really disoriented not having face-to-face people interactions from sun up to sun down.

It's disappointing to me to find that a lot of people's "family time" is whittled down to several hours sitting next to each other in front of a screen.  Quality time (to me) looks more like hanging out or accomplishing a task together (I purposely didn't say "doing something together" for fear someone would argue that watching TV is doing something).  I don't know.  Maybe you've found a way to relationally engage the person you're sitting with while you're both holding iPhones, texting someone else.  I am not that talented.  Additionally, I find trying to keep up with people's conversations about trending TV shows that I've not watched utterly exhausting...  I actually didn't mean for this to be an anti-screen rant... I digress.

My cousin Amber and me at my grandma's house.

The disorienting experience of "where is home?" continues...
I find my state of disorientation is exaggerated on a Sunday morning - what to wear?  "Now, how could such a trivial matter send you into a state of bewilderment?" you ask.  Let me preface by saying that I was never super trendy.  I have my sisters to thank for anything remotely trendy in my wardrobe.

My dilemma on a Sunday morning becomes, "Do I wear what I'm comfortable in and stick out like a sore thumb or do I begin the arduous process of mixing and matching practically every article of clothing I own to find something considered 'acceptable' under the scrutiny of even amateur fashion police?"

What I would rather do, more than anything else, is to throw on a tank top, flip-flops, and a wrap-around skirt (which happens to be made of bright African fabric).  Not only is this an inappropriate choice of outfit for the "coldest temperatures of the decade" that we're experiencing right now, it screams "Hello!  I'm a missionary!" all over it.  When you want to fit in on so many levels, drawing that much attention to yourself doesn't really help.

The view looking out our back door towards our barn.  If you are like me and don a hoodie when the temps dip into the low 80's, this is cold... just saying.

Above all else though, I'm confused about how to live dependent on Jesus here in the states.  Does that sound weird for a missionary to say?  Don't put me on a pedestal - I'm human too.  Let me give you a few examples of what I mean.

I am usually reliant on God to allow me to sleep during the hot, sticky nights of the rainy/dry season transition months.  Here in the states, I live in a very comfortable climate-controlled house.

I am usually reliant on God for the availability of vegetables in the market.  On the other hand, I just ate a pack of baby carrots this morning... and there's more where that came from!

I am usually reliant on God for a semi-timely transportation vehicle that has at least a foot of space for me to sit on.  Contrastingly, I just jumped in the car and drove (with just me in the car and not me and 40 other people) to my dentist and eye doctor appointments today - without even praying about it.

Do you see what I mean?  I'm not turning to God for these small elements of life.  Things are so at my fingertips here that I have to mentally remind myself frequently, I am STILL fully reliant on God.

Back to the basics.

So... This is me trying to live life while I'm in the states.  I reflect back on my original question, "Is life ever 'normal'?"

Pressing on.

A

Is life ever "normal"?

I could go on and on writing under the title "Is life ever 'normal'?".  Seriously.  In fact, I might when I write my second post later today.

In the meantime, I thought I would let my readers (especially those who don't live in my area) a head's up as to why I am all of a sudden writing from the states.  Yup!  I'm currently writing from the comforts of our wood stove heated basement, and I feel like a piglet under a heat lamp - it's cold outside!

The following is a letter that was sent church family (written mid-December), but since many of you were praying for me during this time, I felt it appropriate to post it here.  Sorry.  No pictures.  You'll have to wait until post number 2 of the day.

How does it so often seem that things don’t go according to plan?  At least, with these sudden changes in plan, we have opportunities to practice flexibility, graciousness, and resiliency.

As many of you may have heard, my December did not exactly go as I would have planned it.  I owe it to you, the people who have my back stateside, to give you a few more details about what landed me in the states on medical leave.

Late November, I noticed a boil on my right shoulder.  I had experienced boils before during this past rainy season, and it is not an uncommon problem (locals and my teammates alike have struggled with boils as well).  I treated it like I had any other boil, with betadine, Neosporin, Band-Aids and hot compresses.  This one, however, was not going away.  After my shoulder had swelled up to a point that I lost arm mobility and I spiked a fever, I started on antibiotics. 

The next few days were a bit of a blur and filled with unmet expectations.  My teammates had taken me to a hospital in a nearby town where my friend is a doctor.  He drained it, did some blood tests, added some meds, and sent me home to recover.  When I was not recovering, my team decided to take me across the border into a town in Senegal, where I would have better access to medical facilities.  After spending over almost 2 hours draining my abscess, the doctor there told us that the infection was beyond him and we needed to go to the capital of Senegal (Dakar).  By this time, the infection had tunneled and was suspected to be septic. 

Thinking that I just needed a little time to rest, etc., I had already refused going to Ziguinchor (the town in Senegal just across the border).  I was absolutely adamant about not flying to Dakar.  Those who know me really well, know that I can be quite thick-headed (err…  stubborn) at times, and it was only because I did not really have a choice in the matter that I landed in Dakar.  I traveled with our team nurse and a retired missionary who acted as our translator (Senegal, unlike the former Portuguese-colonized Guinea Bissau, was a French territory, and therefore we needed to rely on someone else to help us get around since neither Delores or I speak French).

The night we landed in Dakar, the doctors operated – complete with anesthesia and everything.  They made a deep incision in an effort to get all the infection out.  Within 8 hours, I was in the OR again for a second surgery.  After 5 days in the hospital, I was released.  The doctor team was not as excited as I was at the prospect of me being able to go back to Guinea Bissau.  Though they promised to re-evaluate at my follow-up, I was advised not to leave Dakar (unless I was going to America) until my wound completely healed up because of the great risk of complication and re-infection (in addition to the lack of good medical facilities) in Guinea Bissau.  That could take 4-6 WEEKS!  There was no way I wanted to spend my birthday and Christmas away from family and friends (which includes teammates who feel like my family).

Talk started flying around about the possibility of me flying back with a work team who had been working in Catel (the village where I live) during the duration of my hospital stay.  I started praying that there would not be any tickets on that flight.  You see, because I fully expected to return the same day I left Catel,  I did not get to say goodbye to any friends, wrap up any projects, or sort through my stuff to get ready for my furlough (scheduled to start January 9^th).  There was a lot that I needed to process yet.  During a phone conversation with my regional director, I was handed a note that said there was a seat on the flight and I could even go all the way to Harrisburg.  Though I had been sure that I was not going back to America, the thought had entered my mind that if there did end up being a seat on the plane, God was probably preparing a way for me to go.

Here I am.  Almost a week after being in the states.  I am healing slowly-by-slowly and regaining strength day by day.  Only after I got here did I realize how seriously sick I actually was.  Because of the swelling and spread of infection, my airway was very close to being blocked.  Since being back, I have also seen my open incision for the first time (which is nasty – I’ll spare you the details).  I am thankful to God for sparing my life and for the opportunity I have to not only be near to very good medical facilities, but to be able to spend my birthday and Christmas with my family. 

No, things did not happen as I would have preferred them to.  Goodbyes to my Guinea Bissau friends were said over Skype and static-y phone calls.  My team had to pack up my room and send me my suitcase to fly back to the states.  I wasn’t expecting to be back for another month, so gifts weren’t bought, etc.  BUT, I have much to be thankful for!

I will resume my previously scheduled furlough activities in early-mid January, and will be doing speaking engagements as well as catching up with supporters until late February.  If all goes according to plan (do things ever go according to plan?) and funds come in on time, I will be heading back to Guinea Bissau in early March for another two years. 

I pray that as we turn our focus back to work and "normal life", that we don’t lose sight of the genuine lifestyle of Christmas.  Of course I don’t mean the busyness, the decorations, the gifts or the family dinners… those are the “extras” that we’ve tacked onto Christmas.  What I mean is the daily lifestyle of celebration – we can be freed because “Though he [Jesus] was God, he did not think of equality with God as something to cling to.  Instead, he gave up his divine privileges; he took the humble position of a slave and was born as a human being.  When he appeared in human form, he humbled himself in obedience to God and died a criminal’s death on a cross.” (Philippians 2:6-8 NLT, emphasis mine)


Blessings!

A

Gifts

God gives us small gifts everyday.  Do you recognize them?  For me, life can get so busy that the gifts just pass me by, and I miss out on them.

Yesterday though, I enjoyed having three 4-6 year olds braid my hair.  It was pretty awesome.

Mbale, Sadju, and Micah braiding my hair

The end product (notice the little pink butterfly barrette)!

Me with one of my hairdressers, MBale.

Thank you, God, for little girls!

"God had finished His work, so He rested"

Coming from a cold climate culture, it’s very easy to say that we live in an action-oriented world.  Even in a warm climate culture [to understand a bit more about cold/warm climate cultures, see this link: http://writing.colostate.edu/guides/teaching/esl/cultural.cfm], there’s always someone (or something) who needs your attention.  I might be weeding my garden when a friend comes to hang out… People come selling bananas at our doorstep at 7 am, and we often have people hanging out at our house late at night.  There is a near steady stream of people coming and going from the mission house.  Quiet/alone time is very difficult to come by…. Nearly impossible, actually.  I have admittedly shut myself up in my room before and pretended that I wasn’t at home, but people are persistent – let me tell you!

The only un-interrupted rest I get is when I actually get away. So, that’s what I’m doing this weekend.  I canceled English class, excused myself from worship practice, sacrificed hearing a sermon in English on Sunday (Mike’s preaching, and it’s being translated), and said, “Peace out!  I’ll be home to make supper Sunday night!”

Now, I’m sitting here in my little hotel room trying to figure out what it actually means to “rest.”

I know in my head that rest is important… to avoid burn out and stuff.  I often feel like a weakling though, admitting that I need rest every once and a while.  I went on a Scripture hunt to define what it meant to take rest.  Here are my findings (likely not an exhaustive list, but a start).

• By resting, I am imitating God.  After all, the God of the universe rested (not like He needed it, but He rested nonetheless). Genesis 2:2-3
• Rest means stop doing and just being. Genesis 2:2-3
• It’s a commandment, and focuses us back to the original reason why we were created… to give God glory. Exodus 20:8-11
• God called the Israelites to leave their land fallow (un-worked) every 7^th year, so during the 7^th year, when they had no harvest, they needed to rely on God to have provided enough crops in previous years (Leviticus 25:20-22).  Rest is reliance on God
• When we are letting God be our Shepherd, He makes us lie down in green pastures and leads us beside peaceful streams and restores our souls. Psalm 23
• Rest is living in the shelter of the Most High and seeking refuge in His presence. Psalm 91:1
• Rest is trusting in God’s provisions. Psalm 127:2
• I should not feel overwhelmed if I am constantly handing my life over to Jesus.  Matthew 11:28-30
• Rest is to be at peace with God now and for eternity.  In true rest, creation is being renewed and restored.  It is also believing in God’s good and perfect work in us.  Hebrews 4

I came to the conclusion that “resting” is dwelling in my Maker’s presence and allowing Him to restore my soul.  It involves letting go…. To stop doing, and just be with my Master… Refocusing and giving Him the glory.  Yes and Amen.

And.... just because I haven't posted a picture in a while, here is me "resting" in my hammock.  Yes folks, that's a banana tree in the background. :) 

-A-

On Education and Politics

On Education:

I continue to teach English in the church here every Monday, Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday.  I have discovered a HUGE love of teaching within me.  I love coming up with creative teaching tactics to engage my multi-age, multi-level class.  The class has dwindled a bit from its initial 35issh students because of private schools in Guinea Bissau starting (there are no private schools in our village, so people move far and wide to be able to attend private school).  The students who are left have shown a very remarkable work ethic and drive to learn.  

I recently assigned a group project (writing a newspaper) to help them to practice past and future tenses.  I fully expected them to rebel.  Afterall, writing a short article would be a very stretching exercise for some of them.   Additionally, it is a free class… they technically get no grade and have nothing invested in it, so why “waste” the extra time in doing something that isn’t completely necessary (especially considering that each of them keeps a very busy schedule).  To my surprise, they were very eager to show off to me what they’ve learned and our class paper will be published next week – complete with a Sports, a Religion, a Local News, and an Opinions Section.

My students are pretty awesome!

You may have noticed that I mentioned the private schools have started, but made no mention of the state (public) schools.  That’s because they haven’t started yet.  The teachers are currently on strike through December because the government refuses to pay them. 

It is a very sorry situation indeed as families of teachers are starving from no income, and as the young brains of Guinea Bissau are hungry for knowledge.  The last school year was almost completely thrown out for the same reason – too many school days missed due to teacher strikes.

Imagine being a student here in Guinea Bissau.  You want to learn so badly to be able to further yourself and maybe get a decent job eventually.  Your family doesn’t have enough money to send you to private school, and so you are forced to wait while your government figures out what/how they are going to pay the teachers.  It’s because of these sorts of situations (and others) that it is completely normal here for a 23-year-old to be studying 9^th grade, or to have simply put school on a “long pause” while they work to get enough money to study somewhere else.

On Politics:

Politics is something that I absolutely never involved myself in.  Firstly, they were something that I was simply not interested in, but secondly, I have never voted and therefore have absolutely no excuse to complain about how things are in government because I did not do anything to make it be otherwise.  I know in my circles where I grew up, the concept of voting is debated.  My intent with this blog post is not to start a political debate (please!), but to shed some light on the politics of the country in which I currently live.

The first election in Guinea Bissau after the coup in April of 2012 [for more information on the coup, click on this link http://www.aljazeera.com/news/africa/2012/04/2012413232852260513.html] is to happen in November.  Interestingly enough, voter registration has not even started yet, so people are starting to doubt that it will happen on time.

1 Timothy 2:2 tells us to pray for people in authority [to read this passage, visit this link: http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=1+Timothy+2&version=NIV].  On our team here, we are praying for a just, intelligent and compassionate president for the Guinensi people.  Elections are usually very…. Well… “political” for lack of a better word.  A lot hangs on what tribe you are from, how much power you demonstrate, who you know, etc.  I’ve been told that very high up leaders of Guinea Bissau have the education up to 4^th grade, and many have not finished high school.

Join with us in praying (to a God who knows better than we do what Guinea Bissau needs) for good leadership that will bring change and development for Guinea Bissau! 

Hard-Knock Life....?

After another writing hiatus, I'm about to overwhelm you all with some thoughts... the first of three blogs to be posted today. - A

I really have it easy here.  “Are you crazy, women?”  Some people might say, “Pit latrines, no running water, and limited electricity are not elements of an ‘easy’ life.”  To you doubters, I respond, “It’s all about perspective.”

Sure, I may have involuntarily become a vegetarian because of the diet here, I may still be living out of a suitcase because wood is so expensive (and have therefore not yet bought a wardrobe), and rain water showers may be ice-cold, but if that’s all I have to complain about, what a life I live!  I do not face daily government persecution.  I do not face heavy persecution from other religious groups on a daily basis, and  the path has already been cleared for me as far as evangelism goes among the people groups I work with (figuratively and literally… however pot-holey the roads actually are).

It’s not like this all around the world, and it didn't even used to be like this in Guinea Bissau.  I am currently reading a book called Lus Numia na Sukuru about the history of the evangelical church in Guinea Bissau from its foundation in 1940 until Guinea Bissau’s independence in 1974.  If it wasn't written in Portuguese Creole, I would definitely recommend it to all of you, however, I imagine that most of my readers are not fluent in Creole. J

The story shares of the trials, journeys, and exciting times of the (then) single missionary Bessie Fricker.  In 1940, Guinea Bissau was still under Portuguese rule and Catholicism was the main religion.  The sending mission board was told by the government that “there were enough Priests already in Guinea Bissau to satisfy the spiritual wants of the Guinensi people,” and they therefore rejected Bessie’s application to enter Guinea Bissau. 

Bessie was strong in prayer in the face of sickness, religious persecution, and “sorry, I can’t help you” ’s.  Today, the Evangelical church of Guinea Bissau, though centralized in Bissau, is wide-spread, locally led, and full of sincere believers in Jesus. Whooo God!