i love hearing about normal things. i love hearing about how you carved 6 pumpkins for halloween. i love hearing about the cute guy you saw at safeway. i love hearing about the crafts you made with your kids, and the birthday cake for your church function. i love hearing about snow, and how many times you had to shovel it. i love hearing about trips to the shopping mall, or the bad haircut you just got.
and since i love hearing about your normal stuff, i will tell you about my normal stuff. i might live on a different continent than most of the readers, and granted a few details of my life are different, but i still do normal stuff.
i still press my snooze button at least 4 times before i get out of bed. i still make coffee in my french press for breakfast. i eat muesli or oatmeal for breakfast. i take a "shower" in the morning, with the only difference being that i have to heat my water with a coil and my shower head is my hand and a bowl.
i did laundry this morning. only this time, it took 2 hours to wash my underpants, one pair of jeans, two pairs of pajamas, a sheet and a towel. i hung them outside to dry before going to work.
i zap my lunch in a microwave and eat mr. noodles (ramen) because i am too lazy to cook. i check facebook after work to see what my friends are up to around the world. then i ironed all my clothes because i am scared of mango bugs laying their eggs in my clothes. i listened to emmylou harris while ironing.
when i am bored and/or need to procrastinate on the long list of things i have to do, i pop a dvd into my computer and watch ugly betty or scrubs. the nice thing is there are no commercials!
i bought some flashing christmas lights and strung them around my living room window. i bop around the house to boney m's version of "feliz navidad." i am too cheap to buy an ugly plastic tree, but i have an angel ornament made out of a piece of beer can (the irony!) and an ornament a friend sent me from canada. on my fireplace mantles are two "racing grannies" dressed up like myself and a friend. when i feel homesick, i wind them up and watch them hobble across the mantle with their walkers.
i don't have to shovel snow or mow the lawn for that matter. i have several built in lawnmowers and fertilizers. my neighbours sheep come over and do the job for me. my grass is nice and short and i haven't busted a sweat for it. when i start a garden i will have to put a fence around it to keep them out. but that is a small sacrifice for free lawn moving.
i live in a 3 bedroom house and i don't like cleaning it! nothing new there!! sometimes i don't have running water, but i have rain water outside that does the trick.
i have a sewing machine, and if i ever get around to it, i want to start quilting again.
i still have the notion that i should check my messages every time i walk in the front door even though i don't have a landline. i have finally figured out most of my cell phone although i still jump a mile when it vibrates.
i do normal stuff. i procrastinate, i go for walks, i go to supermarkets and shopping malls. i look at cute boys (well, once in awhile) and wonder if they look back. i do normal stuff. i will tell you my normal stuff if you tell me yours.
Wednesday, December 19, 2007
vehicular guardian angels
over the past year some good friends and colleagues have given me "guardian angel" pins and momentos, reminding me that i am being watched over. us dutch reformed people don't talk about guardian angels much, so i used to think of them more as a nice symbolic gesture.
i have become quite convinced as of late, that there really are guardian angels, and that i personally employ an entire fleet of them. i like to think of them as my vehicular guardian angels. in the past i have engaged myself in some activities that i thought were "risky" such as paragliding lessons, zip-lining in costa rica, and bombing down the sides of mountains on mountain bikes. i now think these activities are fairly tame compared to stepping foot on a road here in kenya.
i look back in astonishment and a bit of laughter at the "rides" i have experienced...
*hitched a ride in the back of a pickup, had to sit on bags of cement and wedge my legs between metal gates. i got a free ride for about 500 metres and several bloody scratches on my legs.
*hitched a ride in the back of a pickup into town. this time i got to sit all the way on the floor. good thing too, because the driver sped with a lead foot all the way to town.
*hitched a ride in the cab of a dump truck driving past my village. i sat between three men who all just sat and grinned at me. when i looked over at the steering wheel i noticed that in the place where the turn signal should be, uncoated wires were sticking out of the steering column. i grinned back and prayed the driver would not electrocute himself.
*rode on the trailer of my kenyan brothers tractor to the highway. i was a new colour on arrival as i was completely covered in red dust.
*caught a ride on the back of a pickup, but as it was a school bus with 30 children standing in the back, myself and the school bus attendant had to stand on the bumper and hang onto an overhead bar while flying through the countryside. i prayed to be knocked unconcious right away so i wouldn't feel the pain when i fell!
*hired a cab from town to the village although the car looked a little worse for wear. the driver assured me it ran well. while driving on the dirt road home, the keys actually fell out of the ignition while the car was moving! that was a new one. the car stalled twice, the driver had to get out and fiddle around with unknown car parts to get it started again.
*the vehicle for the community program is an 1986 isuzu trooper. it still runs... kind of. to get it out of the garage, i usually have to pop the hood and jiggle the battery connections. we used to have to turn it off to switch into first gear and reverse. while it was running we only had second and fourth gears. that part is now fixed, but i still have to jiggle the battery wires.
*the matatu ride i described when i first arrived was tame and safe by comparison to taking matatus up-country. due to lax (no) enforcement of laws, i am usually happy if the doors close. one conductor put so many people on that people's bums blocked the sliding door from shutting. last weekend, the conductor stuffed 25 people into a matatu. for reference, a matatu is roughly the size of large mini-van. i sternly asked him if he was wanting to be in the next days newspaper under the headline "25 people die in matatu crash." he laughed but i was not amused.
overall, i am so fortunate and grateful that i am still in one piece and have not suffered any major harm. i did recently enroll in the "flying doctors" service however! i am entitled to one flight evacuation per year!
january will bring motorcycle lessons so that i can get my kenyan license. i look forward to the ability to control my own mode of transportation! i am also getting a decent mountain bike that i hope will serve me well in this back country terrain. but i will try not to test the fleet of angels any further than necessary:-) they are already working overtime!
i have become quite convinced as of late, that there really are guardian angels, and that i personally employ an entire fleet of them. i like to think of them as my vehicular guardian angels. in the past i have engaged myself in some activities that i thought were "risky" such as paragliding lessons, zip-lining in costa rica, and bombing down the sides of mountains on mountain bikes. i now think these activities are fairly tame compared to stepping foot on a road here in kenya.
i look back in astonishment and a bit of laughter at the "rides" i have experienced...
*hitched a ride in the back of a pickup, had to sit on bags of cement and wedge my legs between metal gates. i got a free ride for about 500 metres and several bloody scratches on my legs.
*hitched a ride in the back of a pickup into town. this time i got to sit all the way on the floor. good thing too, because the driver sped with a lead foot all the way to town.
*hitched a ride in the cab of a dump truck driving past my village. i sat between three men who all just sat and grinned at me. when i looked over at the steering wheel i noticed that in the place where the turn signal should be, uncoated wires were sticking out of the steering column. i grinned back and prayed the driver would not electrocute himself.
*rode on the trailer of my kenyan brothers tractor to the highway. i was a new colour on arrival as i was completely covered in red dust.
*caught a ride on the back of a pickup, but as it was a school bus with 30 children standing in the back, myself and the school bus attendant had to stand on the bumper and hang onto an overhead bar while flying through the countryside. i prayed to be knocked unconcious right away so i wouldn't feel the pain when i fell!
*hired a cab from town to the village although the car looked a little worse for wear. the driver assured me it ran well. while driving on the dirt road home, the keys actually fell out of the ignition while the car was moving! that was a new one. the car stalled twice, the driver had to get out and fiddle around with unknown car parts to get it started again.
*the vehicle for the community program is an 1986 isuzu trooper. it still runs... kind of. to get it out of the garage, i usually have to pop the hood and jiggle the battery connections. we used to have to turn it off to switch into first gear and reverse. while it was running we only had second and fourth gears. that part is now fixed, but i still have to jiggle the battery wires.
*the matatu ride i described when i first arrived was tame and safe by comparison to taking matatus up-country. due to lax (no) enforcement of laws, i am usually happy if the doors close. one conductor put so many people on that people's bums blocked the sliding door from shutting. last weekend, the conductor stuffed 25 people into a matatu. for reference, a matatu is roughly the size of large mini-van. i sternly asked him if he was wanting to be in the next days newspaper under the headline "25 people die in matatu crash." he laughed but i was not amused.
overall, i am so fortunate and grateful that i am still in one piece and have not suffered any major harm. i did recently enroll in the "flying doctors" service however! i am entitled to one flight evacuation per year!
january will bring motorcycle lessons so that i can get my kenyan license. i look forward to the ability to control my own mode of transportation! i am also getting a decent mountain bike that i hope will serve me well in this back country terrain. but i will try not to test the fleet of angels any further than necessary:-) they are already working overtime!
Saturday, December 15, 2007
glue boys & child soldiers
Ishmael Beah is a former child solider from Sierra Leone. He wrote a powerful book called "a long way gone: memoirs of a boy soldier" which I bought and read in one day this past summer. Amazing and disturbing book. I recommend it.
It has helped me to have more empathy for all the glue sniffing boys that roam the streets of any city here in Kenya. They are boys, who through no fault of their own, have become drug addicts as early as age five. They steal, harass, and sing songs off-pitch when they are high - but they are boys, they are someone's son, they are desperate, they are hungry and they are alone. I don't know how they got to where they are, but most 7 year olds don't go looking to do drugs, or to become soldiers.
I just found out from a friend's facebook wall that Ishmael Beah will speaking at one of my alma mater's (Calvin College) in January during the "January Series". January 11, 2008 to be specific. If you live in Grand Rapids or anywhere near it (to me "near" is about a 5 hour driving distance), I highly recommend you go see this guy speak. It is free, but I imagine you will have to line up for this one!
So, if you can, I highly recommend going to see Ishmael speak. I doubt you would regret it.
http://www.calvin.edu/january/2008/
It has helped me to have more empathy for all the glue sniffing boys that roam the streets of any city here in Kenya. They are boys, who through no fault of their own, have become drug addicts as early as age five. They steal, harass, and sing songs off-pitch when they are high - but they are boys, they are someone's son, they are desperate, they are hungry and they are alone. I don't know how they got to where they are, but most 7 year olds don't go looking to do drugs, or to become soldiers.
I just found out from a friend's facebook wall that Ishmael Beah will speaking at one of my alma mater's (Calvin College) in January during the "January Series". January 11, 2008 to be specific. If you live in Grand Rapids or anywhere near it (to me "near" is about a 5 hour driving distance), I highly recommend you go see this guy speak. It is free, but I imagine you will have to line up for this one!
So, if you can, I highly recommend going to see Ishmael speak. I doubt you would regret it.
http://www.calvin.edu/january/2008/
Tuesday, December 11, 2007
heart in a headlock
i've been addicted to imogen heap lately - listening to her music again and again. the title track from one of her albums is "heart in a headlock" and while jogging down a dusty dirt road near my house, i realized this a perfect diagnosis for my internal chest pain.
many days, as i meet people in the village and listen to their stories, a tight, suffocating sensation develops in my chest. a single mother with 4 children, ostracized from the family, without food, water, firewood, or even a toilet, sits coughing on the ground describing her desperate living situation. headlock tightens. but i learn her name is grace, and then she smiles and laughs at a joke. the headlock loosens.
a grandmother, close to 75 years old, finds herself raising 10 grandchildren. some are as young as 2 years old. all of her children have died. she should be resting, her children caring for her. but she has no choice, she must now clothe and feed hungry mouths. headlock tightens. she shows me around her farm full of corn, bananas, passion fruit, and maize. she is able to earn enough money to send her grandchildren to school. the headlock loosens.
i meet a man named Joseph at the World AIDS day planning meeting. he tells me that less than five years ago he laid in a hospital bed weighing 23kg (just over 50 lbs) with a CD4 count of 7 (normal is in the thousands). he was nearly dead. headlock tightens. he was started on ARV's, now weighs 50kg and has a CD4 count of 700. he became a community health educator and started his own beadwork business that now employs 10 other people, all of whom are HIV+. the headlock loosens.
while waiting for a friend downtown one day, i witness an incredible act of violence against another person. headlock tightens, this time near strangulation. i ask my friends to pray. they do and share their own struggles. i feel connected even though we are far away. the headlock loosens.
injustice and violence tighten the grip, grace and love loosen the grip.
my heart is in a headlock.
many days, as i meet people in the village and listen to their stories, a tight, suffocating sensation develops in my chest. a single mother with 4 children, ostracized from the family, without food, water, firewood, or even a toilet, sits coughing on the ground describing her desperate living situation. headlock tightens. but i learn her name is grace, and then she smiles and laughs at a joke. the headlock loosens.
a grandmother, close to 75 years old, finds herself raising 10 grandchildren. some are as young as 2 years old. all of her children have died. she should be resting, her children caring for her. but she has no choice, she must now clothe and feed hungry mouths. headlock tightens. she shows me around her farm full of corn, bananas, passion fruit, and maize. she is able to earn enough money to send her grandchildren to school. the headlock loosens.
i meet a man named Joseph at the World AIDS day planning meeting. he tells me that less than five years ago he laid in a hospital bed weighing 23kg (just over 50 lbs) with a CD4 count of 7 (normal is in the thousands). he was nearly dead. headlock tightens. he was started on ARV's, now weighs 50kg and has a CD4 count of 700. he became a community health educator and started his own beadwork business that now employs 10 other people, all of whom are HIV+. the headlock loosens.
while waiting for a friend downtown one day, i witness an incredible act of violence against another person. headlock tightens, this time near strangulation. i ask my friends to pray. they do and share their own struggles. i feel connected even though we are far away. the headlock loosens.
injustice and violence tighten the grip, grace and love loosen the grip.
my heart is in a headlock.
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