Wow. Wow. Wow. We're just back from CCO (Cross-Cultural Orientation) in Colorado Springs and I just want to get on the trampoline outside and spring myself right over to Dar. I feel like I could do it, but we still need a little time to finish raising support (we're at the 2/3 mark at the moment, but hopefully that rises quickly!) and deal with the diminishing stacks of stuff in our living area.
Len and I were thanking God yesterday for the gift of having to liquidate our assets. While we were in Colorado, the kids stayed with some dear friends in Minnesota who live very simply, on less than many pay in taxes each year, but they do it beautifully. Their home radiates peace, love, joy and when you go in you want to stay. They have learned discipline and patience through their lifestyle. And we want that. It isn't something you can buy from Pottery Barn. Living simply takes time and practice and patience; we have a long way to go. But simplifying our belongings is a start. And we wouldn't have de-stuffed our life if not for this call. So we are thankful. This is liberating stuff!
CCO was also a reminder of the rock stars of ministry we have the privilege to work beside in Africa. The Stantons, from the UK, met while spending a summer educating Africans about HIV/AIDS while traveling around living in tents. They are dynamic, hilarious, and deep. The dynamic Fuentes duo features Gustavo from Guatemala and Beatriz from Brazil; they have enjoyed life in the US for years but what they are really passionate about are the people of Mozambique. Beatriz is a masterful artist whose love of people makes her absolutely glow. They are wise and energized to get back to Mozambique after being here for training!
Of course, the Larmeys, who have pioneered YL in various African nations, are amazing and we are eager to join them in Dar. One of their great victories in Africa has been putting together a Senior African Leadership Team, men and women who love people, love their respective countries, and love Africa. The African staff and volunteers are some of the most well read, wise and warm people I have ever met or heard of. We have so much to learn from them, and I pray we are able to assist them adequately.
More stories to come soon; just wanted to update a little about our comings and goings recently, and thank everyone for support of every kind that has been offered this last month! :)
Tuesday, January 12, 2010
Tuesday, December 8, 2009
Selling Our House? No Worries!
I've been so busy enjoying life that I have neglected to keep you updated about all the blessings. Here is a brief review:
First, we sold our home! Now, we had talked about selling it as early as February, when we went public with our decision to move, but had been hoping to sell it to someone we knew. Through the generosity of friends, we were able to move into another home and leave ours staged for showing, which is much better than trying to get two children and a dog out of the house, clean said house, and make it look like nobody lives there in 20 minutes when someone calls and wants to look at it.
But about these homebuyers...they wrote us a very kind letter about how much they love our home and they have been looking for awhile but knew as soon as they saw ours that it was no coincidence we were selling what they were looking for. Their financing appears secure, they want to close next week, and they want to purchase some of our furniture. Thank you, God!
Another huge advantage to living in this temporary home is that we have seen some of the potential hurdles we will face when moving the kids to Africa. Moving is stressful on any family, and add in Ru-baby's ASD issues (one of which is that transitions are especially difficult for her) and you have a lot of fun for everyone.
One (now) funny example is that we are all sleeping in one room, despite having four beds to choose from...remember my post a few months ago about how done I was with co-sleeping? Well, not anymore. We have been sleeping in the same room since September, often in the same bed. And we have really grown to like this arrangement. Nothing sweeter than coming to bed and seeing your babies' peaceful faces as they dream. Last night they slept on the floor together by our bed. They really do have a calming effect on each other. Except when they don't.
Another good thing about this interim move is the ability to see opportunities for better organization (translate: how to cram your stuff into a smaller space than you had before). Better to work through this issue now while we have access to organizational tools, right? And we have pared down our belongings further, realizing that you really DON'T need four pairs of jeans. But we are learning to live in a smaller space, and in a different space than we are used to, and I am hopeful that this will help reduce the stress of the many changes awaiting us in Africa, which I'm sure I cannot even imagine.
When we put our house on the market (it was only listed for about a month!), I knew that it was in God's care. People told us that houses don't sell this time of the year, they don't sell in this market, blah, blah, blah. They were well-meaning people, but they didn't understand that God had this covered. And He would still have had it covered if the house didn't sell for a year. So much of this process is beyond my ability to control - it's better to leave it to someone who can move mountains. Or houses in a bad economy during the holidays.
First, we sold our home! Now, we had talked about selling it as early as February, when we went public with our decision to move, but had been hoping to sell it to someone we knew. Through the generosity of friends, we were able to move into another home and leave ours staged for showing, which is much better than trying to get two children and a dog out of the house, clean said house, and make it look like nobody lives there in 20 minutes when someone calls and wants to look at it.
But about these homebuyers...they wrote us a very kind letter about how much they love our home and they have been looking for awhile but knew as soon as they saw ours that it was no coincidence we were selling what they were looking for. Their financing appears secure, they want to close next week, and they want to purchase some of our furniture. Thank you, God!
Another huge advantage to living in this temporary home is that we have seen some of the potential hurdles we will face when moving the kids to Africa. Moving is stressful on any family, and add in Ru-baby's ASD issues (one of which is that transitions are especially difficult for her) and you have a lot of fun for everyone.
One (now) funny example is that we are all sleeping in one room, despite having four beds to choose from...remember my post a few months ago about how done I was with co-sleeping? Well, not anymore. We have been sleeping in the same room since September, often in the same bed. And we have really grown to like this arrangement. Nothing sweeter than coming to bed and seeing your babies' peaceful faces as they dream. Last night they slept on the floor together by our bed. They really do have a calming effect on each other. Except when they don't.
Another good thing about this interim move is the ability to see opportunities for better organization (translate: how to cram your stuff into a smaller space than you had before). Better to work through this issue now while we have access to organizational tools, right? And we have pared down our belongings further, realizing that you really DON'T need four pairs of jeans. But we are learning to live in a smaller space, and in a different space than we are used to, and I am hopeful that this will help reduce the stress of the many changes awaiting us in Africa, which I'm sure I cannot even imagine.
When we put our house on the market (it was only listed for about a month!), I knew that it was in God's care. People told us that houses don't sell this time of the year, they don't sell in this market, blah, blah, blah. They were well-meaning people, but they didn't understand that God had this covered. And He would still have had it covered if the house didn't sell for a year. So much of this process is beyond my ability to control - it's better to leave it to someone who can move mountains. Or houses in a bad economy during the holidays.
Saturday, November 14, 2009
Crunchy Coffeecake Recipe
Well, my gluten-free frustrations always give way to a renewed energy for making GFCF meals my family will rave over, and this morning brought new success.
This coffeecake recipe comes from Lisa Lewis' cookbook Special Diets for Special Kids - Two and it was created by Sue Crosby, creator of the wonderful GFCF Quickie Baking Mix. This cookbook and its predecessor have a wealth of information on the science of this diet, research material, substitution information and tips on helping kids try new foods. But honestly, I have had no trouble getting my kids to try any of these delicious treats. And I'm learning a lot of new GFCF baking tricks in the process.
I used DariFree for the milk, and Bob's GF Baking Mix (basically 4-bean flour) for the flour. This is DELICIOUS!
Ingredients
Batter
1 beaten egg (or egg replacer)
1/2 cup GFCF milk
1 cup GFCF flour
1 teaspoon xanthan gum
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/2 cup sugar
2 tablespoons safflower oil (I used canola and it was fine)
2 teaspoons GFCF baking powder
Topping
1/4 cup brown sugar
1 tablespoon tapioca starch
1/4 cup chopped nuts (I omit these)
1 teaspoon cinnamon
1 tablespoon GFCF margarine, melted
Beat batter ingredients together until smooth. Pour into a greased 8x8x2 inch pan. Mix topping ingredients and sprinkle over top of batter. Bake at 375 degrees for 20-25 minutes. Toothpick in center should pull out clean when done.
This coffeecake recipe comes from Lisa Lewis' cookbook Special Diets for Special Kids - Two and it was created by Sue Crosby, creator of the wonderful GFCF Quickie Baking Mix. This cookbook and its predecessor have a wealth of information on the science of this diet, research material, substitution information and tips on helping kids try new foods. But honestly, I have had no trouble getting my kids to try any of these delicious treats. And I'm learning a lot of new GFCF baking tricks in the process.
I used DariFree for the milk, and Bob's GF Baking Mix (basically 4-bean flour) for the flour. This is DELICIOUS!
Ingredients
Batter
1 beaten egg (or egg replacer)
1/2 cup GFCF milk
1 cup GFCF flour
1 teaspoon xanthan gum
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/2 cup sugar
2 tablespoons safflower oil (I used canola and it was fine)
2 teaspoons GFCF baking powder
Topping
1/4 cup brown sugar
1 tablespoon tapioca starch
1/4 cup chopped nuts (I omit these)
1 teaspoon cinnamon
1 tablespoon GFCF margarine, melted
Beat batter ingredients together until smooth. Pour into a greased 8x8x2 inch pan. Mix topping ingredients and sprinkle over top of batter. Bake at 375 degrees for 20-25 minutes. Toothpick in center should pull out clean when done.
Tuesday, November 3, 2009
Gluten-Free Dreams
A warning to many of you: this is a part of my life that may be foreign to you. I am not writing this to drum up sympathy in any way. Really, it is more of a vent over my good intentions gone wrong.
My daughter is four years old and was diagnosed with autism over two years ago, several months after suffering an immediate regression after receiving a flu shot and Hepatitis A shot at her 18 month doctor visit.
After some time, and months of rejecting the idea, we began an experiment into diet: a gluten-free, casein-free adventure that seemed daunting at first. Cutting out wheat, oats, rye, barley, and all dairy products except eggs took getting used to, especially for this comfort cook who loves sauces, gravy and cheese in almost every dish. We had already cut out artificial colors and additives, and for a few months the world looked dreary. Would we ever eat delicious food again?
If you are curious about this diet, you can look up 'leaky gut syndrome' and find oodles of information on the theory behind this approach. We approached the diet head-on, starting the day after Ruby's third birthday party. No more macaroni and cheese. Milk and bread - out. Those first months were rough at times as we held our ground and learned which of these new, wheat-less breads tasted good to us (turns out, none of the pre-made ones really did!). But we stuck with it, and saw noticeable improvement in Ru-baby's eye contact and responsiveness after just a month (which I later learned is about the time it takes for dairy products to exit the body entirely). And along the way, we were discovering treasures like Anna's Bread Mixes and Namaste Foods Fudge Brownie Mix and Taco Pasta. And I gained a new appreciation for those who have lived with Celiac Disease and provided market pressure to produce gluten-free friendly products.
When you are on the diet and mess up, it is called an infraction. We had many infractions in the beginning, learning that Play-Doh and some laundry detergents contain gluten. Marshmallows and many other foods are dusted with gluten to prevent sticking, and this does not have to be listed on the ingredients. The only way to be sure something is gluten or dairy free is to call the manufacturer directly and ask. And sometimes you find that they don't know either, such as the nice lady at Dairy Queen headquarters who assured me that their Dilly Bar treats do not contain casein. I tried to assure her that they did contain milk, but she insisted that the word 'casein' was not present in the ingredient list. I decided it was probably best to avoid DQ. But then there is Chik-Fil-A, who have a dedicated oil pit for their waffle fries, so that they will not be contaminated by the breading on the chicken. They are the only fast food place that I know of that takes this step, and we go there once a week for a special treat of waffle fries. :)
So we ate this diet for over a year and really had come to enjoy it. When you take away artificial dyes, flavors, bleached sugar and flours, growth additives and artificial lighting, you end up with fresh fruits and vegetables and grains that were grown in good soil (how does food grown in soil without good nutrients really nourish, anyway?), and actual sunlight. It makes sense that these taste better than plants grown in warehouses under artificial light. Of course the chicken that is free to roam leisurely around a grassy barnyard yields better meat and eggs than the one which lives its life in a crate too small for it to stand up in, fed chemicals that make it grow too big to even stand on its own legs and drenched daily in the feces of the layers of chickens above it.
Before our trip to Africa this summer, we felt Ru-baby's digestive tract was well enough to try an occasional planned infraction. And this was going well, with none of the out-of-control episodes we had seen with early infractions. In fact, she was thriving in every area of development and was by this time largely indistinguishable as having special needs when with her peers.
Unfortunately, her illness in Africa and the antibiotics that helped her there also cleaned out her gut flora again, and since our return we have started over with the diet, hoping to get her balanced again. And she has made progress quickly, able in this last month to handle one or two infractions a month without great consequence.
Well, this weekend I took it too far. Fall parties and regular pizza at Grandma and Grandpa's and my own greed in wanting to give her all the things I enjoy, even though she is great at saying 'no' to things she shouldn't have, took her over the edge again. And Space Ruby has been back for a day or two, although today was a better day. But my frustration at myself for going too far will outlast her symptoms.
As we prepare to move, I am stocking up on our favorite rice pastas and GF flours and mixes and enough potato milk to last a year, and I am hopeful that somehow, in all the crazy transitioning and adjusting to a new country and culture, we will find a way to thrive without strict adherence to this diet.
At the moment, though, that seems like a far-off dream.
My daughter is four years old and was diagnosed with autism over two years ago, several months after suffering an immediate regression after receiving a flu shot and Hepatitis A shot at her 18 month doctor visit.
After some time, and months of rejecting the idea, we began an experiment into diet: a gluten-free, casein-free adventure that seemed daunting at first. Cutting out wheat, oats, rye, barley, and all dairy products except eggs took getting used to, especially for this comfort cook who loves sauces, gravy and cheese in almost every dish. We had already cut out artificial colors and additives, and for a few months the world looked dreary. Would we ever eat delicious food again?
If you are curious about this diet, you can look up 'leaky gut syndrome' and find oodles of information on the theory behind this approach. We approached the diet head-on, starting the day after Ruby's third birthday party. No more macaroni and cheese. Milk and bread - out. Those first months were rough at times as we held our ground and learned which of these new, wheat-less breads tasted good to us (turns out, none of the pre-made ones really did!). But we stuck with it, and saw noticeable improvement in Ru-baby's eye contact and responsiveness after just a month (which I later learned is about the time it takes for dairy products to exit the body entirely). And along the way, we were discovering treasures like Anna's Bread Mixes and Namaste Foods Fudge Brownie Mix and Taco Pasta. And I gained a new appreciation for those who have lived with Celiac Disease and provided market pressure to produce gluten-free friendly products.
When you are on the diet and mess up, it is called an infraction. We had many infractions in the beginning, learning that Play-Doh and some laundry detergents contain gluten. Marshmallows and many other foods are dusted with gluten to prevent sticking, and this does not have to be listed on the ingredients. The only way to be sure something is gluten or dairy free is to call the manufacturer directly and ask. And sometimes you find that they don't know either, such as the nice lady at Dairy Queen headquarters who assured me that their Dilly Bar treats do not contain casein. I tried to assure her that they did contain milk, but she insisted that the word 'casein' was not present in the ingredient list. I decided it was probably best to avoid DQ. But then there is Chik-Fil-A, who have a dedicated oil pit for their waffle fries, so that they will not be contaminated by the breading on the chicken. They are the only fast food place that I know of that takes this step, and we go there once a week for a special treat of waffle fries. :)
So we ate this diet for over a year and really had come to enjoy it. When you take away artificial dyes, flavors, bleached sugar and flours, growth additives and artificial lighting, you end up with fresh fruits and vegetables and grains that were grown in good soil (how does food grown in soil without good nutrients really nourish, anyway?), and actual sunlight. It makes sense that these taste better than plants grown in warehouses under artificial light. Of course the chicken that is free to roam leisurely around a grassy barnyard yields better meat and eggs than the one which lives its life in a crate too small for it to stand up in, fed chemicals that make it grow too big to even stand on its own legs and drenched daily in the feces of the layers of chickens above it.
Before our trip to Africa this summer, we felt Ru-baby's digestive tract was well enough to try an occasional planned infraction. And this was going well, with none of the out-of-control episodes we had seen with early infractions. In fact, she was thriving in every area of development and was by this time largely indistinguishable as having special needs when with her peers.
Unfortunately, her illness in Africa and the antibiotics that helped her there also cleaned out her gut flora again, and since our return we have started over with the diet, hoping to get her balanced again. And she has made progress quickly, able in this last month to handle one or two infractions a month without great consequence.
Well, this weekend I took it too far. Fall parties and regular pizza at Grandma and Grandpa's and my own greed in wanting to give her all the things I enjoy, even though she is great at saying 'no' to things she shouldn't have, took her over the edge again. And Space Ruby has been back for a day or two, although today was a better day. But my frustration at myself for going too far will outlast her symptoms.
As we prepare to move, I am stocking up on our favorite rice pastas and GF flours and mixes and enough potato milk to last a year, and I am hopeful that somehow, in all the crazy transitioning and adjusting to a new country and culture, we will find a way to thrive without strict adherence to this diet.
At the moment, though, that seems like a far-off dream.
Monday, November 2, 2009
A Word From Your Creator
The knees and I finally made peace. My trekking poles are already lashed to the suitcase so we don't forget them next time.
More about the Springs hike. Glen Eyrie is a gorgeous property that backs up to the Garden of the Gods, has a resident herd of wild bighorn sheep, visiting wild deer and wild turkeys in the midst of terraced gardens, red rock formations, sweeping hillsides and miles of good hiking trails. And a castle built by one of the Colorado Springs pioneers as a gift for his wife. You really have to see it to believe it.
With a few hours of down time our first afternoon there, I decided to hike a couple of trails to get a view of Garden of the Gods. If this place doesn't make you fall in love with geology, nothing will. From the pink Precambrian granite to red Cambrian Quartz, to Upper and Lower Cretaceous shale and sandstone, walking any of the trails is a rainbow of history and beauty.
The first trail took me through all of it, around the side of a small mountain and finally through fields carpeting geologically recent deposits of sand and clay, right up to the northern boundary of GoG. Which, to my chuckles, was marked with a barbed-wire fence with a hole neatly cut through the bottom two strands. Plant life is as varied as the rocks. Not a dull moment!
But you're wondering, "What is the word from my Creator?"
The second trail I tried was a loop that began on the fire road behind the castle. Now, the visible fire road is an inviting trail - a wide, flat dirt trail wide enough for a large four-wheeler to easily speed along for about a quarter-mile, then it curves out of sight. It isn't until you turn that corner that you see how steep it becomes for the rest of the ascent. I decided to take it in 50-pace segments, stopping to check out the ever-changing view and catch my breath frequently.
at the top of the fire trail, the path switches back sharply to the left, to a much more narrow trail, and continues up, although with less climb.
A short walk up that trail I saw the prize: Garden of the Gods, from an overlook as close as you can get, with great views of the major formations. It was so close I almost thought I could jump and land on top of them.
Fortunately, I passed on that idea and instead sat down to savor the view of over 180 degrees of Colorado skyline, including Pike's Peak and GoG, as the sun was setting. I sat there for almost 20 minutes, feeling the coldness of the evening as the sun faded, wanting to squeeze every last second out of the experience before I had to start back to get there by dark.
Then, God spoke.
"All this is nothing except that I made it."
Really? That's it, God? You're bragging now?
But as it sank in, I was humbled to realize that I had been worshipping the beauty and almost forgot who made it. And don't we see this in so much of life; people with all the beauty and luxury and splendor money can buy but without peace and joy in their lives? Am I not that person from time to time, wanting something and getting it, only to realize it brings me no joy?
"All this is nothing except that I made it."
Yes, the greatest geological wonders in the world are nothing except that they were made by God. I like to think they are his personal gifts to us to enjoy. The sunset, the horizon and all it holds, they are all worthless by themselves. Fancy paperweights. But because they were born of the work of God, they are priceless.
And as I started down the trail (this is where my knees got cross with me), I thought about my life and the lives of kids I know and don't know...what value do any of us have on our own? But what great worth is available to each of us as children of Creator God, who showcases his geology in Garden of the Gods and Glen Eyrie, who made the sun that sets over Pike's Peak and the moon that rises in the east, who knows my name and your name and hears our every word?
Yes, this is my great worth - that God made me. And I am nothing without Him.
More about the Springs hike. Glen Eyrie is a gorgeous property that backs up to the Garden of the Gods, has a resident herd of wild bighorn sheep, visiting wild deer and wild turkeys in the midst of terraced gardens, red rock formations, sweeping hillsides and miles of good hiking trails. And a castle built by one of the Colorado Springs pioneers as a gift for his wife. You really have to see it to believe it.
With a few hours of down time our first afternoon there, I decided to hike a couple of trails to get a view of Garden of the Gods. If this place doesn't make you fall in love with geology, nothing will. From the pink Precambrian granite to red Cambrian Quartz, to Upper and Lower Cretaceous shale and sandstone, walking any of the trails is a rainbow of history and beauty.
The first trail took me through all of it, around the side of a small mountain and finally through fields carpeting geologically recent deposits of sand and clay, right up to the northern boundary of GoG. Which, to my chuckles, was marked with a barbed-wire fence with a hole neatly cut through the bottom two strands. Plant life is as varied as the rocks. Not a dull moment!
But you're wondering, "What is the word from my Creator?"
The second trail I tried was a loop that began on the fire road behind the castle. Now, the visible fire road is an inviting trail - a wide, flat dirt trail wide enough for a large four-wheeler to easily speed along for about a quarter-mile, then it curves out of sight. It isn't until you turn that corner that you see how steep it becomes for the rest of the ascent. I decided to take it in 50-pace segments, stopping to check out the ever-changing view and catch my breath frequently.
at the top of the fire trail, the path switches back sharply to the left, to a much more narrow trail, and continues up, although with less climb.
A short walk up that trail I saw the prize: Garden of the Gods, from an overlook as close as you can get, with great views of the major formations. It was so close I almost thought I could jump and land on top of them.
Fortunately, I passed on that idea and instead sat down to savor the view of over 180 degrees of Colorado skyline, including Pike's Peak and GoG, as the sun was setting. I sat there for almost 20 minutes, feeling the coldness of the evening as the sun faded, wanting to squeeze every last second out of the experience before I had to start back to get there by dark.
Then, God spoke.
"All this is nothing except that I made it."
Really? That's it, God? You're bragging now?
But as it sank in, I was humbled to realize that I had been worshipping the beauty and almost forgot who made it. And don't we see this in so much of life; people with all the beauty and luxury and splendor money can buy but without peace and joy in their lives? Am I not that person from time to time, wanting something and getting it, only to realize it brings me no joy?
"All this is nothing except that I made it."
Yes, the greatest geological wonders in the world are nothing except that they were made by God. I like to think they are his personal gifts to us to enjoy. The sunset, the horizon and all it holds, they are all worthless by themselves. Fancy paperweights. But because they were born of the work of God, they are priceless.
And as I started down the trail (this is where my knees got cross with me), I thought about my life and the lives of kids I know and don't know...what value do any of us have on our own? But what great worth is available to each of us as children of Creator God, who showcases his geology in Garden of the Gods and Glen Eyrie, who made the sun that sets over Pike's Peak and the moon that rises in the east, who knows my name and your name and hears our every word?
Yes, this is my great worth - that God made me. And I am nothing without Him.
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
An Open Letter to My Knees
Dear Knees,
There is no better way to begin than by saying I'm sorry. There is no excuse for the way I treated you this weekend, and I apologize. You have been faithful friends and worked more than your share every day of my life, and I have continued to take you for granted.
This weekend, we were only supposed to hike a short time. I honestly did not expect to have extra time to spend on the mountain, and I should have brought my trekking poles to be prepared, just in case. But when the opportunity to hike for three hours came into view, I took it and tried to maximize it, without thinking of how you felt.
On the way up, we were fine - you didn't complain at all! And it is my fault that I refused to pace us better. I was simply trying to get more done in the time we had. I knew we could descend faster, and the extra time we spent at the top was to give you a rest as well as to enjoy the view of Garden of the Gods and Pike's Peak. However, that caused our descent time to be too fast, and you paid the price.
Knees, we've been together 37 years and I need you. We've seen so many amazing places and that wouldn't have happened without you every step of the way. Please be patient with me as I adjust to changes and learn to care for you better. Thank you for hanging with me for this long - may we have many more adventures ahead!
Humbly,
me
There is no better way to begin than by saying I'm sorry. There is no excuse for the way I treated you this weekend, and I apologize. You have been faithful friends and worked more than your share every day of my life, and I have continued to take you for granted.
This weekend, we were only supposed to hike a short time. I honestly did not expect to have extra time to spend on the mountain, and I should have brought my trekking poles to be prepared, just in case. But when the opportunity to hike for three hours came into view, I took it and tried to maximize it, without thinking of how you felt.
On the way up, we were fine - you didn't complain at all! And it is my fault that I refused to pace us better. I was simply trying to get more done in the time we had. I knew we could descend faster, and the extra time we spent at the top was to give you a rest as well as to enjoy the view of Garden of the Gods and Pike's Peak. However, that caused our descent time to be too fast, and you paid the price.
Knees, we've been together 37 years and I need you. We've seen so many amazing places and that wouldn't have happened without you every step of the way. Please be patient with me as I adjust to changes and learn to care for you better. Thank you for hanging with me for this long - may we have many more adventures ahead!
Humbly,
me
Tuesday, August 11, 2009
A Word on Transportation
I don't have to tell you that flying to Tanzania with Little Bit 1 and Little Bit 2 was intimidating. So much thought and effort was put into how to survive the trip there that I really didn't put enough effort into preparing for our visit. As a green mama, I have long frowned on children being plied with electronic games and the like; however, I will say that buying my 2- and 4-year old children ipod Nanos was some of the best money I've spent recently. And saving them until the fifteenth or so hour of the 26-hour flight was perfect...their battery life lasted until just before we landed in Dar. We were armed with backpacks full of every preschool diversion known to mankind, and they worked well.
The original master plan was to take our car seats on each plane, with the children securely strapped in. I've made several road trips this year to 'test drive' their ability to ride several hours at a time, and they passed with flying colors.
Unfortunately, Ethiopian Airlines does not allow any car seats in the cabin, for safety purposes. Although they do allow strollers, I noticed. Not to disparage EA in any way...their airplanes were safe and clean, and the staff was first rate. I was just disappointed that we could not have the kids in safety seats on those longer flights.
However, I quickly got over that sentiment when we arrived in Dar es Salaam; we did not use the car seats for the remainder of the trip. At first it was because we couldn't find the seat belts in the first vehicle we rode in. Then, it became a matter of not slowing down the group as we moved quickly in and out of varous vehicles throughout the trip. Some had seat belts, some did not. The kids adapted quickly to no car seats as well. Although Ru-baby, bless her heart, did ask each time we were moving, 'Where is my car seat?' but she did not melt down, thank God.
The Wild Child enjoyed riding on the floor at our feet of just about every vehicle. He took more prodding upon re-entry to get back in his seat, but he is also more vulnerable to being bribed with simple things like getting to hold his toddler-sized soccer ball in the seat.
Flying home was Mario Andretti-style until we were almost to Rome; then everything suddenly crashed into slow motion. The smell of food suddenly made me want to hurl. I prayed for God's mercy every time they wheeled the food carts down the aisles. It seemed like they served eight meals in that last ten-hour flight. And they were on the schedule of the country we had left, with breakfast served four hours after dinner with no darkness in between.
Not that it would have mattered; I let Wildman sleep across our two seats, guarding him zealously from the armrest I had raised but which the child behind us kept pushing down forcefully. There was a Somali woman beside us who was on her way home from marrying a Ugandan man and she was wonderful, enduring the occasional baby head in her thigh when Wildman pushed himself against her.
For the most part, I held Wildman's legs in my lap and tried to rest, but I've never been good at sleeping upright. Out of courtesy for the mom behind me, who had THREE children under the age of 10 with her, I did not recline my seat. The man in front of me, however, not only reclined his seat, but made a series of violent thrusts that pushed his seat a few inches further back, leaving me with well under a foot between my head and his seat. He had almost a yard between his head and the seat in front of him, even though it was reclined as well. I tried to imagine what it must be like to be a tall man in these small spaces for such a long time, but it finally became more than I could imagine, and I sought other space.
Remembering my French Club trip to Europe in high school, I turned sideways and slid the bottom half of my body between my seat and the row before me. After some wiggling, I actually found a very comfortable position, resting my ribcage on Wildman's backpack and my head beside his on the seat, with my legs curled around under me. It felt good, and my body immediately began to fall asleep peacefully, desperate for rest.
This lasted for approximately eight minutes, when the very kind and beautiful Ethiopian Airlines attendant tapped me gently and said, 'I'm sorry, sleeping on the floor is not allowed.'
I did not move. Desperate to maintain the status quo, I answered, 'Is it because of safety concerns?' as though that would baffle her beyond response.
'Yes. You have to get up.'
I slowly un-wedged myself from my haven (and when I say slow, that is because even in decent shape I weigh 30 pounds more than I did in high school) and prayed for God to help me find rest and not think the unkind thoughts I was thinking. I would have happily crawled in one of the overhead bins to achieve a horizontal position. After over an hour, I was able to lay down beside Henry by using the back of the seat in front of him as my back support. Basically, I was curled up over nothing, wedged between his seat and the seat in front of him like one of those new diamond settings. It bought me a couple of hours of rest, and that was enough to get through the remainder of the trip. That crazy God...always providing what we need.
Henry managed to poop at least four times on that trip home; the airplane lavatory changing table is really a funny place to hang out, but we did it. I tried not to hate Len for sitting with Ru-baby as she sat benignly, gazing at her ipod cartoons as he laughed through the in-flight movie starring some kid from High School Musical. But Len helped tremendously throughout the trip, and I did not hate him.
I fully expected to leave the plane with grandchildren - it was like the Hotel California; it seemed we would never leave. Those final hours were good for surveying the places we traveled and how, though. Coaster buses (think large VW Microbuses) with our friends and their drivers who loved loud Swahili techno music. An auto-rickshaw, a glorified tricycle with zip. The YL truck with Opas, the driver. And our taxi ride to the clinic with Frederic, in his snappy Toyota sedan, who was happy to drive us 40 minutes to the clinic when Ruby was sick, wait three hours for us there, and drive us back to the hotel, all for less than the 40 minute one-way ride would cost here. The kindness shown us by all of our transportation friends on the trip was enough to divert my mind away from the shiny red handle on the door of the plane as I desperately wanted to escape in those final hours of travel.
The original master plan was to take our car seats on each plane, with the children securely strapped in. I've made several road trips this year to 'test drive' their ability to ride several hours at a time, and they passed with flying colors.
Unfortunately, Ethiopian Airlines does not allow any car seats in the cabin, for safety purposes. Although they do allow strollers, I noticed. Not to disparage EA in any way...their airplanes were safe and clean, and the staff was first rate. I was just disappointed that we could not have the kids in safety seats on those longer flights.
However, I quickly got over that sentiment when we arrived in Dar es Salaam; we did not use the car seats for the remainder of the trip. At first it was because we couldn't find the seat belts in the first vehicle we rode in. Then, it became a matter of not slowing down the group as we moved quickly in and out of varous vehicles throughout the trip. Some had seat belts, some did not. The kids adapted quickly to no car seats as well. Although Ru-baby, bless her heart, did ask each time we were moving, 'Where is my car seat?' but she did not melt down, thank God.
The Wild Child enjoyed riding on the floor at our feet of just about every vehicle. He took more prodding upon re-entry to get back in his seat, but he is also more vulnerable to being bribed with simple things like getting to hold his toddler-sized soccer ball in the seat.
Flying home was Mario Andretti-style until we were almost to Rome; then everything suddenly crashed into slow motion. The smell of food suddenly made me want to hurl. I prayed for God's mercy every time they wheeled the food carts down the aisles. It seemed like they served eight meals in that last ten-hour flight. And they were on the schedule of the country we had left, with breakfast served four hours after dinner with no darkness in between.
Not that it would have mattered; I let Wildman sleep across our two seats, guarding him zealously from the armrest I had raised but which the child behind us kept pushing down forcefully. There was a Somali woman beside us who was on her way home from marrying a Ugandan man and she was wonderful, enduring the occasional baby head in her thigh when Wildman pushed himself against her.
For the most part, I held Wildman's legs in my lap and tried to rest, but I've never been good at sleeping upright. Out of courtesy for the mom behind me, who had THREE children under the age of 10 with her, I did not recline my seat. The man in front of me, however, not only reclined his seat, but made a series of violent thrusts that pushed his seat a few inches further back, leaving me with well under a foot between my head and his seat. He had almost a yard between his head and the seat in front of him, even though it was reclined as well. I tried to imagine what it must be like to be a tall man in these small spaces for such a long time, but it finally became more than I could imagine, and I sought other space.
Remembering my French Club trip to Europe in high school, I turned sideways and slid the bottom half of my body between my seat and the row before me. After some wiggling, I actually found a very comfortable position, resting my ribcage on Wildman's backpack and my head beside his on the seat, with my legs curled around under me. It felt good, and my body immediately began to fall asleep peacefully, desperate for rest.
This lasted for approximately eight minutes, when the very kind and beautiful Ethiopian Airlines attendant tapped me gently and said, 'I'm sorry, sleeping on the floor is not allowed.'
I did not move. Desperate to maintain the status quo, I answered, 'Is it because of safety concerns?' as though that would baffle her beyond response.
'Yes. You have to get up.'
I slowly un-wedged myself from my haven (and when I say slow, that is because even in decent shape I weigh 30 pounds more than I did in high school) and prayed for God to help me find rest and not think the unkind thoughts I was thinking. I would have happily crawled in one of the overhead bins to achieve a horizontal position. After over an hour, I was able to lay down beside Henry by using the back of the seat in front of him as my back support. Basically, I was curled up over nothing, wedged between his seat and the seat in front of him like one of those new diamond settings. It bought me a couple of hours of rest, and that was enough to get through the remainder of the trip. That crazy God...always providing what we need.
Henry managed to poop at least four times on that trip home; the airplane lavatory changing table is really a funny place to hang out, but we did it. I tried not to hate Len for sitting with Ru-baby as she sat benignly, gazing at her ipod cartoons as he laughed through the in-flight movie starring some kid from High School Musical. But Len helped tremendously throughout the trip, and I did not hate him.
I fully expected to leave the plane with grandchildren - it was like the Hotel California; it seemed we would never leave. Those final hours were good for surveying the places we traveled and how, though. Coaster buses (think large VW Microbuses) with our friends and their drivers who loved loud Swahili techno music. An auto-rickshaw, a glorified tricycle with zip. The YL truck with Opas, the driver. And our taxi ride to the clinic with Frederic, in his snappy Toyota sedan, who was happy to drive us 40 minutes to the clinic when Ruby was sick, wait three hours for us there, and drive us back to the hotel, all for less than the 40 minute one-way ride would cost here. The kindness shown us by all of our transportation friends on the trip was enough to divert my mind away from the shiny red handle on the door of the plane as I desperately wanted to escape in those final hours of travel.
Monday, August 3, 2009
A Co-sleeping Intermission
Still catching up on posts from our Africa trip, and one tiny aspect of that trip was co-sleeping. Those of you who know me well know that we sleep with our babies until they don't want to sleep with us anymore. This has been one of the many parts of parenting that I never dreamed I would love, until that first little swaddled bean appeared next to me in bed one night, with her sweet little breaths and sweet sighing and convenient location for 2-hour feedings.
My heart was a little broken when she chose her own room over our bed, but then again, it took me about five minutes to get over that and fall asleep.
Co-sleeping with Wildman was never quite as sweet. He always feels a little warm and clammy from overexertion. What a charmer he is going to be as a sweaty teenager after gym class. But even as a tiny babe, swaddled with my best and biggest swaddling blanket, he didn't like to cuddle. He liked to break out of the swaddle and maul anyone within his range of mobility, and then fall asleep with his head growing out of my armpit. It sounds funny, but ask the person next to you right now to stick their head against your armpit and push hard for an extended period of time. It hurts! So dear husband and I were both a little relieved when Wildman chose his own room as soon as he could walk in there.
This trip to Africa found the four of us sleeping in two beds for the first several nights, then for the last five nights we all slept in one king bed. It was a sweet change of pace, and everyone slept soundly.
Since our return home, however, Wildman has been back to his old tricks. He appeared in our bed shortly before midnight last night and spent the better part of the night trying to implant his head into my armpit. I will admit a bit of anxiety about going to bed tonight. And a sad thought enters my mind: I think I may be done with co-sleeping.
My heart was a little broken when she chose her own room over our bed, but then again, it took me about five minutes to get over that and fall asleep.
Co-sleeping with Wildman was never quite as sweet. He always feels a little warm and clammy from overexertion. What a charmer he is going to be as a sweaty teenager after gym class. But even as a tiny babe, swaddled with my best and biggest swaddling blanket, he didn't like to cuddle. He liked to break out of the swaddle and maul anyone within his range of mobility, and then fall asleep with his head growing out of my armpit. It sounds funny, but ask the person next to you right now to stick their head against your armpit and push hard for an extended period of time. It hurts! So dear husband and I were both a little relieved when Wildman chose his own room as soon as he could walk in there.
This trip to Africa found the four of us sleeping in two beds for the first several nights, then for the last five nights we all slept in one king bed. It was a sweet change of pace, and everyone slept soundly.
Since our return home, however, Wildman has been back to his old tricks. He appeared in our bed shortly before midnight last night and spent the better part of the night trying to implant his head into my armpit. I will admit a bit of anxiety about going to bed tonight. And a sad thought enters my mind: I think I may be done with co-sleeping.
Sunday, August 2, 2009
The Big Event - Teachers Arrive!
Friday afternoon, one week after we left Indianapolis for Tanzania, we were privileged to welcome over 80 teachers from all over rural southwestern Tanzania to the first ever Young Life teacher training event in that area. After cleaning and preparing for most of the day, it was easy to feel exhaustion, and until we actually heard the buses motoring up the hill to the college gate, we rested on the concrete curbs and walls, absorbing the cool mountain sun and enjoying the flowering trees everywhere.
The African wedding band hired to highlight the festivities had a few false starts; maybe they were practicing or maybe they mistook another bus for ours. But each time I heard their brass happiness, I jumped up and felt the adrenaline rush that I only feel for youth ministry. :) When it finally was time to welcome the teachers, we all lined the driveway and followed each bus to the dormitory as we shouted, 'Karibuni!' and gave high fives and smiles to the somewhat confused passengers. I was pretty sure some of them thought we were about to kill and eat them, by the looks on their faces.
I'm not sure where they all came from or how they came to be on these buses coming through the gates, but I know they were mostly from remote areas, making just dollars a month, and it likely took them great expense of both time and resources to get there. There were more women than men, and all were dressed in what I imagine were their best clothes. Dresses, dress shoes, slacks and jackets, oxford shirts. They carried very small bags with the rest of their belongings for the four day retreat. I suspect that some had borrowed the clothing they wore, and most wore the same clothing each day, carefully spot-cleaned and pressed. These teachers took their professional appearance seriously. I was humbled by their great efforts to make first impressions. When was the last time I cared that much how I looked, for the right reasons?
Martin and Alexis were dressed in their coordinating brown and white funnyman outfits...kind of like sepia-toned clowns, with loudly striped stockings, and wild brown wigs. Recalling my conversations with them in the past days, talking about living through wars and sobering things they've seen and experienced, made their funny personas even more vibrant. The wedding band led the procession, followed by Martin, Alexis and George, the local YL leader, and we cheered and jumped for joy as the buses deposited the teachers at the dormitory. Martin and Alexis delivered their welcome/guidelines talk flawlessly in Swahili and even those of us who had no idea what they were saying were nodding in agreement and laughing along.
This was really the last night I would get to participate much in the weekend...Ru-baby started getting sick that night, and I wasn't concerned much at first as I figured everyone was adjusting to the different food. However, I spent the next 50 or so hours mostly at her bedside, and by the end of the weekend she couldn't get up by herself and was back in diapers. Using a 10ml syringe, I shot rehydration fluids into her around the clock but we were losing the fight with dehydration. She hadn't eaten for over 48 hours and had not urinated for 24 hours. On Monday we decided to skip our planned safari and return with some of the group to Dar, where we could get help at the clinic. It was a good choice.
Some good things came out of this experience: I had a lot of time to pray, sitting in the room with Ru-baby between carrying her to the toilet. We learned that the clinic in Dar offers excellent care.
And the best part of the weekend was that 14 teachers committed their lives to Christ, and all of the teachers had transformational time being loved and served, building new relationships and being encouraged in the hard work of teaching kids.
The African wedding band hired to highlight the festivities had a few false starts; maybe they were practicing or maybe they mistook another bus for ours. But each time I heard their brass happiness, I jumped up and felt the adrenaline rush that I only feel for youth ministry. :) When it finally was time to welcome the teachers, we all lined the driveway and followed each bus to the dormitory as we shouted, 'Karibuni!' and gave high fives and smiles to the somewhat confused passengers. I was pretty sure some of them thought we were about to kill and eat them, by the looks on their faces.
I'm not sure where they all came from or how they came to be on these buses coming through the gates, but I know they were mostly from remote areas, making just dollars a month, and it likely took them great expense of both time and resources to get there. There were more women than men, and all were dressed in what I imagine were their best clothes. Dresses, dress shoes, slacks and jackets, oxford shirts. They carried very small bags with the rest of their belongings for the four day retreat. I suspect that some had borrowed the clothing they wore, and most wore the same clothing each day, carefully spot-cleaned and pressed. These teachers took their professional appearance seriously. I was humbled by their great efforts to make first impressions. When was the last time I cared that much how I looked, for the right reasons?
Martin and Alexis were dressed in their coordinating brown and white funnyman outfits...kind of like sepia-toned clowns, with loudly striped stockings, and wild brown wigs. Recalling my conversations with them in the past days, talking about living through wars and sobering things they've seen and experienced, made their funny personas even more vibrant. The wedding band led the procession, followed by Martin, Alexis and George, the local YL leader, and we cheered and jumped for joy as the buses deposited the teachers at the dormitory. Martin and Alexis delivered their welcome/guidelines talk flawlessly in Swahili and even those of us who had no idea what they were saying were nodding in agreement and laughing along.
This was really the last night I would get to participate much in the weekend...Ru-baby started getting sick that night, and I wasn't concerned much at first as I figured everyone was adjusting to the different food. However, I spent the next 50 or so hours mostly at her bedside, and by the end of the weekend she couldn't get up by herself and was back in diapers. Using a 10ml syringe, I shot rehydration fluids into her around the clock but we were losing the fight with dehydration. She hadn't eaten for over 48 hours and had not urinated for 24 hours. On Monday we decided to skip our planned safari and return with some of the group to Dar, where we could get help at the clinic. It was a good choice.
Some good things came out of this experience: I had a lot of time to pray, sitting in the room with Ru-baby between carrying her to the toilet. We learned that the clinic in Dar offers excellent care.
And the best part of the weekend was that 14 teachers committed their lives to Christ, and all of the teachers had transformational time being loved and served, building new relationships and being encouraged in the hard work of teaching kids.
Thursday, July 30, 2009
Amanda and Ruaha University College
Another word about Riverside Camp - the manager there, who was in her final week of empolyment there, was a lovely woman named Amanda from Great Britain. By lovely I mean rough, abrasive and too direct. Yet utterly endearing. She always seemed to have a half-smoked cigarette in her hand, arms crossed over a braless torso and smiling through nicotine stained teeth.
Our first encounter with Amanda was when she stopped by to give us the 'Welcome to Riverside' chat. It featured guidelines and rules, all delivered with the features listed above but adding a 'dumb-ass' voice feature, where everything was said in a tone of voice that would be perfectly natural followed by that phrase. Another treat was her widening her eyes and raising her eyebrows while finishing a sentence. Let me try to explain it to you:
Amanda: "Parents - do not let your kids out of your sight for a minute. We are on a RIVER (raising eyebrows with feature voice) and they will fall in and drown if you are not watching them. OK (brow and voice feature)
"Feel free to explore the trails here. But we have SNAKES and some are POISONOUS. (brow and voice feature)"
"Are there any QUESTIONS? (features)"
There were no questions. Despite her harshness, she also seemed gentle and very caring, and any personal issues were quickly forgotten after we had our meals there, generous and delicious meals prepared by the African staff and directed by Miss Amanda. And the staff adored her. She told us funny stories about hiding her husband's prosthetic leg to make him slow down once in a while, and I felt sorry that she was leaving this job she seemed such a fit for.
Rolling out in the morning was bittersweet as I wanted to spend more time at the campground but was also eager to serve the teachers at the Young Life weekend in Iringa. We moved slowly up a steep hillside road in heavy traffic, passing interesting sights such as a large boulder painted brightly with the slogan, "Think Global, Buy Local." I wondered if they really had many global opportunities in this remote place. There was a large military-looking truck that had toppled over coming down the hill and Ruby had many questions about why it fell over and if the people in it were ok. It looked as if it had been there for some time. How do you move a truck that size off of the road without heavy equipment?
We arrived at Ruaha University College around noon and after we unloaded our things, set to work cleaning the dining hall that also served as a club room, cleaning the grounds and bathrooms where the teachers would be staying, and gathering supplies to do all of this.
Our contact there, George, was helpful but disappeared after sayng he was going to get straight pins for hanging a homemade curtain to separate the club room. After almost two hours, he still hadn't reappeared and we dispatched two more small groups of people to purchase cleaning supplies. The bathrooms and dorms were in pretty desperate need of some love. Josie, a teenager on the trip, immediately volunteered to help with bathrooms and I fell in love with her right then.
While we cleaned the dining hall bathrooms and then the dorm bathrooms, the YL Africa staff worked on turning one corner of the dining hall into a club room. They had a box of fabric scraps and some pipe cleaner-like twisty things, not a lot to work with. When we returned from the bathrooms, I was amazed in the transformation. The African staff had transformed that little space into a bright, festive space, piecing long curtains of fabric scraps together using safety pins they found somewhere, and using the other materials to decorate the walls in designs and welcoming messages. The committee had scrubbed and mopped the dining area until it looked and smelled like new, covering the tables with cloth and adding decor. In one corner of the room, some African college students were having way too much fun with a sound system, typical boys with loud speakers and their bass-heavy music.
We were constrained by the College that our welcoming of the teachers could not occur until exactly 4:30 in the afternoon due to an exam taking place on the campus that day. As we finished preparations of the space, we had little time to spare. The African wedding band had arrived to play as the buses drove through the campus. Alexis and Martin, two senior African staff, had disappeared to change into fun costumes to lead the procession into the campus, and we all lined the drive near the gate to rest for a few minutes and save up energy for the moment they arrived.
Our first encounter with Amanda was when she stopped by to give us the 'Welcome to Riverside' chat. It featured guidelines and rules, all delivered with the features listed above but adding a 'dumb-ass' voice feature, where everything was said in a tone of voice that would be perfectly natural followed by that phrase. Another treat was her widening her eyes and raising her eyebrows while finishing a sentence. Let me try to explain it to you:
Amanda: "Parents - do not let your kids out of your sight for a minute. We are on a RIVER (raising eyebrows with feature voice) and they will fall in and drown if you are not watching them. OK (brow and voice feature)
"Feel free to explore the trails here. But we have SNAKES and some are POISONOUS. (brow and voice feature)"
"Are there any QUESTIONS? (features)"
There were no questions. Despite her harshness, she also seemed gentle and very caring, and any personal issues were quickly forgotten after we had our meals there, generous and delicious meals prepared by the African staff and directed by Miss Amanda. And the staff adored her. She told us funny stories about hiding her husband's prosthetic leg to make him slow down once in a while, and I felt sorry that she was leaving this job she seemed such a fit for.
Rolling out in the morning was bittersweet as I wanted to spend more time at the campground but was also eager to serve the teachers at the Young Life weekend in Iringa. We moved slowly up a steep hillside road in heavy traffic, passing interesting sights such as a large boulder painted brightly with the slogan, "Think Global, Buy Local." I wondered if they really had many global opportunities in this remote place. There was a large military-looking truck that had toppled over coming down the hill and Ruby had many questions about why it fell over and if the people in it were ok. It looked as if it had been there for some time. How do you move a truck that size off of the road without heavy equipment?
We arrived at Ruaha University College around noon and after we unloaded our things, set to work cleaning the dining hall that also served as a club room, cleaning the grounds and bathrooms where the teachers would be staying, and gathering supplies to do all of this.
Our contact there, George, was helpful but disappeared after sayng he was going to get straight pins for hanging a homemade curtain to separate the club room. After almost two hours, he still hadn't reappeared and we dispatched two more small groups of people to purchase cleaning supplies. The bathrooms and dorms were in pretty desperate need of some love. Josie, a teenager on the trip, immediately volunteered to help with bathrooms and I fell in love with her right then.
While we cleaned the dining hall bathrooms and then the dorm bathrooms, the YL Africa staff worked on turning one corner of the dining hall into a club room. They had a box of fabric scraps and some pipe cleaner-like twisty things, not a lot to work with. When we returned from the bathrooms, I was amazed in the transformation. The African staff had transformed that little space into a bright, festive space, piecing long curtains of fabric scraps together using safety pins they found somewhere, and using the other materials to decorate the walls in designs and welcoming messages. The committee had scrubbed and mopped the dining area until it looked and smelled like new, covering the tables with cloth and adding decor. In one corner of the room, some African college students were having way too much fun with a sound system, typical boys with loud speakers and their bass-heavy music.
We were constrained by the College that our welcoming of the teachers could not occur until exactly 4:30 in the afternoon due to an exam taking place on the campus that day. As we finished preparations of the space, we had little time to spare. The African wedding band had arrived to play as the buses drove through the campus. Alexis and Martin, two senior African staff, had disappeared to change into fun costumes to lead the procession into the campus, and we all lined the drive near the gate to rest for a few minutes and save up energy for the moment they arrived.
Thursday, July 23, 2009
A Side Note - Solar Eclipse, Anyone?
I am assuming that we could not see the solar eclipse today since I did not notice the daytime turning to night at any point of our sun-drenched day by the ocean. I mean, I would have caught that, right? Did anyone see it? Should it have at least darkened the sky a little bit?
Wednesday, July 22, 2009
The Loveliest Spot on Earth - Riverside Camp
Let's just pause for a moment and consider what heaven might be like. I don't usually like to do that, because I hope it is far better than my ability to imagine. But our first night out of Dar seemed to be on the right track.
After lunch at the snake park (with nice toilets and sinks with soap!) We piled back into the buses, and I felt as satisfied as a crocodile with a guinea pig digesting in its belly. Maybe better.
A few hours later, we turned off of the main road (which had been deteriorating gradually as we left the city anyway) and started an off-road ramble down a mountain road. And when I say down, it felt kind of like we were driving over the side of a mountain, like a movie crash in slow motion. Except that when we reached the bottom, we were in a little slice of paradise called Riverside Camp. Driving through the camp, there were a few bandas scattered on either side of the lane, with tents under them, and several tents set up in a clearing right by the river. We had climbed several thousand feet in elevation (the camp is at 5500 feet), so mosquitos were not an issue due to the cooler weather.
We were unsure at first why we were there. The whole trip has been highlighted by being told where we are going about 15 minutes before we go. That has been a little challenging with two little ones to prepare for transitions, but we're rolling with it as best as we can.
We gathered around the campfire that night and sang songs to God and then Steve spoke about the mission we were on in Iringa - to serve teachers from all over southwestern Tanzania as they came to Ruaha University College to learn about Young Life. He was passionate and did a great job of sharing the vision of the weekend - cleaning for and serving food to teachers who are paid little to nothing (the average teacher salary in Tanzania is $80 per month) and have very few resources. We also had some volunteers doing breakout workshops on topics like making a lesson plan and other relevant issues.
As he spoke, the kids were getting rowdy, so I laid down on the grass with them snuggled into me, and as I looked up at the stars (which seemed to multiply by the minute hundreds of miles from light pollution) and listened to Steve, it really did seem like a moment of heaven. We dismissed to our tents, and we had our best night of sleep so far. I had no idea how lavish that night would seem as we packed up the next morning and headed up the mountainside to Iringa.
To be continued....
After lunch at the snake park (with nice toilets and sinks with soap!) We piled back into the buses, and I felt as satisfied as a crocodile with a guinea pig digesting in its belly. Maybe better.
A few hours later, we turned off of the main road (which had been deteriorating gradually as we left the city anyway) and started an off-road ramble down a mountain road. And when I say down, it felt kind of like we were driving over the side of a mountain, like a movie crash in slow motion. Except that when we reached the bottom, we were in a little slice of paradise called Riverside Camp. Driving through the camp, there were a few bandas scattered on either side of the lane, with tents under them, and several tents set up in a clearing right by the river. We had climbed several thousand feet in elevation (the camp is at 5500 feet), so mosquitos were not an issue due to the cooler weather.
We were unsure at first why we were there. The whole trip has been highlighted by being told where we are going about 15 minutes before we go. That has been a little challenging with two little ones to prepare for transitions, but we're rolling with it as best as we can.
We gathered around the campfire that night and sang songs to God and then Steve spoke about the mission we were on in Iringa - to serve teachers from all over southwestern Tanzania as they came to Ruaha University College to learn about Young Life. He was passionate and did a great job of sharing the vision of the weekend - cleaning for and serving food to teachers who are paid little to nothing (the average teacher salary in Tanzania is $80 per month) and have very few resources. We also had some volunteers doing breakout workshops on topics like making a lesson plan and other relevant issues.
As he spoke, the kids were getting rowdy, so I laid down on the grass with them snuggled into me, and as I looked up at the stars (which seemed to multiply by the minute hundreds of miles from light pollution) and listened to Steve, it really did seem like a moment of heaven. We dismissed to our tents, and we had our best night of sleep so far. I had no idea how lavish that night would seem as we packed up the next morning and headed up the mountainside to Iringa.
To be continued....
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