10. 10?!

I found out recently that the legal marrying age for girls here is 10. 10?! 10.

Which I suppose what makes the stories you hear such as a woman being widowed at 21 with 5 kids possible. Yikes.

Super Suuq

This morning I went with some folks to the giant suuq (market), over the bridge in the next town over. This town is kind of the "old city." I'm not even sure how old it is, but at least some hundreds of years. It is a more conservative area, and is also where a number of Muslim missionaries are trained.

The suuq there is massive. It wasn't my first time going there, but it was my first time going there with people who knew their way around. I much pefer the latter. The whole suuq has to be a couple of square miles and there are sections for anything. If you can't get it in that suuq, then you can't get it in Sudan. There are clothes, shoes, fruit, veg, meat, touristy things, dry goods, a whole street for bridal things, fabrics, curtains, beds, cabinets, all kinds of fake bling, birds and bunnies....and on and on. There is even a camel market section. No joke. I haven't made it to that part yet, but one day.

It is a bustling place, but not overwhelmingly so compared to markets I have been to in other areas of the world. There are boys with wheelbarrows, rickshaws, donkey carts, and the occassional large van making their way down the aisles along with you. I also like that, here, the shopkeepers are much less pushy than other places. They will yell at "itfaldall" (welcome) and such as you walk along, but you can pretty much browse in peace without too much hassling.

Today we found some bead vendors, which was awesome. I have no idea if these are from China like most of the stuff here, but they are real glass and look legit. We also went into a few shops with touristy-type things (much of it imported from Kenya). My absolute favorite though, was a small antique shop. It had old authentic pipes, some jewlery, stools, stuff made from animal skins, all kinds of beautiful stuff. There was some sort of ibaya (the complete black covering that some Muslim women wear) with the most intricate, beautiful bead work. I learned that much of the stuff comes from the Darfur area. Many families and refugees have had to sell their keepsakes just for money to eat.

Much of the stuff was crazy expensive, but I was able to get some sort of old multicolored beaded necklace and an antique real silver bangle. I went with a lady who is great at bargaining and I was able to get it for about $13. It's my first little splurge here and I love that it comes with a story.

There really are not a ton of handicrafts and things around. The different people groups and areas have their own sorts of things, but these days there are just a lot of things being imported. Art is not that highly regarded and many things are poorly made. In the city esspecially there just isn't a whole lot of cool handmade stuff. So I absolutely hope to go back to that area of the market again sometime...and hopefully venture out of the city at some point. :) But anywhere takes a special permit and permission and such, so that may not be for awhile.

One thing I do need to work on is my bargaining skills. It is totally part of the culture and part of the process...I know this, but I always start to get nervous or feel bad and I'm just really bad at it. So going with this lady today was good for me. Plus for most of the vendors it's kind of a game. They really enjoy a good bargaining session. I need to learn to have fun with it.  Will be working on it!

He is Risen!

What a beautiful Easter! Woke up bright and early and we left the house while it was still very dark out. Our neighbors across the street are Ethiopian Christians and part of their tradition includes slaughtering a cow. So, they were out doing that by flashlight when we left this morning. The lungs and such are still out on the street for the stray cats and dogs to enjoy.

We made it to the beach and walked out by flashlight. A few other families started arriving and we were soon joined by 2 policemen with very large guns. A few of the men chatted with them and they seemed satistfied with why we were there. Soon the sun started coming up and most of the rest of the International community turned out for the service.

The youth group performed a drama and then the pastor shared the Word. We sang and praised as the sun came up over the Nile.

Seven of the youth shared their stories and were baptized. Most of them were baptized by their fathers. It was precious.

We praised some more then ate a potluckish breakfast and enjoyed chatting and the breeze across the Nile. Some officers were still hanging around keeping an eye on us. I looked over at one point and 4 or 5 kids were chatting with one of them and gave him a cinnamon roll. It was really cute. We also got quite many curious looks and stares from the Sudanese men who were out. At one point while the Pastor was sharing 3 men stopped a few feet behind him and just watched us and listened.

We left at about 9:30am, before it started to get too hot. Enjoyed a lovely Easter lunch with some of my team, complete with traditional hot cross buns. A beautiful Easter. One that I will not soon forget.

Field Trip Fun

Last night a Sudanese pastor who lives in the US, but is here visiting his family, paid for all the boys to go to a little amusement park in town. There are some rides, a little picnic area, ice cream. A cute little place. It doesn't open until 7:30pm, which is right around the time the sun has gone down. Because, really, who wants to sit on a metal ride, in an area with no shade, in the 110 degree sun?

I met up with the boys there. Getting there was it's own adventure. I told the rickshaw driver the place. He is chatting my ear off the whole time. This is a problem because it's not entirely appropriate. Also because we were whizzing along quickly and I could barely make out what he was saying. So he stops at a place and says I am there. It is clearly not where I wanted to be, so I call Jo to give him directions in Arabic. So we bop along to the right place and he is telling me that he loves English (though he speaks none) and asking me if I have a man, if he is in Sudan, if I want a Sudanese man. Basically making me a marriage proposal. I am completely serious. This is not uncommon. What is surprising, really, is that it has taken this long for my first proposal. I have been forewarned about this. I felt flustered and just pretended like I wasn't understanding anything he was saying. I was very happy to finally get to the park.

It was totally dark by then, which was strange, but I spent the majority of my time walking around with our boys and trying to encourage them to get on rides. Well, except when the call to prayer sounded and the park all but shut down for about 45 minutes while all the men went and did their prayers. Jo and I got on the big swings. Safety regulations are much...different here. Four of our boys told us not to get on. But we went and it was fine. After we did a group of them went, which I was happy about. There was a little haunted house ride, an arcade, small ferris wheel, spinny ride, and a rickity looking small roller coaster. I think they had a lot of fun. I had fun watching them. Also got a lot of good time chatting with some of the boys and staff. I'm starting to feel a part of things--a part of their family and community and that feels awesome.

The evening ended, of course, with Jo's camera in hand and an ensuing photo shoot. They love, love taking pictures and getting their picture taken. My favorite picture of the evening (which is on Jo's camera so I don't have) was them getting a picture with the pastor who treated them to the evening. He is a funny, good natured guy with a big ol' belly. One of the older boys stuck his belly out and told the other boys to do the same for the picture. It was great.

In Love

I've said it before. I fall in love with people and get emotionally attached very easily.

Let me tell you, I love, loovvveee these former street boys I am working with. I just love them. The younger ones esspecially, but all of them really. I love playing with them, painting with them, teaching them to draw, trying to talk with them, sharing my headphones, giving them my camera. I can't wait until I can have a conversation. Oh what a glorious day that will be!

It's not all cupcakes and roses of course. Sometimes they run away or steal. Get in fights. Beat each other. They can be incredibly whiny and selfish. They usually moan when its time for art, even thought I know for a fact that most of them really like it. They really don't say thank you all that much or ever. But there are beautiful moments of grace and love that I see each day. One of the older boys taking time to joke around and play with a younger one. Offering me cool water to drink instead of my warm water bottle. Cheering for each other in the group soccer game. Taking care of the puppy they have adopted. Giving another boy the last bite of their food. Taking care of Jabrill, one of the boys who broke his foot. Without being asked, without conversation or comment, just picking him up and moving him to where everyone else is going. Taking paintbrushes from my hand and washing them out for me. I took my shoes off one day to play soccer and a boy took his flip flops off and offered them to me because the field has stones and thorns. How's that for putting others before yourself?

They (usually) patiently repeat themselves so I can figure out what they're saying. They laugh when I shrug my shoulders in resignation when I really have no idea what they're saying. They ask about the next time we are painting or drawing. When I walk in the gate at least one boy usually says "Eliza" (that's what they call me) and smile. (Which oh so warms my heart). They enthusiastically ask me if I am going to play soccer with them that night. Certain ones love to sit with me and show me how to write arabic words or to learn to draw certain things. They make me laugh. The youngest boy Ojeng is always a dusty mess. The other day I could hear him yelling and crying (which sounds very similar to how he laughs) so I asked what was up. Mujahid told me that some of the boys had to force Ojeng to bathe. He wasn't actually hysterical, just putting up a fight. It made me laugh.

We think that OJ has some developmental issues. His mom is a prostitute and brews illicet whiskey. She drinks a lot and for sure she did while she was pregnant. He is the smallest boy and gets picked on. But...he asks for it a lot. He'll do things like pick up the ball that other kids are playing with and run off with it. But they love him, at least from what I can see. He's like everyones little brother.

There is a lot more going on than what is on the surface though. Most of the boys there now have been at the centre for at least a year. Almost all were addicted to glue and other drugs when they came in. They have been through serious trauma, all of them. Their families are all broken in some way. The staff at the centre is amazing. They are wonderful. But they are mostly men (which is good and appropriate) and there are only like 2 there at any given time. Which again, is appropriate for the situation. But it does mean that these boys aren't being parented in a traditional sense. I'm not saying its bad or whatever. Just not ideal.

When I interned in Guatemala and left after 2.5 months my heart broke leaving those kids. I cried for weeks thinking about them. I pleaded with God to watch over them and to send me to a place where I could love kids and not have to leave them. A big part of me coming here is a strong sense that as a Christian I have a responsibility to care for the orphan, the fatherless, the one who has no voice. I felt and still do feel like I have to do something to care for the kids who are suffering majorly. Right now for these boys who's mothers for whatever reason can't mother them, I want to do what I can. Be a surrogate big sister, a teacher, a friend, whateve. Use the gift of art for therapy, connecting, and hopefully enrich their lives somehow.

I miss them on the 2 days a week I don't go. I already want to be a part of their lives and watch them grow up. The thing is, most of the boys there now are from the South. So when July rolls around with the secession no one knows what is going to happen. Will the government force them out? Where will they go? I'm not going to pretend like I have things worked out and understand about the workings of things and their lives and all that. These are my humble observations and understandings which, most assuredly, could be skewed.

But what I feel is dedicated--dedicated to these boys and doing everything I can to help them grow into Godly men; to see truth, feel loved, and be well cared for.

"For you were called to freedom, brothers. Only do not use your freedon as an opportunity for the flesh,  but through love serve one another. For the whole law is fulfilled in one word: You shall love your neighbor as yourself." Galations 5:13-14 

Muzhil!

There are 28 letters in the Arabic alphabet. Each letter has 3 forms for how it appears in a word depending on whether it is the first letter, the last, or in the middle. 6 of the letters don't connect to the following letter in word form. Each letter also has 3 pronunciations depending on the annotations you can add. But in Arabic writing they don't use the pronunciation notes, you just have to know. So figuring out how to pronounce words is still a guessing game. Also, there are many more throaty and gutteral letters and sounds. These are hard. Esspecially for girls I think.

But today was the first day in my reading and writing class that I didn't feel completely stupid. We have a new teacher and as he was walking around to look at our writing he stopped at mine and said "Muzhil." Which means amazing. Then he said that it was like an artist. He was impressed for real.

I am not tryting to toot my horn or anything...really before today each r+w class I left feeling a fool. I am pretty happy with how my spoken Arabic is going, but until today reading and writing has seemed impossible. The little pat on the back today makes it seem possible.

No One-Stop-Shops Here

For the most part, men here do the food shopping for the family. Lucky enough for me the family I have been staying with have been kind enough to pick up the fruit and veg I want along with their weekly shopping. So, though I have been to the market, this is the first week I have done all of my own food shopping. It seemed like it was time.

Time consuming, that's what it was.

My friend Leah offered to come with me today and I was happy to have her along. These sorts of things are way easier with some company. The suuk is the most stressful place. I want to love it, and I hope to eventually, but honestly it is still intimidating and kind of overwhelming. It was good to have Leah along too for her to make sure that I wasn't paying crazy prices for stuff. I expect to pay more than a local, but I just don't want to be completely taken for a fool, you know?

There is a small suuk just a hop, skip, and jump away from the house. Which is really convenient. Found a veg table that looked adequate and bought most everything I needed from this fellow. He complimented my Arabic while a guy sitting down behind him watched us and laughed. After 3 or 4 other people interrupt and go ahead of me I get all the veg I need and actually pay less than I expected to. Then went to the dry goods guy and overpaid for onions and garlic. It happens.

Hop back home to drop the veggies. Walk 10 minutes or so out to the fruit guy and pay probably a little too much ($1.50 too much or so) for bananas and mangoes. Saw a pineapple, which is rare. Ask how much it is and it was too much. Could have bargained down, but wasn't feeling up to it.

Walk back home to drop the fruit then take a bus up the road to where the "Supermarkets" are. Businesses are kind of grouped together by type. Stationary shops are all together, all the Turkish curtain stores are together, hardware stores...you get the idea. Hop off the bus and walk up the street to one store. Get a few of the things I need there. Then go a few more minutes to the next store and get the rest of the odds and ends I need. I was hoping to pick up some more pencils and paper for the boys centre, but that would have been another bus ride and another place out of the way. Not up to it today so I will stop on the way back from class tomorrow.

Anyway, by this point I have a bulging bag. Instead of taking 2 buses to get back, as we were now in the well over 100 degree heat of the day (and covered head to toe), we get a rickshaw back to the house. I wouldn't have minded the bus ride, but it is crowded and so awkward with extra bags that avoiding the hassle was easier.

So that is how I spent 2.5 hours today. I have learned that without a car, living in close proximity to the fruit and vegetable guys are a necessity. I plan on getting pretty buff these next few years with the schlepping of groceries. Just kidding, I don't mind it. ...As long as they keep telling me how great my Arabic is!

Day in the Life

My schedule differs widely from day to day. No two days in my week are anywhere close to the same and I love it that way. Not to say that I am not a planner--I am. I have a color coded blocked in schedule of my week. I plan for a little time of solitude everday, excersize, studying... I make most of my weekly meals on Sunday because I am usually not home until after 7 most nights, and fill my fridge with tupperware. But I love that my days are so different. Here is what today looked like.

5:20am Wake up to go running. Put on pants, long sleeves, a loose shirt over, and a wide headband. Run a few miles in the median of the main road--the only place that has lighting, is flat, and not completely covered in sand. Try to avoid stray dogs and ignore the stares of the few people that are out so early.

6:15am Back at the house, before the sun comes up, rinse off, eat some fruit, change, etc.

6:50am Leave the house and walk down the street to catch a bus. My class isn't until 8:30 and it only takes 25 minutes or so to get there by public transport, but if I leave later it will be near impossible to get a bus during the morning rush, lasting until 9am or so.

7:15am Arrive at language school. Chat with one of the teachers for a bit then sit and look over my flashcards and listen to my Arabic recordings. (I have found this one of the most helpful tools to learn.)

8:30am...ok, 8:40am Class starts. I am currently taking 2 classes--the regular beginner course and reading and writing. Today was a reading and writing day. We are just at the beginning and learning the Arabic letters. How to pronounce them and write them. Oooo--it's hard. Arabic has some gutteral and throaty sounds that are really hard to make. Esspecially for girls and Americans. You know how in every class there is one person who kind of struggles and the teacher has to spend a little more time on? That was me today. There were simply some sounds I could not make. Everyone in the class (there's 9 of us or so, which is a pretty large class for the school) was having a hard time though and it was actually pretty funny. We laughed a lot today. My Arabic letters look a little like a child's scribbling. Me oh my! One of the toughest days at language school...er...probably the dumbest I have felt yet.

10:30am Class over. Enjoy a fuul sandwich (Egyptian beans on Sud. bread with some feta-like cheese, tomatoes, and sometimes some cilantro or arugula.) with some classmates then head off to the boys centre with J.

11:30am Still en route to the centre. Had a hard time getting a bus, then got on one that was nearly empty, so they stopped at every stop for a looonnnggg time waiting for people to come to fill it up.

11:50am At the centre. No program or activities planned for today, mainly went to just hang out with them. Greet all the staff and boys. Check on the stray puppy the boys have adopted, and ask one of the boys to get it some water. People don't really have pets here, at least not like we do, so they need a little help in taking care of it. I am pretty sure it didn't have any food or water the first 2 days they had it. Most of the boys were watching some awful Vin Diesel movie in English with Arabic subtitles. I don't know what it was but I watched it for maybe 15 minutes and it was just terrible. So I got up to go back outside. One of the boys asked me why I was leaving and I said I didn't like the movie. They laughed. I then played on a team with the domino game they play all the time. I still don't fully understand the rules but they are very forgiving.

1:00ish pm Some of the boys want to go fishing so J and I say we would be happy to tag along. They fashion poles and shower (not sure the reasoning behind that) and we head down to the Nile. It was a longer walk than I was expecting, later to find out that we took a long way, and we finally get there 45 minutes later. For whatever reason all the brickmaking is done by the river and also near the river is where a lot of poor people live and many prostitutes. A few of the boys families live there so we had to keep an eye on a few to make sure they didn't run off. By families, I mean mothers who make illiciet alcohol, sell their bodies, and live in shelters made of pieces of tin and grass. Many of the brickmaking men can also be pretty dangerous so the boys aren't really allowed down there by themselves. We get to the river and they play around for a little while then we head back. Didn't catch any fish, but there are plans to go again when they can spend more time down there.

3:30pm Get back to the centre, say our goodbyes and leave. Walk down to shop and buy some water and guzzle it all almost immediately. Get on a bus and head back. Getting home from this centre takes me 2 short bus rides. Luckily it was a good time of day and the buses were neither full nor empty. (If they are too empty you don't get anywhere quickly because they stop and wait for more people.)

4:00pm Get home, wash my face (it has been a suuuuuuper dusty day), guzzle some more water, eat lunch. Get things together for my Arabic lesson and review a bit of what we went over last time.

4:55pm Leave the house and walk down the street to Sana's house. Sana is the oldest of 6 kids, she is just a month older than I am, lives with her whole family and at least a few other people/relatives. I still haven't quite figured out who everyone is. They are Sudanese Muslims. Connected with her through another family on our team who is her next door neighbor. She is just lovely. Knows a decent amount of English, which is very helpful, is super sweet and patient. Couldn't ask for a better language helper.

5:05pm Get to Sana's. Knock a few times until a little boy I have never seen before answers the door. Greet everyone. Sana brings me water and juice and we get to work reviewing and going over new things. The new trendy thing in language learning is something called the Thompson method. The idea is to learn language the way a child does. By pointing and things and not speaking for the first while, just listening and understanding at first then moving one from there. So in our sessions I bring small toys, objects, and printouts of different pictures of things. I point, she says the words, then will test me on them. There is usually some sort of acting out commands involved as well. Like, the woman put the knife in the pot, or run to the door, or put the pencil under the chair. And I will point ot pictures or act out accordingly. I record the words throughout and also the commands and between sessions, while I cook or clean or whatever, I listen over and over and over so that it is stuck in my brain. It is working really well and I find these sessions to be the most helpful out of everything. We meet twice a week for 2 hours or so every session.

6:35pm We finish up a little bit early. Sana is keen to practice her English so we sit and chat for a little while afterwards everytime. Sometimes her Mom joins us, who also knows a good bit of English. Her youngest sister likes to pop in and out of whatever room we are in when I am there and giggles at us and sometimes will point to things and say what they are in Arabic. She's cute.

7:00pm Come home, eat some dinner, do the odds and ends I made a list of earlier today, check my email.

8:00pm Blog while eating a frozen banana.

A bit of a long day, not my longest, but a very good one. I am finding that in this climate my energy is not what it usually is. It doesn't take as much to wear me out. By this point of the day after travelling in the heat and the mental exhaustion of the languge I am usually pretty well zonked. Excited for whatever tomorrow has in store!