Year in Review

So it's been a year in Africa. A year ago I wondered about the kind of person I would be now. What the days ahead had in store. How I would change and grow. How I'd be feeling about life. I was hopeful...and a little scared.

I have been burglared, dealt with a rat issue, had a housefire. I've learned to navigate a totally foreign, kinda crazy city on my own. I've laughed a lot, cried a little, and sweat more than I ever thought possible. I've met some great people. And I've had to say goodbye to some of them already. I went from knowing absolutely no Arabic to being able to follow the words around me and engage in solid conversation. Still haven't come close to mastering the language, but I've heard that takes 20 years anyway.

I've fallen in love with some of the cutest, sweetest boys. I've taught them drawing, painting, sculpting. Some ideas have worked. Some have not. I like to think I've helped them start to think more creatively. See potential in themselves, and in the beauty God has put all around us. I've seen great improvements in some of them. With a little inspiration and encouragement they've started making some pretty awesome stuff from what most of their culture would deem garbage. We've even been able to sell it. Hoping this will keep on and expand into something great.

I have been the recipient of much more grace than I deserve. Other ex-pats here have countless times, gone above and beyond and out of their way for me. I am still continually impressed by the grace and understanding that the Sudanese people bestow on me and other foreigners. They have to be some of the loveliest, good-natured people on the planet.

I've mastered the use of a squatty potty and how to eat even flimsy, slippery food with my hand. I learned how to wrap myself in a tobe--the colorful sheet of fabric that mostly married women use as everday wear. (Though I have no intention of wearing one out anywhere in the near or distant future). I can lead an activity in Arabic and navigate my way through the city by bus. I've learned to be a brave pedestrian.

I have a ducaan man. A fruit and a veg guy. Kids I chat with on the street. I laugh and joke with people that couldn't be more different from me. I have a running rapport with my boys. I've made friends...and a life here.

I've gotten to see beautiful things. Safari in Kenya. Pyramids. Port Sudan. Street kids being changed by love. People hearing truth. Hungry kids being fed and doctored. Little ones try ice cream for the very first time. I've befriended young prostitutes. Held their malnourished babies. Watched them try to walk.

I've swam in the Red Sea, and the Nile. I've gotten really sick, but been mostly well. I've gotten lost, but am always found. I've felt uncomfortable, awkward, and occasionally offended. I know what it feels like to stick out all the time and have no sense of anonyminity. For the first time in my life I have less freedom that men, simply because of my sex. I've made stupid mistakes. I have had lucky successes. I've been able to talk about my faith. Learned that He gives us the strength for everyday. And that He doesn't waste a single moment or experience.

I've found ways to still feel like myself in the ever ebbing and flowing of the days here. I have held tight to the things that give me life and the fuel I need for the strength to get through the hard and stressful things. Time in the Word, journalling, cooking for myself, excersize (outdoors when I can!), creating. I've learned it's not selfish to take the Sabbath and the time to do the things that fill your soul. It is in those things that we delight, that we delight in God. We can love Him through the things and people He has given us to love.

I miss the people I love back home every day. And little things there. I look forward to setting foot on US soil again, though that day is still very far off. I'm fine with that. There has not been a day that I have despaired coming here. Life is not easy. This is a hard place to live. But never a day that I have questioned my being here. Questioned myself and my own strength maybe, but not His hand.
My biggest dream has come true. I live in Africa. It still seems too good to be true sometimes.

In looking back over this year and what has happened and whatever I have accomplished, I'm reminded that it's all part of a bigger picture. That the here and now is more than the here and now. God works through years and generations and history. And through obedient hearts. I believe that small things lead to big things and that sometimes the small things are the biggest things.
So I'm trying. Trying real hard. To be a good steward of time and resources. To take it all in and embrace the days. To enjoy life, share truth. Mostly to love well.

Happy one year Africa, I look forward for more to come.

Christmas Party

Saturday was the Christmas Celebration for the center's. I arrived in the morning in the midst of a flurry of activity all around. Cleaning, decorating, chair delivery, last minute things. You could tell that all of the boys were excited. There was that feeling in the air, you know? That sort of joyful expectation.

I helped decorate and made a last minute donkey mask. I chatted with boys and staff as everything was getting set up. We ate lunch and then the littlies got dressed in their new clothes and shoes that they had picked out at the suuk with the teachers. (Their main Christmas present). They were so cute. I watched as they eached walked proudly out of the dorm and waited to be noticed and doted on. Most of the clothes were a little loud. We're talking bright button down shirts, shimmery blue (or red or purple) jeans, and bright shoes. Precious.

A friend of ours, a very nice British man, agreed to dress up as Santa (aka Baba Noel) and give out presents to the younger boys. It was fun.

The program started a little while later, and people kept arriving and didn't stop. The boys of course (older, younger, and graduated), the staff and their families, people from the church right next to the center, friends, and quite honestly probably a few curious folks that wandered in from the street. A few hundred folks at least.

The older boys sang a few songs and read the OT prophecies. The littlies sang some songs (my favorite was "We Wish You a Merry Christmas") and acted out the Christmas story. Them dressed as angels was maybe the cutest thing I have seen all year.

It was a long day, but a really good one. Everyone, esspecially the boys, seemed to have a wonderful time. With all the decorating, excitement, singing and hoopla it really felt like Christmastime.

A white guy dressed as Santa didn't hurt either.

Another favorite moment of the night was later when the program was over and people were everywhere chatting. A young guy and his friend that I had never met before started asking me a few questions. I immediately know where the line of questioning is going. From "What's your name?" and "Where are you from?" to the not-so-subtle "So...how does someone get married in your town/country/village?" a few short minutes later. (Seriously. Every time.)

So as soon as I got the chance I said, "Oh I'm sorry, there's my friend I need to talk to!" and bee-lined.

A few minutes later I was talking with some of the older boys from the center and the two guys came over and interruped us and pestered me with questions about getting a visa to the US and when I was going back. These sweet teenage boys that I teach stepped in and were basically like "Dude, she's our teacher. Leave her alone. What do you want?" And they left. Thanks, boys! Wish I could keep them around with me all the time.

Today we had the presents and a little program with the older boys. (They're too cool for Baba Noel, of course). They got their results for the term, Christmas presents (new watches for each one), and I gave out the money that they made from the wire sculptures they made. It was lovely. They are all very motivated to get to work on more stuff. Yes!

Hope you are enjoying the holiday season as much as I am!

Success!

The last 2 months or so with the older boys I have been buying rolls of bendable wire from the tool shop and pretty much letting them go to town; providing some ideas and motivation along the way. The idea was to maybe make some stuff nice enough to sell. Some pocket money for them and a way of earning revenue for the center.

It was their first try making these sorts of things and I was pretty impressed with some of the creativity and ingenuity some of them pulled out.

One of my favorites.



On Friday was a Bazaar hosted by a local international elementary school. I bought a table with high hopes that the stuff would sell.





And it did! Not all of it, but probably 2/3 of what we brought. I was so pleased. There were a lot of people interested in what the boys were doing and in the centre's. Even got a few orders for items that sold quickly. (There were a few disappointed folks when the donkey cart coke can went fast!) I got so much postive feedback and it was such an encouragement. There was even a lady who works at a local resteraunt here (one of the more expensive ones, which already donates all of their day old bread/muffins/cakes to our centre's 2 days/week) and asked about the possibility of exhibiting some of it to sell on one of their days that they promote local artisans. Asked about even the boys coming to demonstrate and making candleholders or things for the resteraunt!

So I hope I can keep these boys motivated to keep making stuff. Some of them really enjoy it and are super gifted with it. So we'll see what happens, but I'm so happy. The lady who founded the centre's told me that this is the first time in 15 years that the boys have made anything that was not only sellable, but also that people showed such a serious interest in.

Yes!

On the way out one of the other tables who was selling some tools and art supplies and things stopped me to tell me to go pick out 200sdg (About $80) worth of stuff for the boys. I was able to get a bunch of pliers--which we really need to help make the wire stuff! As well as some other supplies. Such a gift!

People loved the bikes.

One of the boys cut up a 7 Up bottle and made sunglasses.

I feel so proud!

Talkin' Politics

Yesterday at one of the center's I sat chatting with some of the staff as we were eating lunch. One of them brought up politics--a subject that comes up with some regularity. He asked which of the parties I support in the US. I kind of smiled and waved my hand and said "Jesus." I said it with a little humor, but I meant it.

I explained that there were things about both of the parties that I didn't like. Then said, as I have repeated many times here, that I don't really like politics and I don't like talking politics. Explained that I don't know a whole lot about what is going on, though I do have opinions about certain things.

A bit later I commented how much men in Sudan like talking politics. One of the older male staff members said that it's different for me because no matter which party I support or don't, and even if I do or don't vote, that I'm still protected. Both parties secure my freedom. So I can afford to ignore it if I want to. He said that they are not free here. Depending on who is in power or not could change a lot in their lives. Esspecially for the believers here. It has happened and is happening that any day the government can show up at a church and claim the property and shut it down. There isn't flagrant persecution, but there are whiffs in the air of things that could be forthcoming. Read anything in the news about Sudan and you'll see that there is a lot going on here. There has been a great deal of fighting in some areas. A possible re-declaration of war. Rising prices. Growing political opposition. Hunger. Genocide.

It was such a good and true point that he made. And he did it without being at all condesending, which he could have been. That I take for granted the freedoms that I possess simply because of where I was born. How lucky are we that no matter who comes or goes in office, we are still basically free. Of course you can argue about certain freedoms being infringed on or whatever. But it doesn't even compare. Our quabbles over things are vaild, yes. But in light of the things going on here and elsewhere I feel really, really lucky.

A Dream and Some Thoughts

I've been having a lot of dreams lately. I don't remember most of them of course. But there was one a few nights ago; I had visited Africa in the dream and come back. Then I was back at LU for a bit, and here and there all over places where my life has been the last couple of years. I sort of groggily woke up (not quite awake) and couldn't remember where I was so I tried to guess before I opened my eyes. Then I opened them and here I was in my room in Sudan. It was a great feeling.

The weather has been perfect lately so I've been walking a lot more than usual. The other day I was walking through some dirt roads behind a small market with donkey carts around, men sitting and drinking tea, that sort of thing. I just smiled to myself because for years I would imagine myself around chickens, and people, and sun, walking on dusty roads and here I am doing it. I feel so lucky.

Christmas is coming and that's hard. Many of the people I've grown close to have either left or won't be around for Christmas. I keep skipping all the songs that talk about being home for Christmas in my Christmas mix. But there's also really great things. The Christmas party for the boys coming up this week. Getting to go shopping in the suuk for present for the staff kids. Getting prepared for sharing different parts of the Christmas story in Arabic for our language school party. Which presents lots of unique opportunities to enlist the help of our Sudanese teachers and friends in helping us translate and prepare for it--essentially getting to explain why His birth is a big deal and why He is a big deal. So that's pretty exciting.

Something else I've been chewing on lately is a discussion I was part of a little while back about a secure sense of self rooted in Christ. A jolly ol' fellow there said something I found to be very poignant. He said that Christ was perfectly confident in who he was. He knew that he came from God and that he was going back to God. That gave him the freedom and strength to be the person he was created to be.

It is a simple truth--but I had never heard it put that way before. And it's true. We have that same freedom too. We are from God and are going back to Him. Nothing should hold us back. Fear should be far away from us.

From The Message translation's introduction to 1&2 Samuel:
"...We don't have to fit into prefabricated moral or mental or religious boxes before we are admitted into the company of God--We are taken seriously just as we are and given a place in his story, for it is, after all, his story; none of us is the leading character in the story of our life. For the biblical way is not so much to present us with a moral code and tell us "Live up to this"; nor is it to set out a system of doctrine and say, "think like this and you will live well." The biblical way is to tell a story and invite us, "Live into this. This is what it looks like to be human..." As we submit our lives to what we read, we find that we are not being led to see God in our stories, but to see our stories in God's. God is the larger context and plot in which our stories find themselves."

'Quality of Living'

For those who may be interested, Khartoum was rated #217 out of 211 cities for quality of living. The survey is used by NGO's and government org's for pay rate and such for their overseas workers.

The article can be found here:
http://www.mercer.com/press-releases/quality-of-living-report-2011
And the criteria they used here:
http://www.mercer.com/articles/quality-of-living-definition-1436405

Now, I don't think that Khartoum is an easy place to live per se, but bottom 5?? It doesn't seem that bad!

Anyway, just thought that was interesting!

Girl in a Man's World

Being a single lady in a Muslim world is tricky. It's difficult. For whatever reason, this week esspecially I've been struggling with it a bit.

I was talking with one of my married male classmates the other day and we talked about public transport. I said that rickshaws were my least favorite mode of transport. He kind of laughed and asked why. He assumed, I suppose, because they are less than safe and some of the drivers are a bit careless. I told him it was because I didn't like the 1-on-1ness--that it usually leads to an uncomfortable situation. He was clearly surprised and asked if it really was an issue. To which I responded, "Yes! All the time." And it struck me that our lives here were very different in a lot of ways as foreigners here simply because he is a dude.

I'm not saying that all rickshaw drivers are bad fellows. And it's not just them. But young guys frequently make comments to me on the street. It's not a big deal. Its just, for whatever reason, happened with more regularity this week. I want to yell at them in Arabic sometimes. But I refrain, of course. However if anyone ever tries to touch me inappropriately or anything (which has happened to some lady friends here) I am fully prepared to yell at them and shame them. This is a culturally appropriate response to their culturally completely inappropriate behavior.

It's not just the comments either. Even just living as a single lady here is more difficult in many ways. My roommate and I have to take care of all of the stuff for the house ourselves. Stuff that men would normally do here--pay for the internet and electricity, buy the groceries, get the gas canisters filled, take care of repairs etc, we have to ourselves out of necessity. I know this is true for single gals even in the states too, but it's a bit different here because in those places (the electricity place, the market) it's always men in there and its a little weird that ladies are taking care of those things. And when you are the only lady in a place...it's just uncomfortable. I dunno. (BUT as a result of this situation I was forced to play plumber and I fixed our leaky toilet myself! Yay for new life skills!)

One last little complaint--I can't socialize with folks as much. I can't be chatty with my fruit guy or ducaan (corner shop) man. I have to feel a little bit rude sometimes as to be cautious not be overly friendly and therefore send across completely the wrong message. Its sometimes hard being culturally appropriate as a person that does not exist in that culture. Meaning--it's hard to do the right things sometimes or even know what the right things are when being a single 20-something female living alone--a persona that essentially doesn't even exist in this culture. I'm not sure if that makes any sense. I dunno, I can't make sense out of things half the time anyway.

I will say, though, that because it is such a male dominated society, there is a greater showing of chivalry here than I experience in the States. The bus actually comes to a complete stop for women to get on and off instead of rolling for men. When I'm looking a fool trying to carry a gas canister up to our second floor apartment the guy doing construction next door will help me. Some young guys were talking about me on the bus one day and an older man stopped them. Men have given me their seat on the bus before.

It's a weird sort of dichotomy. I dunno.

I think that this post was more clear in my head than in actuallity. For that I'm sorry.