Every Tounge

I really like my church here. It's bigger than you would probably think. Maybe 200 attending every Friday? I'm not so good with estimating, but that's my best guess. It's mostly African,  a few Asians, maybe 20% Western, if that. The worship is pretty great and the pastor shares the pulpit pretty frequently. We get to hear from people all over the world.

At the end of worship last week we were singing "How Great Thou Art" and the guy leading encouraged everyone to sing the chorus in their mother tounge. Just around me there was English, German, Swahili, and Arabic. But represented also were Filipino, and languages from Uganda, Algeria, Liberia, Ghana, Nigeria, Ivory Coast, and numerous others. It was beautiful.

Giving Thanks

In light of Thanksgiving I did some baking for the boys centers. On Wednesday last week I made glazed sugar cookies for the littlies center and the teachers. I explained about Thanksgiving and how it's a day where people don't work or go to school, and it's dedicated to family and food and being thankful. I said how some families go around the table and share what they are thankful for. So I suggested we have the boys go around one by one and say something they were thankful for. I started and said I was thankful I get to live in Sudan. Algheer, one of the teachers, said he was thankful for his 4 month old daughter. I sort of expected the boys to say all the same thing, but they did have some unique responses. There were a lot of thankfuls for the center and the chance to go to school. There were two "I don't know"s. One boy said that there are a lot of dead people, but he's not. To which Algheer responded jokingly, "You're happy a lot of people are dead!?" One boy was thankful that no one was sick that day. Another that they had food. One of the new boys, Abudu, said he was thankful that I came from America to teach them to draw. At the end of every day I literally pry the pencil from this boys fingers when I need to leave. It was precious.

I made a pumpkin cake for the older boys. I didn't ask them to go around with what they were thankful for, but I did explain about Thanksgiving and that it's a day for family. I told them they are like my family in Sudan. They applauded. I'm not sure if it was for the family comment or the cake, but they were happy all the same. I made a point not to tell them up front that there was pumpkin in the cake. In general the Sudanese palate does not like to try new things. Also, I'm learning that pumpkin in sweet things seems to be a really American thing. It's not unheard of in other Western countries, but it seems to be a lot less common. One of the teachers asked me what the ingredients were. I rattled them off and when I said pumpkin he said "Pumpkin?" I said "Yeah, pumpkin." ..."Pumpkin?!" "Yeah, pumpkin." Then he sort of laughed to himself. I guess you never know what these crazy foreigners will bust out. He encouraged one of the other teachers to try it and said I was an artist with food. Yeah!

My Thanksgiving day was nice. I had language school in the morning. Made an apple cake to share. In the evening I joined about 30 other Americans (10 of them were kids) and we had a  big potluck. No turkey or cranberries, but still a few of the classics--stuffing, mashed potatoes, yeast rolls, a pumpkin sort of mac and cheese, pumpkin pie, apple pie, among other things. It wasn't the same as being at home of course, but it was super fun and I was so thankful to have people to share the holiday with. We played games and I went to bed with a very overfull belly...as the holidays often go. Thankful!

Bits

There is a lot going on in my heart and life these days. I've tried a few times the last couple days to type it out into some sort of sense. It doesn't feel like anything worth sharing yet. This entry feels like a little bit of a cop out. I knew it was time to post something but I don't have any good stories or anything. There is a lot going on but it just feels like bits and pieces.

Our neighbors had a precious little baby and a few days later with no warning a giant tent was erected, literally, 6 inches from our front door and it was party day. People up and down our steps all day. My housemate was gone for the weekend but I knew I had to stop by. Make an appearance, if you will. So I went and ate, tried to chat, sat there awkwardly. My life. You begin to grow accustomed to these sorts of situations. Smiling and rolling with it are an art I'm beginning to grasp.

Part of last week and for a few days this week I'm substitute teaching at an international school for a friend so she could go to a wedding in Switzerland. Said friend left detailed and easy lesson plans. The class is fun and well behaved. One of the boys has the most expressive faces I have ever seen. One of the days was, all of the sudden, declared Muslim New Years and therefore a public holiday, so we all got the day off. So it's been a pretty easy gig. And I was promised some Swiss chocolate in return for my services. Can't beat that!

Today I was even given a ride home (no bus!) and as I was waiting I got to chatting with a few of the teaching assistants, who are all Sudanese. I started chattering away in Arabic with them (there is a no Arabic rule during school hours to get the kids who are mostly non-native speakers to become completely fluent.) They were impressed with my skills. Which, I think they are pretty easily impressed, but it was good encouragement all the same.

These next few weeks are buuuuusy. I am facing them with a tidbit of apprehension, but I know all will be fine. I love this time of year, even from afar. I'm feeling homesick, but I'm very thankful that I have community here to share the holidays with.

Hopefully next week I'll feel less frazzled (though that is unlikely) and I'll have something better/more interesting to share. Thanks for reading! Sorry if my posts are a let-down sometimes!

Obama and Sodas

This week I got many congratulations from lots of local folks about the re-election of Obama. When I was at the littlies center earlier this week I was sitting and eating lunch with a bunch of the teachers and staff. They were congratulating me and America and laughing. I asked why they like Obama so much and some of them pointed to their skin and said "Because he is black like us!" Also, the tribe that his father was from in Kenya has roots in Sudan, so often I will hear that Obama is Sudanese. People like that.

As we were eating one of the teachers pulled out some money to get one of the boys to go get some sugar to eat with the rice. (I don't get it either, but people eat it like that here often). One of the other teachers joked that he should buy sodas for everyone to celebrate Obama. (Any excuse for a fizzy drink, really). I said that if anyone bought sodas for that it shouldn't it be the only American? We all laughed about it but they were carrying on and it was so silly that I ended up doing it. I said I would buy for the boys as well. The director said "No, no, it's ok, just for the teachers." And I said "The boys aren't happy about Obama? Only the teachers?" They laughed and agreed I could buy for the boys too if I wanted.

When they got the sodas the director stood up and had them toast me and America and Obama. It was ridiculous and funny. One of the boys got confused and asked if Obama was going to be the president of Sudan. Ohhh my. Haha. But the boys didn't really care, they were just happy for an excuse for a soda.

A heart-swelling kind of day.

Tuesday was a great day. Last week while sitting in on the teachers meeting I agreed to be at the littlies center all day with Waheeba since none of the other teachers could. It was the last day of the holiday break and only about half of the boys were going to be there. Waheeba is older, super sweet, and one of those people that always seems absolutely, genuinely happy to see you. I like that in a person. Knew a day with her would be lovely.

The day started with a creeper next to me on the bus as I headed to the center, but for the first time I really stood my ground and at the end of it was happy with how I handled the situation. I didn't get loud, but I didn't stay quiet and I was pretty firm about my space. I had to assert myself a couple of times, but he finally seemed to realize that I wasn't going to give in and he spent the rest of the ride that I was stuck next to him with his head resting on his hands on the seat in front, defeated. Still annoying to deal with, but happy to finally feel victorious at the end of one of these scenarios!

I chatted with Waheeba about it a little bit once I got to the center. She was very proud of me for having 'courage' like a Sudanese girl. Encouraged me to raise my voice next time. It was nice to be able to chat with her about that. And other stuff. She was delighted to share her wisdom and made sure I knew I'm like a daughter to her. For the first while I was there we sat side by side chatting and mending the boys holey clothes. It was a joy.

Spent the day joking with the batch of new boys that came last week. (And the oldies, too). Tried to shower on them some of the love and attention they desperately need. I'm falling in love with a whole new set of precious trouble making boys with fuzzy heads.

This one new little boy, let's call him Salaam, came last week. He was a crying mess. Withdrawn and dramatic, with little glimmers of smiling moments here and there. He is a new little boy this week. He's active and happy. Ornery and loud. A little annoying to the other boys, actually, but they handle it well. He spent the day playfully taking my water bottle, walking on his hands, playing WWE with another little boy, and yelling for my attention. He's really young, probably 6 or 7, and super cute with big ol' ears and a gap in his mouth where he lost his first tooth last week. He had a big festering mess on his left leg last week and now with some proper care it is starting to heal up nicely. Waheeba was telling me that his mother and grandmother live on the street a little ways away. Poor as can be, addicted to glue, sickly. The center staff are starting to make more concentrated efforts to build closer relationships with the families of the boys so hopefully they can work to reach out to them as well soon.

Had a nice little drawing program with them in the afternoon. They're so funny. And generally respectful. And seem to be fond of me. All good things. One of the newbies was shocked to find out that I was not Ethiopian, but in fact, an American. Then Salaam tried to steal a bunch of erasers. He was (not so subtly) stuffing them into his pocket throughout the program. I recovered most of them. Later one of the older boys that has been staying there during the break came and returned one that I'd missed.

In the evening two of the boys started fighting.With fists, not words. They got punished for it. The initiator was spanked with a stick a few times, as is the standard. Pretty gentle corporal punishment for here, really. Afterwards the boy was sitting outside by himself crying a little. My heart absolutely swelled as I watched Asbuur (who I've talked about here and here) go sit down and talk with and comfort this little boy. Asbuur seems somewhat aloof and maybe like he doesn't care about a whole lot. I watched the interaction--older tough guy Asbuur (whom I admittedly have a soft spot for) comforting this new boy trying to adjust to center life and new people along with what assuredly is a tough past, likely involving abuse of some kind. A couple of years ago Asbuur was in the same place and it made my heart melt to see him investing in this little boy.

It was a day that I was able to sort of tangibly do some of the things that my heart longs to do. Loving on little ones that are desperate and starved for it. Laughing with them, chatting, mending their pants, sharing food, poking their bellies, and giving positive purposeful attention to them. A lot of times I sort of struggle with feeling helpless and pointless so a day like that is absolutely refreshing. And with passable Arabic to boot. Joy.

A Breather

Friday was Eid Al-Dahiyya. It's an important Muslim holiday. Each family buys and sacrifices, butchers, prepares, and eats a sheep. So the last few days involved seeing lots of herds of sheep around waiting to be sold, hearing the bleating of sheep from the hooshes of neighbors, and seeing a couple of sheep being slaughtered and skinned, as well as random pools of blood, piles of hide, and and occasional sheep head in the street. I even got the privilege  of watching four men do a not so graceful or speedy job of wrestling down a cow and killing it.

Enjoyed visiting some friends for Eid. They live in a nice quiet village-type area about 40 minutes outside of the city. It was a lovely visit. We spent a good part of the day there and had lunch with them. Pasta with ground beef and carrots, a tomato salad with lots of lime and parsley, rice with chickpeas, a yogurty-carrot-cucumber salad, and then stewed lamb. I've eaten lamb a couple of times here. Each time it is really tough and chewy and has a almost gamey taste to it. But at this friends house it was the best lamb I've ever had. Nicely spiced and tender. Almost the texture of pulled pork. I had seconds. Which says a lot as I was vegetarian for a few years before I came to Africa and try still to avoid meat as best as I can here. We doted over our friends beautiful 3 month old girl. We chatted about the ants this year, weather, the arms factory that was bombed this week, what a creative God we have and how that shows his love for us. It's nice to be able to share holidays and traditions with friends here.

Awhile ago we'd heard about a private beach on the Nile about and hour outside of the city. You pay a fee and get to swim in an actual bathing suit and spend a day at the beach without drawing a crowd of onlookers. So on Sunday two friends and I headed out. We had no trouble at any of the checkpoints and found it relatively easily to find and get there. (Landmarks involved a burnt bus, among other things.) There were a couple of other families there and we enjoyed a quiet, sunny day at the beach. I got to swim in the Nile for the first time without pants and a long-sleeve shirt on. We picnicked, kayaked, played cards, chatted, dozed, played with a puppy, and pulled some plastic chairs into the river and sat and read. It was a delight. Perhaps one of the highlights of the day, though, was on our way back. On the way there at one intersection we had seen a dog standing on top of some old car flying down the road. At the same intersection was a traffic officer who, as we drove by, we quickly asked if we were on the right road headed to jabal al-wiyya. He smiled and broadly gestured and loudly told us "Straight ahead!" On the way back at the same intersection, some 6 or 7 hours later, is the same traffic cop. As we drive past he smiles and happily says "Jabal al-wiyya!" We burst into giggles and then saw the same car surfing dog again! Talk about deja vous. It was crazy.

It was a lovely weekend, nice to have two days off of school and the routine. Back to it tomorrow! I was feeling like I could use a bit of a breather, and now I feel energized to, hopefully, make it through the next push until Christmas!

On Rickshaws

"Mash Allah" written on the front. Means "Go with God." Written on nearly all the rickshaws, amjats, and buses.

Up until the last few months rickshaws were my least favorite mode of transport here. Not just because the drivers are generally somewhat reckless or that I have seen many involved in accidents--mostly it's because I don't like the one-on-oneness of them. I dealt with a fair deal of inappropriate chatter my first while here. Lately that hasn't been a problem so much. Partly because I'm getting braver at being sassy when they get inappropriate, but mostly because I think I've just been lucky lately and not had to deal with too many creepo's.

I'm not sure how the Sudanese do it, but I was taught to bargain with the rickshaw driver beforehand. Most of the time I am not an aggressive bargainer. I wish I was. Usually I just prefer to pay the extra 20 or 40 cents or whatever than quibble over it. Every now and then I get into it, especially if their starting price is laughably high. But I usually know roundabout how much it should be to where I'm going and I offer a jineeh or so below that. Works well most of the time.

Sometimes I still forget to settle on a price up front. After explaining where I'm going and sometimes having to twice, I hop in and forget about agreeing on a price. When that happens I usually have some idea about what the price should be, but by that point you're kind of stuck. I will say that I haven't really encountered anyone here who has tried to gyp me by some exorbitant amount. Usually just a couple of pounds. Most are pretty honest though. I like that.

View from the Inside

I learned recently about a friends rickshaw paying strategy. She's been here for a good couple of years and never bargains up front. When she gets out she pays how much she thinks/knows it should be. I think this is how most of the locals do it. Sometimes though the driver starts to fuss that it isn't enough. So she turns around, smiles, and gets a piece of candy out of her bag and hands it to them. Says it works every single time. I believe it. They're either happy about this little gift from a khawajja or so thrown off or both that it seems to work. I think it's brilliant. Not sure if I'll give this strategy a whirl, but it's something to keep in mind.

We live close to a little rickshaw repair shop. There's always a bunch of guys there hanging out and fiddling with their rides. It's kind of cute. It kind of reminds me of a biker hangout or something. They mill reveling in their coolness. Nearly all rickshaw drivers are young guys. Most have little trinkets hanging from the windshield.  Some get really into is and literally have so much junk hanging from the front that you wonder how they even see out of it. At night you see some with fancy lights. Some even have little sound systems. Unfortunately I don't have a picture of any of the really decked out ones, but they make me smile every time. Though, I do avoid riding in those if possible. I like to think the driver can actually see out of the windshield at least. For the same reason I also avoid the ones with the drivers wearing sunglasses at night.

I like seeing how many people and things can fit into one rickshaw. They seat three people confortably in the back. You can squeeze four into the back seat, and up to two more squished up front next to the driver. If there are little kids you can fit even more on peoples laps and such. One day it was like watching a clown car unload. There had to of been at least four adults and four or five kids packed in. I have seen beds on top of rickshaws--not even tied down just being held by an arm on each side. Chairs on top. Large pieces of wood and other materials sticking precariously out of the sides. My favorite was the day I saw a rickshaw with just a goat riding along in the backseat.

While I don't rick it on a super frequent basis (I'm usually pretty content on the bus or walking), it's a nice option to have around. And, literally, they are always around. If I get stuck or I'm in a hurry it's easy to get on and rick it to wherever I need to go. It's nice to have options and to be able to get around the city relatively easily without having a car.

Irony.