Love without Words - May 13, 2008

Leprosy is something I've tried to visualize for many years as I've read about the miracles. Today was finally the day I'd been looking forward to for years. As we hiked a couple miles through the rain to reach the leper colony, I tried to prepare myself for what I was going to see. I didn't want to arrive in such shock that all I could do was stare at the deformities of their hands and feet. I didn't want to just sit in awkward silence with them. I wanted them to know I cared. a lot! The first few people I talked to proved to be difficult conversations. I don't speak Nepali and they didn't speak English. Any comment required a lot of hand motions and most of the time what we said in English and them in Nepali, had nothing to do with eachother. Language barriers are really difficult for me to accept. There had to be a different way to appoach this. I wanted to touch them. For them to know that I didn't judge or fear them. After all, each of these lepers had been sent to this camp away from their families because everyone believed God was juding them for their sin and they didn't want to catch it.

Paige and I decided to go back and sit with one of the ladies. If the silence wanted to be awkward, so be it. But it turned out to be an experience I'll never forget. I reached out for her hand and gave her a hand massage with lotion. I did this for probably fifteen minutes. The childish joy in her eyes made the hike completely worth it. When I finished she just kept rubbing her hands together, one against the other. I wondered how long it had been since her hands had been that soft. I still couldn't communicate with her in words, but that doesn't mean we didn't communicate. we shared pictures with her and just held her close. Everyday I think, "this was the happiest day of my life" but I think today really was. I learned that sometimes words get in the way. When we couldn't talk, we had to love. I probably won't forget the knobby hand I held, but even more, I'll remember her joy.

Freedom of prayer - July 14, 2008

Today was another street ministry day meaning we drove into a village far from Kathmandu and shared Jesus with the people. Something about sharing what I believe exhausts me more than anything else I know. I think it is because I care so much for these people. I want them to see the passion in my eyes, be convinced by my story, and accept the peace that I get to experience everyday. The village today was much more rural than some have been and the crowd was tiny. We went through our program of dance and puppets and drama and then spread out to share with the few we could. Nothing really seemed to come of it but it was still an opportunity to talk with the Nepali people. After a couple of hours we decided to try again in another part of the village instead of just leaving. We did a shortened version of the program near the entrance of the village gates. Just enough to attract their attention. Then we once again reached out to the villagers. My group was blessed with one of the three translators. We ended up finding a Christian woman and we were invited to her house for tea. With permission of the team leaders and the company of the translator we walked the short distance to her home. It was tiny. Literally. I couldn't stand up in it. We drank water and even ate the food she placed in front of us. We are now all praying that we don't get sick, but even if I do, it was worth it. To spend 20 minutes in her life. Before we left we asked if we could pray for her and her family. She got very quiet, looked around her small business ( a two table restaraunt) and ushered us into the back room. We sat at one table and prayed in English and them at another in Nepali. Normally we would have prayed together and with the translator. But afterwards she explained to us that if her neighbors knew she was Christian she would lose all of her customers. It suprised me. The sacrifice that Christianity means to those living in a Hindu nation. I'll be praying for her and her village. God is starting to do amazing things in Nepal. But the Nepali people have an extra dose of faith I hope to learn from in the next two weeks.

Nepal

I don't even know wher to start. The smells, the sights, the heat, the people, the city lights at night, the temples, the prayer, the excitement. It has been overwhelming. I love the Nepali people and way of life. Just this afternoon I walked into a home of one of the girls we met on the streets of Kathmandu. Her house was on the third floor of a rickety building missing stairs and walls. Her home was smaller than my dorm room will be and five people live in it, cook in it, and clean in it. It made my heart break for the milionth time this week. Today we also went to a home for girls that have been rescued from the sex trade down into India. The home had 20 girls, some of them as young as 12. We sang songs and tried to communicate as well we could in our own native tongue. I can't imagine what they have already experienced at such a young age but how they still manage to find joy. All of these girls have been exposed to HIV and some of them even suffer from it, but the home is devoted to educating them and getting them back on their feet. The last week has been a blur. I can't even begin to explain how much this has changed me. My favorite thing to do is tell others about Christ and what he has done for me and them. Every day for the last week I've been able to share with many women in the outerlying villages of Kathmandu. Not all experiences were rewarding or encouraging to me. But that's not why I'm here. It's all about glorifying God and giving them the chance to accept his love and forgiveness. I'm ashamed to say that when I got here, sharing was the last thing I wanted to do. It's hard to walk up to someone, get to know them, and then just share what I believe with them. I came for the orphans, the poor, the lepers. And I've enjoyed loving on them through my actions. But I'm also learning to share my faith and it is so exciting. I may not see the harvest, but someone down the road will and can be encouraged by it. I have many stories but I have to run. Keep me in your prayers and all the people we have been able to talk with in the last week.

When you think no one is watching...

This morning was perhaps one of the best I've had in quite some time. As much as I enjoy a bit of time to myself, the last few days being home alone have completely cured that need. After dropping Melissa off at school I was on my way home and became very carsick. I've been told you can't be carsick while driving, but apparently you can. Anyways, I stopped at a park to give myself a chance to undizzify. There was one other car in the parking lot, but after walking the loop, I appeared to be alone. I sat on a bridge over the creek for quite some time admiring the detail I could see thanks to my glasses. Up until the point that my bones ached from the cold I just sat there, avoiding the business taking place outside of my secluded bubble. Once I could take it no longer I finished my loop around the park. However, I couldn't just pass the baseball field. With a quick glance around I confirmed that I was still alone. Then, rejoicing over my American rights as a woman, I thankfully ran around the baseball diamond jumping exageratedly on each base. It was quite a display. I looked across the field with a contended look on my face....to be met by an amused look by my bystander. haha. oops. Whoever you were, I hope you are having a good day. And thank God I thought I was alone because that was just too much fun to pass up. I'm off to take a warm shower. :)

One week from tomorrow....

With a box, a backpack, and a half a dozen hugs I'll be back on a plane. I can't wait. Three years later than I would have previously liked I am finally off to Nepal. I don't know what to expect. I don't even know if I am going to be hot or cold there, but I know it's an experience I can't wait to start. Oops, I lied. I know to expect one thing. The language is quite difficult. I was hoping to make a small dent in it before I got there. It's not that I need to learn it. We have translators and all that jazz. But, why not learn another? Well here's a good reason....This supposedly means I love you:

ma timilai maya garchu

try saying that 5 times fast without a smile. :)

How to close a book....

I've put off writing this post for some time now. Somewhat from a lack of time, and mostly from a lack of words. My last two weeks in the Dominican Republic went so quickly that I never managed to journal or post blogs. And now, I have somehow passed another two weeks back at home. It all seems somewhat of a blur. It is still hard to look at pictures of my kids. I feel like I am grieving, I miss them all so much.
For those of you who have experienced return culture shock, maybe you can understand. And for those who haven't, well, you are blessed. I expected to receive some level of culture shock when entering another culture. The food is strange, they dress different, they talk different, they even drive different. I suppose once I had fully adapted to the Dominican however, America became a foreign culture. Strange, I know. But now the people seem to walk so fast, the schedules are so full, the food so strong and rich...I am afraid my list goes on. They tell me that eventually I will feel back at home here. But for now, every big house, every full refrigerator, every supermarket, every radio station, every bright light, and every conversation reminds me that I am back in America. Which isn't a bad thing except that more than half of the people I love live in a third world country very far from me.
However, before I become to distracted on this tangent of culture and how shocking it is, a brief closure of my last nine months. First of all, I find it interesting to remember my expectations when I arrived compared with the end results.

Expectation: Teach 1st through 8th grade English
Result: Teach 5th through 8th grade and Juniors and Seniors English, Teach 5 piano students
Expectation: Live in a home with young children
Result: Live in a home with 15-25 year old girls

My 2 main expectations and they were both wrong. However, I love my students, and I am so glad I lived with my sisters. Sometimes God's results are way better than my expectations. A few of my expectations were met. They really did speak Spanish and I really did learn it after humorous mistakes and hours of practice. Most importantly, I really did learn a lot and my life will never be the same.

I realize that this post is all over the place. It's unorganized, maybe even frustratingly so. But it's where I am right now. In between phases. No longer in another country, but not quite back. My heart and my body have been temporarily disconnected. It's a painful process. On the flight back as Kayla and I sat by each other trying to accept that the hugs we had just given were goodbye, we made the following conclusion. Perhaps it is easier to never leave home. Never take risks. Never adapt to other cultures. Never fall in love with a people other than your own. We decided that was our fix. To get home and never ever leave again. It was just to painful to put everything we had into something that we eventually said goodbye to. Of course it's not a reasonable solution. Especially considering I plan to leave again in less than three weeks. I've learned that not only do the things worth having require hard work, but they may even end before you are ready.

I suppose these are the points I am getting to:
1. I made it. Through the year, and back home safely in the end. Thank you for your prayers and support!
2. My life will never be the same. People keep telling me that I am the same that I was 9 months ago. Perhaps I still walk the same, dress the same, and have most of the same friends. But what I have seen, experienced, and overcome cannot be erased. Hopefully some day people other than me will be able to see how this whole thing has changed me, but if not, I know and that's really all that matters.
3. I have to accept closure. Coming back in the end was planned and necessary. I have school to finish and in four years time, I can commit to as many years of mission experience as God has in store for me. However, closure doesn't have to mean forgetting. I never want to forget the strength of my students or their laughs, smiles, drawings, broken english, special music, dirty uniforms, frogs, dirty water, rice and beans, well, you know what I mean.

So that's it. After pages of journal smudged with dirty fingerprints and wet with humidity, I close. But not a book. Just a chapter...

Rats, Hopscotch, and Lyrics

I live in the Dominican Republic. For you that may create a picture of some beautiful tropical island and cute children by my side. To me, that means that I live in a house with eighteen loud people yelling all the time in another language for no particular reason. When I arrived they tried to explain to me that they were merely talking and not upset. Now that I understand what they are saying and not just the tone, I realize that for the most part, that’s true. They are great people, just not real aware of noise volumes. However, Tuesday morning I woke up to more chaos than normal. When I made it to the kitchen I found a bucket in front of the sink, the stove pulled out from the wall, and our dad sticking a broom behind the cabinets. The rats were back. The excitement didn’t die down until we had left for worship in the church. After school I heard rumors that one of the rats had been taken care of. I am assuming it was the one that used to visit our room at night because our things have stopped jumping off the shelves in the middle of the night. It’s somewhat of a relief considering I sleep on the floor.

Since the last time I wrote, the weather has really changed. Our supposed rainy season lasted for five days and then moved on. Thank goodness. During those five days we were stuck inside for hours hoping the sky would clear. Music lessons were cancelled, church and canchas postponed, and no one dared walk outside without an umbrella. I’ve heard various excuses of why ranging from pretty hair, to sicknesses you can get from the rain. I’m really not sure myself. I sat on the couch with the girls learning everything from their favorite color, to favorite food, to favorite country to visit. You can learn a lot about a person during a five day rainy spell. Now the rain is gone. Instead the air is thick and hot and we sit inside for the opposite reason. I’m afraid the grass will always be greener on the other side.

I’ve determined to start exercising. It’s always one of those notable goals I carry in the back of my head and only accomplish on the most boring of days. Ironically, I am writing this letter during the exercise slot in my day. :) However, for the most part, at least this last week, I have been much more successful. You may find it entertaining to know exactly what a successful cardiovascular workout amounts to. I am afraid that with the heat and especially the direct sunlight, I gave up running after 2 ½ weeks. Now, I turn on my iPod, put on my tennies and begin my multiple patterns of hop scotching across my tiled floor. It doesn’t sound like much but twenty minutes of tile jumping can really be a work out. You should try it. If you figure out any interesting patterns let me know. :)

I can’t believe that I barely have a month left here. In some ways it has been a really long year. I feel like I’ve known these people forever and lived here for half my life. But at the same time, there is no way that I am already nearing the end. I received a letter last week that I wrote to myself before I left almost a year ago. At the time that I wrote the letter, I had spoken random Spanish phrases with humorous grammar. I had decided to write myself in Spanish so that I could appreciate how much I improved in just 1 year. I couldn’t help but laugh as I read the phrases that had been so painfully hard to put together. It was a good reminder to realize where I had started. Even if I get after myself for stuttering every once in awhile in class, the fact that I can impromptu my lesson plan in another language is a huge improvement. Well, the tile jumping is calling my name and not much else has been happening here. But I hope everyone else is taking advantage of their last few weeks of the school year. I miss you all. In the chance that I don’t know you and you just happened to stumble across this page, I wish you the best as well. I’ll leave you all with these lyrics from one of my favorite songs. It’s a Brandon Moore song titled “Selfish Me.”

And I know that I can’t serve both you and me.
And I know a house divided cannot stand.
And it’s time to stop pretending I can do it on my own.
It’s time to give you everything I am.
So I’m laying down my life. Picking up your cross,
Taking all this gain and counting it as loss.
In a world of false I’m finding it so true.
Sometimes I’ve got to let go of me so I can hold onto you.

Pictures: My 8th grade class treasure hunt, Yessica during the family Olympics, All of my sisters, Me and Cessarina (9th grade).