Dear God of crazy love,
Please give us the courage to be unashamed of our brokenness.
The Grace to see You through the pieces of others
And the transparency to let our shards outline Your face
Tuesday, December 30, 2008
Splashing Colors
To my wonderful blessings back home and abroad,
Merry Christmas! The ship has been transformed. Filled with Christmas music and smiles and anticipation. There has never been a hum drum rhythm here, but I am now distinctly aware of the dancing, sparkling cadence of the white lights strung up and down banisters and trees and ceilings.
They had a Christmas sale here, where the families or creative individuals could sell their creations, there was handmade jewelry and stamped cards and cookies and decorations. And there was free apple cider. I couldn't help but think of the winter carnival parade back home and the adventures of handing out free hot cocoa.
The Norwegians held a Santa Lucia celebration. All in white with wreaths of candles on their heads.
And there was star-gazing and Christmas caroling in mid-ships and we even had our very own Santa Clause!
Christmas Eve; we went out to soak up more of the rich Spanish culture in Tenerife. Out to observe the street musicians, the opera house that looks like the one in Sydney and the parks and pools and perfectly manicured flowers that seem to be everywhere. That night the dining room became some great and glorious hall for lords and ladies. Everyone dressed up. And everything was decked out in that glowing way that only comes at Christmas time. And we all were awed by the extravagance and care put into it all. And then we had a worship service and sang "a North American Christmas carol." (Oh Come, oh Come, Emmanuel.) The service was beautiful, and thought provoking and I missed you all.
And it all makes me feel once again like a wide eyed child; drinking in the vitality of every moment. They change, hour to hour, day to day, year to year, lifetime to lifetime. And some make me feel numb and others make me more sensitive. And they are all so acutely felt because they contrast. Like our crazy Creator splashing colors. Using our souls as a canvas in this painting that is so much more insanely beautiful than our saneness can comprehend.
Sunday, December 21, 2008
Have you ever gone out having absolutely no idea what the day will bring? Going out, getting out simply to be out? We began yesterday morning like that, simply walking towards the road, having no doubt that we would indeed find something interesting to do. And God blessed that. On our way out, we met a group of people going to the top of the famous volcanic mountain, La Montania Tiede. They had enough spots, so we went. It was so fun and exciting and refreshing. We went 3/4ths of the way up the mountain and waited for the others. The cable cars to the top were rather expensive. Thus we squandered away two perfectly good hours, having heaps of fun and taking lots of crazy roommate pictures. We climbed on top of the Land Rover and posed on rocks and by plants, all the while those jagged Mountains staring down at us...thoroughly and unashamedly being tourists. The landscape was filled with winding roads and cacti and sand and layers of red and yellow rock that reminded me of Arizona.
We sat and chatted in the open cafe, enjoying the sun and the stunning view. The rest of the group came back down, panting and red cheeks and grinning. They dropped us off in town. We wondered around taking in all the sights. And went to a huge shopping center overwhelmed with choices and colors and posing to take crazy hat pictures. It was like a scene from one of those horrendously blond movies with all the giggling girls having fun shopping...except ten times better.
After that we found an open air restaurant and all of us ordered salads. It was such a luxury to have real, fresh, greens and we enjoyed it thoroughly. Each of us are trying to enjoy every moment with each other before, Ellen and Chelsea leave (tomorrow) and Dorothy leaves Tuesday. :(
Today I went to the "La Supermercado de la senora de Africa." They call it the African market, but it is basically like a huge garage sail. There were many Africans and native Americans there, selling jewelry and carvings along side the Spanish natives. It was so fun just to go to be out and wonder around and practice a bit of Spanish with Dorothy.
We got back to the ship around 1pm. I sat on deck 8 to get away from our now sana-like room and did another chapter in Re-entry. I had that amazing "now" feeling. Like I was supposed to be reading it and taking notes and being there at that moment. It made me happy. I'm happy here. I realized that every place in the world is beautiful, in it's own unique way, you just have to find that beauty and hold on to it.
Tonight we had dinner out for Ellen and Chelsea. It was good just to be with them all laughing and talking about our wonderful and crazy families and freezing as the temperature dropped. Tomorrow I work. With a whole new team. So goodbye mis amigos, and God bless!
We sat and chatted in the open cafe, enjoying the sun and the stunning view. The rest of the group came back down, panting and red cheeks and grinning. They dropped us off in town. We wondered around taking in all the sights. And went to a huge shopping center overwhelmed with choices and colors and posing to take crazy hat pictures. It was like a scene from one of those horrendously blond movies with all the giggling girls having fun shopping...except ten times better.
After that we found an open air restaurant and all of us ordered salads. It was such a luxury to have real, fresh, greens and we enjoyed it thoroughly. Each of us are trying to enjoy every moment with each other before, Ellen and Chelsea leave (tomorrow) and Dorothy leaves Tuesday. :(
Today I went to the "La Supermercado de la senora de Africa." They call it the African market, but it is basically like a huge garage sail. There were many Africans and native Americans there, selling jewelry and carvings along side the Spanish natives. It was so fun just to go to be out and wonder around and practice a bit of Spanish with Dorothy.
We got back to the ship around 1pm. I sat on deck 8 to get away from our now sana-like room and did another chapter in Re-entry. I had that amazing "now" feeling. Like I was supposed to be reading it and taking notes and being there at that moment. It made me happy. I'm happy here. I realized that every place in the world is beautiful, in it's own unique way, you just have to find that beauty and hold on to it.
Tonight we had dinner out for Ellen and Chelsea. It was good just to be with them all laughing and talking about our wonderful and crazy families and freezing as the temperature dropped. Tomorrow I work. With a whole new team. So goodbye mis amigos, and God bless!
Friday, December 19, 2008
Ola!
Ola mi amigos. Que tal?
We are currently in "Santa Cruz de Tener Reef." One of the Canary Islands. We reached there at 6am yesterday. The morning we had a crew briefing about how to get transport etc. Our usual port is being occupied by a Spanish naval vessel, so we're currently at a port under some construction and a little farther out of town.
From our still sea-salty windows, the towns look like white snow in valleys of the jagged volcanic rock mountains. But up close you see it's towns perched in between these mountains. The stucco buildings and yellows and browns give it a distinct Spanish feel. I sat up on deck seven and tried to drink it all in; the perfect temperature that felt like fall in New York, the sunlight I had to squint through to see the towns, the silence and stillness of the ship. It gave me a kind of refreshing energy.
Friday night we went out to eat. We caught a bus to the more central part of the island and began wondering looking for el restaurante. We saw several other groups of Mercy Ships people. And stopped at a little restaurant. It is so nice not to have to rely on the ship for bathrooms and food and lighting etc. We found ourselves comparing everything. We got water in blue glass bottles with wine glasses. And the water wasn't brown like on the sail. And they served the food on fancy plates that I wasn't going to wash. We didn't order rice. :) I found myself desperately trying to drink it all in. It seemed impossible to fully enjoy the taste of the food. I was too busy trying to enjoy the soft Spanish music and the glowing white lights decking every tree and the alley filled with red awnings and little corner shops and restaurants. And how every woman looked like she had walked out of a fashion magazine and the little dogs on leashes and the couples strolling up and down and the simple aura of it all. I could have just sat there for hours gazing around. It was exactly how I always imagined Italy to be like, except, of course, Spanish.
It all felt so dreamily extravagant. One part of me wants to embrace this elegant European culture, and another part of me looks at it all with skepticism as I recall the dust and heat and living in Liberia.
We went to have ice cream. I suppose every culture and place has it's own unique way of serving ice cream. In New York we stop by a little ice cream stand called Donelle's before we turn into our road. They serve two flavors of soft ice cream, depending on what day it is. And only in the summer. In Liberia they sell ice cream in metal carts that they wheel around. It is usually yellow and pink and served with little tiny scoops in little tiny cones, but it tastes like the best ice cream in the world. In Tener Reef Spanish men in bow ties sell it in little ice cream shops with the flavors lined up under the glass and big sugar cones.
It's all refreshing and new to me and it's easy to understand why it's a great respite place after an outreach and before the new one in Benin.
We are currently in "Santa Cruz de Tener Reef." One of the Canary Islands. We reached there at 6am yesterday. The morning we had a crew briefing about how to get transport etc. Our usual port is being occupied by a Spanish naval vessel, so we're currently at a port under some construction and a little farther out of town.
From our still sea-salty windows, the towns look like white snow in valleys of the jagged volcanic rock mountains. But up close you see it's towns perched in between these mountains. The stucco buildings and yellows and browns give it a distinct Spanish feel. I sat up on deck seven and tried to drink it all in; the perfect temperature that felt like fall in New York, the sunlight I had to squint through to see the towns, the silence and stillness of the ship. It gave me a kind of refreshing energy.
Friday night we went out to eat. We caught a bus to the more central part of the island and began wondering looking for el restaurante. We saw several other groups of Mercy Ships people. And stopped at a little restaurant. It is so nice not to have to rely on the ship for bathrooms and food and lighting etc. We found ourselves comparing everything. We got water in blue glass bottles with wine glasses. And the water wasn't brown like on the sail. And they served the food on fancy plates that I wasn't going to wash. We didn't order rice. :) I found myself desperately trying to drink it all in. It seemed impossible to fully enjoy the taste of the food. I was too busy trying to enjoy the soft Spanish music and the glowing white lights decking every tree and the alley filled with red awnings and little corner shops and restaurants. And how every woman looked like she had walked out of a fashion magazine and the little dogs on leashes and the couples strolling up and down and the simple aura of it all. I could have just sat there for hours gazing around. It was exactly how I always imagined Italy to be like, except, of course, Spanish.
It all felt so dreamily extravagant. One part of me wants to embrace this elegant European culture, and another part of me looks at it all with skepticism as I recall the dust and heat and living in Liberia.
We went to have ice cream. I suppose every culture and place has it's own unique way of serving ice cream. In New York we stop by a little ice cream stand called Donelle's before we turn into our road. They serve two flavors of soft ice cream, depending on what day it is. And only in the summer. In Liberia they sell ice cream in metal carts that they wheel around. It is usually yellow and pink and served with little tiny scoops in little tiny cones, but it tastes like the best ice cream in the world. In Tener Reef Spanish men in bow ties sell it in little ice cream shops with the flavors lined up under the glass and big sugar cones.
It's all refreshing and new to me and it's easy to understand why it's a great respite place after an outreach and before the new one in Benin.
Monday, December 15, 2008
Sailing
"Sailing, sailing, over the ocean blue..."
We are sailing. It was Friday. 2:00pm The crew waved from deck seven and eight as we made our way out of port. And I realize that I ready. Ready to have a break from the in tenseness of it all. And I will miss it and the children and great expanse of healing and possibilities and dreams stretched before that war-ravished country. But I am ready. And perhaps some day when I am older I will come back to see how it has changed and grown.
It never occurred to me that sailing was anything more than wonderfully romantic. The wind in my hair. I could see myself spending hours on deck eight. And watching the waves. As we headed out of dock and the ship began moving and we faced the seemingly endless ocean I felt this sense of crazy freedom.
However, there is more to sailing. After a few hours, we were all feeling rather drowsy and found ourselves stumbling around. It was hard to focus on my work. I eventually had to go down to our room to lay down. Because my bed is positioned perpendicular to the bow, the rocking gives the impression of a slinky. Up and down, head to toe. Whenever I stood up it felt like an elevator that wouldn't stop moving. One moment you feel weightless and the next you are being brutally ground down into the floor by gravity. It feels like the ocean is in your stomach.
The second day was farely better. It was calmer. But everyone was still drowsy. Sunday was misery once again. Today, although the ship still bounces up and down, I am feeling better. I finally caved and took some kids motion sickness pills. I decided it was better to be high and happy and able to function, than entirely sane and miserable and not able to do anything. It's the best up on one of the open decks. It's super windy, but the sun is warm. I've heard that it's also something with the relationship between your eyes and your inner ear.
At times the sun is blinding on the water. It is a dark blue, but when the sun shines, it looks like molten silver all the way out to that smooth sky. The sky fades white at the very horizon and then darkens to a more sky blue up above. I am surprised at the size of the waves. The white foamy wash sweeping out from the sides of the ship and the cresting whitecaps, like thousands of snowy peaks being covered by this navy blueness.
So goodbye my landlubbers
In snowy landscape
In warm little houses
As cookies you make
Don't you forget
As you carol away
As you decorate trees
Remember to pray
There's a girl on a ship
In oceans so deep
Loving an missing you
Even in sleep
So goodbye my landlubbers
Remember to pray
For that girl far away
Feeling cold ocean spray
We are sailing. It was Friday. 2:00pm The crew waved from deck seven and eight as we made our way out of port. And I realize that I ready. Ready to have a break from the in tenseness of it all. And I will miss it and the children and great expanse of healing and possibilities and dreams stretched before that war-ravished country. But I am ready. And perhaps some day when I am older I will come back to see how it has changed and grown.
It never occurred to me that sailing was anything more than wonderfully romantic. The wind in my hair. I could see myself spending hours on deck eight. And watching the waves. As we headed out of dock and the ship began moving and we faced the seemingly endless ocean I felt this sense of crazy freedom.
However, there is more to sailing. After a few hours, we were all feeling rather drowsy and found ourselves stumbling around. It was hard to focus on my work. I eventually had to go down to our room to lay down. Because my bed is positioned perpendicular to the bow, the rocking gives the impression of a slinky. Up and down, head to toe. Whenever I stood up it felt like an elevator that wouldn't stop moving. One moment you feel weightless and the next you are being brutally ground down into the floor by gravity. It feels like the ocean is in your stomach.
The second day was farely better. It was calmer. But everyone was still drowsy. Sunday was misery once again. Today, although the ship still bounces up and down, I am feeling better. I finally caved and took some kids motion sickness pills. I decided it was better to be high and happy and able to function, than entirely sane and miserable and not able to do anything. It's the best up on one of the open decks. It's super windy, but the sun is warm. I've heard that it's also something with the relationship between your eyes and your inner ear.
At times the sun is blinding on the water. It is a dark blue, but when the sun shines, it looks like molten silver all the way out to that smooth sky. The sky fades white at the very horizon and then darkens to a more sky blue up above. I am surprised at the size of the waves. The white foamy wash sweeping out from the sides of the ship and the cresting whitecaps, like thousands of snowy peaks being covered by this navy blueness.
So goodbye my landlubbers
In snowy landscape
In warm little houses
As cookies you make
Don't you forget
As you carol away
As you decorate trees
Remember to pray
There's a girl on a ship
In oceans so deep
Loving an missing you
Even in sleep
So goodbye my landlubbers
Remember to pray
For that girl far away
Feeling cold ocean spray
Wednesday, December 10, 2008
God....
This world
Filled with beauty
We perverted it
And polluted our souls with it
And You went
Into the searing pain
And beauty
And muck of this mortal life
To wipe off our sin smeared souls
And put together hearts
We had ground under our heals
So in the end
All that is left
Is Your finger prints
"Whatever is true
Whatever is noble
Whatever is right
Whatever is pure
Whatever is lovely
Wahtever is admirable
If anything is excellent or praiseworthy
Think about these things." Philipians 4:8
This world
Filled with beauty
We perverted it
And polluted our souls with it
And You went
Into the searing pain
And beauty
And muck of this mortal life
To wipe off our sin smeared souls
And put together hearts
We had ground under our heals
So in the end
All that is left
Is Your finger prints
"Whatever is true
Whatever is noble
Whatever is right
Whatever is pure
Whatever is lovely
Wahtever is admirable
If anything is excellent or praiseworthy
Think about these things." Philipians 4:8
Monday, December 1, 2008
God and Glue
To my dearest wonderfuls back home who have been a constant joy...I miss you all.
So much has happened since I last wrote to you all. I will try to give a brief glimpse.
Her Excellency the president of Liberia: Ellen Johnson Sirleaf came on board to give an official thank you speech to Mercy Ships for their service to her country. I suppose it all started with the frantic preparation...both teams scrubbing floors, windows, walls, moving highchairs, and in general touching nooks that seemed untouched for years. The whole place looked brighter. And then we left it up the the amazing hospitality people to transform it. And transform it they did. Sparkling glasses and saucers and rows and rows of handmade desert bars and decorations. It was glorious. Ellen ( my roommate ) and I snuck down via the galley and watched wide eyed as all the escorts and guards milled around in the dining room. We listened to her speech in the International lounge. It was beautiful and heartfelt and I was awed and honored. The entire meeting to just a fraction of the preparation time, but it was well worth it and I'll never forget it.
Saturday Costume Party! Our entire cabin seemed to have been sewing for days and planning for many more. We had snow white and a character from a Jane Austen novel, and we had a rose/cupcake. I was Esmerelda, from Hunch back of Notrodame. Each person came up to say what or who they were. I was so impressed with the creativity...There was A little white lie, Sponge Bob, Laura Ingalls, etc etc etc. And then afterwards we all went up to the Queens Lounge to celebrate Jeneen's Birthday. She was Jane Bennet. We had cake and talked and talked and talked. It was the perfect end to a gold-tinged day.
Last Sunday I went to the Pillar of Holy Fire church for the last time. I had gone there faithfully when I first came to Liberia. I had forgotten how serene and beautiful it was. No loud blaring speakers or keyboard or shouting or pews. The front is open and it has three walls woven of reeds. There is space between the between the walls and the ceiling...supported by wooden polls...that lets the sunlight filter in the whole way around the room. And they have wild flowers tied to the walls. The goodbye service was golden. I cried. The music...voices and drums and shakers. And then we had a lunch of oranges and banana chips and cookies afterwards. And I got to hold the beautiful children, carefully stowing away their faces in my memory.
That Tuesday the vice president of Liberia came to the ship. This time they catered the event. I had been flu-ish sick since Monday so I missed it, but they told me all about it. I'm 99%recovered and did Swimmer's Watch with Ellen yesterday from 12-2am. It was also the first day I worked. Swimmers watch was fun-I called it my firefly job.
Today the day workers left. We had the best Liberian lunch ever and anyone that had ever worked on the ship came. We had a big thank you service in the international lounge. It was beautiful. And sad. Last night I went to the prayer room on deck 2 and prayed the God would grant a graceful closure and blessing on their work here as well as abundant blessings on each one's life. Today we prayed for the day workers in the galley and dining room and there were hugs all around. And then May-Ellen left at 5pm. We are down to 6 in our room and 3 on our dining room team. Too many goodbyes. But God is the glue that holds us together in spirit.
And that is why, my dearest wonderfuls, I am constantly reminded of the blessing you all have been to me. And in all this craziness called life, blessings on you to.
Tuesday, November 25, 2008
Overwhelmed but loving life
I need some major prayer for the next few days:
Yesterday I baked for a surprise birthday party. However we just found out that the whole time when we had been planning the surprise birthday another group had been...for the same person...at exact same time. What can I say? Great minds think alike. We already gave out invitations, so now we're trying to work something out. Just pray that God would totally infiltrate everything and it would go smoothly and be beautiful.
And then tomorrow the president of Liberia is coming for a Thank You Service. We're not working then, but have offered to help and there's tons of cleaning and preparation to be done since the dining room will be the main welcoming place. No one is allowed through the dining hall and everyone has to pack their lunch. Breakfast will stay open later than usual..and it just seems like a whole bunch of stuff to remember and help with.
And then on the 6th of December there is going to be blackout on the ship because they're cleaning the engines. So we'll to help prep all cold foods for that. We've been working at making reservations to stay at a nearby beach with nice cabins to rent. Please pray that it would go well.
Aka: I'm currently overwhelmed but loving life all the same...and a little bit of me is looking forward to the approaching craziness.
Luv ya!
Yesterday I baked for a surprise birthday party. However we just found out that the whole time when we had been planning the surprise birthday another group had been...for the same person...at exact same time. What can I say? Great minds think alike. We already gave out invitations, so now we're trying to work something out. Just pray that God would totally infiltrate everything and it would go smoothly and be beautiful.
And then tomorrow the president of Liberia is coming for a Thank You Service. We're not working then, but have offered to help and there's tons of cleaning and preparation to be done since the dining room will be the main welcoming place. No one is allowed through the dining hall and everyone has to pack their lunch. Breakfast will stay open later than usual..and it just seems like a whole bunch of stuff to remember and help with.
And then on the 6th of December there is going to be blackout on the ship because they're cleaning the engines. So we'll to help prep all cold foods for that. We've been working at making reservations to stay at a nearby beach with nice cabins to rent. Please pray that it would go well.
Aka: I'm currently overwhelmed but loving life all the same...and a little bit of me is looking forward to the approaching craziness.
Luv ya!
Sunday, November 23, 2008
Bonjeh town Christmas
Let's see..last week: We had off Monday and Tuesday and went to Water Side one of those days. That's the big market with cloth and clothing and carvings and leather stuff sold in actual concrete buildings mostly run by the Lebanese.
We worked last Wednesday. And then switched with the other team so we could go to the Christmas service at Bonjeh town and then we would work their Friday. The Christmas service was cool. Although frankly it wasn't very Christmas-y. We're clebrating it early since the ship leaves early December. It was as humid and warm as ever. We talked and played with the children as usual and there was a precious four month old baby there. And then with much jostling and help from the two Liberian crew guys that Sherry brought along the children were finally all lined up to receive cookies and juice with a little baggy with plastic jewelry and candy. My personal favorite part was after the whole giving out stuff.
The last time I went to Bonjeh town, William, the 15 year old boy that I've become friends with tried to teach me how to play the drums. Of course, I failed miserably, but he and some friends started playing the drums and came up with a fun rhythm. Actually all the little boys know how to play the drums...probably better then some of the American professionals. Anyway, me and the little girls danced.
And this time the girls asked if I would dance with them again. Vaguely embarrassed I consented...and before we knew it everyone was dancing...including the older women who had joined us. It was very fun.
I'm reading this book called RE-entry. It's basically about leaving missions and not leaving bitter or coming home and becoming bitter because people don't understand the full impact it has had on your life. I'm loving it. I know I'm' not actually leaving the ship until January, but I figure since I've made relationships with the Liberian people, and we are leaving Liberia...it would be a good time to read it. So I felt like the Bonjeh town Christmas service was a good time to say goodbye to all the children that remembered my name and drew butterflies in the sand with me and wrote there names on a piece of paper so I wouldn't forget them. And I wont. It was a good kind of closure. I've made a list of all the places I want to visit and the gifts I want to buy before I go. So my next few weekends are going to be full.
And then we went to the Jesus Film. They show it every week more than once a week in different villages. In their own language. People suddenly feel like it's really for them. They all speak English since that's how all the tribes communicate to each other...but it isn't really personal if it's not in their mother tongue. The children came first. I was in the middle of caking myself with bug spray when I felt a timid touch against my arm and there they all were..eager to hold my hand and sit in my lap. Even though we couldn't understand the film. It was good watching their reactions...by the end one little girl had fallen asleep in my lap. We were sitting on the gravel in front of the huge outdoor screen and my legs were numb...but it was worth going.
Wow, sometimes I forget how much I'm writing...sorry. There's another novel.
Luv y'all!
Corina
We worked last Wednesday. And then switched with the other team so we could go to the Christmas service at Bonjeh town and then we would work their Friday. The Christmas service was cool. Although frankly it wasn't very Christmas-y. We're clebrating it early since the ship leaves early December. It was as humid and warm as ever. We talked and played with the children as usual and there was a precious four month old baby there. And then with much jostling and help from the two Liberian crew guys that Sherry brought along the children were finally all lined up to receive cookies and juice with a little baggy with plastic jewelry and candy. My personal favorite part was after the whole giving out stuff.
The last time I went to Bonjeh town, William, the 15 year old boy that I've become friends with tried to teach me how to play the drums. Of course, I failed miserably, but he and some friends started playing the drums and came up with a fun rhythm. Actually all the little boys know how to play the drums...probably better then some of the American professionals. Anyway, me and the little girls danced.
And this time the girls asked if I would dance with them again. Vaguely embarrassed I consented...and before we knew it everyone was dancing...including the older women who had joined us. It was very fun.
I'm reading this book called RE-entry. It's basically about leaving missions and not leaving bitter or coming home and becoming bitter because people don't understand the full impact it has had on your life. I'm loving it. I know I'm' not actually leaving the ship until January, but I figure since I've made relationships with the Liberian people, and we are leaving Liberia...it would be a good time to read it. So I felt like the Bonjeh town Christmas service was a good time to say goodbye to all the children that remembered my name and drew butterflies in the sand with me and wrote there names on a piece of paper so I wouldn't forget them. And I wont. It was a good kind of closure. I've made a list of all the places I want to visit and the gifts I want to buy before I go. So my next few weekends are going to be full.
And then we went to the Jesus Film. They show it every week more than once a week in different villages. In their own language. People suddenly feel like it's really for them. They all speak English since that's how all the tribes communicate to each other...but it isn't really personal if it's not in their mother tongue. The children came first. I was in the middle of caking myself with bug spray when I felt a timid touch against my arm and there they all were..eager to hold my hand and sit in my lap. Even though we couldn't understand the film. It was good watching their reactions...by the end one little girl had fallen asleep in my lap. We were sitting on the gravel in front of the huge outdoor screen and my legs were numb...but it was worth going.
Wow, sometimes I forget how much I'm writing...sorry. There's another novel.
Luv y'all!
Corina
Monday, November 17, 2008
Bleeding Hearts
"Yet with the woes of sin and strife
The world has suffered long
Beneath the angel-strain have rolled
Two thousand years of wrong
And men at war with men hear not
The love-song which they bring
O hush the noise ye men of stife
And hear the angels sing"-It came upon a midnight clear (Richard S. Wilis)
Warning: This is a graphic poem...a glimpse of why life here is sometimes painful...I am not trying to traumatize you all..i just think you have the right to know
He had a baseball cap
A young father holds his tiny son
In the midddle of a crowded sidewalk
As cars zoom past
The tiny forehead touches the rim of the baseball cap
And they are almost nose to nose
Images flash through my mind
And some are painful and some are beautiful and
all are so vivid they make me want to cry
I was never there when it happened
I just heard the sounds of a documentary
Trying to shut it out with my book
A heavy base drum in the distance
A rap that makes me want to get low
And they are shooting to the sound of the rap
And I read the same sentence over and over and over
Images flash through my mind like a slide show
vivid
blinding eyes with tears
And bleeding hearts scream in the silence
The children's eyes roll back in their heads
A soldier, A needle, A rush
And suddenly they are immortal
And shoot to the sweet beat of rap
Mindless games
I am not thin enough
Definitition of beauty
The dizzying smell of
Red toenail polish
Three layers
Darker Darker Darker red
Swollen stomachs and outstretched arms
The children greet us
I have a headache
Eyes behind my hands
A stranger lying in the street
Skin and bones
Like the elephant we tiptoe around
In denial of pandora's open box
And in their eyes all I see is dark red
A black general stands before us all
Talking about children sacrifices
Flesh and bones in pieces
Like shattered glass in the dusty road
Like my heart
Children soldiers eating children's hearts
Blinding eyes with tears
Now he is white like snow
Dark red Crossed out by a God and 4 nails
And I sit in the taxi
Feeling the sweet rap beat
And the bleeding hearts growing on the rubble
And feeling helpless because
My heart is bleeding too
A father holds his tiny child
As the world moves around them
And their eyes meet
Innocence reaches to touch the red pain with its tiny hand
And hope is born
The world has suffered long
Beneath the angel-strain have rolled
Two thousand years of wrong
And men at war with men hear not
The love-song which they bring
O hush the noise ye men of stife
And hear the angels sing"-It came upon a midnight clear (Richard S. Wilis)
Warning: This is a graphic poem...a glimpse of why life here is sometimes painful...I am not trying to traumatize you all..i just think you have the right to know
He had a baseball cap
A young father holds his tiny son
In the midddle of a crowded sidewalk
As cars zoom past
The tiny forehead touches the rim of the baseball cap
And they are almost nose to nose
Images flash through my mind
And some are painful and some are beautiful and
all are so vivid they make me want to cry
I was never there when it happened
I just heard the sounds of a documentary
Trying to shut it out with my book
A heavy base drum in the distance
A rap that makes me want to get low
And they are shooting to the sound of the rap
And I read the same sentence over and over and over
Images flash through my mind like a slide show
vivid
blinding eyes with tears
And bleeding hearts scream in the silence
The children's eyes roll back in their heads
A soldier, A needle, A rush
And suddenly they are immortal
And shoot to the sweet beat of rap
Mindless games
I am not thin enough
Definitition of beauty
The dizzying smell of
Red toenail polish
Three layers
Darker Darker Darker red
Swollen stomachs and outstretched arms
The children greet us
I have a headache
Eyes behind my hands
A stranger lying in the street
Skin and bones
Like the elephant we tiptoe around
In denial of pandora's open box
And in their eyes all I see is dark red
A black general stands before us all
Talking about children sacrifices
Flesh and bones in pieces
Like shattered glass in the dusty road
Like my heart
Children soldiers eating children's hearts
Blinding eyes with tears
Now he is white like snow
Dark red Crossed out by a God and 4 nails
And I sit in the taxi
Feeling the sweet rap beat
And the bleeding hearts growing on the rubble
And feeling helpless because
My heart is bleeding too
A father holds his tiny child
As the world moves around them
And their eyes meet
Innocence reaches to touch the red pain with its tiny hand
And hope is born
Friday, November 7, 2008
Smiles
These are from the last time we went to Bonjeh town. ABout a month ago. It's a very remote village. Mercy ship crew originally provided them with a bridge so that they wouldn't be cut off when it rained to hard. Now Sherry goes there about once every other week. She helps with the Birthing clinic.
We take one of the big white landrovers, through huge puddles and over potholes and accross narrow bridges and through the brush. We pass casava fields and womenn washing clothes in huge puddles and as we near the village I hear a chorus of high pitch voices yelling. And then I see them. Huge smiles and glowing eyes and tiny hands waving and little feet jumping up and down and running after us. "Mercy Ships! Mercy ships!" The old people sitting outside shacks smile. And the mothers selling and preparing food, wave.
We park by their small white washed church building. They are building a chicken hutch in the back and there are benches nearby where the mothers sit holding sleeping babies and chatting. We sing songs with them and play games and draw in the sand. We play football (American: soccer.) They show me the school and show off their spelling skills on the chalk board. And then they take me to the birthing clinic that the Duncans just finished painting. And then we go back to the church. One boy starts the rythm and pretty soon a few more boys join in with shakers and smaller drums and I dance with the little girls.
These people have nothing. They throw their arms open and welcome us. Perhaps they welcome us because they have gotten and still expect support and help from us. But I never fail to be surprised by their vitality. Especially the children. Their enthusiasm and smiles.
Thursday, November 6, 2008
15 Minutes
Good Morning! I suppose it's around 6am there. Whether you're just rolling out of bed, or have already begun your day, I just want to remind you to think about it. Think about the warm bed you just rolled out of. Think about the breakfast you just ate. I love that post sleep haze. And you look in the mirror after washing your face, thank God, because it could all be swept away in 15 minutes.
Over breakfast I heard the stoory of a mother who escaped the rebel forces during the war. Escaped 15 minutes before they came. With children they had to keep quiet as their house was plundered. With the clothes on their back. And that was it. Talk about divine protection. How within moments, everything we as humans have worked for can slip away. And yet how much we take for granted.
This morning we all had a group prayer. It was so good...healthy. It's like when we all take time to really pray together and bare our hearts before God, all the little things of this world that we so easily get caught up in, slip away. And I am suddenly aware of how human I am and how God He is and how much He has blessed me. With these amazing people I work with incredible roommates. Roommates that are willing to discuss Bible verses untill 11:00pm. Roommates that are willing to have fun and carry eachother's burdens. I am so awed at the beauty of a God that brings people together in pain or joy for His glory.
We're starting an accountability group. I guess it came out of discussions after a devo about constantly being in prayer. We're making a prayer box. :) Ellen and I have started going to one of the small groups on board. We're reading 1st, 2nd and 3rd John. It's been so cool to see how God uses it to speak to each of us in our own unique situations.
Over breakfast I heard the stoory of a mother who escaped the rebel forces during the war. Escaped 15 minutes before they came. With children they had to keep quiet as their house was plundered. With the clothes on their back. And that was it. Talk about divine protection. How within moments, everything we as humans have worked for can slip away. And yet how much we take for granted.
This morning we all had a group prayer. It was so good...healthy. It's like when we all take time to really pray together and bare our hearts before God, all the little things of this world that we so easily get caught up in, slip away. And I am suddenly aware of how human I am and how God He is and how much He has blessed me. With these amazing people I work with incredible roommates. Roommates that are willing to discuss Bible verses untill 11:00pm. Roommates that are willing to have fun and carry eachother's burdens. I am so awed at the beauty of a God that brings people together in pain or joy for His glory.
We're starting an accountability group. I guess it came out of discussions after a devo about constantly being in prayer. We're making a prayer box. :) Ellen and I have started going to one of the small groups on board. We're reading 1st, 2nd and 3rd John. It's been so cool to see how God uses it to speak to each of us in our own unique situations.
Wednesday, October 22, 2008
Perfume
I am alive, believe it or not.
I have lately encountered an annoying flaw when it comes to blogging. I cannot cut, paste, or copy to or from or within my blog. I find myself increasingly antagonized, because, perfectionist as I am, I like to spill everything out on paper and then organize it adding flavor and color and humor as I go...using cut and paste.
Inspiration is a beautiful thing. And this morning I was inspired. This morning Sherry talked to us about the many names of God. And one of them is "a bundle of myrh." The scripture was about how God is like a refreshing aroma to a weary and lost child..I forget the exact words. But it was beautiful. Like the smell after the rain. I always thought of a legacy like a kind of perfume...you can still smell the sweetness even after that person has left the room. That's what I want my legacy to be like. And it made sense. Because if Jesus is like myrh than he will refresh my spirit and cover me with His sweet, refreshing spirit.
Maybe this Jesus Myrh is different for everyone.
For me this Jesus myrh is all the laughs and encouragement at work.
And music.
And African spicey.
And the sparkling eyes of the children here.
And the sky at sunset as one blue fading end hides behind purple clouds that deepen in color towards the edges and the other end is splashed with blinding gold and blue and then in hardly any time at all it deepens as strands of tangerine scream My Creator.
I have lately encountered an annoying flaw when it comes to blogging. I cannot cut, paste, or copy to or from or within my blog. I find myself increasingly antagonized, because, perfectionist as I am, I like to spill everything out on paper and then organize it adding flavor and color and humor as I go...using cut and paste.
Inspiration is a beautiful thing. And this morning I was inspired. This morning Sherry talked to us about the many names of God. And one of them is "a bundle of myrh." The scripture was about how God is like a refreshing aroma to a weary and lost child..I forget the exact words. But it was beautiful. Like the smell after the rain. I always thought of a legacy like a kind of perfume...you can still smell the sweetness even after that person has left the room. That's what I want my legacy to be like. And it made sense. Because if Jesus is like myrh than he will refresh my spirit and cover me with His sweet, refreshing spirit.
Maybe this Jesus Myrh is different for everyone.
For me this Jesus myrh is all the laughs and encouragement at work.
And music.
And African spicey.
And the sparkling eyes of the children here.
And the sky at sunset as one blue fading end hides behind purple clouds that deepen in color towards the edges and the other end is splashed with blinding gold and blue and then in hardly any time at all it deepens as strands of tangerine scream My Creator.
Wednesday, September 24, 2008
Harmony
Today I want to write about ships. Every day I watch them coming and going. At first they are hardly recognizable. Glimmers of white on the horizon. And then the small guide boats go out to guide them into dock. Most of them are cargo ships; stacked high with boxes of who-knows-what. And they all have names. I have a notebook page filled with those names. The Defender, Hansa Catalina, Caterina, Lauritzen Bulkers, Bianca, Greta, Harmony. Perhaps there is a kind of novelty in the fact that each name speaks of something different than just a cargo ship in Africa. Their names speak of high adventure and romance. Some sound like great warriors returning victorious, or fair ladies from far off lands. Some have stories, like the Blue Atlantic. It came in with a ship load of cocaine. They are currently holding it in port waiting for the owner to claim it. And people ask what they did with it all. Sarah decided that the government had a huge party.
Harmony is so far my favorite name. It's so peaceful sounding. She carries her brazen sailors safely through the storms and winds. And they love her. They love the wooden rails, whose luster has worn to a dull grey under their rough hands. They love climbing high into her mast to squint out at sea, hoping for a sight of land. She was once beautiful. On her maiden voyage, in all her glory. But now she is worn from salt and storms and sun.
OK, in reality, most of the ships are metal and don't have wooden rails, or masts, but their names still speak of their ancestors. And long forgotten adventures.
Harmony is so far my favorite name. It's so peaceful sounding. She carries her brazen sailors safely through the storms and winds. And they love her. They love the wooden rails, whose luster has worn to a dull grey under their rough hands. They love climbing high into her mast to squint out at sea, hoping for a sight of land. She was once beautiful. On her maiden voyage, in all her glory. But now she is worn from salt and storms and sun.
OK, in reality, most of the ships are metal and don't have wooden rails, or masts, but their names still speak of their ancestors. And long forgotten adventures.
Saturday, September 20, 2008
Wednesday, September 17, 2008
Big Alligators
We were gazing at the thousands of people below us, leaning over a white balcony, sipping waters from tall glasses. It was serene, and it was Tuesday.
We were at Water Side Market, (Ellen and Amy and Sarah and me.) After much fabric shopping we went to the Bamboo restaurant which overlooks one of the main street and the thousands of heads bobbing up and down and the men pushing huge bundles in wheelbarrows up the hill, and the people selling things on the side of the streets and the run down buildings and the babies tied to their mother's backs. On the way down we examined the mural near one of the stairwells. It was filled with vibrant colors and showed the huts and lakes and people working and then in one corner it had this surprisingly large and slightly out of proportion alligator. We all had a good laugh when we saw it. We were able to get a taxi back to the Love restaurant where we ate at three and then headed back to home sweet home and air conditioning.
We watched a Nooma video called Kickball. It was about how allot of times we are just like little kids. We ask for something we want and we feel like we need it and when God says wait, we wine, "But I thought you loved me!" We are like little kids convinced that a small hand ball will satisfy us, unaware of the huge kickball our Father plans to get us. We discussed how as Christians we often find ourselves thinking that if we could just get something or just get to a certain stage in life...then we could really be used by God. In reality he wants to use us now, where we are, as we are. It was really thought provoking.
Thursday was full of scheming for Sarah and Amy's going away party. While Ellen and I were at work the others baked a cake and cookies. Cindy hid the cake in the safe at her office:) And we made hot cocoa. They saw the cake and cookies she was very surprised. It was funny. And then of course we made them give speeches and Janeen video taped it. And of course they both came up with a funny, clever speech on the spot: Many laughs.
Friday we went to the Love Restaurant once again as a kind of closing to Sarah's stay. The food was delicious as always and we listened to snapshot memories from on board the ship. And then, sadly, she left. :( We took many last minute pictures.)
Janeen and Ellen and I all went to Bonje town. It was so good chatting with the mothers and telling them that Sarah was on a plane back to Wales. The sweet couple in the room next to us, came to paint the birthing house. They painted the floor green and Martha, the woman in charge, was very excited. It was good to see William again. He has such a passion for learning and really wants to go to high school, but he needed writing and reading books. I had purchased a notebook for him in Waterside and was able to give it to him. Since Sherry is only sponsoring the grades up to sixth grade, she told me to just present him discretely. I wrote him a little note to go with it. He read it to me.
Later when we were singing with some of the children and they were teaching us hand clapping games, William ran over to me and asked if I wanted to play football with them. I was honored. They took me to this patch of dusty ground towards the edge of the village. And thus I commenced at making a fool of myself running around desperately trying to block and kick with boys half my age, twice as good at soccer as I. Here they call if football.
On the way back we purchased sweet bread and meat sticks from the women by the road. It was only when I reached our cabin and was wondering why my feet were aching that I realized that I had blood blisters on both my feet. But you know what? It was worth it.
OK your about half way through this post. I'm catching up because, it's been a whirlwind September...in a good way. So to say it all in one sentence: I am alive and well and loving Africa.
Sunday, we went to The United Liberian Inland church...with Grey and Takpor. Takpor invited me over lunch and Grey's from Ghana and felt like he just had to go to church this Sunday. We went to the adult Sunday school first. It was uplifting just sitting there listening to their insight on the Bible passage. And then they sang. It was beautiful and rich and melodious with the harmony rising and falling in grand crescendos and diminuendos. It was actually a very large church and they even had pews and a choir with uniforms. Women came in dancing and singing with the food offering. One of the lead women wanted to keep the microphone until they reached the back of the church on their way out. That was rather funny, one of the pastors had to run back and get it from her. And then there was a baby dedication. "Wow, thank you for making such a beautiful little girl." Her name was Favor, "and she looks like one to." The congregation laughed. The message was about being faithful, approachable and teachable. Back at port we said goodbye to Takpor at the gate.
Sunday night we went to the International lounge for Sunday night worship service. Then we heard this amazing sermon on communication. OCCC. Open, Constructive, Clear Communication. It makes sense to be honest and sincere so our communication doesn't get warped and perverted by selfish ambitions or judgemental opinions.
Monday devotions were led by Peter, the head food service manager. He gave this great talk on how we should never get tired of serving God, but should be tired from serving God at the end of the day. Peter wants to put a new, more professional face on the food service department..so right after I leave in January they will be getting uniforms and we got weird rubber black shoes for over normal shoes so we don't slip. If I can serve Jesus by wearing silly shoes than that's the least I can do.
I only become miserable on the job when I get bogged down with other's expectations. I need to simply focus on doing my best with those expectations in mind, but letting God take care of the rest. And I can feel that spiritual growth, it's rolling out of a warm bed in the morning; it's serving that person that comes in asking for lunch at 1:30 when lunch ended at 1:00. It's smiling at the person who frowns at the food. And God's been revealing His heart to me through the people we serve. Like the random person that decides to help us fill up the drink containers. It's the person that always says thank you. Sometimes it's hard and sweaty and stressful working 11 hours a day, but we all encourage each other and share laughs and at the end of the day, it's worth it. And if we can serve better by being more professional than I say let's do it. It's been...for lack of a better word...healthy.
Sarah called. She got back to Wales safely and sounds like she's doing well. It was funny. Amy described how she had been getting more and more nervous because she was leaving Wednesday and she just wanted to call Sarah to be told that everything is OK when you get back. They live twenty minutes from each other. And at the very moment when she was about to pick up the phone, Sarah called. It was really good to talk to her. She called, "just to say everything's all right when you get back." That night we had a going away party for Amy. I am so inspired by her. She really has a heart for Africa. It's been so amazing hearing how God brought her here. We all had tea and sat out on the dock and eventually headed in to one of the mid ships lounges. It was nice.
Wed: Amy left. A Bible verse and a very sweet note on our wall. We all miss her. We invited a bunch of girls over to our cabin and chatted and ate trifle. Paul writes about how God instilled in each of us a different conscience. And we've all had different experiences leading up to this point in our lives. It as good for me to struggle with that and just to remind myself that we're all here for the same reason; to serve God.
Thursday; Yay! Community meeting! I was hosting two people from the Young Life group in Monrovia. Tim asked several people to be hosts so the Young Life group could come. That's what the offering went to. It was so good to hear him talk about how it's changed his life as well as the lives of others. And it was good to see them again. They invited me and Ellen and Jackie to come to their first YL club. It turns out Jackie, one of the girls from our neighboring cabin, used to be a YL leader.
If you've actually read all the way through this then you're crazy, and have way too much time on your hands...or maybe I have too much time on my hands. In any case, I miss you all and love you ~Corina
We were at Water Side Market, (Ellen and Amy and Sarah and me.) After much fabric shopping we went to the Bamboo restaurant which overlooks one of the main street and the thousands of heads bobbing up and down and the men pushing huge bundles in wheelbarrows up the hill, and the people selling things on the side of the streets and the run down buildings and the babies tied to their mother's backs. On the way down we examined the mural near one of the stairwells. It was filled with vibrant colors and showed the huts and lakes and people working and then in one corner it had this surprisingly large and slightly out of proportion alligator. We all had a good laugh when we saw it. We were able to get a taxi back to the Love restaurant where we ate at three and then headed back to home sweet home and air conditioning.
We watched a Nooma video called Kickball. It was about how allot of times we are just like little kids. We ask for something we want and we feel like we need it and when God says wait, we wine, "But I thought you loved me!" We are like little kids convinced that a small hand ball will satisfy us, unaware of the huge kickball our Father plans to get us. We discussed how as Christians we often find ourselves thinking that if we could just get something or just get to a certain stage in life...then we could really be used by God. In reality he wants to use us now, where we are, as we are. It was really thought provoking.
Thursday was full of scheming for Sarah and Amy's going away party. While Ellen and I were at work the others baked a cake and cookies. Cindy hid the cake in the safe at her office:) And we made hot cocoa. They saw the cake and cookies she was very surprised. It was funny. And then of course we made them give speeches and Janeen video taped it. And of course they both came up with a funny, clever speech on the spot: Many laughs.
Friday we went to the Love Restaurant once again as a kind of closing to Sarah's stay. The food was delicious as always and we listened to snapshot memories from on board the ship. And then, sadly, she left. :( We took many last minute pictures.)
Janeen and Ellen and I all went to Bonje town. It was so good chatting with the mothers and telling them that Sarah was on a plane back to Wales. The sweet couple in the room next to us, came to paint the birthing house. They painted the floor green and Martha, the woman in charge, was very excited. It was good to see William again. He has such a passion for learning and really wants to go to high school, but he needed writing and reading books. I had purchased a notebook for him in Waterside and was able to give it to him. Since Sherry is only sponsoring the grades up to sixth grade, she told me to just present him discretely. I wrote him a little note to go with it. He read it to me.
Later when we were singing with some of the children and they were teaching us hand clapping games, William ran over to me and asked if I wanted to play football with them. I was honored. They took me to this patch of dusty ground towards the edge of the village. And thus I commenced at making a fool of myself running around desperately trying to block and kick with boys half my age, twice as good at soccer as I. Here they call if football.
On the way back we purchased sweet bread and meat sticks from the women by the road. It was only when I reached our cabin and was wondering why my feet were aching that I realized that I had blood blisters on both my feet. But you know what? It was worth it.
OK your about half way through this post. I'm catching up because, it's been a whirlwind September...in a good way. So to say it all in one sentence: I am alive and well and loving Africa.
Sunday, we went to The United Liberian Inland church...with Grey and Takpor. Takpor invited me over lunch and Grey's from Ghana and felt like he just had to go to church this Sunday. We went to the adult Sunday school first. It was uplifting just sitting there listening to their insight on the Bible passage. And then they sang. It was beautiful and rich and melodious with the harmony rising and falling in grand crescendos and diminuendos. It was actually a very large church and they even had pews and a choir with uniforms. Women came in dancing and singing with the food offering. One of the lead women wanted to keep the microphone until they reached the back of the church on their way out. That was rather funny, one of the pastors had to run back and get it from her. And then there was a baby dedication. "Wow, thank you for making such a beautiful little girl." Her name was Favor, "and she looks like one to." The congregation laughed. The message was about being faithful, approachable and teachable. Back at port we said goodbye to Takpor at the gate.
Sunday night we went to the International lounge for Sunday night worship service. Then we heard this amazing sermon on communication. OCCC. Open, Constructive, Clear Communication. It makes sense to be honest and sincere so our communication doesn't get warped and perverted by selfish ambitions or judgemental opinions.
Monday devotions were led by Peter, the head food service manager. He gave this great talk on how we should never get tired of serving God, but should be tired from serving God at the end of the day. Peter wants to put a new, more professional face on the food service department..so right after I leave in January they will be getting uniforms and we got weird rubber black shoes for over normal shoes so we don't slip. If I can serve Jesus by wearing silly shoes than that's the least I can do.
I only become miserable on the job when I get bogged down with other's expectations. I need to simply focus on doing my best with those expectations in mind, but letting God take care of the rest. And I can feel that spiritual growth, it's rolling out of a warm bed in the morning; it's serving that person that comes in asking for lunch at 1:30 when lunch ended at 1:00. It's smiling at the person who frowns at the food. And God's been revealing His heart to me through the people we serve. Like the random person that decides to help us fill up the drink containers. It's the person that always says thank you. Sometimes it's hard and sweaty and stressful working 11 hours a day, but we all encourage each other and share laughs and at the end of the day, it's worth it. And if we can serve better by being more professional than I say let's do it. It's been...for lack of a better word...healthy.
Sarah called. She got back to Wales safely and sounds like she's doing well. It was funny. Amy described how she had been getting more and more nervous because she was leaving Wednesday and she just wanted to call Sarah to be told that everything is OK when you get back. They live twenty minutes from each other. And at the very moment when she was about to pick up the phone, Sarah called. It was really good to talk to her. She called, "just to say everything's all right when you get back." That night we had a going away party for Amy. I am so inspired by her. She really has a heart for Africa. It's been so amazing hearing how God brought her here. We all had tea and sat out on the dock and eventually headed in to one of the mid ships lounges. It was nice.
Wed: Amy left. A Bible verse and a very sweet note on our wall. We all miss her. We invited a bunch of girls over to our cabin and chatted and ate trifle. Paul writes about how God instilled in each of us a different conscience. And we've all had different experiences leading up to this point in our lives. It as good for me to struggle with that and just to remind myself that we're all here for the same reason; to serve God.
Thursday; Yay! Community meeting! I was hosting two people from the Young Life group in Monrovia. Tim asked several people to be hosts so the Young Life group could come. That's what the offering went to. It was so good to hear him talk about how it's changed his life as well as the lives of others. And it was good to see them again. They invited me and Ellen and Jackie to come to their first YL club. It turns out Jackie, one of the girls from our neighboring cabin, used to be a YL leader.
If you've actually read all the way through this then you're crazy, and have way too much time on your hands...or maybe I have too much time on my hands. In any case, I miss you all and love you ~Corina
Tuesday, September 9, 2008
Reality
This last Sunday I and Sarah and Geneen went to Bonjeh town so Sarah could say goodbye to her namesake. After an extremely bouncy ride with Cherrry driving once again, we finally reached the town and parked by the church just as before. It was so good to see the children's faces again they remembered my name. I think I'm realizing just how true it is that a person's favorite word is their name. When someone knows your name it's like they recognize you as a person and a friend and an individual. And it means allot to me. We all went and visited her namesake who appears just as grumpy as before, but content to let Sarah hold her. Then we all stood in a circle and played duck duck goose. It was so hilarious. As soon as someone was tagged as "goose" the children would simultaneously yell to that child to run and then the circle would implode and we often ended up with several children chasing each other around the circle.
They asked me to draw a butterfly again.
We went to the birthing clinic they have there and we met Martha, the woman that runs it. I got to hold one of the babies, it was so precious. I suppose for every beautiful moment there is a moment of reality. I got baby slime all over me. He had been sleeping and drooling every where and my shoulder was all wet by the time we left. We arrived back in time to work the evening shift.
Monday: We helped paint the clinic. It had been white washed, but not painted. For the first bit I painted the columns and hall walls with a roller. I found my self peering closely at these walls. Sometimes it was difficult to see the difference between the whitewash and the cream colored paint. Around 2 we had a delicious African lunch and met some of the children. I never fail to be impressed with the strength of these people. Those little kids could probably woop my brother. I was impressed by the size and it was fairly light due to the many windows. Oh those windows. They seem to be made of cement block like everything else, but they are cut in almost lace-like designs. In this section of the wall each individual "pane" has a small square attached on each side to an large square, resulting to a total of thirty four tiny sides requiring a proper coat of paint. I felt like I was working in slow motion. But it was rather surreal in a sense. I found my self humming or singing as I dipped the small paint brush into the paint over and over plus I was probably rather woozy on the fumes. I became one of those radio stations that plays the same songs over and over.
Tuesday: We went to Water Side market with Ellen and Amy. Both Amy and Sarah had wanted to go. Both of them are leaving soon, so it was one of those things where they were going to enjoy the things that they've grown to love about Liberia. Like piling into a taxi, and eating rice with palm oil, and bartering with the women who sell lapas. We took a fairly long walk there and then walked up and down the streets. We stopped at many of the places selling run by the Lebanese. Ellen started feeling faint and for good reason. It was her first outing in the African heat. We bought doughnuts and a few cokes. It made me remember the first time I went out to the market. I suppose you just get used to being all sweaty...becoming slightly less prone to exhaustion from the heat. We went back to some of the shops Sarah and I had gone to and I got these amazing butterfly earrings and a gift for Dad. I think he'll really like it. Oh, and I got my "baby-fix" for the day. The other's were bartering over and choosing some fabrics at a nearby stand. I had wondered over to a stand where a couple stood holding their tiny baby. I couldn't resist asking how old, boy or girl, name. They were very sweet and all smiles and let me hold that little bundle. Some of the children here are afraid of white people. They run and hide or simply scream. I wondered if that child would be terrified of me in later years, or if holding it made any difference. So before long we were all clustered around taking turns holding this tiny baby.
And then we got a taxi ride and ate lunch at the Love restaurant. Love greeted us and we had palm oil with casava and fish over rice. It was really delicious. I think Ellen really enjoyed it. She seemed genuinely happy about the entire trip. I loved it. And then we went back...home. There I said it. I keep thinking of it but not saying it because I'm scared to get too attached.
Too Late
I guess there's nothing wrong with having two homes. When I look at these people, it's like I'm seeing humanity as it really is. Harsh and cruel and beautiful and fighting for life. No escapade or masquerade or covering up how it is. Maybe reality is wherever you're at, so for me it's right here.
They asked me to draw a butterfly again.
We went to the birthing clinic they have there and we met Martha, the woman that runs it. I got to hold one of the babies, it was so precious. I suppose for every beautiful moment there is a moment of reality. I got baby slime all over me. He had been sleeping and drooling every where and my shoulder was all wet by the time we left. We arrived back in time to work the evening shift.
Monday: We helped paint the clinic. It had been white washed, but not painted. For the first bit I painted the columns and hall walls with a roller. I found my self peering closely at these walls. Sometimes it was difficult to see the difference between the whitewash and the cream colored paint. Around 2 we had a delicious African lunch and met some of the children. I never fail to be impressed with the strength of these people. Those little kids could probably woop my brother. I was impressed by the size and it was fairly light due to the many windows. Oh those windows. They seem to be made of cement block like everything else, but they are cut in almost lace-like designs. In this section of the wall each individual "pane" has a small square attached on each side to an large square, resulting to a total of thirty four tiny sides requiring a proper coat of paint. I felt like I was working in slow motion. But it was rather surreal in a sense. I found my self humming or singing as I dipped the small paint brush into the paint over and over plus I was probably rather woozy on the fumes. I became one of those radio stations that plays the same songs over and over.
Tuesday: We went to Water Side market with Ellen and Amy. Both Amy and Sarah had wanted to go. Both of them are leaving soon, so it was one of those things where they were going to enjoy the things that they've grown to love about Liberia. Like piling into a taxi, and eating rice with palm oil, and bartering with the women who sell lapas. We took a fairly long walk there and then walked up and down the streets. We stopped at many of the places selling run by the Lebanese. Ellen started feeling faint and for good reason. It was her first outing in the African heat. We bought doughnuts and a few cokes. It made me remember the first time I went out to the market. I suppose you just get used to being all sweaty...becoming slightly less prone to exhaustion from the heat. We went back to some of the shops Sarah and I had gone to and I got these amazing butterfly earrings and a gift for Dad. I think he'll really like it. Oh, and I got my "baby-fix" for the day. The other's were bartering over and choosing some fabrics at a nearby stand. I had wondered over to a stand where a couple stood holding their tiny baby. I couldn't resist asking how old, boy or girl, name. They were very sweet and all smiles and let me hold that little bundle. Some of the children here are afraid of white people. They run and hide or simply scream. I wondered if that child would be terrified of me in later years, or if holding it made any difference. So before long we were all clustered around taking turns holding this tiny baby.
And then we got a taxi ride and ate lunch at the Love restaurant. Love greeted us and we had palm oil with casava and fish over rice. It was really delicious. I think Ellen really enjoyed it. She seemed genuinely happy about the entire trip. I loved it. And then we went back...home. There I said it. I keep thinking of it but not saying it because I'm scared to get too attached.
Too Late
I guess there's nothing wrong with having two homes. When I look at these people, it's like I'm seeing humanity as it really is. Harsh and cruel and beautiful and fighting for life. No escapade or masquerade or covering up how it is. Maybe reality is wherever you're at, so for me it's right here.
Sunday, September 7, 2008
Things just happen
Today I learned that things just happen.
Things that I can't control.
Things that hurt.
Like one of my friends whose life seems to be crashing in around her.
Things that make even the most upbeat people dissolve in choking tears.
Like the always smiling face of my boss wet with tears.
Things that make me feel as overwhelmed as the people experiencing them.
Like seeing someone lying helpless in the road and screaming for somebody to help you and not even one would. Sometimes I feel like I am seeing through other's eyes. And I start looking around the room and wondering how many have had the cruelty of life here staring them in the face. It's so easy to preach the good Samaritan when it's not staring you in the face.
Things happen.
Things that are in God's hands.
Sometimes I 'm so busy running around dealing with these things that I forget to look up and see His fingers working even here.
God made prayer and faith.
For things like these.
Things that I can't control.
Things that hurt.
Like one of my friends whose life seems to be crashing in around her.
Things that make even the most upbeat people dissolve in choking tears.
Like the always smiling face of my boss wet with tears.
Things that make me feel as overwhelmed as the people experiencing them.
Like seeing someone lying helpless in the road and screaming for somebody to help you and not even one would. Sometimes I feel like I am seeing through other's eyes. And I start looking around the room and wondering how many have had the cruelty of life here staring them in the face. It's so easy to preach the good Samaritan when it's not staring you in the face.
Things happen.
Things that are in God's hands.
Sometimes I 'm so busy running around dealing with these things that I forget to look up and see His fingers working even here.
God made prayer and faith.
For things like these.
Monday, September 1, 2008
Poetry and Chocolate
There is something poetic about scrubbing that three inch piece of white concrete that acts as the support for all the warmers and heaters for the dining room. I suppose it is in the fact that when you are scrubbing it your face is only a few inches away peering intently at each and every spot which you intend to remove. You begin to admire your work. There is something gratifying about seeing that smear of dirt slowly come off, and then you look up to see strange faces looking down at you as if you were some alien just dropped out of space. But my mind was stuck on poetry. It could have been the fact that I napped during each break, thus remaining in a happy state of warm sleepiness throughout the day. It was rather surreal.
We've started putting out this chocolate sauce, for lack of better words. But this is no ordinary chocolate sauce. It's actually in some other language but I think it's called Nutella in the US. Well I've been using it as a spread. I suppose I was savoring the sheer happiness of being alone at a table and even though people were talking all around me, it was like I had found my own silence and I was secretly trying to close my eyes with every bite without being conspicuous. And I was trying to describe that heavenly taste in my head. The way it was smooth and rich, but it didn't taste like chocolate fudge and the way the taste seemed to get better with each bite until it filled all my senses. And I could smell and feel and taste and see and touch that heavenly chocolate. And the only word I could think of to describe it was poetry. So today I decided that if poetry had a taste it would taste like chocolate. I suppose it's a rather romantic thought in a way, or absolutely ridiculous if you're like my brother.
We've started putting out this chocolate sauce, for lack of better words. But this is no ordinary chocolate sauce. It's actually in some other language but I think it's called Nutella in the US. Well I've been using it as a spread. I suppose I was savoring the sheer happiness of being alone at a table and even though people were talking all around me, it was like I had found my own silence and I was secretly trying to close my eyes with every bite without being conspicuous. And I was trying to describe that heavenly taste in my head. The way it was smooth and rich, but it didn't taste like chocolate fudge and the way the taste seemed to get better with each bite until it filled all my senses. And I could smell and feel and taste and see and touch that heavenly chocolate. And the only word I could think of to describe it was poetry. So today I decided that if poetry had a taste it would taste like chocolate. I suppose it's a rather romantic thought in a way, or absolutely ridiculous if you're like my brother.
Saturday, August 30, 2008
Butterfly girl
Saturday morning I woke up with an intense feeling of sheer happiness. The kind of happiness that comes from being snuggled deep in a yellow comforter and knowing that you have all the time in the world to sleep and write and read and drink hot cocoa. The happiness born only of time available to debate actually waking up. We had a girl's night last night. It was great. We all jammed on to a bed and watched Walk Across Egypt, (highly recommend it-very good.) We bought popcorn from the cafe and ordered hot drinks and rented tons of DVDs from the ship library. It was nice really. I think we've all had a kind of intense few days..just as far as being really busy. I think we really started to feel like sisters this week-no not in the fighting bickering way-but in the supportive way.
It has been one of those golden days, when you just feel right. We all had lunch and then sat out on the dock just talking. I fell asleep feeling the wonderfully warm pavement on my back and the sun warming my face. Snatches of their conversation drifted in and out of my awareness like the the waves and the blue sky and the birds. When I finally sat up my eyes were all blurry and everything seemed very bright.
Alice left today. It was actually a day late, but it turned out to be a blessing in disguise, because yesterday seemed kind of crazy. Thank you for dealing with my venting during the last post. I'll miss her. She always was very quiet but was deep into God's word. She had at least 3 different translations of the Bible and I would find sheets filled with passages, the verses highlighted in different colors. It really inspired me to seek out God's will in His word, like it's some kind of treasure map, to be worked and poured over day and night.
Today I went to Benjeh (?) town. After a long time of bouncing around the metal back of one of the Mercy Ships land rovers, we finally reached our destination. It is so strange being out so far..I was almost surprised to see this village. Sarah was visiting her namesake there. This little girl had been named after her and remained in her arms most of the time As soon as we stepped out of the truck the children swarmed around us. They all fight to hold my hand and some are simply content to trap me their, their tiny arms around my waist, their heads resting against me. It is so precious. We went to church there. It was good, but it was the first time I had actually sat with the children. There was allot of dancing and singing. I felt kind of bad, because it was the children around me kept whispering to each other and asking my name. Their parents would then get mad and make huge "TSHHHH"-ing noises at them. After church I got to meet more children. One of the precious little girls had butterflies on her shirt and I pointed to them and then pointed to the butterfly clips in my hair and then drew a butterfly in the sand. Within no time they were all huddled in a circle taking turns drawing houses and cars and airplanes and then we were all spelling each others names and writing down ages and grades etc. It was so sweet. We played this game where they'd say an African name and then I'd have to guess how it was spelled. My roommates all know me as the butterfly girl.. They like the butterfly clips and socks and they've promised to tell me if they see any butterfly material in the market-I've seen dresses made out of it, but haven't actually seen where they sell the fabric. Mom, I don't know if you remember but there was this one time when you called me your butterfly girl. And as your butterfly girl, I sign off.
It has been one of those golden days, when you just feel right. We all had lunch and then sat out on the dock just talking. I fell asleep feeling the wonderfully warm pavement on my back and the sun warming my face. Snatches of their conversation drifted in and out of my awareness like the the waves and the blue sky and the birds. When I finally sat up my eyes were all blurry and everything seemed very bright.
Alice left today. It was actually a day late, but it turned out to be a blessing in disguise, because yesterday seemed kind of crazy. Thank you for dealing with my venting during the last post. I'll miss her. She always was very quiet but was deep into God's word. She had at least 3 different translations of the Bible and I would find sheets filled with passages, the verses highlighted in different colors. It really inspired me to seek out God's will in His word, like it's some kind of treasure map, to be worked and poured over day and night.
Today I went to Benjeh (?) town. After a long time of bouncing around the metal back of one of the Mercy Ships land rovers, we finally reached our destination. It is so strange being out so far..I was almost surprised to see this village. Sarah was visiting her namesake there. This little girl had been named after her and remained in her arms most of the time As soon as we stepped out of the truck the children swarmed around us. They all fight to hold my hand and some are simply content to trap me their, their tiny arms around my waist, their heads resting against me. It is so precious. We went to church there. It was good, but it was the first time I had actually sat with the children. There was allot of dancing and singing. I felt kind of bad, because it was the children around me kept whispering to each other and asking my name. Their parents would then get mad and make huge "TSHHHH"-ing noises at them. After church I got to meet more children. One of the precious little girls had butterflies on her shirt and I pointed to them and then pointed to the butterfly clips in my hair and then drew a butterfly in the sand. Within no time they were all huddled in a circle taking turns drawing houses and cars and airplanes and then we were all spelling each others names and writing down ages and grades etc. It was so sweet. We played this game where they'd say an African name and then I'd have to guess how it was spelled. My roommates all know me as the butterfly girl.. They like the butterfly clips and socks and they've promised to tell me if they see any butterfly material in the market-I've seen dresses made out of it, but haven't actually seen where they sell the fabric. Mom, I don't know if you remember but there was this one time when you called me your butterfly girl. And as your butterfly girl, I sign off.
Friday, August 29, 2008
Cabin Crazy
These past few work days have kind of been an emotional roller coaster, but in a strange way it’s been really good. When you get ten girls in a room for more than a week it becomes apparent just how broken we are. We all start venting and it's messy and beautiful all at once because we then start to really pray together and support each other. We each can be light and girlie and at the same time share intense parts of our lives and we were all brought together by this amazing God who is speaking to each of us in our individual circumstances.
We learn to sense when something's wrong. One of my friends had a really emotional past few days. She lives an incredibly intense life at home, but she is really funny and I love having her as a roommate. She has the greatest expressions when imitating different emotions and she loves the eighties. We have “girl’s nights” were we all sit around eating chocolate and popcorn and talking and laughing our heads off and watching chick flicks.
We have allot of new girls in our cabin. We’re all just waiting for their craziness to eventually leak out. I think after a few weeks on this ship no one can help but go crazy. No, it's not really that bad, we just eventually get comfortable enough to let others see the real us when we're super sad or happy or sweaty and gross or whatever. I think deep down we all are a little bit crazy in our own way-crazy about Jesus, crazy about having fun etc.
The official Food Service director came yesterday. So the woman who was standing in for him told us all the extra work she had for us to do. It was rather overwhelming. But we're all here to serve the same God and that's what matters. Mary Lou said that she hated to tell me about more work because she knew we were way understaffed anyway. She is so incredible sweet. I rather fancy being like her when I'm old.
OK, more crazy dining room experiences. Yesterday I'm wiping down one of the buffet lines and one of the day workers, known for being more forward with his interest in white girls, approaches: "I love to see my baby working." I smiled sweetly and told him I wasn't his baby.” Don’t freak out, I’m telling you because I found it rather humorous...one of those things where you chuckle-only in Africa.
One more crazy thing to tell you all. I rode on a motorcycle with a stranger-alright don't freak out-motorcycles are used like taxis here-me and some friends paid to ride back to the Mercy Ship gate. And we did wear helmets...But we were swerving madly through packed traffic...and yes I enjoyed it.
We learn to sense when something's wrong. One of my friends had a really emotional past few days. She lives an incredibly intense life at home, but she is really funny and I love having her as a roommate. She has the greatest expressions when imitating different emotions and she loves the eighties. We have “girl’s nights” were we all sit around eating chocolate and popcorn and talking and laughing our heads off and watching chick flicks.
We have allot of new girls in our cabin. We’re all just waiting for their craziness to eventually leak out. I think after a few weeks on this ship no one can help but go crazy. No, it's not really that bad, we just eventually get comfortable enough to let others see the real us when we're super sad or happy or sweaty and gross or whatever. I think deep down we all are a little bit crazy in our own way-crazy about Jesus, crazy about having fun etc.
The official Food Service director came yesterday. So the woman who was standing in for him told us all the extra work she had for us to do. It was rather overwhelming. But we're all here to serve the same God and that's what matters. Mary Lou said that she hated to tell me about more work because she knew we were way understaffed anyway. She is so incredible sweet. I rather fancy being like her when I'm old.
OK, more crazy dining room experiences. Yesterday I'm wiping down one of the buffet lines and one of the day workers, known for being more forward with his interest in white girls, approaches: "I love to see my baby working." I smiled sweetly and told him I wasn't his baby.” Don’t freak out, I’m telling you because I found it rather humorous...one of those things where you chuckle-only in Africa.
One more crazy thing to tell you all. I rode on a motorcycle with a stranger-alright don't freak out-motorcycles are used like taxis here-me and some friends paid to ride back to the Mercy Ship gate. And we did wear helmets...But we were swerving madly through packed traffic...and yes I enjoyed it.
Wednesday, August 27, 2008
Water Side Market
Yesterday was absolutely amazing. I got to sleep in till 10:00am. Had a leasurely quiet time over toast and tea and then Sarah and I went to Water Side Market. It was so different compared to Dwahla market. We were able to get a lift to the market. Sometimes it's nice not riding in a taxi because the people that stop are usually well-off business men and the cars are cleaner. But you have to be wary because you don't know that they're going to stop where they say they will. The taxi drivers have to; otherewise they'd have a car full of angry people. Sarah said she felt more secure after more people had been picked up. Water Side actually has concrete buildilngs instead of just makeshift syhacks and wheelbarrows and tables set up on the road. Allot of the shops there were actually run by Lebanese men. And they had allot more variety. I got Christmas presents for Jordan and Kaytlin. :) That is if I don't get too excited and send them before hand. And I have an idea for Dad, and Mom and Hannah. I suppose it is rather early to be shopping for Christmas presents, but sometimes it's just one of those things where I see something and I know that I right then and there otherwise I wont be able to find it again. I also got two lapas, or four yards of materials for a shirt and skirt. I'm hoping to go back to several of the shops. The tailors here are amazing. They're really good at making clothes just from a simple drawing or description; A-line skirts and tighter skirts that flair out below the knees and beautiful shirts and blouses. And then allot of people have these cute capri/shorts that the tailor can make from scraps of material. I really enjoyed Water Side because I actually had money to get things. And I was seeing stuff that would actually be of use in America. It's sometimes hard to find stuff that is handmade and of Africa, but also good to use when I get home.
As usual, it took hardly any time at all to become hot, sweaty and sticky, but it was fun. Plus, it's the cool season for Liberia, so there generally more rain and wind. I don't think I've ever appreciated a breeze so much in my life. It was nice just taking our time and chatting. Sarah showed me several of the shops she had visited before and she got this beautiful hanging basket and several plain colored lapas from one material shop. I'd like to go bakc there, it's hard to find plain fabrics. She also introduced me to to her friend Comfort who sells material. She was lovely.
While we were waiting to meet Comfort, I got my first marriage proposal. I suppose I should have been more prepared. It was rather comical. His name was Prince and he was probably twenty-something. Of course, the usually enthusiastic Liberian handshakes that end in a kind of finger "click" go all around. He asked where I was from, if I lived with my family ect. He kept saying he loved my name and I kept say that so did my mother and father. And then as if it was entirely common place he simply asked me to take him to New York.
"You take me to New York and we get married."
"No I don't think so."
"Yes, yes, you take me to New York. OK? OK."
Well I gave the usual list of reasons to say no:
My father would not be happy
too expensive
I need to go to university
What if I want to stay in Liberia
In retrospect it was rather comical, but I was very relieved once the whole bizzar ordeal was over. It's one of those things that only happens in Africa and you just have to grin and mover on.
By the time we were nearing the Mercy Ships port, we were both exhausted and ready to stop and take a break. Did you know they actually sell ice cream in Liberia? Yep, we stopped and bought ice cream. They sell it in these square metal carts and then use these ity-bitty cones. It was like it was too cold for my mouth. I could hardly even taste the flavor in the sheer heavenliness of the coldness.
And then we stopped at the Love restaurant and had the Liberian soda. They sell it in these 50's looking glass bottles, except they're taller and thinner. We also had some of the water sold in bags. I still feel rebellious when I eat in these restaurants. We had Rice with palm oil, as usual and some kind of mystery meat, which I avoided, as usual.
And then we went back to the ship and I am still so excited about Jordan and Kaytlin's presents.
Adios for now!
Keep in touch.
As usual, it took hardly any time at all to become hot, sweaty and sticky, but it was fun. Plus, it's the cool season for Liberia, so there generally more rain and wind. I don't think I've ever appreciated a breeze so much in my life. It was nice just taking our time and chatting. Sarah showed me several of the shops she had visited before and she got this beautiful hanging basket and several plain colored lapas from one material shop. I'd like to go bakc there, it's hard to find plain fabrics. She also introduced me to to her friend Comfort who sells material. She was lovely.
While we were waiting to meet Comfort, I got my first marriage proposal. I suppose I should have been more prepared. It was rather comical. His name was Prince and he was probably twenty-something. Of course, the usually enthusiastic Liberian handshakes that end in a kind of finger "click" go all around. He asked where I was from, if I lived with my family ect. He kept saying he loved my name and I kept say that so did my mother and father. And then as if it was entirely common place he simply asked me to take him to New York.
"You take me to New York and we get married."
"No I don't think so."
"Yes, yes, you take me to New York. OK? OK."
Well I gave the usual list of reasons to say no:
My father would not be happy
too expensive
I need to go to university
What if I want to stay in Liberia
In retrospect it was rather comical, but I was very relieved once the whole bizzar ordeal was over. It's one of those things that only happens in Africa and you just have to grin and mover on.
By the time we were nearing the Mercy Ships port, we were both exhausted and ready to stop and take a break. Did you know they actually sell ice cream in Liberia? Yep, we stopped and bought ice cream. They sell it in these square metal carts and then use these ity-bitty cones. It was like it was too cold for my mouth. I could hardly even taste the flavor in the sheer heavenliness of the coldness.
And then we stopped at the Love restaurant and had the Liberian soda. They sell it in these 50's looking glass bottles, except they're taller and thinner. We also had some of the water sold in bags. I still feel rebellious when I eat in these restaurants. We had Rice with palm oil, as usual and some kind of mystery meat, which I avoided, as usual.
And then we went back to the ship and I am still so excited about Jordan and Kaytlin's presents.
Adios for now!
Keep in touch.
Monday, August 25, 2008
Young Life!
It was Sunday. After a slightly hectic morning shift in the dining room I was scrambling to prep for church and club. It was one of those many moments I have where I begin talking as soon as I enter the room whether or not someone is listening. It's a way of venting in a rush and driving my roommates crazy at the same time. Frankly it must have been hilarious to watch.
Door opens.
"So this morning one of the coffee machines wasn't working and that same electrician guy talked to me about the dishwashers, but they were both working this morning. You know how one was working and one wasn't and they kept switching so we'd tell him the left one and then by the time he came it would be the right one that wasn't working? Well, yeah, now it's just one of the coffee machines. "
Pause for breath.
"Need to fill water bottle, OK super packed...laptop for the overhead...yeah it's with this outreach to unchurched teens called Young Life. I really don't know what I'm getting myself into...supposed to be a leaders meeting..definitely a God thing...I live on a Young Life camp...randomly met this guy over the buffet line who's trying to get Young Life started in Monrovia. I'm leading worship...OK! See ya!"
Door slams.
30 seconds later: "right, my ID and key...adios"-
Door slams.
A minute later: "So I rush up there and he kind of strolls up. Need a water bottle. Don't rush around like me!"
Door slams.
They definitely think I'm crazy.
He had booked a taxi the day before with one of the leaders involved in Young Life. After about 30 minutes we stop, the smell of sewage permeating the car. It was in Monrovia, the capitol, but apparently not the better off part. We take this dirty path weaving between buildings and shanties...up the stairs and we enter this concrete room filled with about 20 or 30 African college students. Once we got out of the street it didn't smell. We make some quick introductions, I can feel them all watching me...but with curiosity, not the usual quick-way-to-get-rich-white-girl stare. We set up the power point for the songs.
They had a key board there. Some where playing on it and I sat and listened. They would get this beat going and then play chords and at one point they were singing with it. I could tell it was all by ear. It was cool.
And then we all got taxis and went to church. It was the biggest church I have seen yet. Crazy, like a normal church, just with a tin roof ...but with pews and everything. And we sang loud hymns and listened to a sermon on "our changing world." And how it has so easily become perverted. At some points the pastor would start yelling, but it was mainly and the front pews in the right hand corner where the children sat. They showed no inclination whatsoever that this was new. After a while I became used to the occasional bouts of yelling...but I got the gist of the sermon and it was good. The microphone was passed around and we all introduced ourselves. And then suddenly a thousand hands were thrust forward for the shaking and I felt very welcome.
Afterwards, we went back to the concrete room. And had a delicious African lunch made by Jame's wife, Rebecca. It was delicious. Rice, of course, with chicken in a palm oil sauce. I was very impressed, usually it's some gross looking meat-fish heads or something.
After lunch we just hung out. It was so refreshing to not only know that these people didn't want something from me, but also that they were Christians and I felt safe. It was this kind of (for lack of a better word)...chummy atmosphere. Within no time I felt like I had known these people for a long time. People would sit with their backs against the wall or lay sprawled out on the floor chatting and laughing. This time they were all goofing around on the keyboard and were making up this spur of the moment Christian rap. It was fun. Before long all our heads were bobbing to the music.
And then we all sat in this loose circle while Tim Batt (the guy that first invited me) told them the ins and outs of club and leadership and financial things. Yes, it was kind of boring. But I was happy. It felt so much life family. It's normal for everyone to sit close together...and we all were brothers and sisters in Christ. And every once in a while a finger would point with a small smile and someone would be nudged awake. And several asked questions and James and Tim did their best to answer them.
Afterwards there was a small break. I met these two leaders who had come from Sierra Leone to train in Monrovia on their off time. It is so awesome to see how God draws people from everywhere. It was neat because they were super attentive during the training, but also totally willing to dance around and be crazy during the club part. Tim and I did music. We ended up using a CD, while we sang. We were basically demonstrating what an American club was like. We sang songs like, Sweet Home Alabama, Brown Eyed Girl, Amazing Grace, and this one song called Jabulani Africa. The first song we did one of the guys got up and did this crazy dance and we were all following. And then when we did this kind of disco Lean on Me, they were all dancing and cheering and they loved the skit. And Tim's talk was really great. It was about how he had always wanted to jump out of an airplane with a parachute and how when he finally did it he had to put all his trust in this guy strapped to his back to make sure he pulled the parachute at the right time. And that's how it is when we accept Christ into our lives. Even though they were all already Christians, I think it was really good for them to understand the simplicity and set up of a club talk, how it's not really a sermon.
And then with many hugs and goodbyes we went home to the ship. John was working my super shift. It sounded life it had went smoothly. Everything was working. But today he's in the IC. They think it's heat exhaustion. Apparently they had gotten lost, while going to a church yesterday and they kept getting directions to different churches and then they finally called the ship and the person that was supposed to come get them never showed up. Somehow they managed to get back. And then they were working in the hot dining room...He hadn't mentioned it at all...Please pray that he gets better soon. I feel guilty. Thankfully though Ellen is on their team so they're not entirely short staffed.
Well, it's a beautiful day and a day off so I'm going to savor it outside.
Please keep in touch. I'm missing the e-mails.--Love you all!
Door opens.
"So this morning one of the coffee machines wasn't working and that same electrician guy talked to me about the dishwashers, but they were both working this morning. You know how one was working and one wasn't and they kept switching so we'd tell him the left one and then by the time he came it would be the right one that wasn't working? Well, yeah, now it's just one of the coffee machines. "
Pause for breath.
"Need to fill water bottle, OK super packed...laptop for the overhead...yeah it's with this outreach to unchurched teens called Young Life. I really don't know what I'm getting myself into...supposed to be a leaders meeting..definitely a God thing...I live on a Young Life camp...randomly met this guy over the buffet line who's trying to get Young Life started in Monrovia. I'm leading worship...OK! See ya!"
Door slams.
30 seconds later: "right, my ID and key...adios"-
Door slams.
A minute later: "So I rush up there and he kind of strolls up. Need a water bottle. Don't rush around like me!"
Door slams.
They definitely think I'm crazy.
He had booked a taxi the day before with one of the leaders involved in Young Life. After about 30 minutes we stop, the smell of sewage permeating the car. It was in Monrovia, the capitol, but apparently not the better off part. We take this dirty path weaving between buildings and shanties...up the stairs and we enter this concrete room filled with about 20 or 30 African college students. Once we got out of the street it didn't smell. We make some quick introductions, I can feel them all watching me...but with curiosity, not the usual quick-way-to-get-rich-white-girl stare. We set up the power point for the songs.
They had a key board there. Some where playing on it and I sat and listened. They would get this beat going and then play chords and at one point they were singing with it. I could tell it was all by ear. It was cool.
And then we all got taxis and went to church. It was the biggest church I have seen yet. Crazy, like a normal church, just with a tin roof ...but with pews and everything. And we sang loud hymns and listened to a sermon on "our changing world." And how it has so easily become perverted. At some points the pastor would start yelling, but it was mainly and the front pews in the right hand corner where the children sat. They showed no inclination whatsoever that this was new. After a while I became used to the occasional bouts of yelling...but I got the gist of the sermon and it was good. The microphone was passed around and we all introduced ourselves. And then suddenly a thousand hands were thrust forward for the shaking and I felt very welcome.
Afterwards, we went back to the concrete room. And had a delicious African lunch made by Jame's wife, Rebecca. It was delicious. Rice, of course, with chicken in a palm oil sauce. I was very impressed, usually it's some gross looking meat-fish heads or something.
After lunch we just hung out. It was so refreshing to not only know that these people didn't want something from me, but also that they were Christians and I felt safe. It was this kind of (for lack of a better word)...chummy atmosphere. Within no time I felt like I had known these people for a long time. People would sit with their backs against the wall or lay sprawled out on the floor chatting and laughing. This time they were all goofing around on the keyboard and were making up this spur of the moment Christian rap. It was fun. Before long all our heads were bobbing to the music.
And then we all sat in this loose circle while Tim Batt (the guy that first invited me) told them the ins and outs of club and leadership and financial things. Yes, it was kind of boring. But I was happy. It felt so much life family. It's normal for everyone to sit close together...and we all were brothers and sisters in Christ. And every once in a while a finger would point with a small smile and someone would be nudged awake. And several asked questions and James and Tim did their best to answer them.
Afterwards there was a small break. I met these two leaders who had come from Sierra Leone to train in Monrovia on their off time. It is so awesome to see how God draws people from everywhere. It was neat because they were super attentive during the training, but also totally willing to dance around and be crazy during the club part. Tim and I did music. We ended up using a CD, while we sang. We were basically demonstrating what an American club was like. We sang songs like, Sweet Home Alabama, Brown Eyed Girl, Amazing Grace, and this one song called Jabulani Africa. The first song we did one of the guys got up and did this crazy dance and we were all following. And then when we did this kind of disco Lean on Me, they were all dancing and cheering and they loved the skit. And Tim's talk was really great. It was about how he had always wanted to jump out of an airplane with a parachute and how when he finally did it he had to put all his trust in this guy strapped to his back to make sure he pulled the parachute at the right time. And that's how it is when we accept Christ into our lives. Even though they were all already Christians, I think it was really good for them to understand the simplicity and set up of a club talk, how it's not really a sermon.
And then with many hugs and goodbyes we went home to the ship. John was working my super shift. It sounded life it had went smoothly. Everything was working. But today he's in the IC. They think it's heat exhaustion. Apparently they had gotten lost, while going to a church yesterday and they kept getting directions to different churches and then they finally called the ship and the person that was supposed to come get them never showed up. Somehow they managed to get back. And then they were working in the hot dining room...He hadn't mentioned it at all...Please pray that he gets better soon. I feel guilty. Thankfully though Ellen is on their team so they're not entirely short staffed.
Well, it's a beautiful day and a day off so I'm going to savor it outside.
Please keep in touch. I'm missing the e-mails.--Love you all!
Friday, August 22, 2008
Dinosaur Hair Clips :)
Hi, I'm back. Our new roommates Cindy, Mayellen, and Ellen arrived this week. Of course they're still just adjusting and working on opening up, but they seem friendly. Cindy's from Canada and Mayellen's from the Netherlands and Ellen's from Norway for Sweden or something like that. We watched the most hilarious 80's chick flick last night. We all brought our pillows and made one of the beds into a couch. It's call Girls Just Want to Have Fun. Some of my roommates were reminiscing about the side ponytails and poofy hair etc. Frankly I was ever so thankful that I had not been born in the 80s, but it was fun hearing them talk about it. Sarah who's English, kept talking about the amazing dinosaur hairclips in the movie. She wanted them. It was great.
There was some babysitting drama this week. This time I was babysitting both Luke and his sister. Time wise it wasn't bad at all. I just wasn't prepared for them challenging my authority. And then it was one of those mental things were I began to question my own ability to take care of them, even though I often babysit for several children at a time at home. By the end of it I was an emotional wreck. I didn't even know what to say. I ended up just telling them I was really tired and left as soon as possible. I rushed down to our room with this huge lump in my throat, on the verge of tears. I sat in our little sitting area, head in arms, leaning against the wall and enjoying the sheer misery and tasting the hot angry tears. Mayellen finally approached me and asked if I was alright and like a little child I shook my head. Between sniffles and half-hearted laughs I blurted out every injustice that had happened that day. It felt good to get it out. I was later approached by their mother about it. It was really good to be reassured about the whole thing. And I assured them that I was still willing to babysit: I hadn't been scarred for life...yet :)
A few days ago I was approached by a worker here from Ghana. He said that at lunch time he had something "of African culture" for me. I warily agreed to meet him. At lunch he gave me this amazing African bracelet and necklace made with black, red, yellow and green sead beads; the colors of the Ghana flag. I was really touched. As it turns out, Cindy is really into making hemp bracelets, so she had brought supplies. I think I'll make a hemp bracelet with the colors of the US flag for him. I'm also excited because it widens my horizons present-wise for crew on the ship. I also just found out that Geneen was homeschooled all the way through highschool. We've started walking in the evenings and just talking and talking. It's very uplifting and refreshing. I have the coolest roommates
Oh, and more exciting news. I met this guy over the buffet line a few days ago and as it turns out he's involved with getting Young Life started in Monrovia! He used to work at Lake Champion before coming here where he works as the pharmicist. It was really a God thing. I kept meeting people that had heard of Young Life but not anyone that was actually involved in it, so this was really exciting. He invited me to an all-day meeting this Sunday where he'll be giving the leaders in training a taste of what a Young Life club is like in the US. The problem for me was that I work Sunday. I was hesistant to approach any of the other team about taking one of my shifts untill they had had at least one day off. And then out of the blue someone offered. And it was like a confirmation from God that He did want me to go. I'm going to help lead songs, so we're gonna be meeting after work today to practice. He said it's a pretty small group. He's still figuring out the technical things and needs someone that can play guitar. Please pray that God would lead us to the right person for the music. Pray that God would provide strength and smooth all the details out. The captain, who also used to be involved with Young Life will be there (aaaah!)
Adios for now. Keep in touch. I love and miss you all!
There was some babysitting drama this week. This time I was babysitting both Luke and his sister. Time wise it wasn't bad at all. I just wasn't prepared for them challenging my authority. And then it was one of those mental things were I began to question my own ability to take care of them, even though I often babysit for several children at a time at home. By the end of it I was an emotional wreck. I didn't even know what to say. I ended up just telling them I was really tired and left as soon as possible. I rushed down to our room with this huge lump in my throat, on the verge of tears. I sat in our little sitting area, head in arms, leaning against the wall and enjoying the sheer misery and tasting the hot angry tears. Mayellen finally approached me and asked if I was alright and like a little child I shook my head. Between sniffles and half-hearted laughs I blurted out every injustice that had happened that day. It felt good to get it out. I was later approached by their mother about it. It was really good to be reassured about the whole thing. And I assured them that I was still willing to babysit: I hadn't been scarred for life...yet :)
A few days ago I was approached by a worker here from Ghana. He said that at lunch time he had something "of African culture" for me. I warily agreed to meet him. At lunch he gave me this amazing African bracelet and necklace made with black, red, yellow and green sead beads; the colors of the Ghana flag. I was really touched. As it turns out, Cindy is really into making hemp bracelets, so she had brought supplies. I think I'll make a hemp bracelet with the colors of the US flag for him. I'm also excited because it widens my horizons present-wise for crew on the ship. I also just found out that Geneen was homeschooled all the way through highschool. We've started walking in the evenings and just talking and talking. It's very uplifting and refreshing. I have the coolest roommates
Oh, and more exciting news. I met this guy over the buffet line a few days ago and as it turns out he's involved with getting Young Life started in Monrovia! He used to work at Lake Champion before coming here where he works as the pharmicist. It was really a God thing. I kept meeting people that had heard of Young Life but not anyone that was actually involved in it, so this was really exciting. He invited me to an all-day meeting this Sunday where he'll be giving the leaders in training a taste of what a Young Life club is like in the US. The problem for me was that I work Sunday. I was hesistant to approach any of the other team about taking one of my shifts untill they had had at least one day off. And then out of the blue someone offered. And it was like a confirmation from God that He did want me to go. I'm going to help lead songs, so we're gonna be meeting after work today to practice. He said it's a pretty small group. He's still figuring out the technical things and needs someone that can play guitar. Please pray that God would lead us to the right person for the music. Pray that God would provide strength and smooth all the details out. The captain, who also used to be involved with Young Life will be there (aaaah!)
Adios for now. Keep in touch. I love and miss you all!
Sunday, August 17, 2008
Fri-Tuesday-catchup
I have become more and more aware of just how much this is a land of contrasts. People with nothing in the way of furniture sell rows and rows of leather couches. People wear these intricately woven and embroidered clothes; these dresses of beautiful bright vibrant colors-but they go home to shacks smaller than my bedroom. Shacks that flood every time it rains. Shacks made of tin and rags and palm branches. Some of the really nice ones are made of cement blocks. These people live in such squalor and yet they have a kind of grace about them. The way they carry themselves. People walk with a purpose and sit without any. We go to the beach and pass people sitting on the side of the road talking. Or sitting with a small radio pressed against their ear. Or sitting and staring with a kind of blank expression at the passing traffic. 5 hours later we pass them again on our way back.
Friday: Before going to white sands beach there was this announcement that "all crew of the Africa Mercy are to report to the International Lounge immediately." Just minutes before hand the captain had been notified that the minister of health of Liberia was coming with some members of the press to refute a rumor that has been going around about Mercy Ships.
About a week ago an article was published in a newspaper here that Mercy Ships kills people to take vital organs and then sell them. One of the people that screen people had a little boy come up to him saying that he had an uncle that wanted to sell his kidney. When they went to investigate, they realized that they were planning on selling the kidney of a retarded child. The minister apologized profusely and stated that it was an embarrassment to Liberia. he also reminded us that people who are used to a land filled with war sometimes have mentalities that are out of wack. Please pray that God would keep all the people involved with Mercy Ships safe as well as stifle this rumor that threatens to prevent people coming for help.
Afterwards, we went to White Sands Beach. It was insane. We passed through this refugee camp filled with chickens and children and puddles and dust. But when we got there it was like a resort. Waves crashing against rocks that seemed to guard the beach. A single fishing boat. Tables and chairs and umbrellas and cokes.
Geneene and I had a blast. We spent hours splashing in the waves and talking. I'm very thankful that she's staying for 6 months too. My current cabin mates include Geneene, Sarah, Alice, Cindy, Dorothy, Amy and Emily. And two more are coming in a few days. Despite the constant ebb and flow of people we've definitely had some roommate bonding experiences. Like the time there were seven girls squished on to my bed to watch a chick flick. Or last night when we were all planning to watch a movie but we ended up sitting around till twelve swapping funny stories. Sarah told us of how she used to scare people by lying in the hallways imitating someone fallen from an air vent. She does a really good impression. It's hilarious. Geneene told us of their crazy neighbor. It went on and on-I think by the end all our stomachs hurt from laughing so much.
That night there was a talent show and all the dining room staff walked in with trays of candy to hand out to the tune of "Be Our Guest" from the little Mermaid and the boys (aka John, Bates and Dotty) filled bowls with shaving cream and pied three people in the face. They also did this crazy sailor song for another act.
I was so exhausted but ended up swapping stories with the other girls in our cabin. And then blissful sleep...
Sunday morning....I was working with their dining room team (Bates and I traded so he could work today while I babysat for the Davies.)
I roll out of bed stumble around trying to get ready and eventually show up at seven for work.
7:00...No one there
OK I can deal with this...start the dishwashers..load a tray of snack dishes...
7:15...No one there
This is a really bad practical joke maybe they got up and got everything ready and went back to bed
7:25..No one there
AAAAh...ok..ok..I can't call there rooms-I don't know last names-are they all going off of one alarm?...the cupboards are still locked...where's the key?! In a nearby room:
"Amanda, I'm sorry I now you're leaving today... your not working..but no ones up there and I traded with Bates and I don't know how to contact them and....
Well I'm alive to tell the story. That night there were 50 people arriving so the dishes just kept coming.
Monday was my first day being team leader. Becca left that day. It was a long weekend so we didn't work lunch and we all went to this really nice restaurant. They served African food. But it was all very westernized and the music was English. I have to admit that i enjoyed the experience of a "real African" restaurant better. Maybe it was the crampedness or the way it smelled or the thatched walls etc. But it was a very nice restaurant. It was kind of a goodbye party for Becca. Some of the staff at my end of the table began telling how they got involved in Mercy Ships. it is so crazy how god has pursued all of us. These people remind me so much of the Young Life staff. Their crazy sense of humor-their tendencies of throwing things at each other-their love for God.
Oh, speaking of Young Life...I met this guy here named Tim B...b something or other. Anyway-he's going to this Young Life meeting here and invited me to come next Sunday. It was really exciting for me. I had met people who had heard of Young life but no one that was actually involved with it. I had told him that I live in the Adirondack mountains in New York. and I told him about Saranac..Well eventually we realized that he had been weorking at Lake Champion. It was so cool to think that there's Young Life here.
Well, I survived my first day being team leader...
Today, Tuesday I had a day off. Bates was working my shift all day since I was babysitting for the Davies family. That means I got to sleep in. :) At least till 7:00am. I babysat this little boy named Luke. He is two years old and very good. He can get crazy at times, but he is usually very mellow. We took a walk on the dock and he splashed in puddles and then we spent several hours in the Library playing with their little Noah's Ark toys. He's very cute. I ended at lunchtime. It was really nice to have the rest of the day off. Thank you so much for your letters. They're so special. I've been writing some back. I guess it just seems more personal when it's a letter. But warning: don't send me letters if you want me to read it within two weeks. But I did love them. It doesn't even have to have writing in it-just a drawing or a fun quote. Love you all so much..Don't get too scared..most of my posts wont be this long :)
Friday: Before going to white sands beach there was this announcement that "all crew of the Africa Mercy are to report to the International Lounge immediately." Just minutes before hand the captain had been notified that the minister of health of Liberia was coming with some members of the press to refute a rumor that has been going around about Mercy Ships.
About a week ago an article was published in a newspaper here that Mercy Ships kills people to take vital organs and then sell them. One of the people that screen people had a little boy come up to him saying that he had an uncle that wanted to sell his kidney. When they went to investigate, they realized that they were planning on selling the kidney of a retarded child. The minister apologized profusely and stated that it was an embarrassment to Liberia. he also reminded us that people who are used to a land filled with war sometimes have mentalities that are out of wack. Please pray that God would keep all the people involved with Mercy Ships safe as well as stifle this rumor that threatens to prevent people coming for help.
Afterwards, we went to White Sands Beach. It was insane. We passed through this refugee camp filled with chickens and children and puddles and dust. But when we got there it was like a resort. Waves crashing against rocks that seemed to guard the beach. A single fishing boat. Tables and chairs and umbrellas and cokes.
Geneene and I had a blast. We spent hours splashing in the waves and talking. I'm very thankful that she's staying for 6 months too. My current cabin mates include Geneene, Sarah, Alice, Cindy, Dorothy, Amy and Emily. And two more are coming in a few days. Despite the constant ebb and flow of people we've definitely had some roommate bonding experiences. Like the time there were seven girls squished on to my bed to watch a chick flick. Or last night when we were all planning to watch a movie but we ended up sitting around till twelve swapping funny stories. Sarah told us of how she used to scare people by lying in the hallways imitating someone fallen from an air vent. She does a really good impression. It's hilarious. Geneene told us of their crazy neighbor. It went on and on-I think by the end all our stomachs hurt from laughing so much.
Saturday: the Craft market. They advertise their wares with a kind of desperate energy and make us promise to come back. But they don't believe that we will. They have these amazing hand carvings made of ebony. At some points it shines a deep impenetrable black and at other points there is an abrupt change to a blond color wood. They have these carvings of women carrying water jugs on their heads. These carvings are so thin and tall-with flowing lines. There is no denying it is an art. They also make these miniature hippos and elephants and turtles. Some paint: I was struck by a particular one. It was of this beautiful woman. Beads around her neck and her dark hair shining. And her face (all but her eyes) is covered by this wood bowl. It was Africa starving.
They also sell various kinds of cloth-some embroidered with sequins-others with designs and flowers and some are just plain. Bone napkin holders-necklaces made of shells and glass beads and chips made from fried bananas. I bought nothing and plan to go back now that I know what they have. What do you all want for Christmas?-seriously
After the Craft market we went to Mama Fatu's orphanage again to give the children the pictures that Lydia had taken. They loved it. They remembered my name! I played soccer with some of the young boys. And then we played this game where you toss the ball to each other. They kept dropping the ball to somehow give me more points. I started dropping the ball to give them more points. It didn't work. They wanted to hear more about where I lived on Mercy Ships and if Lydia was in an airplane and all the little girls tried to plait my hair. I love them all and will come back.
They also sell various kinds of cloth-some embroidered with sequins-others with designs and flowers and some are just plain. Bone napkin holders-necklaces made of shells and glass beads and chips made from fried bananas. I bought nothing and plan to go back now that I know what they have. What do you all want for Christmas?-seriously
After the Craft market we went to Mama Fatu's orphanage again to give the children the pictures that Lydia had taken. They loved it. They remembered my name! I played soccer with some of the young boys. And then we played this game where you toss the ball to each other. They kept dropping the ball to somehow give me more points. I started dropping the ball to give them more points. It didn't work. They wanted to hear more about where I lived on Mercy Ships and if Lydia was in an airplane and all the little girls tried to plait my hair. I love them all and will come back.
That night there was a talent show and all the dining room staff walked in with trays of candy to hand out to the tune of "Be Our Guest" from the little Mermaid and the boys (aka John, Bates and Dotty) filled bowls with shaving cream and pied three people in the face. They also did this crazy sailor song for another act.
I was so exhausted but ended up swapping stories with the other girls in our cabin. And then blissful sleep...
Sunday morning....I was working with their dining room team (Bates and I traded so he could work today while I babysat for the Davies.)
I roll out of bed stumble around trying to get ready and eventually show up at seven for work.
7:00...No one there
OK I can deal with this...start the dishwashers..load a tray of snack dishes...
7:15...No one there
This is a really bad practical joke maybe they got up and got everything ready and went back to bed
7:25..No one there
AAAAh...ok..ok..I can't call there rooms-I don't know last names-are they all going off of one alarm?...the cupboards are still locked...where's the key?! In a nearby room:
"Amanda, I'm sorry I now you're leaving today... your not working..but no ones up there and I traded with Bates and I don't know how to contact them and....
Well I'm alive to tell the story. That night there were 50 people arriving so the dishes just kept coming.
Monday was my first day being team leader. Becca left that day. It was a long weekend so we didn't work lunch and we all went to this really nice restaurant. They served African food. But it was all very westernized and the music was English. I have to admit that i enjoyed the experience of a "real African" restaurant better. Maybe it was the crampedness or the way it smelled or the thatched walls etc. But it was a very nice restaurant. It was kind of a goodbye party for Becca. Some of the staff at my end of the table began telling how they got involved in Mercy Ships. it is so crazy how god has pursued all of us. These people remind me so much of the Young Life staff. Their crazy sense of humor-their tendencies of throwing things at each other-their love for God.
Oh, speaking of Young Life...I met this guy here named Tim B...b something or other. Anyway-he's going to this Young Life meeting here and invited me to come next Sunday. It was really exciting for me. I had met people who had heard of Young life but no one that was actually involved with it. I had told him that I live in the Adirondack mountains in New York. and I told him about Saranac..Well eventually we realized that he had been weorking at Lake Champion. It was so cool to think that there's Young Life here.
Well, I survived my first day being team leader...
Today, Tuesday I had a day off. Bates was working my shift all day since I was babysitting for the Davies family. That means I got to sleep in. :) At least till 7:00am. I babysat this little boy named Luke. He is two years old and very good. He can get crazy at times, but he is usually very mellow. We took a walk on the dock and he splashed in puddles and then we spent several hours in the Library playing with their little Noah's Ark toys. He's very cute. I ended at lunchtime. It was really nice to have the rest of the day off. Thank you so much for your letters. They're so special. I've been writing some back. I guess it just seems more personal when it's a letter. But warning: don't send me letters if you want me to read it within two weeks. But I did love them. It doesn't even have to have writing in it-just a drawing or a fun quote. Love you all so much..Don't get too scared..most of my posts wont be this long :)
Tuesday, August 12, 2008
I love the rain
I will love the rain. As if a sheer act of will could possibly lift this lead cloud. This impenetrable black board or should I say whiteboard of sky that threatens to suffocate my very existence. This merciless weather that laughs as it as it pounds out all color blending everything into a gentle grey. The kind of gentle that gets just enough on my nerves to feel like Chinese water torture. No amount of pleading with myself will lift the greyness that is slowly seeping in.
Yesterday I ate for the first time at an African restaurant. About the size of a bedroom with space for sun to come in between the thatched walls and the roof. I loved it. The hot rice and spicey palm nut sauce. It was delicious. I could feel my whole mouth burning as I ate it. I liked it because I was eating a meal off the ship and it made me feel so wonderfully rebellious. Besides fact that I was with two of my roomates that have been in Africa before and are quite well versed in the African lifestyles and what is safe to consume.
After that, we went to the malnutrition center again. Time passes so quickly there. When the children were done inspecting my hair and skin the mothers would hand off their tiny babies for me to hold. These little black hands rapped around my fingers and I would just stand their swaying gently afraid even to breath lest the sweetness of the moment be somehow inevitably broken. I could tell that some of them hadn't been there very long. I could still feel tiny ribs and fragile skin that hung loosely off their bodies. Some of the children would be afraid. And for good reason, it must be terrifying to see a human being of a different color for the first time in one's life-and white at that-were there more? purple and green? :) The shy ones would giggle and peek from doorways and chase eachother around in front of me.
Today was my second day in training. yesterday I spent most of it wondering why on earth I was there. They showed some movies, but non of it was very informative. However, today I felt like I was actually getting some information, if not an overload. They talked of how to stay healthy on the ship-good coping methods, and bad coping methods. Dealing with conflict. Safety procedures and international laws the ship is supposed to follow, crew pharmacy and safety drills on board the ship. I actually really enjoyed it. Yes, I was very stiff after several hours of sitting, but in a way it was soothing even if I didn't soak up all the information. I was thuroughly convinced of the safety of the ship as well as the fact that people are here to listen to and help crew members.
I am sitting here at the computer and suddenly everything seems very loud. Someone shaking their knee impatiently. Someone humming the same tune over and over. The sound of the engine. The sound of the Olympics going on in some screen in one of the adjacent lounges. People laughing by the ship shop downstairs. The sound of the machine they use to make the hot drinks. The occasional click of the mouse. I think it's the rain getting to me.
OK I might as well face it. I am Corina Gochenaur and I am a chocoholic and I do NOT love the rain.
Yesterday I ate for the first time at an African restaurant. About the size of a bedroom with space for sun to come in between the thatched walls and the roof. I loved it. The hot rice and spicey palm nut sauce. It was delicious. I could feel my whole mouth burning as I ate it. I liked it because I was eating a meal off the ship and it made me feel so wonderfully rebellious. Besides fact that I was with two of my roomates that have been in Africa before and are quite well versed in the African lifestyles and what is safe to consume.
After that, we went to the malnutrition center again. Time passes so quickly there. When the children were done inspecting my hair and skin the mothers would hand off their tiny babies for me to hold. These little black hands rapped around my fingers and I would just stand their swaying gently afraid even to breath lest the sweetness of the moment be somehow inevitably broken. I could tell that some of them hadn't been there very long. I could still feel tiny ribs and fragile skin that hung loosely off their bodies. Some of the children would be afraid. And for good reason, it must be terrifying to see a human being of a different color for the first time in one's life-and white at that-were there more? purple and green? :) The shy ones would giggle and peek from doorways and chase eachother around in front of me.
Today was my second day in training. yesterday I spent most of it wondering why on earth I was there. They showed some movies, but non of it was very informative. However, today I felt like I was actually getting some information, if not an overload. They talked of how to stay healthy on the ship-good coping methods, and bad coping methods. Dealing with conflict. Safety procedures and international laws the ship is supposed to follow, crew pharmacy and safety drills on board the ship. I actually really enjoyed it. Yes, I was very stiff after several hours of sitting, but in a way it was soothing even if I didn't soak up all the information. I was thuroughly convinced of the safety of the ship as well as the fact that people are here to listen to and help crew members.
I am sitting here at the computer and suddenly everything seems very loud. Someone shaking their knee impatiently. Someone humming the same tune over and over. The sound of the engine. The sound of the Olympics going on in some screen in one of the adjacent lounges. People laughing by the ship shop downstairs. The sound of the machine they use to make the hot drinks. The occasional click of the mouse. I think it's the rain getting to me.
OK I might as well face it. I am Corina Gochenaur and I am a chocoholic and I do NOT love the rain.
Sunday, August 10, 2008
A Momentous Occasion
Close your eyes. Now imagine it is Friday. And pretend I am not so behind on my blog:
Today is a momentous occasion.
I am learning the prestigious art of bread care. Not necessarily the making of the bread but in my specific case the order in which it is taken out of the galley racks. I got a talking to today by Eddy the returned cook who takes his bread very seriously.
The bread is then placed in a terrifying machine. The Bread Cutter. With a quivering hand I pull the menacing black handle towards myself. The machine comes to life with bone-shaking roar as it opens it's great mouth. The doomed loaf is then placed in between this monster's jaws. I let the handle go. The now sliced bread slides out from the dark depths and then deposited with still shaking hands onto the buffet lines.
Today is a momentous occasion.
It has rained four straight days in Africa.
Today is a momentous occasion.
It is 8/8/08. The Olympics. I fought distraction all afternoon with the opening ceremonies playing on the televisions in the dining room. The entire thing was so awe inspiring. It was so artistic and rhythmic and and colorful. Every country's team entering with pride. And the outfits and the flags and the leaders of the countries there. I want those red dresses that the Chinese women got to wear.
Today is a momentous occasion.
I went to Mama Fasu's orphanage again and loved it. The children recognized me and I made a longer list of names to memorize. One of the little girls played a hand clapping game with me. In a sing song voice she sang with words so similar to the jump rope and hand clapping games we would play at home. We played hop scotch and they tried (unsuccessfully I might add) to teach me a game involving different teams and squares sketched in the dirt that people darted in and out of. This time Becca, our new team leader went with me. It was fun.
Today is a momentous occasion.
Today is a momentous occasion.
I am learning the prestigious art of bread care. Not necessarily the making of the bread but in my specific case the order in which it is taken out of the galley racks. I got a talking to today by Eddy the returned cook who takes his bread very seriously.
The bread is then placed in a terrifying machine. The Bread Cutter. With a quivering hand I pull the menacing black handle towards myself. The machine comes to life with bone-shaking roar as it opens it's great mouth. The doomed loaf is then placed in between this monster's jaws. I let the handle go. The now sliced bread slides out from the dark depths and then deposited with still shaking hands onto the buffet lines.
Today is a momentous occasion.
It has rained four straight days in Africa.
Today is a momentous occasion.
It is 8/8/08. The Olympics. I fought distraction all afternoon with the opening ceremonies playing on the televisions in the dining room. The entire thing was so awe inspiring. It was so artistic and rhythmic and and colorful. Every country's team entering with pride. And the outfits and the flags and the leaders of the countries there. I want those red dresses that the Chinese women got to wear.
Today is a momentous occasion.
I went to Mama Fasu's orphanage again and loved it. The children recognized me and I made a longer list of names to memorize. One of the little girls played a hand clapping game with me. In a sing song voice she sang with words so similar to the jump rope and hand clapping games we would play at home. We played hop scotch and they tried (unsuccessfully I might add) to teach me a game involving different teams and squares sketched in the dirt that people darted in and out of. This time Becca, our new team leader went with me. It was fun.
Today is a momentous occasion.
Thursday, August 7, 2008
Splish Splash
We saw my cockroach friend again last night. I was already in bed desperately trying to fade off into sleep. I could hear Jessi, "oh my gosh it's on the curtain." And then all the others got involved and I could here them corralling it. "Oh, no now we have to move the stuff-ew, it's behind there-see it?" I could hear tons of shuffling and things scraping against the floor and someone mentioned a insect spray and for the next 10 minutes I heard them spraying and spraying and I could smell it and I was sure I was gonna be dead in the morning. And then I heard them all debating over which shoe to use and then them hitting the wall with the shoe. My cockroach friend is now in cockroach heaven.
I didn't realize I had been holding my breath untill I let it out in a huge relieved sigh. I touched the curtain around my bed appreciatively and snuggled deeper under the now familiar yellow duvet cover. I had a nightmare last night that my entire family had changed and everyone was sullen and bickering and no one was happy. I dreamt that Mom had suddenly started swearing and we had a huge fight and by the end of the dream I just wanted to be back on the Mercy Ship. I was so relieved to find I was indeed still here, and my family was still alive and happy.
As is now usual on my day offs I had missed the early breakfast. After grabbing a banana from the small kitchen in our room I had a wonderfully chocolatey cup of hot cocoa and watched the rain (yes, it's raining once again). But this time the rain makes me kind of happy. Happy to be inside in warmth smelling the coffee and chocolate from the Starbucks and hearing children play on the piano and hearing laughs from the lounge tables. For the first time I noticed how the windows on the ship have little ledges that make the rain splash up back ontot the glass. I suppose it makes up for not having ground outside to become muddy and full of puddles. That's what I miss. Big clean muddy puddles. I suppose it's rather an oxymoron, but you don't now dirty untill you've walked the streets of Liberia. the constant pelting of the rain gave the ocean this frosted look except for in certain areas. It almost looked like Our lake when it is almost frozen. It was neat.
The people are my sunshine. Thank you so much for all your prayers and support and I love you all and feel like in a way a piece of each of you is here with me.
I didn't realize I had been holding my breath untill I let it out in a huge relieved sigh. I touched the curtain around my bed appreciatively and snuggled deeper under the now familiar yellow duvet cover. I had a nightmare last night that my entire family had changed and everyone was sullen and bickering and no one was happy. I dreamt that Mom had suddenly started swearing and we had a huge fight and by the end of the dream I just wanted to be back on the Mercy Ship. I was so relieved to find I was indeed still here, and my family was still alive and happy.
As is now usual on my day offs I had missed the early breakfast. After grabbing a banana from the small kitchen in our room I had a wonderfully chocolatey cup of hot cocoa and watched the rain (yes, it's raining once again). But this time the rain makes me kind of happy. Happy to be inside in warmth smelling the coffee and chocolate from the Starbucks and hearing children play on the piano and hearing laughs from the lounge tables. For the first time I noticed how the windows on the ship have little ledges that make the rain splash up back ontot the glass. I suppose it makes up for not having ground outside to become muddy and full of puddles. That's what I miss. Big clean muddy puddles. I suppose it's rather an oxymoron, but you don't now dirty untill you've walked the streets of Liberia. the constant pelting of the rain gave the ocean this frosted look except for in certain areas. It almost looked like Our lake when it is almost frozen. It was neat.
The people are my sunshine. Thank you so much for all your prayers and support and I love you all and feel like in a way a piece of each of you is here with me.
Wednesday, August 6, 2008
Namesakes and marriage proposals
Today I awoke in that wonderful morning state of happy warmth and numbness. At 11:00am. :) I love days off. After having such a wonderful yesterday today seemed golden. I took a shower. They can only be two minutes long, so you just get used to turning it off and on allot. I had lunch and then went to Duahla Market again. This time with Katie and Sarah, our new roomate from England. Katie was shopping for her namesake; little two week old girl. The mother was much too shy to tell her what they needed so she got a list from the aunt. We searched around allot and eventually were able to find a baby bath that wasn't part of a package and was less than 30 US dollars. we also bought 3 cans of rice and a small bag of peppers and 5 cubes of soup flavoring and two baby wonzies. It's amazing how small everything seems here. They put spices in bags smaller than my pinkie finger. They treated me to a fried dough twist that the lady patted in a very course sugar. It tasted allot like a doughnut and was scrumptious. I also exchanged 5 US dollars for 315 LB dollars. They were purchasing lappas of cloth and some head scarves. But the exchange had totally thrown me off. Now I was suddenly paying hunddreds of dollars when I had been paying just a buck or two in US. It was dificult to gage whether or not something was too expensive. I felt more comfortable this time. I really started to appreciate. Every one saying hello. And the little children that all wanted to shake my had and give me high fives and the ione little girl in the market that reached up to touch my hair. We stopped at a shack to get sodas-they looked like 50's soda bottles just thinner. There was a little girl that jsut stood there and held my hand. It was so sweet. Katie got a marriage proposal. And there was one man who claimed to "always love Americans and British." He kept following us and told his "Auntie" that he was escorting us. At first it is very unnerving. But eventually you learn to simply apologize and say you need to go. So he proposed to Katie. We all looked at eachother-for a second-each of us thinking-what would you say?- Katie was good: "I am too young, my father doesn't want me to marry."
When I was at Duahla beach the little boys were telling me to come with them to marry one of the men. The only thing I could think to say was that my heart was already taken by God. "Do you have children?" Oh goodness...
Dad don't freak out, your baby girl's not about to come home with a boyfriend. Now Jordan is the one you should be worrying about. Tell him to e-mail me and Kayt too. I want ot hear more from them. Love you all so much-keep me updated!
When I was at Duahla beach the little boys were telling me to come with them to marry one of the men. The only thing I could think to say was that my heart was already taken by God. "Do you have children?" Oh goodness...
Dad don't freak out, your baby girl's not about to come home with a boyfriend. Now Jordan is the one you should be worrying about. Tell him to e-mail me and Kayt too. I want ot hear more from them. Love you all so much-keep me updated!
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