Creepy Crawlers

The first night I arrived at my new home in Kigali, Rwanda, I was privileged the rare sight of animals only rarely seen in the kitchen of my prior school at Moody Bible Institute, and definitely a rarity not viewed in Washington State. Low and behold, there were two large cockroaches crawling in the kitchen. One was a nice reddish tan color that Pippa (my roommate) unmercifully murdered with bug spray, and the other managed to escape her wrath by hiding behind the cupboards. Nevertheless, he peeked his head out again as I was walking barefoot in the dark. Luckily my bare foot narrowly missed squashing the poor soul. Since then, we have set up cockroach poison around the house, consisting of a natural remedy of baking soda and sugar in bottle caps. Hopefully they will taste the bittersweet concoction of death soon.

Last night I also discovered I had company sleeping with me in bed. My nights have definitely not been lonely, as I have woken up to seeing dark objects in my bed (maybe seeing things?) and then actually captured a long worm creature with hundreds of legs (sound like a centipede? Think again).

Okay, beyond the silly news. My time so far in Rwanda has been packed with overseeing the construction of our new home, learning the ropes of being executive director, continual long visits to the bank (credit cards and checks would make life so much easier here), and spending time with the boys.

The boys have grown so much in the last year it is incredible. We also have 5 new boys that have been accepted into the HFLM program since I was last here. One of the boys, Djuhudi had a very hard time on the streets and became so malnourished his home switched from the streets to the hospital for 2 months. When we first accepted Djuhudi into our program, the nurses and doctors at the hospital had given up hope on him surviving- they thought he would surely die because of how sick he was. Now, he has almost doubled in weight and is doing very well at the home. He is such a sweet boy, and is one of the largest shareholders (little Emmanuel refuses to be bought out) of holding my hand. When we go on walks to places, the little boys like to fight over who gets to hold my hand.

In other news, I am becoming a skilled moto driver (others may not agree) and have been driving all around Rwanda. It is quite handy having my own mode of transportation. Most the Rwandan’s find it quite the spectacle to see a muzungu (white person) girl driving a moto- especially when I cart large men around behind me.

We will be updating our HFLM blog (www.hopeforlifeministry.blogspot.com) soon, so check it out as well. I am yet to take pictures, but will soon do so and share them on my blog. Until next time...

p.s. We have a tally of who kills the most mosquitoes. My roommate Laila was starting to catch up with me, but tonight alone I killed 6.

The Garlic Press

In the last four days, I estimate that I have eaten as much garlic as a garlic farmer produces in 3 months. I carry a garlic press around with me, so that I can ingest more and more as I go about my day. All of this horrid garlic bingeing has given me the nickname “Garly”. Now you must be asking, “Why are you eating so much garlic?” Two weeks ago I got really sick and they suspected that I had an amoebic infestation. After taking meds for 5 days I got better, but it came back. So now, I am trying the natural remedy, which seems to be working. 5 more days to go… yuck!


Six students from SPU came to the home today, and helped us paint a few of the rooms. It was perfect timing to have them come, as just last week we found out that the landowner was ticked with how dirty the boys had gotten the walls, and wanted them to be cleaned immediately. Only the boys who have school in the afternoon and are at the home in the morning knew the “Muzungu” (white person) Students were coming. When Megan and I got to the home Chantal was putting the boys to work like an army line, it was rather impressive with how well she got them organized, finished with their chores, and baths, three hours earlier than they usually finish. After the morning group left for school, Daniel shortly arrived at the Home- unusually early. We asked him why he was back a good 10-15 minutes before the rest of the boys and he told us that when he was walking back from school he saw the morning group and they told him that the house was full of muzungus. Still breathing heavily he wheezed, “I was so excited I ran the whole way back!”


While the SPU students were scrubbing away at the grime on the walls to get them clean enough to paint, Muhawe stood among us watching. It took him about 30 minutes to muster up the courage to ask if he could help. After we assured him we would love his help, he eagerly started scrubbing the walls and cleaning the floors. Not only did he really want to be a part of the work the muzungus were doing, he always tries to serve in anyway he can. He is one of the boys that completely blows me away when I think about that only two months ago he was living on the streets. I was looking at pictures Megan had taken of the broken down ruins of buildings where he used to sleep, wearing dirty, baggy ghetto clothes, and a stone cold expression on his face. It is bewildering to know that this is the same boy.


One of the SPU students asked if the boys had families or if they were orphans. As Muhawe went at it scrubbing the floor next to us, I told her his story. Muhawe’s mother wrapped a cloth around her back, in which Muhawe slept soundly. They left their house and while they headed down a dirt road, a few rebels spotted her and came at her. She tried to flee from them and ran into the bush, but they caught her and killed her with a machete. She fell to the ground and died with Muhawe still strapped around her back. Her killers left them both in the bush, thinking Muhawe was as good as dead. But 4 days later, a passerby heard Muhawe’s cried and found him on the ground hours away from death. He was brought back to his elderly father to be raised motherless and in severe poverty. The severity of their poverty forced him to choose between starving or living on the streets. He chose the streets.


I can barely believe or imagine what his life was like before he came to Hope For Life. It is so incredible to know that God has always known each one of them by name, and called each one according to His purposes to a new life.

Good Mornings at Night

~"Good morning sir," a Rwandan man greeted me as I meandered my way through the bus park at night.~

I have been enjoying my time with the boys so incredibly much. Sometimes it feels like they serve me more than I serve them. I had been praying that God would open up an opportunity for me to serve them, and He did. The only time the staff are able to take the boys to play soccer is on Saturdays, which has been a bit of a disappointment for the boys. For the last three weeks I have been taking them to play soccer during the week, and I can see that through it I have developed a closer bond with the boys. It is encouraging to see that even though it is a simple way to serve the boys, it makes a big difference to them.

Before coming to Rwanda, two of the boys, Patrick and Muhawe, were struggling with learning any of the letters in the alphabet and the staff felt like there was nothing left that they could do. Although Muhawe is a complete goofball and a love machine, when I first came Patrick was very reserved and quite, and I couldn’t recall seeing him expressing joy. After working with Patrick for two weeks, we had a breakthrough and he learned the alphabet. Afterwards, I asked him to spell the word, “yego,” and he told me, “Sorry, but I don’t know how do write.” I told him to just try, and he excitedly discovered that he was able to spell it. He then began asking me to have him spell word after word. I could see the joy and confidence in him increasing after each word he wrote down. The next day, the second I entered the door a smiley Patrick eagerly ran up to me and gave me a huge greeting hug. This was the first time he had expressed excitment when I came. I brought a children’s book and told him that I was going to have him read a few words from it. His eyes wandered down in embarrassment as he told me, “I can’t. I don’t know how to read.” So I told him, “I know, but I want you to try.” To his surprise, he discovered that he could sound out the words and read them. Since this, I have seen Patrick regain his confidence and express joy. It has been very heartening to see this change in him. I am still working with Muhawe and praying that he also will have a breakthrough.

While in the Kimironko market buying fruit, Megan and I spotted Claude (the boy who ran away). When he saw us we could see that he was debating whether or not to run away from us. Thankfully his smarter side won the debate and he approached us. This is the first time he has let any of the HFL staff talk with him, which shows some relenting of his heart. We asked him how he was doing. He looked at us with his strung out eyes and told us he wasn’t doing well. That was as much as he would say. He soon beckoned three of his closest street friends (and former HFL boys) to come over. Two of them I had already seen this trip, Pascal and Umugisha, in the unfortunate event of when they visited the home and influenced Claude to leave. The third, Dakundimana, I had not seen since I was in Rwanda 2 years ago. He was one of the original boys we brought to the home, and had ran away and begged to come back one too many times. It made me want to break down and cry and scream in rage all the same time. To know that these boys have been so blinded to give up their opportunity of life so that they can have freedom and drugs breaks my heart and makes me furious. They have been on the streets for years, and this will be their lives. To see precious children on the path of destruction and not be able to do anything about it is hard to come to grips with. All I can do is pray that the Lord moves in each one of these boys hearts. Please join with me in that prayer.

First Week Back in Rwanda

My first eventful experience in Rwanda was the ride home from the airport. Megan and I rode on motorcycles back to her house with all of my luggage, which was about a 20 minute drive. It still is mind boggling to me of how we managed to do it.

I jumped right into things the second I got here. The Hovde Foundation is giving Hope For Life a grant to buy land and build a house, and the representative (Jeff) of the organization was here. We went all over the place having meetings with him and other organizations. Through all the meetings, Hope For Life now officially owns its own land and will have a home built on it by December! We hadn’t told the boys about the grant up until this point, because we didn’t want to get their hopes up if somehow it fell through.

We told the boys that we had a surprise for them and on Thursday we took them on a fieldtrip to the land HFL now owns. It was about a fifteen minute walk to the land from our current house, and when we got there we told them that we now own this land and will be building a home on it because of the Hovde Foundation. The boys were so excited and were screaming and cheering. While we were walking back, a few of the boys were worried that they’d have to change schools because their current school would be too far of a walk and they really like their teachers. Veterne turned around in his wheelchair and rebuked them saying, “Are you crazy!? Don’t you think that if God has provided us land and a house that he will provide a car too?” This gave all of us staff quite a laugh. When we got back to the house the boys shared what they were feeling. They talked about how they had been praying so fervently for the past year that Hope For Life would one day own its own land. The oldest, David, gave his testimony of how he prayed so much that HFL would get its own land and how he has now been encouraged to pray even more because he sees how God answers the small and the big prayers.

I have been so impressed with the boys and how much they have transformed in the last two years. They are such good and well behaved boys it is amazing. Of course boys will be boys, but overall they behave as well as you could expect any boy coming from a good family to act.

I have spent a lot of my time here thus far just hanging out at the home getting to know the boys better. I introduced them to the card game called Dutch Blitz, and they absolutely love it. We have already spent hours playing it. My team always wins :).

Today I had one of the most humbling experiences in my life. Two of the boys, Muhawe and Daniel saw my flip-flops were dirty and scrubbed them until they were squeaky clean. Afterwards they proceeded to talk with Dorothy (one of the caretakers) and she told me, “They love you so much. They are asking me if they can wash your feet”. I didn’t know how to respond. I came here to serve the boys, not the other way around. It was very hard for me to let them do this act of service, but I knew that it was important for me to let them show their love for me. They thus grabbed a bucket and began to thoroughly clean my feet and my legs. They worked on my nasty feet for about 20 minutes, and even rubbed them with lotion when they were finished. The boys continue to astound me with their humility and servants hearts. It is an honor to see the miracle Christ has done in their hearts.

I know you all want to see pictures, but I have been holding off taking pictures my first week here, as I want to get the boys comfortable with me before becoming the paparazzi . So, hopefully I will have some for my next blog.

Update

Sorry I haven't updated my blog in such a long time! SO much has happened since my last one. Megan and I helped Josiane and Chantal start Hope For Life, which is a home for street boys. There are 19 right now, and the ministry is continually growing.

Our main website is www.hopeforlifeministry.org. Also, check out Megan's blog www.megstersblogs.blogspot.com . She is there right now and is very good with blogging!

Rahabu Ministries (Last update from Africa)

Update on me: I came down with malaria on our trip to Uganda. I am doing fine now, but keep me in your prayers that I don't have a relapse.

Megan and I have bought many beads and are going to try and sell them at church. SOOOO if you want to buy the beads, you will need to buy them from me at church on Sunday, August 17th(I believe thats the right date). The money is going to support our ministry with the former prostitute women who have no means at making a living.

Okay, we have so much to do before we leave, please pray a lot for us! We are trying to organize this ministry, help Auntie start a salon, sponsor Veterine (we went to his house yesterday =D), and help 7 street boys. I only have one more day here, so most of the burden is on Megan.

We need to go, but I love you all and see you very soon!

Mom, I can't get into my email again, but don't worry about me not emailing you!

Off to Uganda!

Hello everyone! We are heading off to Uganda in several hours. We will be there Sunday to Wednesday. Pray for our protection, apparently the driving in Uganda is very crazy and dangerous. They have a saying, "Everyday you don't get into an accident, is a miracle."

So much has happened the last few days, but I don't know if I will have enough time to write it before I come home. I might just have to tell you our experiences in person.

The women have been completing necklaces and they look very nice. Megan and I are going to buy all of them that they make before we leave, and then turn around and sell them in the US. It looks like we are going to found an organization working with these women and find sponsors for them in the US to start small businesses. The first person we are going to help is Auntie, to start a salon. I was thinking we could call this new organization Rahabu Ministries. Rahab in the bible was a prostitute who believed in the true God and because of her faith, she was saved. All of the women we are helping are former prostitutes, but have been saved by faith. I feel like this will be a very big responsibility to take on. We are going to become in charge of the whole association of the women that are here and help them manage their businesses and selling the necklaces. We are not sure of every thing that this will entail, and we need a lot of pray about it. An idea we had was that missionaries here could take the necklaces the Rwandan women make and then we would sell them in the US. This would mean we would need to become affiliated with New Life Ministries, and maybe even action, because we would be needing short term missionaries in the area to be taking the beads to the US. Anyway, if anyone has insight, good ideas, or even a better idea for an organization name(I don't know what the women will think of the name), just let me know!

The guidance and protection of God

Megan and I were talking about my Northlake girls today and I miss you guys so much! I wanted to write you a myspace message Nikki, but I forgot, you don't have one. Anyway I will see you all on Tuesday August 12th!

Megan’s dad comes to Rwanda on Monday, and with him, which I am very excited for, also comes CHOCOLATE! Haha. Oh, and it is official, we will leave August 3rd to go to Uganda and visit a little boy the Swansons have been sponsoring. We will return the 6th.

Pastor has stopped coming to English class, which means Megan and I walk to a bus stop 15 minutes away from our house every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday (we used to go with her in a taxi). Most of the buses that pass are full so we have resorted to hitch hiking. The first time, we were waiting and joking about hitch hiking and Megan saw a car with muzungus heading our way, and screamed at me, “HILLIARY PUT YOUR THUMB UP!!!!” And being a very obedient girl I did, although I found it quite funny that she didn’t have the guts to put her own thumb up. Ever since, I have been the one flagging down our ride. It has actually been a pretty cool experience meeting random people and hearing their stories of what they have been doing in Rwanda.

Tuesday was our third time teaching crafts and we taught the women how to make Ugandan beads out of newspaper. Out of all of the things I thought would have been difficult in teaching crafts, I was surprised to find that many of the women didn’t know how to use scissors. It is too bad that we started teaching crafts so late, because we only have four more times before I leave, which isn’t enough time to teach them knitting or other skills.Although we are unsure, I think that all of the women we are working with have AIDS, along with little babies they are trying to care for. One of the girls doesn’t even look to be 18 years old and it breaks my heart thinking of the life she has most likely lived. Orphaned at a young age by the genocide, never having anyone to take care of her, never having enough money to attend school, being forced into prostitution for survival and now her life is being cut short from AIDS. But I know that that’s all we can see, which is such an earthly perspective. All of these women have come to know Christ, and through all of their strife they have come to know a true joy, and it is only the beginning. I was looking at one of the women who is sick from AIDS and I felt very sad because I know she doesn’t have much longer on this earth but I had a vision in my head of Christ embracing her a new creation, whole, and free from suffering.

After crafts was over on Tuesday we went to Mumugi to take back some paint we had bought, as it was the wrong color and took five days to dry, and to visit with Veterine (we learned the spelling of his name). Immediately after getting off the bus we saw Veterine looking the same as we had seen him last, sitting in the dirt wearing hole strung pants, with a dirty cub scout shirt on. We asked him if he wanted to go with us to eat something, and with much difficulty due to the language barrier he told us he couldn’t because he can’t walk. During our conversation a crowd of about 30 people gathered around us. Sometimes I hate my skin so much here. I just want to be able to do something without drawing the attention of everyone around us.

We then left to go buy food and to exchange the paint. The time before, we had gone to the store with Chantal and we didn’t remember where the shop was. We were aimlessly walking around and I was thinking about the Chronicles of Narnia books, and how Aslan always was guiding his children. I prayed that God would guide us as well, and lead us to where He wanted us to go. I felt like he had answered my prayer and shortly afterwards He brought us to the store. We returned the paint and got about half of our money back and asked if they had a different paint. A man named Jully who was temporally working there helped us out and led us to a different store to look for a paint that would work. He is on vacation from work for two weeks traveling from Kampala, Uganda, down to Burundi. He has been working with women, as well, teaching them skills. The store he took us to did not have any paint, so he took us to another one. We found some paint that looked ideal, but it was too expensive so we decided not to buy it. He asked us if the paint was going to our ministry with the women. Upon responding, yes, he said, “I am going to buy it for you.” It was encouraging seeing how thoroughly God answered my prayer.
On the way back we bought food and brought it to eat with Veterine. There were four other kids with Veterine so we felt we should share the food with all of them. Luckily there was a little cove we were able to eat in, so we weren’t bugged by the masses of people. We all sat on a concrete ledge, said the blessing and ate. I really wish we could somehow help these children long term. They are apparently all his brothers and sisters and none of them attend school. It is highly important for the people here to go to school, because since the jobs are so scarce it essential to have a degree.

Apparently Megan and I have gained some weight. In the past two days five people have told us that we are big, and that I am bigger than Megan, haha! Lately, we have been walking several hours everyday, and it sure doesn’t feel like anything but our calves are bigger.

Every time we get off of the bus stop in Mumugi (down town) there is a little boy who sits on the ground in the dirt begging. His name is Vatine and he has no use of his legs. A week or so ago, we were all praying, and his precious face came into my mind and I started praying for him. The next morning pastor told us that she had a dream that she was praying for crippled children and she told one, "Stand up," and the little boy stood up and was healed. A couple days later we went to town to buy supplies for our craft making ministry with the ex-prostitutes, and we saw the little boy again. We gave him some food and then got on the bus. Chantal told us that it breaks her heart seeing children like this, and she can't look at them without crying because she has no money, she has nothing, that she can offer them. She has always had a passion for children and when she was 10 years old she used to bath and feed little kids on the street. She also wants to build an orphanage and to bring in children who are disabled. She said that disabled children are treated very poorly in families because the children are expected to help earn a living, but the disabled children can't help out as much, and are often not fed or taken care of. Lately I have been wondering if indeed it is God's will for me to do mission work and start an orphanage.

While I was talking with her I thought of the story where there were thousands of star fish washed up onto the shore. A man was running and throwing all that he could back in. Another man who was observing this said, "You can't possibly make a difference, there are far too many." The other man responded, "It makes a difference to this one," as he threw another one into the ocean. I realized that I have the capability of changing and helping so many suffering lives, and I can't pass up such a great opportunity.

The last time we saw Vatine we asked him if we could take him somewhere for a meal, but he was too scared. Although, we asked if he would be fine with it next time if his younger brother came, and he said yes. He is such a precious little boy, and I am so excited for the next time we see him. I really want to help children who have been given no opportunity for a future. It is so sad how there are no programs to help children like this in underdeveloped countries. Anyway, my time is up, good bye all! See you soon!

Mom, it won't let me get into my email, I was wondering could you send with Dave $200, because I want to give Auntie money, and I want to buy the crafts the women make and take them back to the church and sell them.

Suffering in Rwanda

So many people here suffer from poverty, but those who suffer the brunt end of the stick in society are the handicapped, disabled, those with deformities, and children. It seems that every time we sit in the bus park waiting for the bus to fill, we hear a “tap tap” on the window and we turn to see a blind man with a shriveled hand asking for money. Or in town, children whose legs are curled under them, wearing scraggly clothing, drag themselves on the ground amidst the crowds of people, and wait for those who have compassion to give them money. But I wonder, where do these children live? What happened to their families? Who takes care of them?

 In Mexico one of the most touching experiences I had there was working with disabled children for 3 months. In Mexico (and it seems the same here) those who are handicapped have no future, they are not educated, and they are thought to have little value. Working with them showed me how God’s heart breaks for these special children, and how precious and valuable they are. At the mission we gave them hope for their future by educating them, washing them, feeding them, and showing them the greatest gift of all, the love of Jesus Christ.  I think it would be so amazing to somehow be able to touch the children’s lives here, although I feel so limited by time.

Pastor’s children are now on school break, so we have three added members to the house. The youngest is Patrick at 14 years, then Pauline at 16 years, and the oldest is Lillian at 17 years. I’m not sure where they will all sleep, since there is only one free room with two beds.  I believe they shall be here for the next two weeks, which will be fun. It is interesting how families interact differently here. They don’t show as much affection within the family, but ironically you always see men walking down the street holding hands, or women as a symbol of close friendship.

Oh, and Pastor calls us her children as well, and others refer to her as our mother. She is so great! It is so sweet, whenever we go to the store she’ll buy us our favorite foods: yogurt and chocolate bars.  And Auntie too is like our Rwandan mother. Auntie has such a servant’s heart and makes all the meals, except for the Thursday meals we make. We are definitely very well taken care of here. 

Random

above is pastor and auntie, below is pastor and her daughter in Butare

Hmm, so Megan and I have been busy lately. We made a new friend named Mireille, who lives in Yamirambo. She is home for vacation from school in Kampala, Uganda, and goes back Monday. Megans dad is probably coming in a few weeks, and we are planning on taking the 8 hour bus ride up to Kampala. Hopefully we will get to see Mireille too. I think it will be very interesting going to Uganda for a few days.

All this week there is a crusade led by Muzungus (white people). We met Mireille in town on Tuesday and on Wednesday to go to the crusade which was fun, and we fulfilled our craving for ice cream! Although, on Tuesday apparently it was just praying and preparation, and we walked around the huge field that it is taking place at seven times praying and singing. It reminded me the of the battle at Jerico, where the Israelites walked around the city 7 times, and the walls of the enemy fell down. No matter, the second night, there were hundreds of people there. We all crowded around the stage singing and dancing to worship songs. When people worship here they dance around with huge smiles on their faces, as if they are having the time of their lives, and other times they raise their arms up with tears streaming down their faces. It always makes me wonder what pains and struggles they have in their lives.

On Tuesday night as we were walking home from the bus stop, we were a bit nervous and while walking at full speed, we passed a young lady on the side of the road crying. We didn't know if we should try and talk to her, because it was dark, but we decided we couldn't just pass her by. It turned out she was stranded here with her 2 month baby, and needed to go home, which is a 4 hour bus ride South. It is interesting how no one stops until they see we do, and then a huge crowd soon gathers.

Megan and I have been traveling alone, and going places by ourselves a lot lately. It is a nice feeling being free in Africa. yesterday as we were walking we ran into one of my Students Josianne, and she had us come over to her house to have lunch and tea. They drink tea here atleast 2 times a day. It is really good, they put milk and tons of sugar in it. =) ~Even better than the tea Tory and I would have, while playing smash brothers.~ We tried to explain what the word pets meant, which was difficult. We said we have dogs sleep in our house and feed them, and she was like "WHAT, don't they eat the little kids?" We told her no, but she wasn't convinced.

Last Saturday was disappointing because we were not able to work with the women in teaching crafts. We usually go to pray at this lady's house but her landowner said that we could not gather there anymore, so we did not have a place to meet with the women. Pastor went to the city to ask for a place to teach the women, and it looks like we will be able to teach them for a month somewhere in the district. I am really excited to teach the crafts, and I am praying that it will work out. I believe 24 women will be attending.

Right now we are at the psychiatric ward we took Andre to a few weeks ago. Megan got the doctors email and we came back to talk with him, and hopefully we will be able to job shadow. He has patients so he let us into his office to wait, and we are on his computer.

Quick note

Hello everyone! I need to be quick because I don't have much time to write.

Yesterday was fun, we went and visited Pastor's daughter in Southern Rwanda, it was a 4 hour bus ride. We got to see a lot of the country, although we only visited her for 30 minutes, which seemed silly because we had to travel a total of 8 hours. On the way home I was excited because I had my first small conversation completely in KinyaRwanda.

Today in English class we talked about why it is hard for the rich and the poor to believe in Jesus. I had 3 students today(some of my students have gotten jobs) and two out of three thought it as way easier to believe when you are rich. The points for why it is hard when you are poor is that you look at your life, and wonder, "How can there be a God if I am suffering so much?" and for being rich we don't feel a need for God, and don't give the credit for our blessings to God, but feel we have earned it. Josianne thought that believing in God is simple when you are rich because all you need to pray for is peace, and your relationship with God. It was interesting how they thought life is so perfect when you have money. "You are not sick, your family is good, you only have to pray and give thanks to God."

Anyway,we are leaving to go to some crusade for Christ, so I must go.

just photos

These pictures are of some of my students.

Thirty-Six

Saturday was rather fun. We played games with the kids who we meet on Saturdays and see at church on Sundays. We first taught them Quack diddly Oso(or something), then Duck Duck Goose, and then Simon Says. Duck Duck Goose, was by far the most fun playing with them. Oh gosh! They were so cute! They ranged from about four to about ten or so, thus the competition was varied. Although, one of the youngest, Ivan, was quite the chump and was not easily caught. Another little girl who is four, when ever she got picked she would tap Ivan’s head “Duck… GOOSE!” He caught her four times consecutively. It was so funny, because she tried tricking us that she was not going to choose him, and would tag him as duck, then go around the circle again and still choose him. She eventually picked the boy before him, which confused everyone, as Ivan still got up and chased her, and the actually goose, slowly stood up with a dazed look. Hence, she was no longer it.

I know, you have been pondering the whole last paragraph why this entry is titled Thirty-Six. Well I wanted to give an example of why Kinyarwanda is so difficult to learn, as every word has so many syllables. In Kinyarwanda “thirty-Six” is “Mirungwitatunagatandato.”  Beatrice was teaching me how to count, and once we reached 31(Mirungwitatunarimwe), I could not contain myself and started cracking up, but low and behold 36 was more ridiculously long! I’m a bit disappointed in myself, as I have not learned much more Kinyarwanda than I knew my first week here.  Sometimes it is so frustrating, like when we saw Andre on the road. I so desperately wanted to ask what was wrong, and tell him about Christ’s love for him, but instead our trip to the hospital was a silent one.

Today we met with the women we are going to teach crafts to. 24 women came, which was a bit intimidating at first, but I am excited. I really hope it goes well, and that there is material here for the things I know to make. It feels like this might just be my niche.  I have discovered something that is definitely not my niche, peeing in a hole. I used the bathroom at Chantal’s, which is the common bathroom facility, it is like an outhouse with a concrete floor and a hole. Anyway, I managed to make quite the mess, pee on my foot, along with all over the floor. What was embarrassing is, is that the second I left the bathroom, pastor went in to use it. Haha, I’m sure she knew it was me, but she never said anything, although Megan is assured she was grossed out.

Some prayer requests… The water here seams to be making my skin itchy and gives me a rash, which is no fun.  Also, that God will give me a servant heart like Christ’s and that my heart will break with a passion for what His breaks for. I find myself wanting to go into my room and have alone time a lot, rather than having fellowship, which I know is okay on a small scale for refreshment, but I think it would be better if I did it less.

Oh, and I am sure Megan will have a wonderful blog post more detailed than mine. Her blog is www.megstersblogs.blogspot.com.

Ps. Holly I have long already ate all the chocolate you gave me, and Tory I am now just relying on the Reese’s for my daily chocolate intake. Megan and I are very much craving American sweets. We hope to find ice cream sometime today. 

Africa

Megan and I found out that Auntie is actually only here because of us. Beatrice asked her to come while we are here to help. She makes all of our meals, except the Thursday dinner we make, and she is a very good cook. I feel like I am going to be fat by the time I get home. We spend like an hour every meal eating, and you know how in the USA we say, “You better eat all your food, because think of the starving kids in Africa,” well they say the same thing here: “We never waste because there are so many people in need.” So, what happens is we dish out how much we want, and then they put more food on our plates, and more and more, and we have to eat it all, because wasting is taboo. Every meal we have bananas, they boil them and they taste a lot like potatoes.  We usually have beans, rice, potatoes, and boiled bananas each meal, talk about carbs! And we eat chicken, beef, horse, and fish. It is hard to swallow down the horse, but better that than be rude.

Anyway! Back to the point, Auntie is really poor and has nothing, so she doesn’t know what she will do when we leave. She will probably have to leave when we do as well. She told us some of her life story, and it is rather sad. Her parents died when she was very young, and she lived with her Uncle in Uganda. But they were really poor so she didn’t get to go to school, and food was scarce. At 14 she got married to an older man who was very abusive. A 21 or so she had 5 kids and had enough of being beaten up everyday and of his alcohol problem, and left him. She tried to take her kids away but he would only let her take the baby. So she left with her baby girl to the Congo, and her husband remarried another woman, who didn’t care for Auntie’s kids. Those 4 kids all died from starvation. Auntie raised her daughter in the Congo, and came here ten years ago. Her daughter is still is the Congo and really misses her. We bought her a calling card so she could call her daughter, which made her very excited.

So Thursday Megan, Angie, and I were walking to the market to get ingredients for dinner, and there was a big lump in the road. At a distance I was hoping that it was not a person, and surely it couldn’t be, people were just walking by as if there was nothing there. But as we got closer we saw a man sprawled on his stomach, his face in the dirt road, with his arms spread in front of him. At first I thought he was dead, but Megan leaned over and started shaking him, and I tried to take his pulse. After shaking him, he regained consciousness and dizzily sat up. Megan gave him her water and he gulped it all down within seconds. People started gathering around at this point and helping. He said that he needed to go to the hospital, so a boy sat him on his bike and pushed him about ½ a mile to a clinic. Once he got there we took him into the clinic, but we had to transfer him to a larger hospital, and we had Angie go home and tell Beatrice where we were going. Megan, Andre (the man), and I got a Taxi and headed off.

At the hospital we met a man named Immanuel, who translated for us. He asked how we knew Andre, and we said we saw him on he road. It was interesting, although that is all the information we gave him, he started telling us the story of the good Samaritan. “Many people saw the man, and walked on by, and didn’t help. But you, people from a land far away, you stopped and helped the man just like the good Samaritan. The Samaritan lifted the man up onto his horse, and helped him.”

Andre turned out to have epilepsy, and we were only able to buy medication for him for 2 months, and after that we have no idea what will happen to him, because he doesn’t have money to go back to the hospital and get more.  We told him where our church is, and hopefully he will come there. Who knows.

It is interesting how no one stopped to help, but I suppose it would be the same in America with a bum lying on the road. For them, maybe it is such an every day thing to see someone in desperate need, and they don’t have the means to help.  No matter, if you remember this story, keep Andre in your prayers. 

OH and a cultural note, the women here do not shave at all but the men shave their arm pits faces, and stomaches. They thought Megan's prickly legs were quite interesting to rub, and they liked playing with my long arm hair. They also can't believe that my hair is real, they think that I bought it at a Salon. Oh, and they also noticed that unlike them, I have toe hair, and need to repaint my toenails. hahah. I have never been observed so closely before. Megan and i decided we would HATE being celebrities. Uh... good bye! (murabeho in Kinyagwanda)

Cooking and life.

So, every Thursday is our day to make dinner. Last Thursday we decided to make Fajitas and beans. They don’t have tortillas here so we thought it would be fun to make some. So we go to the market with Auntie, which was quite the occasion. When I say market don’t picture a tiny market, this is a huge market, where there is barely any room to walk between aisles so there is plenty of pushing and shoving. Auntie speaks a little English, but it was only enough to just get us all confused. For instance, we needed flour and she led us to a bunch of flowers. We finally get home, and when we were starting to cook, Chantal asked, “What kind of flour did you want to buy?” I was like “Wheat flour.” Unfortunately we had bought Kasavah flour, which tastes about as good as body odor smells. They mix the flour with water, and it is their Native bread, which Megan and I strongly dislike. Haha. Anyway, so we walked to the nearest store, which only had corn flour, but I thought it would do the trick. Apparently corn flour doesn’t do the trick and our tortillas crumbled if they were less than an inch thick, so we tossed them.

We had Auntie cook up some rice at the last second and decided we could just make the fajita filling more of a stir-fry. It was a bit bland, so Auntie gave us some tiny orange peppers, which smelled like mandarins, so I decided I would taste it to see if it was even a pepper. To my shock, it was definitely a pepper, an extremely potently dangerously hot one, which burned my lips, mouth, hand, and nose quite badly. Megan found it rather funny, although, I found it painful. So we cut two up and put it in our stir-fry, which was quite a bit too much spice for anyone to handle. We found our dinner disaster quite funny, and our hosts pretended like they liked it. It ended up tasting like a number 6 Thai pepper dish.

As for important stuff, like what I am doing, and if I have malaria; I have been teaching English Monday, Wednesday, and Friday 5 ½ hours each day, and I do not have malaria. My classes are going pretty well. Most of the time it is really fun and once and awhile they have made rather interesting sentences, “I want to beat you, but I don’t have stick.” Or I asked "When did you stop wearing diapers?" And Margarett answered "2 years ago", she meant to say 2 years old, haha, she is 28. What makes it challenging is that some are more advanced than others and want to move faster, but I should go the pace of the slowest student (I have 8 students total). Like, some don’t want me to teach anymore vocabulary or verbs, because “We know how write and read, and know a vocabularly, we just need better pronouncing” but when I hear them speak, I can tell they haven’t mastered any level, for if they knew how to write in past tense, then they would be able to speak in it too. So it is a challenge to appease their wants, but also give teach them with a foundation behind it.

Also, on Tuesdays and Saturdays we help out with kids, and meet with ex prostitutes. I believe next week we will start teaching them how to make crafts that they can sell. This Tuesday Megan and I will be speaking at a youth event, so pray that that goes well! I don’t have much prepared yet, but I want to give my testimony and tie it in with following God, even if He doesn’t answer our prayers how we want. A lot of pastors have made believing in Jesus + faith = Miracles and blessings, and I wonder if those don’t come, what happens to the people’s faith? So I want to encourage people to follow God, even if He isn’t their personal Santa Clause.

OKAY bye! And mom, I don't think I will be tempted to not go home. I really think going to Moody is what I should do here. A lot of people here have very good educations, can speak many languages, graduated from University, but still can not find a job. I deffinitely will need credentials in what ever I do, and it woudl be best to get them at a good encouraging school.

Prosperity and Poverty

On Sunday there were three visitors from Kenya that spoke, it was interesting, although Megan and I disagreed with a lot of what they said. The service went for 5 hours, haha, although I didn’t find myself bored, but I didn’t realize there was a bathroom, which led to one of the worst discomforts I have ever felt. I don’t think I have ever had to go pee so bad in my life. Anyway, back to the point, many pastors in Africa focus on the prosperity doctrine and on miracles, because it draws people into the church. The message that if you have enough faith God will heal you and give you money definitely is appealing, even though it takes people away from the truth.  God is not a vending machine, and our focus shouldn’t be on what God will do for us.

We were relieved when we asked Pastor Beatrice about the service, that she also didn’t agree. God does answer our prayers and He does perform miracles, but if He doesn’t, it doesn’t mean that it was because we didn’t have enough faith. God knows our needs, and sometimes He doesn’t find it necessary for us to give us what we asked for. Our faith can not operate God, but rather it allows him to work in our lives. God did not come down to work for us, nor is He far away having us work for Him, but He is with us, working with us and through us. Pastor told us that a lot of the Rwandan’s hold onto the prosperity doctrine, because they are poor, but even the little they do have, they do not use it.  Faith without works is useless. Believing in God’s blessing but not following His commands is dead. “If you love Me, you will keep My commandments.” –John 14:15

It is amazing how God is the same throughout every culture, and that there is only one truth. Pastor Beatrice was convicted by the Holy Spirit of the same things Megan and I are.

We went into the slums and met with two different women who have became saved and left prostitution. Chantal says that almost every single prostitute has Aids.  Several different women come and help these women with their babies, and encourage them every week. My heart broke knowing that these women are dying, and that their beautiful children will soon be parentless.

Ps. Thank you everyone so much for your donations! Holly, the coloring books, games, songs, and the info you gave has been a big help!

6th day in Rwanda!

When I got to Rwanda I don't think I have ever been so tired in my life! We got here Thursday at 9 in the morning. I think staying up until 9pm that night was the hardest thing I've ever made myself do, after not sleeping for for 2 days. I have been surprised, everyone we have met, when I introduce myself jokes about me being Hillary Clinton. Everyone knows about the elections in America, they know it is between Obama, and MCcain, although even though Obama is from here, a lot think MCcain would be a better president. It is interesting on how well informed they are.

The place we are staying in is really nice. It has running water and electricty most of the time. We live with pastor Beatrice, her mother, Auntie(a woman in her 50's she took in whose family died in the genocide and her husband left her), and Chantal, who is translating for us. My goal is to beable to speak Kinya Rwanda very well by the time I go home. It is hard to know how to respond to people when they say their family was killed in the genocide. It seems everyone I ask if they are married, or have children, either their kids or husband have died.

Today was the first day we started teaching English. Megan is teaching begginer level and I am teaching intermediate. Our classes were for 6 hours, with a half an hour break. We weren't quite prepared for teaching classroom style, let alone for 6 hours, but we put something together last night. We had a good time, although it will be difficult to teach vocabulary, since I don't speak their language well.

On Saturday I think we are going to be teaching jobless people, or women in prostitution crafts and skills. I am excited for that, although I will have to come up with everything that they do. I only know a couple of things I can teach them. If you have any ideas post one here! I am planning on checking my email on Wednesday, and then once a week after that. Hopefully on wednesday I will beable to post pictures.

White people in Rwanda are called Umunzugo, so Megan and I copied Jason's slug bug game, where you see a yellow slug bug and punch the other person person. So who ever sees a umuzungo yells "UMUZUNGO" and punches the other person. I am winning. So far us umuzungos are very rare, we have only seen 4. Almost everyone does a double take, or even triple take, when they see us. Some even walk backwards just to get a better glance at us. One man in the market came up and told the woman they we were with that Megan and I were really beautiful. He asked if he could marry one of us, and that there were two of us, so just taking one wouldn't hurt. Haha.

Isaac- No I have not gotten malaria yet. I have only seen a couple mosquitoes, so I am not worried, although the lack of Mosquitoes hasn't stopped Megan from constantly putting bug spray on, and spraying all of her clothes.


Okay, I will write something better Wednesday!

Rwanda!

Hello everyone! I hope that you continue to check out my blog as I write about my journeys and experiences in Rwanda June 10th to August 12th. Until then…

Life Will Never Be The Same

2 years ago...

My Aunt Carmen was crying at my father's memorial, because, "Life will never be the same again for them." Then, I didn't know how true that was; it can't ever go back to how it was. Oh and how I miss it.

My dad was always the most fun babysitter, which wasn't a usual occurrence for him. He enjoyed taking us for the “babysitting” shopping. The shopping list usually consisted of 5 different flavors of ice-cream, TV dinners, and Trix cereal, which were very rare delicacies in the Anderson home.

Hilliary at 5 and Rachel at 7 begged, “Dad can we make up our own recipes!?” And of course, he said yes. So Hilliary and Rachel would unsupervised make incredible new creations, which Skip (their dad) had to taste test. Rachel was usually declared the winner; actually, I don’t recall that Hilliary ever won. Although, it was a close call once with Hilliary’s Flintstone vitamin cake, but in the end Rachel’s honey muffins won.

There were also very perilous occasions when he babysat, which usually occurred while he attempted to cook. One disastrous occasion happened when he tried to make macaroni. Hilliary and Rachel were happily forced again to dine on TV dinners. Oh, and instant potatoes, he couldn’t quite manage that either. Cooking just wasn’t his trade in life. Once Rachel was 8 she was able to prepare their meals, and TV dinners, unfortunately, were no longer a part of Skip’s babysitting.

It is now 2 years later, to the day. My family is forever changed. Thankfully we children have gotten closer through all of this, but some things can’t be as sweet. I now have a step father and a step sister, who hopefully we can build some kind of relationship with. Although, it has divided our family and home is no longer home. The comfort of having a home, a place you are always welcome and loved was stripped away. It is a harsh reality of the consequence of Adam and Eve’s sin.

Back Once Again

Well, I have now been home again for a month and a half.
So that little cutie patootie is Celeste. I worked with her a majoriy of my time there this second trip. She is as stubborn as you can get at 4, and started coming to the day home, a type of school for special needs children, right when I arrived at the mission. She is deaf and came knowing absolutely no sign language, which we both had in common.

The day home was started because the people with special needs in Mexico are often ngelected, and they are not allowed to attend school, so therefore never gain independence. Some people from the mission were going through the town and heard crying inside a shed. They found that a little girl who was crippled had been locked inside in the festering heat, because her parents were at work. Every day she was locked in the shed until they got home. Because of this, they decided to start the day home, which gives these children a place to go, and a chance for a future.

Zoolander's Punishment...

Click on the above image for the "easy read" edition.

Click on the above image for the "easy read" edition.

Click on the above image for the "easy read" edition.

Click on the images below for the "easy read" edition.

(the real) Week 6

All the kids in the Cuna are sick again. I wonder all the time what I am getting myself into. I am sick again. It seems every time the kids get sick, I get sick. I think I was close to dieing yesterday. I was so hot I became delusional, and when I finally cooled down a lot I still had a 102 degree temperature. But yeah, that’s life I guess. Maybe I should stay away from the sweets, from the cookies (OoOoOh the cookies!).

My social life… I have a roommate named Alissa, and a wanna be roommate Heather. Heather and I are about the same height and weight. Alissa brought a scale with her from home and so we are having a “who can weigh more contest” (the contest is only between heather and I). We are also having a “who is stronger contest”, which is between all of us. Heather and I the other night at 11 at night(keep in mind I had a full cuna shift starting at 7 in the morning the next day), got the keys to the gym here at the orphanage and worked out in preparation for our arm wrestling tournament scheduled next Saturday. None of us could beat each other in arm wresting when we tried before, so this is how the working out came about. Our workout session was an intense 5 minutes, then we got bored and decided to use the keys we had been given to get into other places, like the music room. That was fun. Regressing to my trailer, both Heather and I (Alissa had been asleep quite awhile by that time) at 2:30, was exhilarating. Although it was not Heather’s intentions to come over, I bribed her with hot chocolate, and our night then lasted 2 more hours of talking.

School… so school starts next Monday. I will be teaching 4 art classes, 1, 2, 3, and 5 grades, and four PE classes 1, 2, 4, and 5 grades. I have some ideas of crafts for the kids to make, but if you guys have any cool ideas of easy to make crafts for the kids, you should post a blog response. Most of the kids at the orphanage already know my name, well, the name I introduce myself as, Hilliary Duff. I was thinking of telling the class that’s what my name is. Haha. Hmm and PE… That will be difficult, since most of the kids have already seen my attempt at soccer. You know when I played back home, I felt that I was pretty good, ya know for never have playing before, but here, I realize I stink beyond belief. The only thing I have on the kids is I am not afraid of knocking them over, or getting injured myself. Some of the kids are pretty big whimps I might add. In one game a kid(probably about 12) planted a full on shin kick, on my shin, and for the next ten minutes he was on the ground holding his foot, while I continued to humiliate myself with my soccer skills.

Umm and that’s it I guess.

Week 6 Frustration and Snickers

Two years ago I went to summer camp. We went to go cliff jumping, and I remember it took me like 20 minutes to jump from the 12 foot cliff. I didn’t even think it was that fun. When I came out I decided that I would go up and look from the 25 foot cliff. I wasn’t even up there for 15 seconds and the next thing I knew I was running and jumping off the cliff (I didn’t know you were suppose to keep your arms to your sides, or that you can’t breath in while you are jumping).

This has been my week. I don’t know remember what gave me the idea, but I do remember I had no intentions of staying longer. I walked into the office a week from today, and asked about teaching an art class in the school, and all of a sudden I was going to stay until Christmas and teach an art class in the school. Although it was so easy to get the green light, this has been a very, very frustrating last few days.

Don’t you wonder when you are doing what you thought might have been what God wanted you to do, and it just doesn’t seem to work out, and so many problematic things occur, that maybe it isn’t really God’s will for you? Or on the other hand, is it Satan trying to get you to get down and not do what God wants?

So school started Monday, and the administrator still was too busy to talk to me. Although I did find out Monday that the classes I would be teaching wouldn’t start until next Monday. Things still aren’t set in stone, other than that I will be teaching. I have no idea how much, what days, what grades, or even if it will just be art. It is hard not knowing, and very hard not speaking much Spanish.

The snickers. So my roommate and I made Snicker cookies. We got about 60 mini Snickers, melted them in a pan with milk peanut butter and oatmeal and then froze them. We ate them all that day. So for some reason I just could not stop thinking about the Snicker cookies, so the next day I went and got 60 more Snickers and made the cookies again. I ate pretty much all of them by myself. I still can’t stop thinking about them, and it has been two days without them, although we decided to try making Milkyway/3 Musketeers cookies tomorrow. I have gained 15 pounds in the last 2 weeks. Haha. Although most of it was just gaining back what I lost in the 2 and a half weeks of being sick.

Back to the school (although my mind is still on Snicker cookies), everyone has basically been like, “What are you getting yourself into, the kids are crazy.” I have heard that from so many different people, although it hasn’t discouraged me to do this. The kids apparently do not behave well at all, and are very difficult. This is partly do to the fact that they all have had some kind of tragic thing happen to them, from their parent’s dying, to their mother deserting them and throwing them in a garbage can. I need to come up with my own curriculum, for grades 1st -6th , (although another loophole has occurred, another lady might be teaching the two older grades, which would stink cause that’s what I wanted to teach the most by far) and somehow I will teach them through the language barrier. The hardest thing is when they are disrespectful I will not know what they will be saying, and how they should be punished, along with how to tell them how I am punishing them.

Just pray for me. I still am uncertain if this is God’s will. I pray that if it is, that he will bless me in it, and give me the strength to go through with it, along with working long hours in the Cuna. Which was horrible last night doing the night shift because it is just creepy at night, and the power went out for an hour…and the babies were screaming, I was scared, and couldn’t see anything. But yeah, I have had a few weird creepy things happen in there.

Week 4

This week is going alright; I haven’t thrown up since Tuesday, which is good. In these four days I have worked 50 hours, although tomorrow I have a day off. It is a lot of work. We are really super short on staff, so that has been hard, and I am now one of the main Cuna workers. Last night, Sunday, the Cuna got a new baby, who is under a month old. So I had the night shift, which was really difficult because there is also a 3 month old, and they need to be fed throughout the night. I didn’t get any sleep. I also got little sleep the night before because I went to bed late and had to also do the morning shift yesterday. Tonight I am also doing the night shift. It is really difficult. It is hard to have to deal with a baby that cries about every 5 minutes when you are so tired, and then with another that cries every 3 hours. So this is definitely stretching my patience.

The new baby doesn’t have a name, but we call him Abraham. His mother had him at a migrant camp – a very dirty and poor migrant camp, and he got sick right away. She gave him to he Cuna to take care of when he was 11 days old because the camp was too dirty, and they were too poor to take care of him. Hopefully, when he is older, she will take him back. He is such a tiny baby, about the size of a new born. It is so scary holding him; I feel like I will break him, or hurt him. It is scary doing the night shift because I don’t really know what I am doing. No one ever taught me what to do, so I hope what I think I should do is the best.

Oh yes and it was Roy’s first birthday party this week.

Prayer Requests:
Even though it is hard work here, I really want to make a difference and to help out. I am not sure if God is calling me to be here longer or not. I could definitely use some prayer that God would reveal that to me. But I have been considering staying longer. I think it would be fun to start an art class at the school and teach that. I think I would also still be working in the Cuna, which would be hard work doing both, but if I do stay longer, that is what I want to do. So I think then I would stay until Christmas if I do that. In some ways I feel like God is calling me home, but I don’t know for what, so I dunno – just pray that God could open up some doors for me in what he wants me to do. I really want to go to Uganda next summer, and I feel that is something God is calling me to do, but I could also use prayer about that too. Thank you guys! I miss you all sooo much!

Week 3

Wow, I am half way done. Nothing absolutely amazing has happened so far, but I am surely, and slowly changing. Working in the Cuna is getting better, although today was a really poopie day. The oldest, Mayra calls me Ary. I have been laying it down hard to potty train them. Mayra is pretty much potty trained now, and Lorena is getting there. Leo, for some reason, refuses to go in the potty.

It is amazing to see God’s grace in these children. All of them are here because they need to be. When Lalo, one of the adopted kids was born, his mother was going to throw him into the ocean, but some ladies from the mission found him and took him here. He was here his whole life. It is just crazy how close he was to dying.

Also, Lorena, the cutest girl alive, lived in a really poor camp and her parents didn’t take care of her. She would walk around naked, and eat garbage. Some people called DIF (kind of a Mexican protective service) and she was taken here. This was a little over a month ago. When she first came she was so malnourished. She wouldn't let people touch her, hated men, extremely skinny with a huge pot belly, and had parasites. It is amazing to see how she has changed just in the three weeks I have been here. She has learned what it is to be loved. It is the most precious thing when she runs up and gives you a hug, giggles and kisses you. We don’t know how old she is but she is around the age of 2.

Although, Lorena has had to learn to fend for herself. She was on her own and taking care of herself when she was 1. This can sometimes be observed in the Cuna. I turned around to hear Mayra screaming bloody murder, and I look at her arm, which had deep indents from Lorena’s teeth in it. Her first powwow and a Cuna time out from me.

I have only played soccer here once. I am not sure if the kids liked me being on their team, or not. They asked me a few times if I knew how to play soccer, while I was playing with them, not sure if it was a hint. Although I did have to show off in front of my 5-10 year old new friends, and took some of them out. Haha, I totally was just ya know, running with the ball, and then next thing I know one of the youngest kids is on the ground crying… I scored though. I wonder if the older kids will let me play with them. They look pretty good, but they might be surprised by crazy Americans, who knows.

Its has been so much fun getting to know people. I have just started to become friends with a lot of the Mexican staff, and some of the older orphans. There is a pretty big division here, and it is awesome to cross it, and cross over into the Mexican culture a bit.

Projection...

This week… hmmm this week… I basically didn’t do anything productive this week…is one way of putting it. Haha, well I guess I worked on Tuesday, and for 30 minutes on Wednesday. Starting on Monday I was having bad stomach aches, and by Wednesday I got the full blown sickness. I don’t know if I have ever felt so sick before. My stomach, back, and head hurt excruciatingly, along with projectile vomiting. I don’t think there is much worse than being sick in Mexico, with no mom, no good friends, no one to take care of you, no soup, no crackers, no ginger ale, no sprite, nothing. The worse thing was that most the time I was too sick to sleep. On Thursday evening I decided to hobble over to the clinic, they gave me some stuff called suero, talk about nasty, and I was to put it in water and drink it to rehydrate myself. One good thing was that in the clinic I saw some friends, and after that I had my first helping hands. They got me some sprite and crackers, and visited me pretty often. On Friday my friend Sean bought me three liters worth of Gatorade, which was really nice(I couldn’t make myself drink the suero which is electrolyte filled, Gatorade might help right?). Oh yes, and Gatorade is at least twice the price down here than in the states.

Wednesday was the first day that I felt homesick, and oh I was so homesick. Thursday was even worse and my mom was thinking of flying down and getting me. I lost my desire to be down here, and felt that I hadn’t made a difference, and I wasn’t going to. Things weren’t what I thought they were going to be. I expected to be really challenged, and to quickly grow in my faith, but I feel relatively unchanged. Now that I am feeling better I know that if I let God use me, then I will change, and so will the things around me.

I am starting to feel excited to go back and work in the Cuna, which is kinda of strange considering a couple of days ago that is definitely not what I wanted to be doing. On Friday they started bug bombing the Cuna so the Cuna workers have to take a baby home until Tuesday.

It is now Monday. I threw up again today, which was really discouraging. I woke up this morning and felt like I had to, although I didn’t believe it, so I threw up first all over the floor, but the next few heaves made it in the toilet. Nothing better than cleaning up your own vomit eh? Although I don’t feel too sick, which is nice. I feel really content even though I am sick, and I want to stay the full 6 weeks, although my mom is wanting me to come home. I know that I can not do much on my own, but through God I can do anything. He will give me the strength I need, to do what I need to do.

Oh yeah, and all the kids here call me Hillary Duff.

RV

I live in a trailer park...this is my RV.

Hello...
Well this has been my first week here in Baja Mexico. Things have been different than I expected, both good and bad. I have now worked in the Cuna (a nursery of children 2 and under) for four days. The first day there were 9 children, but two of them have been adopted. Now there is (oldest to youngest) Mayra, Lalo, Leo, Lorena, Roy, Dana, and Moises. The oldest being almost 3 and the youngest being 6 months. There are three shifts in the Cuna, morning: 6:30am-1pm, afternoon: 12:30pm-7:45pm, and night: 7:45pm-7am.

My first day of working was somewhat miserable. Being that it was my first day of ever changing a diaper it was a bit traumatic. Although after four days of working, I feel like a diaper expert. I use to think that changing a diaper just meant taking it off, and putting on a new one. But in reality each kids takes like 3 duces a day, which is now with the 7 kids a total of 21 poopie diapers to change, on top of the other 30 pee stricken diapers. All of these kids are sick, so their poop tends to be the consistency of a milkshake, but don’t let the thought of a chocolate milkshake pacify or diminish the picture. In closure of this paragraph, I have learned that a poopie diaper also means many wet wipes are in dire need.

Working in the Cuna is better now, it is manageable. I have now worked the afternoon and morning shifts, and the morning shift is a bit calmer. I have no set schedule, and I won’t ever get a weekend off. The ratio of days off is 7-8 days of work, to 2 days off. But on top of the Cuna, I will also be working the Tiendita 3 days a week, which is a shop open an hour a day.

Now don’t think that working in the Cuna is only changing diapers. These children have no parents, or do but have been taken away by DIF, which is like Mexico’s child protective services; which means that we have to do everything. We cook, clean, do laundry, and feed them, which takes a lot of patience with the babies. We bathe them, change them, put them to bed, punish them, play with them, give them medicine, and our biggest goal is to potty train them. Once they are potty trained they leave the Cuna and go to live in a house of about 10 kids, up to the age of 17 or 18.

Today went well, except for one part. One of the kids when she takes a duce while in her Cuna (crib), likes to pull it out and wipe it off onto everything, which ends up getting all over her. That happened today during nap time. That was nice.

I don’t mean to gross everyone out who read this, well maybe I do. No matter, the point of it all is that this is really hard work. It is easy to forget why I came down here, and be a bad sport. Although I didn’t come here for myself, and if I did that was dumb, I came here to serve God and to be a help to those who are in need. If I look past myself, and poopie diapers, there are these children, who have been neglected by their parents and just need love. It is sad because most people working there are like me, they have only come for a while to help out, and will be out of the children’s lives when they grow attached.

Other than work, it has been good down here. It was an easy adjustment coming down here and meeting new people. I feel very comfortable in my trailer park - yes I can now say I have lived in a trailer. Everyone has been very nice and welcoming. Well, see you all in September… maybe. Most of the people have bets that I will end up staying longer. We’ll see.

  

  

Sun set at Lake Wenatchee

  

Sun set at Lake Wenatchee a bit later

  

I like long grass!

  

My adventure in my pasture

 
I went on a stroll in my yard, it was nice. 

Barn hinge