Moldovian Lifestyle

just for you... a taste of what life looks like in cornesti, moldova! our humble abode... a beautiful cold war cabin, tin roof and all our front yard, which also doubles as a vegetable garden the ever popular outhouse in a lovely shade of green where we get in a good dose of our squat workouts  the furnace/microwave/heater... it's very multipurpose! the food supply.  straight from the vine, concord grapes... yes, please! daily work... picking and cleaning fresh veggies.  yumm! our on-the-side job... sheep herding.  for real.  :) most importantly, the cutie-patooties that we get to work with everyday!

Lost in Romania

I now completely understand just how frustrating travel must be for people on the Amazing Race.  Being in Ireland for an entire month, I almost forgot the amount of confusion that comes with being in a foreign, non English speaking country, with no translator, no transportation, and no local currency.  Welcome to the adventure called the World Race.

So, let me set this up for you.  We just recently had a short debrief in Romania where our whole squad met together for something called "team changes."  Upon being introduced to our new teams we were given the opportunity to have a night on the town to "make a memory."  So, on our first night as a new team, we take to the streets.  

Problem number one.  Seeing as though everyone on my team just arrived to Bucharest late the night before, we have no local currency.  No big deal, you might think... just find an ATM.  False.  This is not America, therefore ATMs do not exist at every turn.  Nor do some people even know what an ATM is.  Oh, and despite the fact that we think that everyone should know at least some English.. they don't.

Problem number two.  No local currency means no local transportation.  For some reason bus drivers aren't too keen on just taking you in with no money in hopes that you will pay them back later.  Bummer, right?  

Problem number three.  It's Sunday and our living quarters are located in what you might call the outskirts of town.  What does that mean?  That means even the quaint corner store at the end of the road, where the people live above their business... even that is closed.  Awesome.

So, in true World Race style...we take off walking.  You see, there is this slight misconception that we as world racers begin to believe... we kind of think that if we want to get somewhere badly enough, we can always just walk.  Does that work in some cases?  Absolutely.  In this one?  Absolutely not.

A good hour later, after passing every field and industrial business along the way... we finally see a sign for Bucharest.  Meaning, we still aren't anywhere close.  So, instead we settle for a Hotel/Restaurant mix called the Hornet which, according to the sign is just another mile down the road.  One mile... no big deal.

Once we reach the Hornet Hotel, we quickly realize there is no way we would be able to afford a meal in this place, seeing as our budget is limited to a mere $4/day.  Despite that fact, we decide to investigate the situation anyway.  Much to our surprise, the receptionist at the front desk does speak English, broken English, but English none the less.  After finding out there is no ATM anywhere nearby, we are miles away from the city, and no, she cannot exchange money for us... we are left with only one option.  Call a cab.

15 minutes later, we are stepping into two separate cabs.  Unlike many foreign countries, they do still obey the rules on the amount of people allowed to be in one vehicle at any given time.  The wonderful lady at the hotel then nicely explained to each cab driver where it was we needed to be taken.  My cab driver, who gave off the vibe that he pretty much hated life, grumbled, argued, and then consented to taking us where we needed to go.  All was well.  Until we pulled out of the parking lot, and our driver is already headed in a different direction than the other cab.  Perfect.

After 35 minutes, and 30 lei later (about $10... which is a fortune by WR standards), our driver stops the car and says "finish."  We took that as our cue to get out.  Found an ATM, and paid the not so nice cabbie.  After doing a quick scan and not seeing the other half of our team anywhere in sight, in my very best sign language I ask "where is the other car?"  The only reply I got was... "I bring you to ATM, I bring you to ATM.  Finish."  

We are now somewhere in downtown Bucharest with only half a team and the only thing that looks familiar in site is the McDonalds.  So, what to do?  We walk up and down the street a couple of times.  We get some money from the ATM.  Check out a few stores.  Then we decide, oh well.. if we are lost, we might as well be lost on a full stomach, Mickey D's here we come.

We sit down to enjoy our nice, greasy hamburgers and it is in that moment that we realize we don't have a clue what the place we are staying is called or the town in which it is located.  The three of us apparently have full confidence in our team leader, who is also lost somewhere in Bucharest, to always be able to get us back home.  We then decide, why ruin a good meal worrying?  So, we bless the food, pray for some divine intervention, and chow down.

Just as we finish eating, in walks another one of the teams from our squad.  It never fails that you can somehow find other Americans if you just go to McDonalds.  Not to mention that one of the girls on this team actually speaks Romanian.  Coincidence?  I think not.  God's provision? Absolutely.  So, we make plans to meet back up with their team later in order to make our way back home via the cheap local transportation.  Despite the fact that we still have 3 team members lost somewhere in the city, all is well once again.

As we finish eating and step outside to spend some time exploring... guess who we run into?  Our other three team members... who, I might add, had spent the last hour or so walking the square area around the McDonalds looking for us.  Whoops.  Apparently, they had very different priorities than we did!  Needless, to say... we were united once again and reminded that even in crazy circumstances, God proves himself faithful.  

Thanks to our wonderful adventure, my new team (consisting of James Woodley, Kara Graham, Alicia Tarjeft, Stacey Compton, Robby Smith, and myself) is rightly named...

Team Prodigal.

If this is day one, I can only imagine what it's going to look life from here!

The Love of a Father

Just the other night, I met a very interesting man named Amon.   He's an older Irish gentleman, who, according to him, was apparently quite the stud back in his day.  Unfortunately, Amon suffered from a stroke about two years back and is still gaining back alot of his sharpness including his speech and small motor movements in his hands.  As I spend some time with Amon, I learn that he has lived a tough life.  Worked hard for anything he had, scrapped by in order to feed the children, lost a child, and because of depression afterwards his wife left him as well.  Amon wears a lot of sadness on his face, but there is one thing that lights him up.... his son Edward.

Amon loves his son Edward so much that just in talking about him his whole face smiles.  He describes Edwards as being "wonderful, special, and especially handsome."  This father did not see a flaw in his son, not one.  He delighted in his son's presence so much that he would rub his hands together and dance like a little child at just the simple thought of it.   Amon's eyes even filled with tears when he recalled the story of his young son looking to him and saying "Papa, I love momma, but I love you the best."  Amon undoubtedly loved his son, and saw him through wonderfully clouded goggles as only a father can... because Edward was his, and he was proud.

In hearing this father's humble adoration for his son, I couldn't help but think of how much our Papa, our heavenly Daddy, loves us.  God sees us as Amon sees Edward! He points down at us and says "you see that one, she's special! that one, she is wonderful! that one, she brings me such joy!"  Like Amon, our Papa gets giddy and lights up at the thought of our presence. Our Papa, just like Amon, he can't stop talking about us; about our achievements, about our beauty, about our perfection.  He, like Amon, soaks up all our words and is waiting for the day when we say "Papa, I love alot of things... but I love you the best!" He sees us through those wonderful eyes of a Father... because we are his, and he too is overwhelmingly proud!

Constraints

I don't think we realize how many constraints we put on ourselves, or have put on us by others just in our everyday life. I'm beginning to believe that God's not really much of a fan of constraints... 

Just the other day, I realized a huge constraint in my life... time. 

If you don't know me well, I am the kind of person that always knows what time it is. In fact, I don't even take my watch off when I go to bed. Not to mention that I have a watch tan line that could compete with just about anyone! I am the kind of person that is always on time. To make it even worse, not only do I always know what time it is... I also tend to "time myself" when doing random tasks. I love having a deadline, I love competing to beat the clock, I love finishing just in time. A little weird, I know. 

So, let me set the stage for you. 

 On the world race, we are not allowed to do much of anything alone. We travel in groups (of 74, at times). We live in groups. We eat in groups. We fellowship in groups. There is always someone that you have to organize your time with in order to get things done. What's even better is that most likely the people you are living with probably will be nothing like you... meaning, just because you are the type of person that likes to be on time, or that likes things to be done quickly and efficiently does not mean that the person next to you feels the same. See where I am going with this?

While the fact that I somewhat ridiculously time oriented is no surprise to me, the fact that I often times let this idea of time consume my day is definitely a new realization. Why is it that little things like being late can sometimes totally ruin my attitude? Why is it that little things like a change in schedule can just throw me off? Why is it that I put such constraints on my life because of time? 

So, one day this week during worship I am really struggling with this idea. I am struggling with the fact that so much of my life is oriented around time. I am struggling with the idea that I probably pass up opportunities every single day because I simply don't have time. 

 Then, in a very gentle whisper I heard my Papa say "Look down at your wrist. See that watch? It's time to take it off." 

I look down at my arm and think, Seriously? My watch? I mean, it's just a watch. Besides, I have to be on time this week... we have a schedule, we have specific meeting times. I need that watch." 

He laughs at me and says "Dear child, you're right, it is just a watch, but it's time to take it off. It's time for you to work under my timing... not your own."

"Okay, so maybe you have a point, God. But, seriously... I will take it off later, I will take it off after service, maybe when we get back to the campsite, yeah maybe then... then I will have some place safe to put it."

"Child... just trust me. Right now, this very moment, let go of that constraint...it's time." (Don't you just love how God uses your own words against you?) 

So, in dramatic fashion, of course... with a huge sigh of defeat, I reach down to my left wrist... slowly unbuckle my watch, and drop it to the floor... 

My watch tan still there. And, I still constantly pull up my left sleeve out of habit. But, for now the watch is packed safely away. For now, I am living under God's timing and I challenge you to do the same thing. Spend the week without having any concept of time. It will drive you crazy, it will stress you out, but it will also give you such freedom. Freedom to work under God's timing... because you never know what opportunity he might place in front of you that you think you just don't have time for.

Perspective

About a week ago we got the opportunity to spend some time in the downtown area of Port-au-Prince.  Despite that we have been here for almost a month, we have not seen much outside of the house and the church so spending a day in the city was a pretty big deal.  The sights that I saw peering through the back bars of the box truck were sights of poverty, and of devastation, and of a third world country stricken by confusion and chaos.  

As I sat and took all of this in, my mind wondered as to how I could pray for this country.   What was God's vision for this place?  What was his plan for Haiti?  Having an American perspective on life, my mind first went to success.  I wanted to pray for Haiti to become successful, to become self-sufficient.  I wanted Haiti to have nice streets, to have clean water, to have unbroken buildings, and to have luxuries.  

It was in that moment that I realized that I was praying for Haiti to become like America.  

Just as that thought struck me, I was reminded of the fact that success is not defined by material things.  Success is not defined by how large, or how clean, or how modern a place is, not by Godly standards anyway.  It was in the moment that God reminded me that I look at things with such clouded vision.  That my prayer for this place should not be that it grows into a huge metropolis, but that it grows into a country that bleeds for the Lord.  What was even more heart wrenching is that God reminded me that this third world country, stricken heavily by devastation, is more likely to turn wholly towards him that my very own America.

God's vision for Haiti is not ever for it to become like the United States.  God's vision for Haiti is that is becomes a country that lives, breathes, and serves a living father despite the hurt and devastation that surrounds it.  God's vision is for this country to rise above the rubble, to be a country that overcomes, to be a country that is alive again.  God's vision for Haiti is nothing like my vision for Haiti... but I am beginning to realize that is probably a very good thing!

Haitian School Teacher

One of the greatest things about the world race is that you can never have any kind of expectations... 

 I am officially a Haitian School Teacher. Definitely didn't see that one coming! :) 

So, how did this happen you may ask? Well.. let me just tell you. Initially my team was to spend this month of ministry living in an orphanage and working on a restoration home that is to open sometime during the month of September. However, because of some issues with finding the right location for this home, my team has spent the past two weeks being challenged to use our own gifts and abilities to help out in different ways around the orphanage. For instance, my teammate Emily, who has a degree in occupational therapy, has been spending the working with special needs kids at the orphanage. Another teammate of mine, Alicia, has a degree is social work and has been helping with assessment and paperwork as new kids come to the Home. And I, well... I volunteered to help out at the school, of course! 

Initially when I volunteered to do this, I figured that I could do some one on one tutoring, right? Maybe help some kids that were a little behind, or just give the teacher some assistance in the classroom. I was also very much willing to organize supplies, books, just whatever needed to be done to be helpful. 

So, I arrive to school Monday morning with the kids, introduce myself to the two teachers, and explain that I have a background in education and want to be able to just help out for the next couple of weeks in whatever way they need me to. The teacher looks at me and says "well, you can teach the class, if you'd like." My first thought went straight to "what in the world have I gotten myself into?" I tried to politely explain that I didn't think I was qualified to teach a variety of subjects to Haitian students, many of which only speak a little English. Again, they insisted that I teach the class... that being educated in America, I was much more qualified than they were to be teaching these kids, and they as teachers, could possibly learn some new things. Again, "what have I gotten myself into?" I finally ask if maybe I could just observe for the first day, seeing as though I had absolutely nothing prepared to teach that day, nor did I have any idea at what level these kids were at, or what they were learning! They agreed, I could observe the first day and start teaching the next. 

As I got back to the house that afternoon, thoughts swarmed my head. What can I do to get myself out of this? Sure I have a degree in education, sure I can help teach some English, but I am not in any way qualified to teach these kids all different subjects in a language they don't all understand. Surely I can find something else to do as my ministry this month, right? I'll spend some extra time in the nursery, maybe help out the nannies downstairs. Then God chimed in... "you, my child, are going back to that school tomorrow, you have a ministry there, don't ignore that." Alright, fine, I'll go.

 Later that night I spent some time talking with Mrs. Chris (our ministry contact) about the school situation and how I could best be helpful there. She informed me that there were actually about 4 kids in one of the classrooms that, despite the fact that they are 9 & 10 years old, they have never been in school before. There is no such thing as free education in Haiti, and therefore while the kids are required to go to school, many don't simply because of the fact that they can't afford to do so. These kids needed to learn the basics, they needed to be taken back down to preschool level, they needed to start from scratch... now, that I could do!

So, day 2, I pack my busted up plastic grocery bag with books, crayons, scissors, and prizes and I make the hike to school. It's on that day that I officially became a Haitian school teacher. I now have my own classroom, I have four beautiful students ages 9-11(none of which speak a bit of English), and we spend 3 hours every morning learning our ABC's, numbers, colors, and animals. We sing, we color, we cut, we pray... but most of all, we learn. They spend time learning the basics about English while I spend time learning the basics of obeying God's call, of embracing a situation even when it seems overwhelming, of letting go of expectations. 

So that, my friends... is how I became a Haitian school teacher, for this month anyway. Pretty sure this one is a must for the resume. :)

Resilience

I cannot even begin to describe how much joy there is here at this home in Haiti.  Each and everyday I am greeted by the sounds of young voices singing, praising, and just living life as happy children.  These children here are beautiful, they are loving, and they are respectful beyond belief.  

At first glance, you would never believe that one of the 13 year old girls here was raised under voodoo influence and was forced to drink human blood during rituals from the time she was 7.  

At first glance, you would never believe that one of the 11 year old girls here was recently raped while living in a tent community and was subjected to humiliation as all the people around her refused to take care of her. 

 At first glance, you would never believe that one of the 9 year old girls here was raised as a child slave and wears scars that outwardly show years of abuse.  She ran away not solely because of the abuse but because she desired so badly to live somewhere where she would be allowed to go to school.

At first glance, you would never believe that one of the beautiful babies here was found laying in a dumpster with rats eating at her skin all while simply trying to survive.

I am continually amazed at the resilience of children... at their ability to forgive and to adapt.  These children are able to handle things in life that would devastate most adults and not only make it through, but also be completely joyful in the process.

Each child here has a story, one of devastation but also one of victory.  Each of these beautiful children were handed circumstances that were not in their favor, and yet they survived, they overcame, and they remain joyful, loving, and thankful in spite of what they have been through.  There is no doubt in my mind that we could all learn a thing or two from these wonderful kiddos!