teen wolfing

We went for an adventure yesterday. Julie, one of the other teachers, picked Lydia and me up to go for a drive and see what we could see. We checked out a craft/tourism place to see what was up around there, got a lunch of french fries, and then drove up a mountain. The road was paved for a little ways, but it soon became dirt and rocks. This made for a bumpy ride, but it was all good. At one point, Julie turned to me and said, "If you are feeling adventurous, you should climb up on top of the car." There was a roof rack and a grate to hold onto, so it was relatively safe. Even so, I could hear my mother telling me how dangerous and inadvisable this move was, but I did it anyway. (Sorry, mom.)

This is me on top of the car. I put on a fur coat and windbreaker to stave off the cold breeze.

I am jamming to Surfin' USA, my favorite song.

I was on top of the car for about two hours as we drove up and then back down this mountain. I felt like a celebrity or as if Mardi Gras were happening all over again. Every person we passed called out and waved. Some kids even chased the car! The landscape was absolutely gorgeous. The beauty of this country is breathtaking. Everything is so green. Every one of the most vibrant shades of green. The trees would be so dense for a little while and then they would give way to these open expanses where you could see all the surrounding mountains and wide valleys full of fields and houses. 

There is a cow there. 

Julie and Lydia.

Lydia and I being explorers.

It's absurdly beautiful.

A sweet baby lamb we saw. Every time I watch Seven Brides for Seven Brothers, I want to be in that scene when they sing the song about Spring, and I could be holding this lamb.

And I wrote this which means that I survived my Teen Wolfing adventure. It was such a wonderful day!

our turkey and dancing

The first thing that I must tell you about is the turkey that we recently procured. We bought it from a lady who lives right near the schoolhouse. The plan is to fatten it up for the next month which will end at Thanksgiving. When we bought it, Caleb told us not to name it because then we will get too attached, but I already had a name picked out before we went to get it.... Is that bad? I mean, who doesn't want a pet turkey named Little Richard? And given my love of chickens and other fowl, there was never any doubt that I would become too attached to this turkey.

 Maisy checking out Little Richard.

Its nose hanging thing is really disturbing but cool because it retracts.

He keeps getting angry, puffing up and hissing.

He even chases people around from time to time, but he hasn't actually pecked anyone.

This afternoon was a whole other adventure in and of itself. I piled into the car with a host of people who far outnumbered the capacity of the car, and we all headed to Shyira, the city where my cousins lived for eight years before Ruhengeri. We went to join in the celebration of a man who had just defended his thesis and graduated from university. You didn't know that a human being could fly without any external machinery, but get in the very back of a land cruiser and drive down the road and that is exactly what will happen to you. I was suspended in mid-air a great number of times before crashing back down to Earth. But man, those moments in the air were exactly like flying.

Me on Shyira Hill 

(photo credit to cousin Louise!)

As we arrived at the family's home, I was handed a massive plate of food and sat down to hear people go around the room and give speeches of gratitude to the family, celebration for Peter (the person graduating), and excitement for his future. At one point all the chairs and tables were cleared out of the middle of the room and everyone stood up. Someone next to me turned and asked, "Do you dance well?" A cold icy fear gripped my heart. Yet again, I would be made to display my entire lack of rhythm. I tried desperately to follow Louise as she deftly moved from the back of the room to the doorway, but someone else said, "Stay! Don't hide by the door!" So, I joined in the clapping as the first few joyous, brave souls began to dance.

As the voices join, the clapping and rhythm takes on a life of its own. Everyone claps his or her own beat, and yet they all weave together to create something else entirely. The feet join the sound as everyone starts to dance. I was pulled from the relative safety of my corner of the room and made to dance in the middle of the circle of guests with Peter. I made small, contained steps and concentrated very hard on making sure that I didn't step on anyone or fall over and that I kept up with the beat. It was pretty awesome! The dancing, the song, the joy of it all. 

Me absolutely tearing up the dance floor. 

I know you can't tell, but I am smiling really huge and laughing so hard!

(photo taken by Louise)

By the time I got home from Bible Study tonight, my family was watching A New Hope on VHS. Yes, I am living the dream.

pottery

We went on a field trip today rather than having a normal morning of classes. We went to see a pottery cooperative where people can learn the technical skills. Some of the crafts they produced included anything pottery related, bracelets, bags, and tie dyed cloth. The majority of their products were made from recycled materials, so that is awesome too. We watched the artists turn sand into clay with water and a great deal of elbow grease (or really foot grease because they mixed it up by stepping on it). They brought pots up from a base with great speed and using only their hands. There were no wheels and hardly any tools. We watched one man take large chunks of clay that he smooths into great wads and then add them to the base by slowly twisting and attaching the wad to the already formed base. It looked like he was painting the clay out thin air.

The artist making the pot right in front of us was talking with Moses, Lydia and I in Kinurwanda. Moses leaned over and said, "He just asked if you were an adult then why are you so small?" Great observation, sir. You have hit the million dollar question. I ask myself that every day.

gratitude.

One of the things I've been able to already take part in since getting here is the children's Sunday School. My cousin Louise helps to lead the Sunday School with a man in the church. They are an unbelievable pair. Apollo blows my mind with how caring and patient he is in working with the kids. He translates everything, sings songs with them (I will always be able to hear a chorus of children singing and clapping to "Jehovah you are so good!"), and gently refocuses some of their more exuberant energies. The best part of this Sunday School is that we are using the Jesus Storybook Bible, which is exactly what we used at camp this summer and at CHAT last summer. Basically, the Jesus Storybook Bible is the jam and everyone should read it both to their children and for themselves. But that isn't the point. It's so wonderful to think about these children, literally around the world from the kids in Ontario or Richmond, who see these pictures and hear these stories and how they are bound up together in the knowledge and love of Christ.

My role in Sunday School thus far has been observation and crayon collection. My detail orientation kicks in as I attempt to fit every crayon back into the massive box in a neat and orderly fashion. I tend to stand on the side or in the back and try to redirect some of the wandering minds. I have yet to actually teach a lesson, but I hope that will be in my future as long as it doesn't interfere with the system they have already going.

Today, we read and acted out the story of David and Goliath.

I keep my eyes always on the Lord.

With Him at my right hand, I will not be shaken.

Psalm 16:8

At the end of the lesson, I was performing my usual duties of crayon collection and a little boy tapped my hand. I leaned down close to him to listen: "Thank you for teaching us." I didn't think I had really done anything, and I definitely hadn't done the actual teaching that day, but this little guy saw that I was there, and it meant something to him. He said thank you. It was so simple, just a little sentence, but his words meant something. Not only was this a blessed moment that was sweet beyond words, but it reminded me to be grateful. I love working with kids because they tend to remember things we older people tend to forget.

Today, I am thankful. (I hope I will be tomorrow as well, but let's just take this one day at a time.) Today, I am thankful that God took the time to remind me that I matter through the words of a child. I am thankful that I get to be present for Sunday School every week. I am thankful that kids are so friggin awesome that only God could ever have imagined up something as great as kids.

an afternoon in Ruhengeri

Moses studying in the hammock and Lydia reading on the porch of the schoolhouse.

This is an active volcano that happens to be in the DRC. You can see it smoking!

I thought this lily was beautiful. There are so many here. Makes me want to watch the movie Lillies of the Field. (Sidney Poitier is the coolest.)

Today was a rather eventful day. I channeled my Italian sister and headed to our local Italian restaurant with the other teachers and some visitors. These visitors are two ladies from Texas who have been here for the past two weeks working with some Rwandans on English reading skills. They have been so wonderful. Whenever Ms. Diane greets me, she says, "How are you doing, sweet girl?" It is such a kind a familiar greeting that feels like home in words. Lunch consisted of homemade noodles and homemade sausage involved, and it was delightful. You may be wondering why we have an Italian restaurant. It just so happens, that there is an Italian man here and he started it. One can even get gelato there, so write that down as the best thing on a hot day.

My massive plate of pasta and bolonagese sause covered in a top layer of cheese was followed by a jaunt through the market with the visitors so that they could pick up some last minute pieces of cloth to take home. I wish I had had my camera so that I could show you what the rows and rows of bright fabrics stacked four or five rows high. The colors are the most vibrant you have ever seen. The fabrics themselves often have many geometric shapes all fitting into one another. Some fabrics have everyday items in their patterns, like the ones with high heels, toothpaste tubes, or windmills. I know those don't sound like they could be beautiful, but between the colors and the ways that the items seem to swim across the fabric make them pure works of art. It seems like the stalls of fabric last for miles, but I'm sure that they just all start to blur together and you lose yourself in the middle.

I was walking to the schoolhouse this afternoon, and this group of Rwandan kids saw me from about a block off. One of the little boys flung his arms open wide and started to run straight at me. I thought he was going to ask me for something, but I knelt down all the same and threw my arms wide open hoping for the best. This little boy ran straight into my arms and gave me a massive hug. And once you give one hug, you have to give a lot more, so they all ran up to me in turn to get a hug. It was great.

The rest of the afternoon/evening was spent back at the schoolhouse where we had a fall festival with the kids and families. One of the moms made caramel and there were cut up apples. There were fall cookies to decorate as well as pigs in a blanket, deviled eggs, samosas, and wassel (don't worry, I'm eating just fine here). I played some games with the kids. One of my favorites is Giants, Wizards, Elves, which is like life-size Rock, Paper, Scissors as a team game. It's amazing. Then there was a fire and some marshmallow roasting, and now we are home watching The Sword and the Stone before bed. Really, the perfect way to end the day.

If you have any questions, please send them to me or through my parents to me because it may help me have something more to write about.

I felt the rains down in Africa

I hear wild goats cry out in the night.
(A little Toto reference for you there. Classic.)

But really, I did feel the rain, and here is that story.

Taking a page out of my dear father's book, I went for a run to get a better sense of my surroundings and learn more of my neighborhood's ins and outs. I went out with my running buddy, my cousin, Lydia. Lyd took me to this old airstrip (still channeling my father). It is definitely the flattest stretch of earth I've seen since getting here, but I wouldn't say that it is level because of the vast number of ditches and potholes that one must avoid. We ran the full length of it and were accompanied on this run by a Rwandan man who ran up, shook my hand and said Bonjour!, and then ran the rest of the way with us. It was great.

We managed to make it back to the house right as it started to rain. As I've said before, the rain moves in out of nowhere, but, as I have not said before, it also gathers speed the longer it rains. It starts as a light rain and, in a matter of seconds, it starts to all out pour like the floodgates of the sky have been thrown open. So, Lyd and I made it back into the yard just as the rain was really starting to pick up. From inside, we could see that it even started to hail (because when you think Africa, your mind immediately goes to hail). Lydia looked at me with this huge grin and said, "SJ, do you want to go play in the rain?" To which I responded, "Yes!" and we immediately ran outside. I was drenched in seconds and frozen to my core. We ran through the puddles and saw who could stand under the gutter run-off the longest (channeling Gene Kelley at this point). Lyd won, of course.

Playing in the rain makes me think of all the songs that reference God and the rain.

Hallelujah, grace like rain.
Mercy it falls like a sweet spring rain.
Your love soaks me so completely, til I'm drenched in your great love.

(That last one is one we sing at camp with the kids written by Bonzai, one of the coolest people on the planet.)

The point is, if the downpour of rain can soak me instantly, how quickly can God cover me in his love, mercy, grace? Pretty neat, huh?