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Thursday, April 26, 2018
April in Southeast Asia
Sunday, April 1, 2018
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Friday, August 18, 2017
Camping trip somewhere deep in the Romanian mountains
I have just spent a week in the mountains
of Romania camping with 17 children.
There were 11 girls in our room and 7 boys in the other room. Each room had one toilet, one shower, and two
sinks. Hot water was available for two
hours in the morning and three hours at night.
The water was heated by burning logs.
The invitation to eat each meal was made over the loudspeakers by playing
First Call. This is the song played by a
bugle at horse races to call the horses to the starting line. The food served there was EXACTLY the same as
the food served here in the care home.
Breakfast was salami, bread, tomatoes, cheese, tea, and Nutella. Lunch was soup with bread, followed by rice
or boiled potatoes and a cookie snack. Depending on the day, dinner was one of
the following: Sarmales (stuffed cabbage rolls), sauerkraut
with sausage, corn mush, schnitzel, or boiled potatoes. Pickles and bread were always on the table.
There is a river that flows next
to the camp. These Romanian children
simply stripped down to their underwear and jumped in and nobody thought twice
about it. Some Romanian children were
taking sticks and prices of string and making bows and fishing poles out of
them. These were young kids, maybe six
or seven years old. The best part was
that their creations were functional and they had no help from their parents
while they were making them. I was quite
impressed with their workmanship.
A couple of times, swept-wing
military planes flew overhead and I began to wonder if there was something
going on outside of our little corner of the world. There wasn’t any internet signal available
during the entire week so I was very out of touch with the rest of the world. And then I began to wonder if Romania even
had an air force…they do, as well as an army and a navy. I’m always a little uneasy when I am in
Eastern Europe when I see the military in action.
During the week, the children
were kept busy with crafts, Bible study, riding zip lines, playing in the
river, learning new songs, playing new games, playing on swings, and climbing
on an actual rock wall. We finished the
week with a nine foot tall bonfire. Some
of the children were singing and playing guitars, while others were watching
the fire. Some of our group slipped away
to watch the night sky which was crystal clear and filled with stars. We even saw several shooting stars. The best part for me was being used as a
pillow by several children who were eagerly searching for shooting stars. It was incredibly peaceful just laying there
on the ground contemplating and enjoying God’s magnificent creation.
It was a fantastic week filled
with children being children (fighting one moment and laughing the next), bug
bites, scraped knees, stickiness, cold coffee, ice-cold rivers, and new
friendships. It was a great experience
for me. It was a privilege for these
children to be able to escape to the mountains and forget everyday life for a
week and I have been blessed to have been a part of their summer.
Friday, June 23, 2017
Romania Assignment
Romania is filled with stunningly beautiful scenery full of majestic mountains and blue lakes. Unfortunately, the part where I am staying is not one of those places. Here the landscape consists of mostly flat farmland filled with corn, wheat, and sunflower crops with a backdrop of a major highway. We are in a little village fairly close to the Hungarian border.
The compound where I am staying is huge! On the site there are 7 two-story bunkhouses with 10 beds in each bunk house, a two-story church building, a gymnasium which is still being built, a massive two-story woodshed / shop building, the owner's tiny home, and a rather large, two-story home for at-risk mothers. The at-risk mother's home contains a kitchen and a dining room that serves the entire property. Between the church and the mother's home is a delightful play yard for the children. There is also a soccer pitch and an old airplane landing strip on the rear of the property. All that has been created on this property simply amazes me.
The dozens of residents (mothers and children) who reside here are survivors of a living hell on Earth. They are all broken, hurting individuals at different stages of recovery. There is a sullen, angry teenage girl who has been involved in the sex trade, probably from age 6 onwards. There are bubbly babies who have known no other life than life within a group home because their mothers have abandoned them here. There are 8 year-olds who are struggling to learn that they will be fed regularly and that they don't have to eat all they can in fear of not having another meal. Some children share freely; others refuse to give up whatever treasure they may be holding. There is a beautiful 6 year-old who runs to get hugs every chance she can and she holds on tight and long before she is ready to be released. I don't know her background, but I hold her for as long as she wants me to. All of the children are survivors of some kind of abuse, neglect, or abandonment. Not surprisingly, there is also a lot of mental illness interspersed among the residents.
As always, there is one child that has absolutely stolen my heart. This time it is a chubby little fellow who resembles a young Jason Bateman. He is one of the food driven children. He cries at the drop of a hat but he also smiles so very, very mischievously when he gets caught doing something wrong.
My main job here is to watch over three rambunctious little girls. They look and act very much like the girls in the Minions movies. It makes my job very challenging and I am not ashamed to admit that the tiny, little 3 year-old is kicking my butt daily. Also, eyeglasses are no match in the hands of a 3 year-old. Did I mention that the kids are really, really fast? This will be the most difficult assignment that I have had so far, but I am blessed to be a part of the amazing work which is being accomplished here.
The compound where I am staying is huge! On the site there are 7 two-story bunkhouses with 10 beds in each bunk house, a two-story church building, a gymnasium which is still being built, a massive two-story woodshed / shop building, the owner's tiny home, and a rather large, two-story home for at-risk mothers. The at-risk mother's home contains a kitchen and a dining room that serves the entire property. Between the church and the mother's home is a delightful play yard for the children. There is also a soccer pitch and an old airplane landing strip on the rear of the property. All that has been created on this property simply amazes me.
The dozens of residents (mothers and children) who reside here are survivors of a living hell on Earth. They are all broken, hurting individuals at different stages of recovery. There is a sullen, angry teenage girl who has been involved in the sex trade, probably from age 6 onwards. There are bubbly babies who have known no other life than life within a group home because their mothers have abandoned them here. There are 8 year-olds who are struggling to learn that they will be fed regularly and that they don't have to eat all they can in fear of not having another meal. Some children share freely; others refuse to give up whatever treasure they may be holding. There is a beautiful 6 year-old who runs to get hugs every chance she can and she holds on tight and long before she is ready to be released. I don't know her background, but I hold her for as long as she wants me to. All of the children are survivors of some kind of abuse, neglect, or abandonment. Not surprisingly, there is also a lot of mental illness interspersed among the residents.
As always, there is one child that has absolutely stolen my heart. This time it is a chubby little fellow who resembles a young Jason Bateman. He is one of the food driven children. He cries at the drop of a hat but he also smiles so very, very mischievously when he gets caught doing something wrong.
My main job here is to watch over three rambunctious little girls. They look and act very much like the girls in the Minions movies. It makes my job very challenging and I am not ashamed to admit that the tiny, little 3 year-old is kicking my butt daily. Also, eyeglasses are no match in the hands of a 3 year-old. Did I mention that the kids are really, really fast? This will be the most difficult assignment that I have had so far, but I am blessed to be a part of the amazing work which is being accomplished here.
Saturday, February 4, 2017
Forgiveness
Wow. What a month,
eh? Obama out, Trump in, anger
everywhere, and yet another school shooting. Sadly, you probably didn’t hear about the school
shooting because it occurred on Inauguration Day. There are a couple reasons why I am bringing
up the school shooting. First, it
happened at a high school which I attended in a very small community in rural
Ohio. The second reason centers on the
actions of the victim of the shooting.
He is a young man named Logan Cole.
Logan took two 12 gauge shotgun blasts at point blank range. While Logan was laying face down on the floor,
he was talking to the shooter asking and begging him to not cause any further
injury to anyone at the school or to himself. Logan convinced the shooter not to hurt anyone
else.
Logan has approximately 70-80 pellets lodged in his body;
one of them is in the right side of his heart.
Two are in his spinal canal.
There are multiple fractures and breaks in his backbone and his right
lung is damaged form the pellets. The
risk of infection is of great concern. As Logan was coming out of sedation in the ICU,
one of the first things he did was to ask his parents to pray for the shooter. Continually, from the first interview until
now, the family of Logan Cole has called for prayers, not only for Logan, but
also for the family of the shooter. The
donation funds to support Logan Cole will be divided between a college fund for
Logan, the high school, and to support the family of the shooter. Throughout this horrific event, the Cole
family has chosen to be an example of how Christians are supposed to live. Their forgiveness and concern for others have
demonstrated their unshakable faith and have provided a model of true
Christianity in action.
I’ve spent some time in reflection of how I would probably
react if this situation had happened in my family. It’s a bit embarrassing to admit, but I don’t
think forgiveness would be the first option I would exercise. Would I have immediate compassion for the
shooter’s family? Yes, definitely. But would I have immediate forgiveness for
the shooter? In all honesty? Probably not. It would probably take me a while to decide to
forgive the shooter. As I have discovered
over the past four years, it sure is easier to forgive the little things in
life than it is to forgive the big ones. Some days immediate forgiveness comes easily and other days, I completely mess it up. Every day, I’m working on making my actions reflect how Christians are supposed to act. Because in the end, it is our actions that matter; it's our actions that the world sees. The Cole family, through their actions, have shown the world true Christianity in action. I want to aspire to follow their example of faith in action.
“Everything is easier said than done. Wanting something is easy. Saying something is easy. The challenge and the reward are in the
doing.” Dr. Steve Maraboli
Monday, October 3, 2016
Birthday visit and a buffet
This week I was able to experience two events, Albanian style. The first of these was a visit to an Albanian
home to celebrate a birthday. It is
considered rude if you don’t stop by to visit someone on their birthday. Phone calls and Facebook posts do not count
in this culture; you are expected to visit in person. The boys and I walked down into the village, bearing
a gift for the six year old girl. When
we arrived, we were invited into the house (sans shoes) and led to the sitting
area. Because I was the oldest, I was
given a certain chair to sit in. The
boys had to sit on the couch. We were
then given homemade plum juice to drink, as well as some berries in sugar water
to eat. While the birthday girl sat on a
chair nearby, the adults engaged in small talk.
The hostess then brought out slices of cake for the boys and me to eat. To my horror, the birthday girl had to sit
there and watch us eat her cake. Her
birthday gift sat right in front of her on the coffee table, untouched. We were expected to eat the birthday cake;
but not all of it. We had to leave a
small bit uneaten on the plate. I’m not
sure of the reasoning behind this. Not
every guest who visits receives cake; the family was honoring us by allowing us
to eat some of their cake. After we had
finished, we went outside where our hosts loaded up a bag full of fruit from
their trees and grapevines for us to take home to enjoy. We then left and walked back home. Only after we were gone, was the little girl allowed
to open her gift. As we were walking
home, the boys explained to me that there are a lot of established protocols
concerning celebrations and visitations.
Hopefully, we didn’t do anything to cause insult while we were there.
Having toured extensively throughout Europe and Nepal for
the past two years, I understand about cultural differences, especially when it
comes to personal space and standing in lines.
There is no concept of personal space in Albania. Period.
When someone greets you, it is not a handshake or simple greeting that
comes your way. Nope. You get warmly embraced and air-kissed on each side
of your face and their hands linger on your arms as they make sure that you are
“shum mir” (very well). For introverts
like me, it is quite shocking to have to carry on a conversation with someone
else’s face just mere inches from yours.
Also, the concept of standing in lines is quite simply not understood in
Albania. It doesn’t matter where you
are, if you want something, you go directly to the person that you want to talk
to and you interrupt whatever they are doing----even if they are talking with
or conducting a money transaction with someone else. I cannot recount how many times I have been
checking out groceries in the store and someone comes up and breaks in while the
cashier is ringing my items up on the cash register. There are no lines; you simply push your way
towards the front until you get what you need.
Both of these things—no personal space and the incomprehension of lines---played
out during the other event I was able to experience this week, which was a
buffet held at my church.
The Church held a lunch buffet to celebrate the opening of
their new church building. As I made my
way to the end of the buffet table, everyone was grabbing at the plates at the
same time. Continually, men were wedging
themselves between me and the person in front of me. Mind you, I know how to close the gap and I
was touching more of the person in front of me than I am comfortable admitting
to touching. I really have no idea how
these men were shoving themselves between us.
The man who was behind me was pushing me even further into the person in
front of me—which I didn’t think was even possible at first. Finally when two teenage boys tried to “cut
in”, the man behind me lost his patience and intervened by pushing the
teenagers’ heads and telling them to wait.
After doing this, the man behind me helpfully pushed me down the buffet
line. He was trying to be helpful and I
am grateful for his assistance in stopping the flow of men who were jamming themselves
into the line. I must say that this was
the most physical experience I have ever had while attempting to get my
lunch. I think I shall beg off the next
time I am invited to an Albanian buffet.
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| The birthday girl! |
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| The walk home from the village. |
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| This is their courtyard. It is one of the prettiest places I've seen in Albania. |
Tuesday, September 20, 2016
Lightning, Oregano, and Sheep!
My first two weeks here have been quite interesting. School has begun again and the boys are still
enthusiastic about the new school year.
I’m hoping this feeling lasts more than a few weeks. This year we are adding computer classes and
German and Hebrew language class to the class schedule. It looks like I’ll be adding German and
Hebrew to the list of languages that I know a “little bit of”. Soon I will be able to order food and barely
converse in seven different languages.
Last Thursday, the house took a direct hit from lightning
again. Yes, again. This makes four times in the past two years
that I have been in a house that has been struck by lightning. We were working on the computer upstairs in
the Papafingo (the upper level of the house where the schoolroom is located)
and lightning struck the house directly above our heads. When it hit, I jumped back and yelled and
Nick started speaking in tongues! When
we saw debris on the balcony, we realized that the lightning had struck the
chimney. The strike blew debris down the stovepipe and into my wood stove. Our chimney is now slightly twisted and askew
as well as missing a few bits and pieces.
Six feet away….that’s the new record for how close I’ve been to
lightning. I’m not anxious to break that
record any time soon (or ever). Fun fact: I am currently writing this while a vigorous
thunderstorm is passing overhead now. We’ve lost electricity but it will soon
be back on again. This is the new
normal.
It is the harvest season for oregano in Albania. All of the villagers have been in the mountains
harvesting their cash crop. It really is
a case of “all hands on deck”. This
harvest will provide income for the entire year. The rest of their crops are for subsistence
living, meeting their daily food needs.
With the oregano harvest, they will have money to pay for electricity
all year long. After helping with our comparatively
paltry harvest, I have a new-found respect for those who rely on this for their
annual income. It’s a lot of work to
harvest oregano. Once it is dry, the
oregano has to be cleaned of everything that isn’t---well, that isn’t oregano. I’ve spent the past week removing grass, seed
pods, bird poop, spurs, feathers, prickly bits, stems, snails, rocks, weeds,
and leaves. It all has to be done by
hand. The mountain of oregano is slowly
diminishing. I figure I only have two
days left before I am finished with the cleansing phase. While we only had a small amount to harvest,
the villagers have huge amounts to harvest and process. My hat is off to them, lots of respect for
all the hard work that they do
.
On Sunday, we traveled into Tirana to attend a church there
where Nick had been invited to preach.
It takes about an hour and a half to two hours to get to Tirana from our
house. The first half hour of the trip
involves traveling over muddy, potholed, gravel goat paths disguised as “roads”. We were nearing the end of this
leg of our journey when we happened upon a shepherd and her small flock of
sheep. She had around twenty sheep and most
of them were hesitantly veering off to the left while one sheep stood defiantly
in the middle of the road. Another
sheep, seemingly intent on committing suicide, ran full speed towards the
bumper of our van. It disappeared from
my view and then I heard the thump.
Luckily the sheep wasn’t hurt.
The shepherd told us that she would have been grateful if we had killed
that sheep. I guess there’s always that
one sheep (or person) who is always causing trouble for the herd.
I’ll leave you with
that. I am off to find my flashlight again.
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