when it rains, it POURS!!!

Just incase you missed the Facebook pictures, I wanted to share the link to some pictures.

Two nights ago, we got a HORRIBLE rain storm. The storm lasted for 5 hours, on and of it was down pouring rain. The house that Nunu and I live in has a metal roof. It was so loud that we couldn't hear each other yelling from a foot away.

The metal roof is made if like 3 - 4 foot sections. At some point in each joint there was a leak! We keep our clothes in plastic buckets, I had to dump those out to catch water and also to store our electronics!!

The rain was leaking on our bed, so I spooned a bucket most of the night. And watched as the rain even came in between our window joints. It was crazy.

Our house is below a tree, so even if it's not raining things are falling from the tree. So when it wasn't pouring, I would drift off to what sounds similar to a Tap Dancer in the room next door and when the drips would get really soft... I felt like I was listening to someone with no rhythm learning how to snap.

We have a fairly decent house... I'm not sure it was constructed property, but given that our neighbors are in houses made of sticks and stones... and the lucky ones have a layer of cement over that. Also on the angled side of their houses, you can usually see the gaps in the wall. Our cement block house with a roof that attaches even though it leaks and it's loud it's much more secure than our neighbors.

I lay in bed thinking of our neighbors. Of our neighborhood and our community. We are positioned on a hill, but what about those at the bottom of the hill? What about my Itty-Bitty Kiddos? What about them all?

I woke to find this just down our street. The day before the ground was level. I'm about 5'4" tall. 5 hours did this.

I didn't see any real damage. It just looked like a few fences were falling... all things considered I was happy. Pemba is the kind of town where word spreads fast. And I've asked Nunu if he has heard anything regarding the rains and he hasn't. So for that we are so Thankful!

It is a reminder that we are in the rainy season. For obvious reasons it's dangerous but also because with rain comes pools of water, which are breading ground for mosquitos that carry Malaria. So we ask that you join us in praying for safety for our boys and our community. 

For more pictures click on this link: Facebook Pictures

Itty-Bitty Kiddos

Generally speaking little kids have always been afraid of me… it’s not so much me but they aren’t really sure what to do with the color of my skin. A few cry. Some run. Some ignore my attempts to smile or say hello.

I figure the best way to get over this is for them to see me more and maybe then my skin won’t be so unusual. So I’ve been hanging out in front of our house at the well. Many afternoons this area becomes a playground for the little children. I don’t know if they all wake up from their naps and find each other here or just what, but at 3pm the 3 and under crowd show up.

The kids a little older are also very curious but not as shy. The first few times they see me they like to yell “Coon-ya” (meaning white person). I try and respond “No coonya- Amanda.” It has been so fun to see the progression but now when I walk on our street there is a chorus of little kids yelling “Manda, Manda, Manda.” I try to always give them either thumbs up or a wave. Deep in my heart it makes me warm… I’m not longer a white person, I’m Manda.

A few days ago, I walked out of the house and heard “Manda!” I looked and there was a little girl giving me a thumbs up. It’s so funny, they see me in my window and they yell my name. They do it so much, I’ve started saying “Yeah?” So now somedays they say “Manda, yeah!” to me. It’s just so funny.

So I’ve got this crew I’ve deem the Itty-Bitty Kiddos… I wrote a few weeks back about a little guy Eddie.

Well let me tell you this guy is playing hard to get. I try to say hi to him and he acts as though I don’t exist. Then I turn to walk away and I hear “Manda” I look and Eddie is giving me a big smile and a thumbs up.

Recently I’ve noticed two more little kids and they aren’t to sure of me either. So I decide I need to get down on their level.

I sit in the dirt. But now what?

I gather a few leaves and stone and make a smiley face in the ground. They all inch in to see what I’m doing… and just like that it happens.

Little Nick.

Eddie is just a few feet from me and we are playing peek-a-boo. I decide to try to take this a step further and I tickle a belly and make silly noises. Before I know it T-shirts are raised and bellies are being proudly displayed to receive a tickle!

Eddie... "If I can't see her, she can't see me!?"

Wanna tickle this belly?

I wish I could see the faces of the kids on each side running away!

I stay seated and let the itty-bitties come to me as they are comfortable and before I know it Eddie is running circles around me as I reach out to tickle him, he giggles as only a child can do.

Eddie running in circles around me,
trying to avoid my tickles!

As always with kids you can’t really plan this stuff, so I’m just shocked as our games go on. Next one of them realizes that my feet are out. They feel safe and curious and before I know it they are touching my feet. First just darting in for a quick touch and then it turns into two games at once. The boys play tag, while Nicky tries taking my shoes off. Eddie is so funny everyone in a while he stops hitting my feet just long enough to give me a thumbs up.

Just checking in... it's okay if we play with your feet, right?

And then with no warning he leans over and puts a hand on each of my legs. I think I might burst with excitement! I just want to capture the last 30 minutes and put them in a jar. I can’t believe this is happening with a child who a year ago would cry when he saw me! A few weeks ago, he wouldn’t come with in 5 feet of me.

Out of nowhere... WOMP he is on my legs!

Today he sits, playing with my feet as if we do this everyday.

The best thing however, happened when all the kids were running around playing. I’m not even sure what happened, but one second Eddie was running and turning and the next second he was sitting in my lap. He only sat there for about 10 seconds but it was enough time for me to sneak in a little hug.

So I feel like I have a crew of kids. They are to young to do much of what we do at the Center, so for now they are my Itty-Bitty Kiddos. And I’ve been working to gain their trust. It feels so good to see progress!

Nick's twin, Nicky.

They have no idea how much I love them and think of them. I hope that over time they grow to learn this. I hope they learn not only of my love but that they are able to see the love of Christ through me. I pray that they do.

** I'm trying to be better about changing names of the kids, that way if one day I have personal information I don't have to switch names. Nick & Nicky are not their names, but the twins names are off by one letter, so I found it fitting. 

Here's What I Know...

Two years ago today, I first arrived in Mozambique. During that first trip, I instantly was drawn in by one of the boys. It probably started because he spoke the best English, but also because he is such a hard worker and so very determined.

One of our first conversations he asked me if I could help him with his English and teach him how to use the computer. He also translated for me most nights during Family Time.

When I first met Traduzir, he was 16. It so amazing to be able to look back and see, not only how Traduzir has grown, but it’s also fun to have history with him. It’s also amazing to look at this 18-year-old young man and see just how God is working in his life and to see that he is more determined than the day I met him.

As close as I am with Traduzir, I still find myself questioning what is appropriate. Not in the ways I’m used to working with teens in the States. But wondering what questions are too personal. What parts of his life are off limits? What questions are hurtful? What is appropriate along those lines?

The one thing I know about each of these children, is that their past is what brought them to us. Be it the death of a parent (or 2), the absence of a parent (or 2), the lack of resources, or some other fact of life that I personally can’t even begin to imagine. While I know some of the stories, I never know just how painful they are.

Since meeting Traduzir, I’ve been very curious to know where he comes from. What is his family like? What and who shaped him into this determined and smart young man? In short, I’ve always wanted to go to Traduzir’s house. But I never felt right asking him this.

Even last fall, when Julie took visitors to his house, it still didn’t feel right. I think part of me wanted him to invite me.

In early January I woke up one morning and one of the staff told me that Traduzir had left early in the morning, because his father died. I didn’t actually know his father was alive, so it was surprising to me.

When I saw him a few days later, he didn’t have the same spunk I was used to but I wasn’t sure how to talk to him about his father’s passing.

Another week or so passed and we were talking outside and Traduzir started talking to me about death. He told me that the day before his friend’s son died. I think he said someone else had died too, but he was also talking about how an old president died and that is why there was no school (like Presidents Day or something similar), so I was a little confused.

But it was one of the more revealing conversations Traduzir has had with me. It wasn’t even that long, I was more touched that he was opening his heart to me in this new way. 

A few days later, I realized I hadn’t seen Traduzir around much, and while the other kids were back in school he didn’t start for another week or so. That evening I saw him and said hello and asked how he was doing and he told me he was tired. That is not a response I usually get from any of the children, as they are balls of energy. So I asked what he was doing and the told me that he had gone to his house to do chores. He went on to tell me that his mother was out at the farm and his sister was alone, so he went to help her around the house.

The best way I can describe it is going out to the farm. It’s a common thing here. I don’t know who own the farms, but it’s common for women (and sometimes men) to travel out of town to a farm. They spend a month or two working to gather produce. At this point, that is all I know.

So his mother is away at the farm, and his sister is alone. His sister is 14 years old.

My mind is bombarded with questions and thoughts… as I’m sure yours is right now. Is she safe? Is she scared? Does she go to school? Where else could she stay? Could she come here? The questions just keep running in my mind. But I do my best to not look out freaked out but to try to find out more information.

I don’t really get much information, while Traduzir’s English is really good, sometime we just don’t connect. He can’t figure out the words, I’m not sure what he is saying. Since he is tired, it’s a difficult conversation.

I leave the conversation basically knowing that his mom is gone for a month to work at the farm. And during this time his sister is left at the house to watch it and so she can attend school. I know this is common; in fact some of our boys have come to live with us because of this whole farm situation and being left at home at a much younger age. My American thought process is never going to really understand this, so I don’t linger to long on the topic, but vow to myself to ask more.

This must have been a week ago. A few days ago we were talking again. I actually don’t even remember the conversation. I don’t even remember how Traduzir’s house came up but at the end of the conversation we had plans to visit his home on Saturday. I couldn’t be any happier.

One of the hardest things about living in Pemba, is being surrounded by so many in need. In the average week, I would say that at least 2 people come to Nunu and I in need, and that is just the people we know… it doesn’t include folks who walk up to us on the street. While The Dream Project has a budget each month for this kind of thing, it runs out fast. While we are good at saying “No” to lesser requests, Nunu and I could still easily spend all of our money just helping people. What we found works for us is to put our tithe toward helping others or whatever giving we do.

To give you an idea last week alone three of our boys came to us (2 who live here and 1 who might as well,). One had a sister die, one had a sick mom, and one’s sister miscarried twins. They all need bus money to get to the funerals or hospitals. How on earth do you say no to those kinds of request?

So anyways, Nunu and I try to discuss how we will spend our tithe each month. I told him I was going to be going to Traduzir’s house and filled him in on the situation and we agreed on a number that I could spend to buy food or other items his sister, Sarah, needed.

First Traduzir and I went into town. I needed to buy a few things and we also bought 2 loaves of bread, 8 bananas and a bottle of dish soap to take to his sister.

We wound our way through the village of Ciraco. Talking basically the whole way. I asked more about the farm and his mom. I found out that they don’t know exactly when she will come back, she is usually gone for 1 or 2 months. I found out that she doesn’t earn money while she is gone but will come back with produce. I asked Traduzir where does his family get money to buy food the rest of the year and his words ring in my ear. After a short pause, he looks up from the ground and say, “I really don’t know Mana Manda.” I don’t push.

He goes on to tell me that his mother sometimes asks him for money, he tells me, "if I have it, I give it to her but I don’t always have money." I also asked him what Sarah eats and got the same response… he doesn’t know. This is when it gets hard.

I’m sure your heart is breaking a little bit, as mine did too. This is life in Moz. I do my best to maintain composure as if he has just told me of the weather. All the while my mind is running wild.

After a 25 or 30 minute walk, we arrive at his house. We head around to the back and find Sarah is bent over a little cement stove. I look around. The yard is very simple. I notice a bamboo cage of ducks and wonder over. I ask if they are for eggs or to eat. Traduzir isn’t sure but thinks they must eat them.

Front of the house.

Sarah cooking over a small cement stove. 

The back of the house. 

Ducks in a cage.

I ask if I can go in the house, and if I can take pictures. He says yes with no hesitation. It is a 4 room house, probably 22’ x 15’. Three are private with door and the other one is an open space, like a family room. Although all 4 spaces have beds and bug nets. Traduzir has an older brother who just enlisted in the Military and apparently an uncle is storing his bed in the living room. I notice that the front door has a wood slot on each side, so a board can be slipped into place as a lock at night. I also see that Sarah’s room has as lock. Traduzir tells me he bought that for her and told her to keep all the valuables in there and lock it when she goes out… basically the food and cooking supplies.

I absolutely love this picture of the corner of the living room.

Traduzir shows me the schapa (roof tin) that he received from the Dream Project a few months back. Rather than putting it on the roof, he has it stored in the rafters with dreams of a new house for his mom and sister in the future.

A quick glance up and you see more than just roof, but also sky. Lots of sky. Traduzir points out where the rain has started destroying the walls. I try to take pictures to share what it looks like but I try not to stare or show just how heart breaking this is. Because this is Sarah’s home, her life, her reality.

The ball of light is a large hole in the ceiling. If you look down to the
left, you can see where the rain has washed away the wall.

We go back out and I sit along the side of the house. The rain has created a little mound along the edge. Sarah goes in the house to fetches me the one chair they have. I’m happy to see that Sarah is cooking. I ask Traduzir what she is making and he points to a tree and tells me it’s the leaves from there.

I see the small tree. I also see that there aren’t many leaves left on the tree. I think to myself, “what else does she eat” but I don’t dare say it out loud.

The tree in the middle is the one she is eating leaves from.

She is cooking the leaves with a small onion and some Benny (chicken seasoning). Sarah also has a friend with her who laughs each time I take a picture. I’m glad to see she isn’t alone. I find out the girl lives next door and I can see her house though some falling bamboo.

Cooking the leaves.

We ask Sarah if she needs anything and find out she need laundry soap and a broom (not like our kind of broom, but it’s a bunch of some grass like thing that they use to sweep the ground). It’s nearing noon and I’m getting hungry. I bought some cookies at the store and so I pull them out to share. I go to hand one to the friend and drop it. I guess the 5 second rule applies here too… even when outside standing on a dirt floor.

We head to the closest Market a ten minute walk. I’m getting bolder as I talk to Traduzir. I tell him if any of my questions make him uncomfortable he can tell me or say he doesn’t want to answer. And away we go.

I ask about his dad. I find out that his dad left when he was 6. After that Traduzir went to live with his grandma for a few months. His grandmother eventually moved out to the farm (once again I don’t know who owns these farms). Traduzir said he didn’t want to go, so he went back to live with his mom.

When he was like 8 or 9, he went on a search for his dad. His mother didn’t know where he was or even if he was still in Pemba. Traduzir eventually found him working an Industrial job. They talked and his father encouraged him to stay in school but never offered to help or tried to give any money.

When Traduzir’s dad left, he had another woman. So now he considered them his family. His salary was used for them. Traduzir and his mother, brother and sister were left behind to fend for themselves.

He tells me that he saw his dad a few more times before he died but that it had been about a year since he had seen him. He also told me that he doesn’t hate his dad for leaving nor does he hold a grudge. He told me he forgave him a long time ago.

We arrive back at the house. In addition to the laundry soap we also bought 6 eggs for Sarah. Traduzir visits a little longer and we give Sarah the money to buy a broom ($.68). She thanks me for coming and bringing the things. I tell her that I hope to visit again.

We begin the walk back.

Traduzir told me a while back that he wants to study University in New Zealand. I know… actually I don’t know… where did he come up with this? But when I was in 6^th grade I did a report on Australia and from that day on it was a dream of mine to go there. I think because of my dream (that probably only made sense to me), I instantly understood his dream. And while I don’t think it will be easy, I believe so much in Traduzir and his determination that he will do everything in his power to achieve his dream. And the coolest thing about Traduzir is that he has laid this at the Lord’s feet.

Today I asked Traduzir if after he goes to University in New Zealand, will he want to come back to Pemba. He said yes. I asked will you want to come back and work with The Dream Project and he said, “Well yes, if they pay me (meaning give him a job).” He went on to say, “I owe them so much. They have done so much for me, I want to be able to give it back to them.”

I tell you this kid. The Lord is using and is going to use him to do great things and I’m excited to watch.

The story doesn’t end yet. As soon as I got home, I recapped my morning for Nunu. He was so touched. For those of you who don’t know all of Nunu’s story, when he was about 16 the orphanage he was living in asked him to move home (since he had a parent). The only thing was that his dad didn’t actually live at their house. He lived 1 hour away (walking). Nunu and his 14 year old brother lived by themselves and had to walk to their dad’s house each day to receive about 70 cents between the 2 of them to make dinner.

I was planning to ask Nunu if we could help Sarah until her mom returns but he suggested it first! I love it when we are both touched by God to act in the same way. We talked for a while and decided that we want to help but not over do it. We agreed to start small plan to give Traduzir money to buy Sarah eggs, bananas and rice each week.

Balance is a hard thing here, so we don’t want to give so much that she becomes dependant on us once her mother returns. It’s hard to know just how to respond, we just know have to do something so this is where we will start.

We pulled Traduzir in to our room to let him know what our plans were and I’ll never get used to people reactions here. They are so somber. Almost some strange combination of being embarrassed that they need help mixed with shock and not being able to find the words to express what you are feeling.

We also told Traduzir to let us know if she has other needs and we will do our best to help.

We didn’t mention anything about the house, but Nunu would really like to find a way to build a new house for this family… that basically means we have to find the money to pay for it =)

For me asking some questions in Mozambique can be so hard. Hard because the reality here is so different from what I am used to. Hard because it’s someone’s life I’m asking about… and often times it’s the only thing they have ever known. Hard because once I know the answer, I am changed. I can no longer sit back and say I don’t know.

So here is what I know today:

I know that there is a 14-year-old girl named "Sarah".

I know she is living alone in her house while her mother is away at the farm.

I know she sleeps under a leaky roof with a flat cardboard box above her bed as her last line of defense from the rain.

I know she ate leaves for lunch.

I know when we asked her if she needed anything she said a broom and soap.

I know I’m changed.

I know Nunu and I will try and provide for Sarah while her mother is away.

I know it would cost around $500 to build a new home for Traduzir's family. 

I know God will provide.

If you or your small group, co-workers, mom’s group or whoever would be interested in helping us raise part of the $500, email me. If you would like to donate money toward the cost of the house, donations can be made through The Dream Project by clicking here.

As always, thanks for reading and sharing with me in this journey. 

Keep us in your prayers.

Be Blessed!

Amanda

** Names of children have been changed, as some stories are of a private nature. Whenever possible I use the same names from Dreaming of Mozambique. If you are sponsoring a child and would like to know the name I use for them, please email me.

A Blog.

I write to you today with no stories of my life.

There will be no photos in this blog.

I write today only to tell you that for the last 2 plus weeks (maybe even the last month) the workers have been "finishing the building." I've lost track of how many times the head builder has told us he was days from "finishing the building." If you've built before, you might be shaking your head along with what I'm saying. But unless you have built in a 3rd world country, I don't know that you could even start to understand the obstacles we've been facing.

One day I hope to share some or all of the story but not today, because the thought of reliving some stories is to much to think about right now.

Today just like so many others I process. I stand my ground, not expecting perfection but just that things get done and I try to keep myself together.

I just keep reminding myself that more than likely these guys live in houses that are nothing like the one they are building. So we have different expectation.

I think they are now really with in days of finishing, and while I would love to say each day gets easier... it does not.

Like so many things in life... giving up would be the easy thing to do. But this is about so much more than a new home for Nunu and I. When we move, it frees up space for an new office and other new spaces. So I do my best and I rely on the Lord to get me through each day, each hour and sometimes each minute. I know He is using this time to teach both Nunu and me.

I'm curious to see down the road how this experience will be used. Like so many hard moments in my life, I look back and see how it prepared me for something else. Something so much bigger than the hard moment.

Above all, my prayer is that each day I'm more like Jesus. And not just when everything is going my way but in the hard moments too.

Thanks for listening and reading.
Amanda

Prayer Requests:
- I ask that you be praying for Nunu and me, as everyday is stressful for both of us in different ways.
- Also for our workers that they would finish well and do the best they can.
- For my health. I've had a head cold for about a week. It seems to be in my lungs now, as when laying down it makes me want to cough.

Thumbs Up!

A year ago when I came to Pemba, I saw this child for the first time and was totally drawn in. I actually thought he was a girl at first, some of you may remember me talking about Alfie (ow-fee). The only problem was that when Alfie would see me, he would cry. This happened a few times. But gradually he stopped crying. He still wouldn’t come anywhere near me, or look at me. Alfie always wanted to make sure there where other kids around and that I kept my distance. I would hide to take pictures of him. That sounds horrible, but others saw me... like hiding in the open.

I would try to openly get closer, first 15 feet, then 10 feet, then 5 feet. Over time I think he just decided that I wasn’t going away, I wouldn’t say he got used to me, he just figured out how to deal with me. Even after being here for four months, I could tell he just wasn’t to sure about me.

In Pemba, when you see someone, you don’t wave or smile to acknowledge them, you give them a thumbs up. The other day I was driving the truck and as I turned the corner to our road, there was Alfie and another little girl. I gave them a thumbs up and for the first time Alfie acknowledged me in a positive way! He gave me a thumbs up back and even a smile!

Later in the day when the kids were outside playing I joined them (it’s the day we played with the red ball). Alfie eventually came over to play and he was in the spunkiest mood I have ever seen. He was running around giggling, it was like the joy had been locked up inside of him and today it was bursting from every seam.

Each time I looked at him and gave him a thumbs up he giggled at me. He would come close and he would look me in the eye. He would run behind the house and so I decided to go to the other side and see what he would do. When he came back around the corner, I peaked out at him and he laughed so hard. Every moment I could I would hide and peak out at him (I’m not sure our relationship is to jumping out yet, so I just peak). He even started doing it to me. It was so fun.

Some of the older kids caught on to what we were doing and they naturally took it to far. I was sitting on our porch and someone picked him up to put him on my lap. He was screaming but it was a happy scream, but I put him down as soon as he got on my lap. I think lap sitting is just a bit to advanced for our relationship. I’d be happy if he sat down next to me.

I’m trying to go slow. Not to scare him. So I inch forward. I take pictures. I give thumbs up. I smile. It’s not much, but it’s where we are and I’m happy to be here.

For more pictures of Alfie and the kids playing, check out this link to Facebook pictures.

Prayer Request:
- We are currently working on half a building. I will blog soon about it, but in the mean time we need your prayers. The building is over budget and the builder is asking for more money than what was agreed upon. Adriano is going to call the builder today to see if he can work things out. Prayers for a good conversation full of grace, love and resolution.
- School starts next week!

Another Man's Treasure...

I’m not sure if I’ve said it or not yet, but it’s so great being back! I’m seeing little changes in myself and some of the kids. The first morning I stepped out of our room, I was greeted with a sea of “Good Morning, Mana Amanda” or “Bom dia, Mana Amanda!” Most of the greetings came from the neighborhood kids many of whom had never really acknowledged me and now they were shouting greetings at me with big smiles on their faces (remember people don’t emote here as much as in the States). Every time I came out of the room, someone greeted me. I said something to Nunu and he told me that he was trying to teach them manors, that it is polite to greet people. Wow! That is awesome!

Some of the greetings have faded, but every day, every afternoon and every evening I’m greeted by someone. And it’s really nice, it makes me feel more welcome.

When I walk to the shop around the corner, some of the kids yell out “Manda” where as they used to just call me “Coonya” meaning white person. One of the girls who now knows my name is the little girl who I took this picture of back in July. When she would just look at me and run away laughing. I think her name is Gefing, but I can’t remember if that is correct.

I’m working to learn more names, but it’s slow and hard. Names are so unique, I’ve never even imagined some of them and I couldn’t even begin to spell. I gave this one boy my extra rice one day and then I called him back and tried to ask him his name in Portuguese… he told me it was Gracious (like Thank You in Spanish). The look on my face must have read utter confusion, but I quickly just tried to smile. A few days later, I asked again and got the same name, so meet Gracious!

Many of the young children only speak Macua, the tribal language and they don’t learn Portuguese until they get into school. So I’m still trying to find out what his name is!

A few days ago, I was headed out of our yard. I was only going to the end of the street, which is only 30 or 40 feet away, so I was alone. As I walked out of the gate, I saw 4 small children. Their eyes lit up when they saw me. A few even jumped with joy and began giggling!

As I continue walking, I see a few more children become excited. I’m pretty sure one child even scolded another and told them not to be so obvious, stand back a little, chill out… something along those lines. But today it’s not me they are excited to see. It’s what I’m carrying.... I have 3 small plastic bags in my hands. My bags are not empty, they are not full of candy or toys… they are full of garbage.

As I throw the bags into our little garbage canyon, I can see the children trying to hold back. Excited that 2 of my bags didn’t fall very far. I can tell they are trying to wait for me to turn my back and walk home. So that is what I do, I don’t look back. I can’t. It’s just to heart breaking for me. I pretend to be oblivious.

I don’t really even know what it is they are looking for, I know they like empty bottles and rubber gloves. Some sort of never before seen treasure? I’m sure they think I throw away good food. But I don’t, at least not in this trash. I’ve had to change how I throw things out. I’ve learned what to offer up before it hits the trash… at least some things like plastic bottles. And we give all our extra food away, we even ask children if they can wash our empty peanut butter jars. Nunu put me on to this, because they LOVE peanut butter but it’s better to ask them to clean it than offer the leftovers.

I know in the States recycling is big and most people have multiple containers for trash these days But I would guess that ours differ from yours.

We have a special garbage for food (it helps prevents maggots in our trash, YUCK!). Each day that gets thrown out, it’s usually a small bag the size of a large man’s fist. It usually has bananna peals, the little black thing where you pick the tomato off the vine, onion skin, burnt pop corn, eggs shells, chicken bones and just whatever scrap of food that needs to be thrown out.

The little kids are so intrigued by all of our trash, that if we have a rotten egg or something completely bad that the kids might try to eat. I ask Nunu to go throw it away sneaky like, because they don’t watch him as close.

 I have another bin that I put all medical waste into, rubber gloves, tissues, used band-aids and Q-tips. As we have one child who is HIV positive and I never know the status of the neighborhood kids I bandage. I keep this separate and plan to burn it… I’m just not sure where yet. Burning is the only option as in the past I have thrown rubber gloves out, only to find a child later in the day with a blown up rubber glove. While I’ve never been one to burn trash, here it is a safety precaution.

I also have a small box for when I find shards of glass. One day after bandaging what felt like my millionth toe, I decided to be proactive. I look for glass in our yard and along our street and I pick it up. I’ve asked the kids to bring me all the old light bulbs. One day when I have a bunch I will smash it up and dig a hole and burry it, or put it in the foundation of a building (which is what we did last time).

Our last and main garbage is for all the boring papers, wrappers, and what not.

I think part of going through our trash is that many American’s or visitors do throw away good things. Like water bottles or old peanut butter jars. But I also think part of it is curiosity.

Seeing this combination of curiosity and need, just compels me even more. A few time I’ve just gone out and sat by the water well, where the kids often hang. I try to take pictures, which they love. I played ball with them one day… not soccer, just keep off the ground. Each time they hit they ball in the air, everyone yells “YAY!” We play till the ball pops… when a ball cost 34 cents you don’t expect it to last long =) 

Red ball cost 34 cents, but the joy is priceless!

YAY!

Stress... Party of One.

I feel like everyone wants to hear about Christmas. But it’s been stressing me out to find the words to say. In part because this is my third Christmas and the feast and explosive smiles don’t differ a lot each year (I don’t say that at all to take away, but it’s just more fun to write about new experiences)… but also because it’s a fairly stressful day… well at least for me.

A lot goes into feeding 50 people. Trying to figure out who gets invited and what do we do with those that can’t come. How do we stretch the money we have so that the plates are full? I think it’s a cultural thing because I can tell I’m the only one thinking of some of these things. I didn’t grow up with neighbors watching me thought the windows on Christmas day, and that is what it feels like to me.

Those of you who know me well are probably wondering if this is a “it’s not fair thing,” but it’s actually the opposite for me. I go into the day knowing it’s not going to be fair. Knowing that it must be hard for the children who peek through our gate and those who get inside but aren’t on the list.

For me I want to stick to the list, because we could “just add one more” for days. We have to draw the line somewhere, I’d rather draw it and be done. But it’s not always easy to do.  

This is one of those cultural things you can’t plan on, you can’t prepare… you just are in the situation praying not to make a fool of yourself. Praying for grace.

All-in-all Christmas was wonderful. Back in September the PA’s who visited brought almost 30 backpacks (maybe more, I can’t remember). Two women in the community organized families to fill the backpacks. It was so amazing! And I love that it was a cross continental event!

For more pictures click HERE!

In total, 37 bags were filled! Each child got 2 boxes of cookies, 2 bags of candy, a tooth brush, tooth paste, a wash towel, 2 bars of soap, a ball cap, pencils, pens, colored pencils, 2 notebooks and one personal item. The personal items ranged everything from a watch, sunglasses, clothes, balls, trucks and even a few mp3 players.

The crazy thing is that as soon as we are done planning Christmas, we turn around and have to start thinking of New Years!

That night the kids got to eat chicken and spaghetti… and there was no list. As long as we had food, kids were welcome to come eat. Oh and they all got a bottle of pop (a big deal here) with dinner. Nunu and I also popped TONS of popcorn. I’d guess like 10 – 12 gallons! They had a movie marathon of Pirates of the Caribbean.

That night Nunu and I actually went out to dinner. We don’t get to do that often and we hadn’t left the house at all together since I had arrived (at least not for fun). So we went to Wilson’s Warf, one of our favorite places in Pemba. It’s run by South Africans and so far it’s the only place I can find a chicken breast. It’s actually a sandwich with some sort of picante sauce and it’s a nice break from bone in chicken. We both tease each other because we order the same thing each time we go. Nunu always gets Calamri =)

Now that New Years is over, we begin the task of getting all of the kids enrolled into school. As their school year starts on January 14^th. By this afternoon, all will be enrolled and then next week will be all about getting them new school uniforms. Back to school shopping for almost 40 kids! At least they got much of what they need in their backpacks.

In closing, I just want to say that yes, some days here are hard. I’m a missionary, I’m not perfect and I know that God has many things He is still teaching me. Some days are harder than others, but I find so much peace in how far God has brought me. Learning lessons isn’t always easy but I look forward to the day that I can look back and see just how God brought me through the stressful moments.

Prayer Requests:

PRAISE! – I don’t know if I ever wrote about this on my blog, but on the Dream Project’s Facebook page, I shared about our neighbor, Sanito, being hit by a car.

Links to the Facebook Requests:

Sanito Prayer Request

Sanito Update

Well on Christmas day, in walked Sanito! It was the first time I had seen him, he has cast on his leg and uses a crutch. But the first thing you notice is the scar in the shape of a backwards “7” with the corner separating his forehead from his hairline. My guess is the scar is about 8 inches total. I don’t have a lot of experience here with hospitals, I only know that they have a high death rate in pregnancy. But I’m convinced it’s a God thing that he survived. So thank you, thank you for your prayers. My guess is you can keep them coming in regards to his leg and rehabilitation!