A New Year Novel

Happy New Year everyone! Here is a real, true, live update. I wrote it and posted it in the same day.

I am sitting in my host family’s house babysitting their two kids as I have done before when the parents are both needed somewhere else. Such is the life of these involved doctor parents, and it looks like their kids will probably turn out somewhat the same. Michaela and Joshua are constantly occupied with playtime and book reading, but not today because four-year-old Michaela has malaria. “Having malaria” is a common term the natives use for saying the symptoms of malaria are strong on a certain day, since pretty much everyone has it, and the symptoms only come when the immune system is not doing as well. There are so many different types of malaria, and most Africans can live quite alright with it, so they don’t often treat it or take preventative measures for it unless it is severe malaria. But for those who haven’t grown up with it, it is a different story, and possibly quite a scary one since there is a special kind of malaria in this part of Africa called cerebral malaria that effects the brain. I don’t know much more about anything, except that it’s hard to tell which kind you have except for the patterns in the symptoms. Unfortunately most malarias have symptoms that are pretty much the same, except for sure the cerebral kind, but since it is more severe you don’t want to get to that point. That’s why when you have malaria for the first time, especially foreigners, it should be treated very seriously. Yesterday when Michaela first started feeling icky I didn’t understand the implications on her health until Belen stated she was going to wake her up to check on her mental abilities. “Whoa. What?” I thought. And I asked them when they were done checking on her how long it took for cerebral malaria to become seriously damaging.

“Within hours.”

Talk about a brick wall. Suddenly everything slowed down and I got a chance to glimpse into another part of Nigerian life. I’m not implying that Michaela is fatally sick, because she appears to be doing much better today, but it did give me a small glimpse into what it would be like if she was. When a child dies in America, it is a big deal – devastating, a huge tragedy – when a child dies in Africa it is sorrowful and tragic of course, but common almost. Even saying these things, I know you cannot fully understand. It was only after I got a chance to experience a part of Michaela’s life that I could take a small peek into this understanding. I laughed with her. I got impatient with her. I pretended with her. I read to her. I disciplined her. I taught her. And only after that could I see more fully what a difference in definition “tragedy” is to Africa then to America.

It is still difficult for me to understand their (native) lives and how they live so basically and survive. Survival of course is an innate sense but I am referring to being able to live comfortably and with a sort of insurance on everything working out alright. Insurance? What’s that? When a car crashes, it gets pushed to the side of the road. When a house burns down, two families cram together in one house. When the government wants land, it will be taken from whoever whenever. When equipment fails, it’s lost. There are no receipts, no return policies, and no set prices. When you need water, you may not have it. When you need food, you may not have it. If you get robbed, your stuff is gone. If your child gets kidnapped, only prayer will bring her back. If the police ask for money, then you should probably give them money. If you ever run out of money, then you will have to borrow from a friend or resort to bartering until you have enough again. Here is a perspective the Adventist hospital here is trying change: “if you are sick you will stay sick unless you have enough money to pay for it.” I’ve heard many times that they will find sponsors for people who don’t have enough money to pay for their hospital bills, or they will dip into their Patient Care fund, where people have donated a lump sum especially for that purpose.

At home one of my favorite shows was Extreme Makeover: Home Edition because I so enjoyed all those families living in extremely poor conditions getting an unexpected chance at living in a mansion. Honestly, I cry during that show, so I was blown away when I got here. I knew it was going to be bad, of course, but I didn’t realize that I would be able to count on one hand how many upper-class houses I’ve seen. I could probably say the same for the middle-class houses as well. When I say “upper-class” they are nice because they have walls that completely enclose the house, and probably a few air conditioning units. Most of their money is spent on their fence, and maybe a few of them might even have pools and some nice rugs and furniture. In fact, they probably have a way to have power, or use a generator most of the time, and actually have some comforts that a good portion of Americans may not have. But really the equivalent of an upper-class house to us is an upper-middle-class house at best. Middle-class houses are what we would consider lower-class houses in the States. Lower-class houses are what we would consider junk piles. And still everyone has rats. Everyone has dirt and dust everywhere. Practically no one has a refrigerator. Everyone loses power at some point in the day. Everyone experiences bad traffic. A good portion doesn’t have running water. And like I said, every family experiences sickness. The very basics of what we expect out of life – such as good health and a place to sleep at night – are not things that most of Africa experiences. The truth is I don’t know the amount of people in extreme poverty, or even poverty. I don’t know where to draw the line. I don’t know how to convey it, even more so because when I say “almost all” it doesn’t seem to get the message across.

I know that you’ve heard the Africa story over and over but don’t do it…. Don’t lump this with the others in the back of your brain until it’s your turn to tell an exciting story. Ever wonder why you hear so many of the same stories with the same endings and the same troubles from Africa? IT’S BECAUSE THEY’RE ALL TRUE. I think it is hard for us to be impacted by this because we cannot understand living our lives like so many others are. I’m telling you now that it’s extremely difficult for me to understand it and I’m living in it right now! But I can’t forget who these people are because I’m talking with them, greeting them, and answering questions on my well being, all the while surrounded by this “impossible to imagine” environment. It is really hard, and I don’t expect to fully understand it by the time I come home. But I do know this: when I come home I won’t get mad at the waitress for bringing me the wrong food because I’ll be happy to have guaranteed food (like I have now), let alone the options. Let alone the promise of getting to the restaurant safely. Let alone eating with those I love. Let alone sitting in a temperature-controlled environment. Let alone being able to pay for food. Let alone knowing I’ll be able to eat another meal another day, let alone the same day. Let alone knowing I’ll be going home to a warm bed and enclosed walls with a soft pillow and fuzzy blankets. Not that every culture doesn’t have its general issues. Not that the human race isn’t all struggling in a world of sin and constant trials. But experiencing another country’s trials opens up a perspective.

There is something that changes a missionary. Someone who goes into a different culture, who tries to make a difference, who isn’t doing it for side reasons or business purposes… there is a change that happens to that person. It changes them because they see the environment they must live in for a certain amount of time and they are forced to change in order to adjust and they must go on through the rest of their lives having experienced that change. They will never look at life the same. And it is their job to help others realize why they changed and act as a middle-man between two very different cultures. Because I know you may never experience the same things I am experiencing I will try to do my best to interpret this life to you.

As promised...

So here's a summary of everything so far as promised...

I won’t be doing secretarial work like they had suggested earlier, but I’ll be helping out with many projects throughout the year along with reading for 10-20 minutes a day to the school children. I’ll also be helping out with Pathfinders, which is much overloaded, and with the children’s choir that my host mother (Belen) puts on, as well as starting a worship band with Eric, Belen, and some of the local teens. Also they have an awesome outreach service here that takes a group of students out into the jungle to the farmers to pray and read the Bible with them. Eric and I went the first night and to the same group on one of the Sabbaths since they do a church service every week there as well. Unfortunately everything is in Yoruban, so I can neither be helpful nor gain much each time, unless I learn Yoruban fast.

The reading thing is supposed to be helpful because they have such a hard time understanding American English that they don’t generally understand you unless you adopt a British accent of some sort. I objected to my importance in this, when really it doesn’t feel like such a big deal, but there are some good reasons. Yoruba accented English is about the hardest to understand for one thing. We have some seasoned missionaries here that have traveled to a great deal of Africa, and find this region the hardest to communicate with. They explained that this limits the success for the future generations to simply this area, since getting a good prestigious grip on business and title in this world requires going mostly to English speaking countries. Like I said, they speak English, but it’s hardly recognizable, especially to us Americans because the English they learn is British. So when they take English class, the spelling and the pronunciation is British, which is why I faltered in seeing my importance since I would teach differently. But they related a story of an extremely bright student who interviewed at Yale and didn’t get in because of their poor English skills – this student was considered extremely bright, but their English skills made them fail the interview. So they’re thinking that if they could at least learn to understand American English, for those that would want to expand their horizons, they have an opportunity. I do have to agree with them on that – opportunity is a big deal. So I’ll only be reading to them instead of teaching them, but if they want to learn, I will certainly be open to that option. All I can really hope for is that God will use me no matter what; at home or while I am here learning from this experience, and I know it’ll be fun to tell them stories anyway.

Already I’ve helped finish some projects, so I hope that I’ll have enough to stay busy all year. The house I’m staying at is a guest house of the Lohr’s. Jason, the dad and the Medical Director, and Belen, the mom, both specialize in family practice. They have two kids, Michaela, 4, and Joshua, 3, which are nothing but energy and questions. The house is very nice, but I do have to go in an outside hall to get to the bathroom and separate shower which is odd at night since there are security guards for the compound that camp out in front of my house (it’s on a corner of the compound). Also since they view shorts on women as promiscuous, I have to put on some different clothes if I ever go outside at night. Hehe. I am very comfortable in my little house by now though; Belen made sure I had a good start by giving me curtains for privacy and a battery operated lamp so I’m not always in the dark when the electricity turns off. The effect of no electricity is something that I’m sure is hard for people in the States to understand because there it is on constantly, but it’s actually off most of the day here. This is difficult because it affects everything, not just houses, so it is SO DARK when it happens at night. I have never seen such pitch black darkness. It’s also hard because the fans only work with electricity, so when they’re off during the hottest part of the day, everyone is sweating profusely, even the natives.

The compound is beautiful and contains the hospital, a dorm-ish sort of thing for the “interns,” and houses for the doctors. Outside of the compound to the South and West is the Adventist secondary school and ½ of the primary school. The secondary school is in pretty good shape, but the primary school was bombed as an act of vandalism during a local war in 1999. ADRA raised funds to build a new school (the West one) within the same year as the war but they haven’t been able to use it yet because the fence is still broken. When I say fence, I really mean wall, which would keep people out, but more importantly keep children in. This beautiful new-ish school is just sitting over there, being used by the 3^rd-5^th graders because they are old enough to not wander off, but the kids ages 3-8 aren’t allowed over there yet. The fence they want to fix will cost $10,000, which is actually for only two sections of it, but it covers the most dangerous parts they are worried about. So for now, the remaining six grades are in one tiny building with partitions made of flimsy pressboard and a structure of two-by-fours. It is incredibly loud and packed in there so much that one of the classes is held outside mostly. It doesn’t help that they start their kids here at age three in full-time school and of course the classrooms are bursting at the seams with children, and lacking resources on top of that, so the teachers are super stressed out. Still, the Adventist reputation for good schooling here brings in more kids still, and actually educates them, unlike their equivalent of public schools.

The compound is very nice and well-maintained, but outside, in the rest of Nigeria, there is trash EVERYWHERE. Along the highway from Lagos to Ife there are mounds and mounds and mounds of trash just along the road. They don’t have a good place to put their trash, so they burn it when it gets too high or too stinky. We give all of our scraps and bad food to the pet antelope and dogs one of the doctors here owns, which takes care of that, but not everyone else has that option. There are a lot of goats here, but the goats would rather eat grass if there is any, so it doesn’t do a whole lot of good for cleaning things up. Also I’m guessing that a lot of other people have issues with bad food because only the people with backup batteries can keep the refrigerator on when the power turns off. And as far as I’ve seen, only a few families have that luxury, and all of them are within the compound. Traffic is the main cause of death here, as it is in most countries I believe, but I think it is significantly more so here. The roads are so incredibly bad, and they hardly have any traffic rules, especially ones they reinforce. To go to the school everyday I have to cross a main street, and it is actually a scary thing to do. It’s about the equivalent of crossing a 45 mph zone on a hill without any lines or lights… and blind drivers. So, in a nutshell, it’s scary to drive here.

When I first got here I was definitely culture shocked, and missed home a lot, especially over the holidays. But it’s gotten a little better now, and even more so after getting some more nice homely things for my room and some nice packages from the States. The biggest thing I can do here is be as good a Christian I can because that is the one power they have just handed over to me. I am an oyinbo, or a white person, and everyone is watching me to see what I do. I have ultimate influence on the kids at school, so even if I don’t teach them a bit of English, they might possibly be changed…by my actions? This is a hopeful statement, and at the same time, quite a frightening one – all that influence, placed on me, a human. I definitely need your prayers on this one!

Thanks for your continuing support!

A Much Needed Update

I'M HERE! But I'm sure not many of you are surprised at that. I hacen't been able to get on this specific website this whole time, and I've been here for a little over a month. So when the long term missionaries here said they had Internet, they were kind of kidding. The Internet is so slow that sometimes you have to spend an half an hour just to see one page load, so sending emails and posting blogs is nearly impossible. This may be about the only time I'll be able to get on, so if anything else is posted it might be by my boyfriend or family.

Right now I'm at a Resort for the weekend-before-Christmas family vacation since the father of my host family (Mr. Lohr, aka Jason) has his parents visiting for a few weeks. The Lohrs have been here two and a half years, and have another three and a half left to go. They treat me well, making sure I'm comfortable and not too homesick. The truth of it is, it's impossible to avoid missing home. I definitely miss Richard, my family, flavored ice cream and the climate, even though it is nice to be here. I think at this point in time I'm getting past what they call the "honeymoon" stage where I just love everything here and am now starting to not have so much fun with it. But since you haven't heard about all my rants and raves about this place so far, I'll try to update you throughout time.

One thing's for sure: It's hot. So I got sunburned once already wearing sunblock at all the appropriate times and places, reminding me that we are a lot closer to the sun here. So I used the Lohr's sunblock which is supposed to be impenatrable, as they claim, because they apparently have not got burned once since they've been here. I put this stuff on twice, when they said I only needed it once, and I still got burned. It's never gotten too bad though, so I am still in good health!

Anyway, I don't have much time to be on here, so hopefully I'll get some updates through family and friends to everyone. Just wanted to let you know I'm here and doing alright, though a bit homesick and thank you for your prayers and support as always!

OFFICIAL PLANS!

I now have official plans to go to Nigeria and am leaving *drumroll*.... next Monday! (5 days away.) My stress level is now back on the charts to normalcy and am doing quite well with the whole situation at the moment, especially considering that now I can start thinking about actually leaving my family, friends and boyfriend behind for a solid 7+ months. Quite sad, but for now, I'm so relieved to have some solid plans underway!!!!

The tickets are bought and arrangements made so that I'll be leaving from Portland late Monday afternoon with a long trip ahead of me filled with anxiousness and anxiety toward what is to come. It's funny how I thought I had learned patience earlier on this summer, because I wasn't quite done with that lesson yet. This has definitely been a great learning experience as far as hard decisions come and now all I have to do is hope and pray that this is the one God has led me to.

As usual, your prayers are soo soooooo welcome, I appreciate all that the power of prayer has done for me in my life, especially all the times that I don't know about it! Of course you can still donate funds if you wish (instructions are farther down in this blog) especially because there were a few unexpected things I am possibly paying for, and my goal never was really reached. Thank you so much to everyone who has helped out already, and I will continue to keep you all updated!

"Has the Lord redeemed you? Then speak out! Tell others he has saved you from your enemies." Psalm 107:2

Still in America

Since it's been a while since I've posted an update, I'm here to let you know what's going on. I am still in America. I am waiting for my visa to come back to me in the mail, along with my passport which will come together, and then I'll buy some tickets to fly out in the next week. This makes me feel so much better because the whole not knowing when I'm going to leave is about to make me internally combust. I have discovered about myself that I do want to know when exactly important things are going to happen, but I can be spontaneous about the small stuff. I feel better knowing that about myself, especially after knowing that I will know at least a week before I leave that I'm actually going to leave. (well that wasn't confusing)

So that's the update on me, as far as funds, I'm having communication issues with the Student Missions office at Walla Walla so therefore I don't know the latest info. The school is changing the email system there, and I am left in the dark about what to do about it, so I will be able to check my fundraising status as soon as I can call the wonderful Tech help there. :) Oh joy.

God is so good. Sometimes I just need to say that to other people to remember what it means to me. I have been waiting and waiting for this thing to go through and getting impatient and stressed out and ignoring my feelings to make it easier sometimes, but I woke up this morning thinking that there is a reason I did not go early. Whatever it is that is better because I've waited a little longer to go is because God wanted the best thing for me. I know that there is one relationship for sure that has been started in the time that I've supposed to be gone in, that probably would have NEVER been started otherwise. I wouldn't trade almost anything for this relationship, and therefore I know that God is good. I am SO thankful that he wants the best for me. What a great God we serve. I hope God continues to bless all of you as he is blessing me day by day! :)