A Great Day!

Tough days are common here. In this line of work, it seems like there is ALWAYS something that can and will go wrong. However, every once in awhile, a day comes along that makes every hard day seem completely worth every second of struggle. Last Thursday was just such a day.
After several days of feeling sick (we had been passing around a bug), we were mostly all feeling better. Jamie and I walked to class that morning, and more than any other day, I was awake and alert the whole class period! We read and learned and actually retained information! It was amazing!

At the end of class, we walked home, passing the house of a lady we visit with nearly every day. Her name is Rose, and her family is just precious. Rose is a widow with several children and grandchildren under her care. She is crippled and uses a hand-pedaled bicycle to move around. She helps out at the Catholic women’s development group next door to her home, but Rose doesn’t have a job. In recent weeks, she has been stuck at home because her bike is broken and the closest route to the market, church, or women’s group is flooded and too muddy to pass. Rose has patiently and sweetly encouraged us and taught us little tidbits of language over the last months, and we have enjoyed every second of our time with her!

A few weeks ago, Rose mentioned that it was very cold, and she doesn’t have a blanket. When we saw Rose on Thursday, she mentioned that there is no more food in their house, she has no money to fix her bicycle, and one of her friends at the women’s group needs money for malaria treatment. She concluded that conversation with, “I don’t have a job, and I can’t go anywhere to get one.” It was then that the light bulb went on in our minds. We had been praying for a female language tutor for months, and Rose, who had been teaching us all along and who speaks slowly and in beautiful English when necessary, needed a job.

Later that afternoon, we asked Rose if she would be interested in helping us learn the language, and she was THRILLED! She immediately began to talk about how great it is for us to learn the language and how she would be so pleased to be our teacher.

At one point during the whole conversation, it hit me that this is something we have been praying about for months. I have been requesting prayer for a female language tutor who speaks English, and we as a team have been looking for just such a person for so long! And here is one…right under our noses, who was just waiting for us to ask!

At one point, I know I saw tears in Roses’ eyes, and I began to think about how many prayers this may answer for her as well. I was so encouraged to think about how God uses different events to meet the needs of all of His children. Not only did He answer our prayer, but He is using us to meet this family’s needs. How awesome that we have such a caring God who hears all of our requests and answers them so perfectly!

So, now we have a language tutor! We will be meeting with her for a few hours a week while we are still in language school, and we will adjust that as soon as our schedules are a bit more flexible! But thank you for your prayers! They work wonders!

A Day in the Life...

This is what one hour of my life looked like today…
4:01 pm Take computer to the banda (little hut) to try and get internet to work. Try for several minutes...nope, still no.
4:11 pm Begin biking to language school.
4:12 pm Hit massive pothole, bump leg on bike frame, and realize you have just given yourself a huge knot on your knee.
4:17 pm Get skirt caught in bike chain. Yank free and wave to the Dinka women who are laughing at you. Assume you have accidentally displayed more than is culturally appropriate to all in sight.
4:22 pm Maneuver around the pack of children trying to chase you and throw things at you…yell to them in Dinka as you pass, “That is rude! Don’t do that!”
4:25 pm Arrive at language school to find out it has been canceled for the night. Professor Moses is suffering from “la ror apei”…don’t ask.
4:32 pm Watch as supervisor attempts to reconnect the battery on his vehicle. The potholes have shaken it loose again.
4:34 pm Hear teammate ask you, “Is that blood on your leg or just mud again?” Investigate and reply calmly that it is indeed blood. When she asks what it is from, admit that you have absolutely no idea. Realize that neither one of you is particularly worried about the fact that you are bleeding.
4:35 pm Begin biking home.
4:36 pm Stop and talk to Dinka ladies. Greet them, practice a few sentences, and leave quickly because it has begun to rain.
4:45 pm Get stung by a wasp that gets stuck in your shirt. Grimace in pain…
4:47 pm Maneuver around the motorcycle accident on the main road and the crowd of people that has gathered to debate what happened.
4:49 pm Get stopped by military personnel to allow an important person to pass uninhibited in his vehicle. Wait by the side of the road for two minutes before continuing.
4:52 pm Arrive home soaking wet.
4:54 pm Watch as a teammate fixes his bike…the seat fell off on the ride home.
4:55 pm Discover that someone has cut a large hole in your fence sometime during the 45 minutes that you were away from home.
4:56 pm Notice for the first time that the tree in your front yard has the word “MINE” written on the side in bold, red spray paint and there are nails stuck in the tree where the “Danger: Mine” sign used to be located.
4:58 pm Feed glucose biscuits to the impala that sleeps on your verandah.
4:59 pm Discover that there is a large pile of cooked rice resting beside the termite mound in your front yard…and wonder why it is there.
5:00 pm Thank God for yet another exciting day in Southern Sudan.

Dancing Lessons and a Clothing Exchange

This morning at church, I learned to Dinka dance. I know, I know...Baptists dancing at church? But I assure you, it does happen.
Anyway, towards the end of the service, Jamie, Jennifer and I were greeting several of the ladies and children from the congregation. We were practicing our limited language and introducing ourselves when the ladies suddenly came rushing over to us. They lined us up on one side and immediately formed a semi-circle in front of us, cheering and clapping excitedly. A young boy began beating a drum and two of the ladies stepped into the center of the circle and began to dance around each other. The Dinka dance is a rhythmic jump up and down while the arms are held down by the stomach. Occasionally, the ladies throw an elbow up towards the sky while they jump, just to make things interesting. When they get fancy, they do a leap, leap, hop kind of step. It's really interesting. But after the first two ladies danced, they grabbed Jennifer and another Dinka lady and had them dance in the center. Everyone laughed uproariously at Jennifer's dancing. After a few seconds, they made her leave. I was next. They pushed me into the center, and I danced next to another lady. Unfortunately, I smiled too much while I danced. Rather than laughing at my dancing, they scowled at me and instructed me firmly to "be serious." They take their dancing very seriously, apparently. Then I was booted from the center of the circle, and it was Jamie's turn to dance. She did okay, but only lasted a few seconds, too. Finally, the ladies began to say good-bye to us and shake our hands for us to leave. But as we were leaving, many of the ladies began offering us consolatory apologies and saying things like, "It's okay. So sorry." It was then that we realized we had just competed in a dance competition, and we all totally lost. We realized that the ladies were trying to make sure we weren't upset about losing! They actually do this frequently. They have dance competitions between the ladies to see who is most graceful. So, I found out today that Dinka women find me completely ungraceful.
Also, one of the women who made us dance also wanted to swap clothing with me. She kept motioning to my clothes and grabbing my skirt. I thought she simply wanted my clothes (which is a fairly frequent problem), but then she began grabbing her own clothes and pointing at me! Finally, she grabbed my hand, said something about going to her house, and started grabbing both of our clothes at the same time and pointing furiously between the two of us. I finally realized what she meant to happen. She wanted to swap outfits...I would take her dress and she wanted my shirt and skirt. This is actually something that the Dinka ladies do among themselves sometimes, especially between friends. It was a sweet gesture, but I am pretty certain that her clothes would not have fit me and mine probably would not have fit her. Eventually, after much maneuvering, I was able to leave with my own clothes and she kept her dress. It's a tricky thing, this culture. By the time I leave, I will probably have all sorts of African dresses and absolutely none of my original clothing.