Africa. I see videos that we've taken and it looks like a different
country, but being here everyday I feel normal. I've learned quite a
lot in my first two months here; like it's bad to hand things to or
receive them from a person with your left hand, you always shake
everyone's hand when first arriving somewhere, French is super hard to
learn...especially when trying to learn Nanjere too, and food in America
is AWESOME!!!! Everyday, twice a day, I get either rice, pasta, or
sweet potatoes with oil. Everything here is cooked with oil, and the
people don't understand the concept of fresh anything. All veggies that
I eat are fried before they're added to my rice, pasta, or potatoes. It
really doesn't taste bad at all, but after a couple months of the same
thing, it starts getting hard to stomach it. The other day I was eating
sweet potatoes with its oil sauce for the millionth time in a row, and I
almost started gagging...it was pretty bad.
I live with a local family in the village where I have to get my own
water out of a 20-30 ft well everyday for my shower, and where I have to
go to the bathroom in a hole that's 4 in. by 4 in. Let's just say that
I have to practice aiming. The first day that I lived in the village I
asked where the toilet was, and they pointed to some wall where there
was no hole, but I figured that they knew where to go to the bathroom,
so continued with my business. Later, while I was eating, the mother of
the home pointed to some other brokenish wall and said "WC". Well, I
had no idea what she was saying, but when she took me over to see it, I
saw that 4" by 4" hole and realized that I had gone in the wrong place!
Well, after a few more words I discovered that I had just taken a dump
in their shower! I was a little embarrassed, but don't worry, I took a
shovel and threw it in the neighbor's field.
Everyday I think of how life is so different, and how it's so normal for
them. It's normal for them to eat really disgusting food and enjoy it,
and to go hungry for a long time, and to ask every white person for
everything they have including the shirt that I currently am wearing
(which is covered in paint and rust dust). I feel like I have no
privacy, not even in my own hut! Kids will come and sit outside and
watch me, and while I take my shower they will walk by and wave or talk
to me, and when I just want to get away, everyone stares and says
"Nasara!". Sometimes I feel trapped with no way out, but it helps to
look up at the stars at night, because I feel close to God, and close to
something familiar.
Life here has been pretty chill with nothing too exciting. Well,
besides getting some stuff stolen which included $2200, but God is good
and much of it has been returned. I've been working doing some
construction of huts and two 1-day churches, and have been able to
shadow in the hospital a couple of times. I feel like nothing that I've
done here has been helpful though. Sometimes I feel as though my days
here are pointless...well, until yesterday. There was a man who had
broken his back over a year ago while working, and was in a hospital for
a while that didn't take good care of him. He left that hospital with
lots of bedsores and infection, so he came to the Bere hospital. Well,
he was released after a month or so because there was nothing left that
the doctors could do for him; his body was rotting while he was still
alive and there was nothing left. Well, he came out to the town I live
in to ask for help, and we couldn't do anything but pray and give him
some sweet juice for energy. Matthew and I went to go visit him and
sing to him yesterday, and when we got there it was like looking at a
breathing skeleton. When he looked in our direction his eyes would roll
back in his head and he could barely move his arms. I prayed before we
started to sing, and then we sang to him, his wife, and their youngest
child. In the middle of the 2nd song, He moved his hand and it barely
touched the baby, and that was it. He was finally able to rest without
pain. That's the first time I've ever seen someone die, but it was a
relief, and the only sadness I felt was for his family, and his widowed
wife the three children. But for him, I was happy that he no longer had
to feel the pain of this world, because he had been feeling it for way
too long! I feel as though death is such a blessing here. Even when
the babies die right after being born, I just think of how they won't
have to experience the pain of this place and how they will be resting
until Jesus returns. It might not be right that I feel that way, but
after seeing and hearing about some of the pain the people experience
here everyday, I can't help but feeling that way. I really just want
Jesus to come soon, but so many of the people here haven't heard, and
don't understand the love of God! This morning I was able to sit down
with 5 of the children in my home and the mom, and we read the Bible and
had a prayer...hopefully that made a difference in their day today.
Keep praying that God's work here is blessed and that the people learn
more about the love of our Maker.
The smells of Tchad...they're not so bad really. It's like
roses...dipped in poop. Okay, so a little bit of an exaggeration, only
some parts smell like that. Sometimes I'll be walking by someone's
compound and the smell just makes me wanna throw up! The meat in the
market is horrendous, and the people have never heard of deodorant. You
know how bad body odor sometimes smells like bad onions? Well, onetime
coming back from church I was forced to ride between two bad onions on
the moto! I have gotten used to the different smells of this place, and
it's starting to smell like home...not saying that my home in the states
smells bad, I'm just getting used to the smells here!
I didn't realize how important rice is to the people here till I got
here. There are rice fields all over the country, and they taught me a
good lesson yesterday. The family I live with owns a rice field and so
I went out with them to harvest some if it. First we started out with a
sickle cutting down the rice plants and making little piles. Then we
took those little piles and made big ones and carried them over to this
tarp. At the tarp we slapped hand fulls of these rice plants down, and
then beat the plants with sticks so that all the rice would fall on the
tarp. After hours of all of that goodness we gathered the rice in big
bowls and dropped it down on the tarp where the dirt and other things
that were not needed got blown away by the wind. It made me think of
how my relationship with God is. I really don't want to be blown by the
wind because I am not strong enough in my faith. Well, I know that it
might be hard to picture the process of this rice gathering, but it's
not finished yet! After the 3 mile walk there, and 3 miles back in the
super hot African sun, the rice still has to be pounded to get the husks
off. It's a long process for a little bit of food, but it's what the
people here do everyday! They work so hard for everything that they
get, and they do it in order for them to survive. What about us in our
daily lives, are we as passionate about our relationship with God, as
the people here are about their rice fields? They both take time and
have their different challenges, but in the end they're both necessary
for our survival. Have you spent time working with God today?
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