One Week.

Well, I’ve been home for one week today.  It feels like longer.  At the beginning of the trip I was obsessed with looking for what the grand life lesson that I was going to take away from this trip would be.  Tessa told me that sometimes you have to walk away before you know what you walked away with.  And you may have to go a little beyond just walking away.  I know I did learn a lot.  I learned about what a life of missions looks like.  It doesn’t look like what we all see on little one week mission trips, because it’s not a week, it’s a life.  I learned about the power of relationships, and the effort it takes to build them.  

I also learned what a powerful thing language is.  It is mighty to separate when there is a barrier, it is a mighty tool for the Kingdom when that barrier is crossed.  The only way someone will ever listen to you is if you put in the effort to speak their heart language.  I met people who spoke English as their 2nd or 3rd language.  It was enough for chatting about the weather or the activities of the day.  But I learned that if I was really going to touch their lives on a heart level, I would have to speak the language their heart spoke.  It would be like someone trying to really know my heart using Spanish, it’s not the language my heart speaks.  And I’m coming to realize that that isn’t just a lesson for people serving among members of a different people group.  It’s for us all, you have to care about what that other person cares about for them to care about what you have to say.  It takes the effort to learn the language.  

I will also admit that I saw myself not making the most out of the trip.  Not really seeking God with all that I was so that I could see all that He wanted accomplished.  I saw my laziness.  I learned that in whatever God calls a person to, wherever He puts them, constant discipline and work is required to truly be all that He created us to be.  I guess I already knew that, I just saw it played out a bit this summer.  And it’s really easy for satan to come in and make this lesson look truly burdensome.  But it’s not, it’s the realization that God has something more for His children than drudgery and constant mess ups and “I don’t feel like it days.”  It is a life of learning to love God so fully that the work required to maintain our faith and our spirit of service to the Father is our highest joy.  God exposes where we still need work not so that we can hate ourselves and give up, but so that we can acknowledge our need for a Savior and rejoice in the fact that the Father is longing and able to do this good work in us.  “Being confident of this, that he who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus.” Phil. 1:6.  So friends, be confident.  The Father is faithful.  Rejoice in His ability and willingness to grow us and mold us into the image of His Son, and seek each day for the evidence of this good work.  And revel in learning to love your Abba more and more.  God chose us who are not perfect, that His glory might be revealed in His ability to work in us and through us, how great is that!?

[As always, I’m a big fan of comments]

Trains, Planes, and Automobiles: the journey home.

And here we are, in the US, and here we have been for the past three days, but posts that are just a tad late add spice to life right?  We left Tana on Tuesday morning at 12 am on a huge, nice, empty plane that meant everyone got a row to themselves so we actually did sleep a bit.  Then there was Paris.  I paid for a bathroom for the first time and was quite surprised that such an expensive WC smelled like that...  Then there was the purchasing of train tickets for the next day and getting to the hotel via the metro, a grumpy taxi driver, some suitcase toting in the rain, and an almost wipeout in the middle of the metro station on my part.  Our hotel room looked out right on the back of the train station, the rows and rows of platforms made a really cool view.  The next morning we took a train from Paris to Frankfurt Germany.  Most of the seats on this train were in rows, facing one way, however there were the unlucky few of us who were in the sets of four that faced each other with a table in the middle.  Mom and dad had a row, I had a table.  No one came for the seat next to me so I was at my leisure to lean over and enjoy the great big window.  Across from me sat a pretty blond girl, probably in her early 20’s.  She seemed nice enough but I couldn’t ever determine if she was French or Germany or if she even spoke English, so there was no conversation to be had.  Then, just before departure the seat beside her was filled by a young, towering, handsome, blond haired, blue eyed, German fella.  I decided his name was Hans, and since none of us started a conversation with the other two for the whole 5 hr ride, I never had to be disillusioned by the fact that it was not.  It was at this point that I decided that the girl needed to be German and planned a brilliant love story for the two of them, I mean, meeting on an international train on the way home from some adventure, what more could you want.  They failed to cooperate.  They never talked to each other.  From what I could see they never even looked at each other.  When they both nodded off I thought, Great! Their heads will bump, they will wake up, start talking.... Never happened.  Thus love did not bloom on that train, what a shame.  

There were times along the ride that the scenery became monotonous when I tried and failed to study Biology or thought about writing out a blog to transcribe later only to decide that that would be too awkward facing to strangers.  Hans had a newspaper but asking to see it after he was done would have been futile, since it was in German.  

Getting off in Frankfurt City and finding and boarding the train to the airport may have been the hardest part of the trip.  Dropping three small-towners into a metro station in a different language with huge suitcases should be the next reality show.  But we made it.  At the airport we called to hotel we had a reservation for, since our flight to the US wasn’t until the next morning.  They sent their shuttle to get us and we had a lovely drive through a suburb of Frankfurt that looked like the set of the first Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, a delicious dinner in the hotel restaurant - a restaurant that came complete with dark wood furniture, stain glass pictures of German beer, and a group of men in the corner having a pint - ‘twas as quintessentially wonderful as can be.  

The next day was the flight home.  It was so weird walking to get inline with a slew of other Americans after being around quiet Malagasy and reserved Europeans for so long.  We are quite a loud culture my countrymen.  When we landed and walked into the Charlotte Airport a wall of heat and humidity hit us, welcome home.  Then a long trip through international security and a short flight back to Jacksonville sitting next to a kindly old man who told me of his life of traveling and advised me about future travel. Home.  

[Over the next few days I will be getting all the pictures up on Facebook and maybe a post or two more summing up what I learned and such. Stay tuned and thanks for reading]

The Great Forest Adventure!!

Hi friends!

The puppy seems to be on the mend and we are in the capitol city until our flight home tomorrow night.  Thus it is time for the great, gargantuan post detailing our adventure in the forest.  

Day 1-Monday

We got up around 5 this morning to get to the taxibus station by 7.  The trip is only about 40km but, because of the condition of the road, the breakdowns of the bus, and the number of stops the trip can take anywhere from 4 to 9 hrs.  This time it was just 4hrs so we got to Ankililaoka in time for lunch- chicken and rice in the hotel’s restaurant- and then we slept most of the rest of the afternoon.

Day 2.3.4-Tuesday.Wednesday.Thursday

Each of these days followed the same sort of order.  We would get up, walk to a coffee stand outside of the hotel to sip tea and coffee and eat boko-boko- little fried doughballs that America needs to start importing asap.  Then it was a 4km walk from town of Ankililaoka to the little village where we were actually working.  There are a few different ways to take this trip: there were two paths, one through the rice fields that included wadding though knee deep black water, the other seemed a bit longer but was dry, cutting through tall grasses, or, you could go by ox cart.  During the week we did all three multiple times.  

Now, I know that I have made reference before to the way that white people, vazaha, are an exciting rarity, called out to at every turn, and starred at wherever they go.  Well in the rural areas it’s even more dramatic.  We were the only two white people in town for the week and I would just walk down the street - with 10 kids following behind - imagining dinner table conversation that night.  “Well kids, did you see the white girls today?” “Yes daddy, I saw them, one of them was singing while they walked and then she tripped and fell over.”  “I followed them till they reached the edge of town daddy!”  “They were stopped waiting for the ox cart so I stood nearby and imitated the sound of their english dad.”  “That’s all great kids!”  

Out in the village I would sit while Tessa would teach.  It was an interesting feeling for this girl who loves to talk to be forced by the language barrier to sit still and smile at all of the children who came from all over town to stare at the white girls.  There were tons of children and most of the girls mine and Tessa’s age were already toting babies of their own around.  These girls were all very sweet but having them all crowd around you, yelling questions to you in a different language, thinking if they just speak loud enough you will understand, is a bit overwhelming.  The idea that I don’t actually speak their language, that I speak a different one, was completely foreign to them.  Sometimes they would give up on asking me and just try to find out for themselves.  For example, they were wondering why I had worn two shirts and, after asking me why a few times, they just grabbed the shirts to investigate.  They did the same to satisfy their curiosity about my freckles, asking Tessa if they would go away when I went back to America.  One afternoon they offered to braid my hair, which I really wanted since it meant no more washing my hair with freezing cold water out of a bucket.  I didn’t really know how that was going to go, since earlier that day they had asked why I had cut my hair short, since boys cut their hair short, not girls.  When I sat down on the mat to let them start braiding I was surrounded in seconds by all of the women and children, there was a long discussion about just how to brain it, and then combing and pulling in all directions.  But the results, though unlike any brains I have ever seen, did make the rest of the trip easier.  

Day 5-Friday

We got up at 7 to catch the bus home, this bus was much bigger, since it was going to the big city, not from.  The floor of the bus is covered in bags of beans and rice, so your feet don’t actually touch the ground and your legs are all scrunched up.  Also, since the bus is going into the big city we would stop in every town and village along the way to pick up more cargo, people, mail, you name it.  There is no refrigerated transport so animals, except for fish, travel live.  There was a chicken two rows ahead of us, he looked friendly enough, but I didn’t start a conversation or anything, since I’m pretty sure I ate his brother for dinner the night before.  With all of the added stops and a breakdown or two we got back to Toliara in 8hrs instead of 4.  Just in time to clean up, eat dinner, and then realize that the puppy was sick.  

I know that there is so much more that I didn’t mention, as soon as I get back to the states I’ll get all the pictures up on facebook.  Dear reader, please find it in your heart to be proud of me for finally getting this written after nursing a puppy back to health, weaving a rug, helping my parents get across the world for a visit, saying goodbye to Toliara, and riding backseat-middle for two days straight up to the capitol on the bumpiest, curviest roads in the world.  We leave tomorrow night to start the trek home, me, mom, and dad.  We are all ready to get back but I know I’m gonna miss this big island when I get back to my little one.  Please keep us in your prayers for the rest of the week, that sicknesses and tummy troubles would leave us all and stay away, that flights would work out and connections would be smooth, and that we would all have the energy and spunk needed to make this doozy of a trip!  Misotra!

whew!

Hello all of you dandy readers! We got back from the trip yesterday and simply not stopped since, which is of course why the witty, pithy, colorful description of our trip that I have every intention of writing is going to have to wait, my sincerest apologies.  When we got back we found that the dog we have been looking after was sick, right now it just looks like dehydration, but since we don't know what is causing it and he isn't very much fluid down, that has taken up a big chunk of the day.  We are also in the middle of getting mom and dad here, they are currently in the middle of flight 4 of 5, so very close! YAY! Please be praying for continued strength as they finish up. But soon dear readers, whoever you may be, soon I will deliver a full account of a very adventurous week of ox carts and staring children and rice and candlelight and broken down buses and really big smiles! God Bless!

Spaghetti, stars, and Ankililaoka

Last night we had the girls from the youth group over for a spaghetti dinner.  It was so much fun to hang out with them and play games.  As I have said before, they are all just so warm and fun and the language barrier just adds so much to the merriment!  I got to do some serious star gazing from the bed of the truck when we drove them all home, a great end to the evening, I’ll have to get a picture of the stars up here soon. 

Tessa and I are heading out tomorrow morning for a week working out in the ‘bush’ in a village called Ankililaoka.  We will be there Monday thru Friday staying in a hotel of sorts and hiking to the village everyday.  I’m really excited to see this more rural part of Mada and of course, the more rural the area, the better you can see the stars!  I have always loved to look at stars but I have never in my life been anywhere where you can see so many as here.  Just look up and spot the Milkyway or the Southern Cross, easy as a wink!  I know that this trip will stretch comfort and clean loving me, I look forward to it with both excitement and trepidation and will let you know how it all shakes out at the end of the week :D Please be praying that I look with eyes ready to see God at work around me and focus on Glory, not on comfort, as well of course, as a safe trip.  Also, my parents are coming at the end of the week! YAY! Please be praying for safe travels for them.

As a parting note, check out Psalm 44:1-3

O God, we have heard with our ears,

   our fathers have told us,

what deeds you performed in their days,

   in the days of old:

you with your own hand drove out the nations,

   but them you planted;

you afflicted the peoples,

   but them you set free;

for not by their own sword did they win the land,

   nor did their own arm save them,

but your right hand and your arm,

   and the light of your face,

   for you delighted in them.

We have not the strength to fight for ourselves, but He fights for us because He delights in us....Wow! This is something that I know I need to think about and truly realize more, such a humbling, encouraging, glorious truth. I pray that it encourages you today!

Lost in Translation...or, found

Over my time here there have been all sorts of funny things that have been said to me or Tessa and she has turned around and translated them to me, such as “One of them is my wife!!”  Luckily Tessa and I have similar senses of humor, so the things that she finds funny and translates for me are generally pretty good.  Today, when we were getting the bike tires fixed, we took it to the same place that had repaired our truck tires a few days ago.  When Tessa got back in the car she looked at me and said, “I’m not sure exactly what the man said but I think it was ‘No, we don’t fix bike tires, but for you my girlfriend, we will.’ ”  We decided it was that or he said that his girlfriend could fix them, which, if it were the case, would be a truly perfect match, the truck tire man with the bike tire lady!  Several times we have ordered at restaurants and gotten food that we were not quite expecting, one night I ordered a chocolate crepe with ice creme and got a honey crepe with whipped creme, the next time I repeated my order and got a chocolate crepe with ice creme, it adds a bit of spice to every meal to never really be sure what will come out of the kitchen.  

And then there is the trip itself, translating from what I had been expecting all last semester, an Africa adventure, to what it really has been.  And to be honest I’m not sure I can say what it has been.  Ya know those days when you bum around until you think you simply must do something?  Well I never expected to have those here, I came so that I wouldn’t have them.  But I have still had a few, there are days when Tessa is at one of her story crafting groups or working on computer work when I just lazily lay around.  A few time I have found something constructive to do, I made a braided rug for Tessa’s bedroom one day, and a budget for myself another.  It has just been interesting to see my response to these days, this feeling of I’m supposed to be DOING something.  But, in the midst of the few days of bumming I have had the chance to spend time with the nifty folks at Tessa’s church and try to build some sort of a relationship with the girls in the youth group here.  I have gotten to experience so many parts of this really unique culture.  I have gotten to see a beautiful beach and enjoy amazing balm breezy weather.  Next week Tessa and I will take an over crowded taxibus out to the forest where I will get to visit a village and see that whole side of Madagascar while Tessa works with her story crafting group out there.  And I have learned a lot about doing ministry for the long haul, about the differences between little one-week trips and living in a place for several years.  God has blessed me with a clearer image of the kind of ministry that my heart is burdened for.  I have been thinking about all of this a lot as I am coming to the close of my time here in Toliara before the week in the forest and then my parents coming for a week before the three of us head home.  I in no way regret coming, I actually lament leaving.  Nor do I regret the fact that I had several lazy days.  Rest is good, it’s important, it’s a blessing from God.  When it is applied properly that is.  I am not good at doing nothing.  There were several of those bum days when I got all in a tizy because I wasn’t doing anything, I wouldn’t have any good stories, etc.  When I should have been taking that time to delve into the Word, I should have been seeking rest with my Savior and focusing on what He was teaching me on this trip.  So I suppose that is my regret.  That I let my idea of how this summer was supposed to turn out slightly tarnish my perception of how it really has been, my enjoyment of what it really is.  But, looking at the calendar I still have a while before I will actually be back in the States and can say that the trip is over, done, ended, terminated.  And with the time that I have left I plan to just take whatever comes and not try to make it what it is not, what I think it ought to be.  If “God is most glorified in us when we are must satisfied in Him” [John Piper] then I need to be seeking God and seeing the opportunities that He is bringing my way, not seeking the opportunities that I think should be coming, expecting them to bring me to God.  My eyes must be on Abba.  And I hope, faithful reader who has come to the bottom of this long post, that this has encouraged you also, to put your eyes, your focus, your desire on Christ.  Not on the work you are doing for Him.  Let your motivation for each day, for each thing, start with Him.  He doesn’t disappoint.  If we start with Him, allow Him to give us a glimpse of His vision, each day, whatever it may hold, will live up to its potential to glorify Him!  I’ll stop here, since I know full well of my tendency to ramble, but as alway, I like comments, a lot.  And I hope and pray that this day, you will make time to delve into the Father and let him lead.  Have a beautiful day!

Cornrows and Independence!

Sorry it’s been a while between updates(maybe the plethora of pictures at the bottom will make up for it), but this last weeks was one of those where all of the exciting things come at the end, and since Tessa and I both had the sniffles at the beginning of the week, there’s not much to say about it.  The weekend, though, has been nonstop, so here’s the rundown.  

Friday Tessa and I went to the beach with a family of Australian missionaries.  It was ‘the tops’ as they say!  The beach here is amazing!  We drove out over the dunes, it looked like a desert till you rounded a curve and there was the beautiful ocean!  I had forgotten how much I missed swimming in salty ocean water!  So that was Friday, it was so cool to see this huge beach and be the only people you could see for miles, pretty different from the beaches that I am used to in the US.  

Sunday is the Malagasy Independence Day so on Saturday we had a big party with the youth group.  Independence Day is a really big deal here and everyone seemed to be having some sort of ‘fety’ or party.  We went over to the church and hung out for a bit, waiting till everyone got there, during which time I got my hair braided up, it’s amazing how fast she was able to do it!  Then the whole group went as a whole to visit with Mark, Mamy’s son, and from there we all went, with Mark, to watch the fireworks.  They were supposed to start at 7....they started around 7:45 (this is africa!).  While we waited, we sang.  Seems to be one of the most common Malagasy pastimes. I love to listen to them sing, it seems like every Malagasy person out there has a beautiful strong voice and knows every song by heart.  And of course there is the fact that they all have this innate sense of rhythm!  We even sang a few songs in English!  I joined in those.  The fireworks were great!!  They went on for almost a good hour and there were all kinds!!  After that we drove everyone back to the church where most of them stayed the night and came home.  Today we had church and then we all ate together for lunch.  We had chicken and beef, rice, and a tomato, vinegar type salad.  Malagasy cooking is amazing.  I was talking to Tessa and said, ya know, I bet I could make this in the States.  She said, you could try, but it will never taste to same.  And I’m sure she is right, sorry folks.  I’m still sniffing quite a bit so I slept all afternoon, and that, ladies and gents was the weekend.

Probably my favorite part was hanging out with everyone while waiting for the fireworks and while eating lunch today.  The girls are all so sweet and warm.  They laugh at almost anything, including my sad attempts at speaking Malagasy and their rather good attempts at speaking English.  The language barrier here does one of two things.  It either makes you feel very isolated or it stretches you and gives you a ton of things to laugh about.  And from what I have seen in myself these past few weeks, it largely depends on your attitude going into the situation.  It’s like when you wake up, you could just lay there (that would be being isolated) or you can put in the effort and stretch.  Of course, the situation also makes a difference.  For example, when Tessa is having some serious conversation with someone, one that doesn’t lend itself to being translated, I just have to stand there.  But when we are hanging out with people in a group and I am able to smile my way around, pick up on some stuff, and have Tessa translate a bit, it’s a lot easier to feel at ease.  There are all those cheesy quotes about “Everyone smiles in the same language!”  And it really is true, if you can figure out that something funny is happening, you can join in.  And it seems that with this wonderful group of students, there is a lot to laugh about!  Today, while we were eating, I had been served a really big portion of the salad like first course and I wanted to save room for the chicken and rice, so Tessa asked Mark if he wanted to finish it for me.  This, and the berating that I received for not being able to put away as much food as him, were funny enough in themselves, but the best part was, when we had moved on to the chicken and rice, Mark looked over at Tessa with the funniest grin on his face and said, “Tessa, I’m full, do you think you could ask your sister to finish my food for me?”  Maybe it’s one of those had-to-be-there-stories, but to me it’s an example of the fun that I am able to share with the people here even though I can’t speak to them directly.  

There is a lot more that I want to share with all you folks.  A few things that I have dealt with along the lines of culture shock, as well as a few really funny things that Tessa has translated for me.  But I expect to have some down time this week as we get ready for the trip to the forest, so I’ll work on getting those out to you then.  Hope everyone has a good Sabbath and Happy Madagascar Independence Day!!

"Oh, magnify the Lord with me, and let us exalt His name together!  I sought the Lord, and He answered me and delivered me from all my fears.”

Psalms 34:3-4

Restful Catching Up

Since getting back from the funeral not a whole lot has happened.  There has been the run of the mill getting hit on by French and Australian guys, inconvenient power outages, bakery visits (I’m becoming a bit of a croissant junkie), and really big bugs.  This trip, in comparison to other mission trips that I have been on is very unplanned and laidback even.  I didn’t come with any team for a short stay and I wasn’t sent by any organization that gave me any specific job to do.  I just got on a plane (or four planes, to be more exact) and came to live with my sister and watch her work.  Tessa’s work is very wrapped up in language and, since I don’t speak Malgasy (although I am picking up a bit), there is not a lot I can do.  It’s kinda interesting because even though I am on the other side of the world I am getting the same if not more rest and recharging that I would have been getting this summer in the US.  I’ve had time to do lots of reading and stuff like that and we go to bed really early since it gets dark so early.  But I do have the girls’ biblestudy which seems to be going well.  I am learning a lot from Ruth, there are so many signs of God’s providence and care.  The girl’s are all really sweet and having Tessa translate has been an interesting experience.  The weather here is beautiful, breezy and warm, but the kind of warmth that you want to bask in, not the kind that makes you all sweaty.  At least not today :)  I think I am finally really truly adjusting to life here.  That makes me really happy because there were a few days that were really rough.  There were things here that I didn’t expect to deal with: always feeling a little dirty, feeling a bit isolated from really any English speaker other than my sister, not feeling like I’m really doing a ton.  God has been helping me get into His Word more than I had made time for before, it's just been some good “be still and know that I am God” time.  The time with Tessa has been wonderful, we were talking about it one day and said that we didn’t think we would have been friends if we hadn’t been sisters but since we are we really are the best of friends.  I think this time has been a real ministry to both of us!  I know that I have been remiss in taking pictures, let alone in uploading them but here are a few from the trip and here in Toliara that might interest ya’ll.  I hope that everyone is having the beginnings of a very restful and peaceful week.  Why restful and peaceful?  Because it is so important, to really feel like we have time to sit and soak in the Word, to stop and appreciate a laugh or a smile.  I pray that both you and I start to eagerly look at our world to see all the little blessings God sends our way, He likes it when His children smile :)

Nothing like a 3-inch centipede to make a night interesting

One of the main roads from Toliara

There are lots of goats here :)

Our plane to Tana was a bit of a low rider

The Toliara airport

View from the plane, there is just so much untouched beauty here!

View as we were driving up to the gravesite

Malagasy tombs

View from the top of the hill!

The proceeds of a trip to the market, the price of which totaled at about $4.50

The Funeral Trip

I’ve been putting off writing this post, mainly because there is just so much to say.  We left for the funeral on Tuesday morning, around 5, and got back Thursday morning around 10.  The trip was a blessing for both Tessa and I on so many levels and I guess I don’t know which level to start talking about first.  As the Mad Hatter said in the original Alice in Wonderland, “Start at the beginning! And, when you get to the end, stop!”

When we got to the airport the flight was delayed a full 2 hrs.  Tessa and I just said ok and waited, in a tiny airport with only one gate, there’s really no way to fight the system.  Once we landed in Tana we got a taxi, went to the supermarket to stock up on meat that we can’t get in Toliara, and went to the house of the missionaries that we were staying with.  Now that last sentence makes it sound really easy, and it wasn’t exactly hard, but it was not the way I think you are imagining it.  The cabs are holdovers from the 50’s and the streets are as full of people and cars as they can be.  The traffic was especially bad this week because there is some sort of gas shortage going on and there were long lines out into the street at every gas station.  At some point I will have to share with you all a detailed description of the skill of Malagasy drivers, but it will have to come later.

Once at the missionaries house we froze the meat and headed back out.  We took a taxi-bus to meet up with some of Tessa’s friends and then took another taxi-bus outside the city to Mamy’s house.  [Taxi-bus: 13 passenger van rigged to carry about 25+ people]  

A quick description of a traditional Malagasy funeral.  The body is laid out in the front room of the house with candles and flowers.  Chairs are set up in the room in rows.  The family sits on the front row and then any other close friends of the family fill in the chairs behind.  All throughout the time from the death to the time of the funeral groups of people will come in to pay their respects.  Each group will have one person who does the talking and then a very close friend of the family will respond for them, so that they never have to talk.  The group will generally bring a gift of money, to help pay for the expense of the funeral and all of the guests during the wake.  They will shake hands with the family and then leave.  Then there is the wrapping of the body, the funeral, and the burial, but I’ll get to those later.  

Tessa and I came in during this time and it was so good to see how much everyone appreciated her being there.  She was among friends, people whom she had worked with and gone to church with and served with during her two years living in Tana.  After she hugged and talked with the family we sat down and watched as the groups came in.  Most of the people seated in the chairs would be staying the night and had probably stayed the night before as well.  We decided to leave and come back in the morning.  We got up the next day around 7 to take a taxi to where we would catch the taxi-bus again.  When we got to the house we offered to help with the preparations for lunch or the cleaning up after breakfast but everything was all under control so we sat down and watched as a few more groups came in.  Just before lunch time four older men came in.  It was their job to wrap the body.  The chairs were moved to make space and everyone stood around singing hymns while they wrapped Mamy in layer after layer of scarves.  This was the hardest part of the whole thing for everyone I think, I know it was the saddest part for me to watch.  Once she was wrapped and placed in the coffin we ate lunch, loaded into cars and buses, and went to the church for the actual funeral service.  The church was packed.  I couldn’t understand a word that was said but it was evident how many people loved Mamy and had been touched by her life.  After the funeral we loaded back into the buses and went to the burial.  Traditionally each Malagasy family will have a tomb and every deceased family member will be placed there.  The tombs are like square mausoleums that then go way down into the ground like a cellar.  Tombs are generally placed on the tops of hills so we rode the vans and buses as far up the hill as we could and the walked the rest of the way after the dirt road got too bad for driving.  Since Tana is so high up in elevation and since it is actually fall here it got really cold as the sun set.  We sang a few more hymns and then the body was placed into the tomb.  Afterwards we walked through the receiving line and said goodbye to the family, Tessa said goodbye to her other friends that were there, we got back on the buses, and made our way back into town.  When we got to our turnoff we got off the bus and, with the help of one of Tessa’s friends who understood the danger of two white girls walking around after dark, found a cab that we had called to meet us and went back to the missionaries' house.  

I know that that long description seems very dry and factual, there was just so much information I guess I didn’t know what else to do with it.  But there was ever so much more to it than I could ever really write about.  

One of my biggest struggles coming here has been not being able to communicate.  I know I said, gee, it’s gonna be really cool to learn how to communicate without words!  But it’s actually really hard.  I like being able to talk to whoever I want to whenever I want to and I can’t here.  Something about the situation of the funeral kind of negated that.  I felt welcomed by Tessa’s friends although it was a sad time there was an element of joy among the people I met, Malagasy people are really good at valuing fellowship. Also I just encountered more english speakers; the missionaries and many of the Malagasy people that I met.  Each night at the missionaries house we would sit around eating dessert and talking and laughing, Tessa and I were always really tired so there was an element of delirium there.  It was really a wonderful time of fellowship.

Also, Tana is a beautiful place, since it is in the hills the drives out of town to the family’s house, and especially out to the tomb, were beautiful!  All in all, despite the sad occasion, it was really a great trip and I know that nothing in this post can do it justice, it was one of those things where the facts lend themselves to writing much more readily than the emotions.  

Watching Grief

I have never been good at seeing, hearing, or watching grief.  Today I was thrown into what I am not good at with a twist.  I went to church with Tessa, tried to sing the songs, followed along with the scriptures, and tried to guess at the main theme of the message based on the passages.  I tried my hand at singing the songs but Malagasy on paper and Malagasy spoken are two rather different things, and it was more just humming the tune.  Near the end of the service one of the guys stood up and made an announcement.  Tessa didn’t understand it enough to translate it but the whole congregation began to cry.  We finally figured out that Mark had received word during the service that his mom, Mamy, had died suddenly in Tana, where Mark is from.  Mark’s dad is a pastor in Tana and Mamy had been very active in connecting the church there with the church here in Toliara.  She had a huge heart for the church here and had done a lot of work with the youth, so they were all very close to her.  Tessa had been very close with their whole family when she lived in Tana last year.  It was so hard to watch the grief of all of those around me and not even be able to tell them how sorry I was with words.  After church as we were all shaking hands all I could do was try to convey with my face that I cared for them in their pain.  Even at home with Tessa, as sad as I was to see her hurting and as much as I wanted to comfort her I could not identify with her pain, not having known Mamy as she did.  I pray that through this God will strengthen my heart for the body of Christ as one whole, pain sharing group.  

Tessa and I are flying to Tana for the funeral.  Please be praying for the family, Mark is just recovering from Typhoid and is on his way to Tana now, he has three sisters, one of whom is about to have her first baby.  Please be praying for the church there and here.  Everyone loved Mamy so much!  One person said, “We have all lost our mother.” 

The Most Beautiful Woman in the World, and other cultural adventures

         Today Tessa and I got up, ate breakfast and set out on foot to the church where we were meeting with one of her story crafting teams.  As we walked out of the gate she looked at me and asked, “Ok Molly, are you ready to be the most beautiful woman ever to walk the earth?” I laughed, having heard her stories and sure enough, as we rounded the corner to the main road, it all began.  The Malagasy word for “white person” is vazaha and there is no stigma in the culture that discourages calling out to a vazaha girl from the side of the road.  While traipsing over the muddy (yet somehow still dusty) roads we were greeted with calls of “Bonjour Vazaha!!” from the men and boys in the various stalls and shops.  There were, of course, some that were much bolder.  These were shouted in Malagasy, unbeknownst to them, Tessa understood every word.  Of these my personal favorite for the day was a teenage boy who saw us and then ran off to his friends yelling, “One of those is my wife!! One of those is my wife!!”  

         There were many times during the day (and I expect this to continue for all of my time here) that I wished I was fluent in Malagasy.  One of the ladies in the story crafting group that we worked with today is a elderly lady whom we call Be-Be, grandma.  Her face is worn but lively, her dialect dated, and her reasoning very culturally illustrative.  As I sat, listening to the conversation and Tessa’s translation this is what I heard.  

Be-Be: Tessa, is it just the two of you in your family?

Tessa: Yes, just us.

Be-Be: OH!! No brothers? (this accompanied by a very sad face) How old is your mother?

Tessa: She is 60

Be-Be: Oh, that is too old for you to have a brother, I will pray that you will get married very soon so that you can have a son, so that your father will not be without a boy.  

I was glad at least that the pressure was on her and not me.

Everyone here who sees me and Tessa side by side think that I am the older of the two.  Tessa is taller but she is just built so small that I suppose I seem older.  They told Tessa over and over that she needed to drink more hot water because it was hot water that would make her grow big and strong (like me).

I am loving soaking all of this in! Today was the first day of the Ruth study with the youth group girls and I think it went really well!  It is a new experience to work with a translator and figure out when to pause to let her talk but I’m still excited about it!  I am praying for a deep love for these girls and that I would see them grow in faith over my time here, and that I would allow them to see me grow as well!  I have discovered though, that late at night when I am tired, or when there is a particularly nasty bug to kill that satan has the chance to tear me down and discourage me.  It was a comfort tonight to sit and have my Abba remind me that all of the thoughts that are pulling me down are not things that He would ever tell me.  My God is not a god of tired, or this is too hard, or my bed in America is softer.  He is a God of new adventures each day and the sustaining power that brings glory to light and is all the strength I need in times of weakness!  And of course on that note I am super excited about tomorrow’s adventure a chance to worship the Sustainer with these faithful believers. 

A little bit about Toliara

Toliara is much smaller than the capital city, Antananarivo, where Tessa has lived for the past two years and where I had visited her.  There are fewer cars and more people travel on foot or bike or in “pouss-pouse” which are the Malagasy equivalent of a rickshaw.  The roads are much wider and the town seems cleaner.  However, poverty is everywhere and there is a fairly obvious gap between the businesses that are here for the wealthy French and those that are here for the everyday resident.  One of my favorite things about coming to Madagascar has always been the color, there is so much of it everywhere!! The people dress in colorful clothes, the buildings are bright, the street vendors all have brightly colored wares, and of course all of the color is reflected by the sun.  As the days pass I will try to pass along any nifty goings ons or dandy pictures that come my way.  Here are a few to get us started.  

A street, those are Pouse-Pouse.

The post office. 

And a little puppy I met while shopping :D

This Is Africa

The missionaries here have an acronym that can only really be understood once you join them, TIA, this is Africa!  My flight today from the capital city, Antananarivo, to Tessa’s city, Toliara, was supposed to leave at 3:30 pm.  We did not board until 4:15.  We tried to leave at 4:45 but, after driving out a bit had to turn around and head back because of some mechanical issue.  We got off and returned to waiting in long rows of hard wooden chairs.  TIA.  While on the plane I had been seated in between an elderly Malagasy man and a man that could have been a French version of Bono, complete with a soul patch, gauges, and shades. Whenever they made an announcement over the PA they first said it in Malagasy - the elderly man responded - then in French - Bono responded  - and finally in English.  I would try to respond but since I couldn’t really understand their heavily accented English I had to just try and mimic what everyone around me was doing.  Luckily cursing sounds about the same in French as it does in English, so Bono was quick to let me know that things were not going well.  Once back in the terminal they announced that it would be another hour and a half and we were free to go to the restaurant and get a bit to eat.  I saw everyone moving but had not understood the announcement, par usual.  I had overheard some English coming from two guys and a girl, probably in their 20’s so I gathered my courage and walked over to the girl, asking if she knew what was going on.  She said she had no idea but “the guys have gone to find out.”  They returned and explained and I said thanks, walked away, and sat down, not planning to go eat.  Tessa would feed me when I go there and I had a granola bar until then.  As they were leaving one of the guys, or we will call him one of the blokes since they were British, came over and asked if I wanted to “join them for beer or something.”  I immediately retreated into American-girl-traveling-alone mode and declined.  I should have accepted, not for the beer, but a bottle of water and the company of some other English speakers would have been nice, and once I said no regretted it.  I realized that there would not have been any danger in it, I wouldn’t have even left the airport.  I might have even had the chance to share Christ with these nice British folks.  I am starting to learn to roll with the punches that Africa sends and welcome the opportunities that they bring.  Of course I will still be plenty careful and not accept the obviously dangerous opportunities that it sends my way, but yeah, just take the chance to experience.  

Later, once they came back from eating I did talk to them a bit, they were coming to Toliara to study and do some sort of smart sounding PHD work.  It was a relief to speak English, more of one than I would expect.  After that we got back on the plane and from there everything ran smoothly.  I can certainly see that language barriers are going to make for some interesting stories.  At the end of flight they passed around these little chocolate candies.  Bono unwrapped it, tasted it and spite it out.  I looked at him questioning and he gave me a look that clearly said “It’s gross, don’t taste it!”  I smiled an “Ok.”  I ate it anyway but that is immaterial, the point was that French Bono and I had a full conversation without talking.  I am really excited about seeing this happen over and over again, and learning new ways to talk to people.  This will be an adventure, This Is Africa!! 

On the flight to Paris- Turbulence out the wazzooo!

This flight started out pretty bumpy....I kinda enjoy turbulence but I really wanted to drink my apple juice and I could never get the cup to my mouth without fear of a disaster that would put my in a very sticky situation for the rest of the flight.  So I pulled out the trusty computer and started writing.  I’ll hold onto this till internet can be found for posting.  I have a feeling by that time it will be kinda long, but oh well, such is life and jetlag.  

Interesting fact, when there is a blog that reminds you of its need to be updated as if it were a three year old that had been promised ice cream and a trip to the zoo the most mundane things of life beg to be recognized as monumental. So, mundane turned monumental thing number one, those little Wisp things that are supposed to act as a toothbrush in the event that you are ruffing it: stay away!  They not only possess way too much minty, it’s the style of minty that really doesn’t deserve to hang out with Crest, Colgate, and the other mouth refreshing big kids.  It’s the kiddy pool minty that will maybe move up in the world...maybe....on day.  But that’s just my mundane opinion turned monumental.  Also, the world seems to get smaller the farther from home you go, I was sitting in the Charlotte airport and bumped into a married couple that I was in a play with last year, Pirates of Penzance cast spread far and wide.  Now they are snoozing in the row next to me and I’m contemplating waking them up and seeing if they wanna stage a little in flight entertainment with me.  Maybe I’ll just save that for the morning and instead try my hand at sharing some deep thoughts, since sleep is eluding me at the moment. 

God has been teaching me about peace and joy these last few days.  It’s one of those lessons you feel like you must have learned as a kid and you don’t need to be reminded of, until you notice that you are worried.  Ever think about the way that God told the heavy ladened to come to Him?  After carrying around my hiking backpack full to the brim all day I am starting to understand the idea of “heavy ladened.”  There is some stuff that I simply can’t do with that bag on my back, like dance.  Can you see someone who is “heavy ladened” handling all their problems while being packed down like a mule?  God didn’t want us to come to Him in our heavy ladened-ness and then keep on solving our problems with our packs on our backs.  When I was little and my dad would pick me up from school he would always take my bag off my back as we walked to the car.  I would think “Gee, that bag is just soo heavy.”  And then in would come daddy and effortlessly pick it up.  That’s what God want’s with His children.  I got to the point that I expected my daddy to take my bag, if he didn’t, well that just wasn’t normal.  I want to learn to rely on God that way.  To the point where if He didn’t come through, well, that just wouldn’t happen.  The last few days before leaving I would wake up all cheery and brighteyed, ok, not true, I would wake up groggy, but in a good enough mood.  And then, as I sat there waking up, satan would throw some thought at me that had the potential to steal my joy and get me grumpy, it was like putting on a heavy pack and then trying to crawl about my day.  It was never anything all that awful, but it was just enough.  After stewing a bit God would get me to pray.  He was teaching me to frankly come and tell Him what was nagging at me, then He would deal with it, He would take my bag.  And joy was back.  I would remember Pastor Russ’ teaching about how the joy of the Lord is manly and strong, it doesn’t have to succumb to satan’s attacks.  Then Psalms would tell me about how God is my fortress and my strong tower and as hard as the enemy may try, he has been defeated and does not have the power to take the joy that God gave.  When we are heavy ladened we are ineffective, whatever your pack is, a bad attitude, worry for people we love, resentment over some wrong, or even the stress of wanting to be better than we are, satan sends packs in all shapes and sizes and if he can weigh you down and keep you from dancing for God, he’s happy.  That’s not what God wants for you!  “If the Son has set you free you are free indeed!!”  Don’t wear around your pack when your Abba wants to effortlessly take it for you.  He want’s to handle it for you and show you how to glorify Him in the situation, let your eyes rest on Him ability to do a mighty work in your worriesome situations and not on your inability to do...well anything.  Abba’s got this!!

And now, perhaps with the help of some cold meds, I will lie to my body and tell it that although it is 10:15pm by my clock, it’s 3am where I’m heading and I need to get all the rest I can before the toast and juice come round in a few hours.  Night Word Document! 

Veloma!!

    Just a quick line to say I’m off, if I can’t find internet in Paris I won’t repost until I’m in the Antananarivo.  Have a great weekend everybody and I’ll see ya on the other side! 

Psalm 118:21-24 (ESV)

I thank you that you have answered me  

   and have become my salvation.
The stone that the builders rejected
   has become the cornerstone.

This is the LORD’s doing;
   it is marvelous in our eyes.
This is the day that the LORD has made;
   let us rejoice and be glad in it.

Psalms 131:3 (ESV)

O Israel, hope in the Lord

   from this time forth and forevermore.

In His might right hand,
    ~Molly

Tomorrow's Tomorrow

Tomorrow’s tomorrow (that would be Friday) is the day that I have been looking forward to and planning for for some time.  It is the third day of the sixth month of the two thousand and eleventh year of our Lord, what a mouthful!  It is also the day that I start taking Malaria fighting meds, to get the little soldiers all stationed in my body before I actually meet the enemy, and the day that I embark on part one of my trip.  A short flight to New Jersey will lead to a longer one to Paris.  Then sleep, kiss mom and dad goodbye, and hop on the plane to Antananarivo, Madagascar, the capital city.  I’ll land there around midnight and stay with one of the missionary families that live there.  In the morning they will take me back to the airport, help me haggle down my over-weight luggage fees, and put me on plane number four to Toliara, the coastal city where I will be living with my sister Tessa for about 6 weeks.  

I wanted to have a place where the pictures and the thoughts and dandy experiences could all be put together.  Well, here it is, the adventure log, my own personal “There and Back Again.” I plan to be very diligent about posting daily or at least every other day.  But I will ask you to remember all of the things you have planned to be diligent about and hand me grace with a knowing smile on the side!

God has given me a lot to munch on these past few days as I have been getting ready for the trip.  He has shown me things that I know I will struggle with while I am there and started to help me prepare to fight these things, its been a blessing to go into the battle knowing some of the enemies weapons.  I would like to ask my brothers and sisters to be praying for humility, a freedom from the language and culture barrier, a deep love for the people of Madagascar, and a willing, moldable, and teachable heart.  One of my mentors told me that every time you go into an area of service or ministry you need to have a set of goals in mind, a vision of what you want to see at the end.  I am going into this trip asking to learn about missions and ministry and to grow deeper in my own walk and love for Christ.  I am also asking to see at least two  people come to faith in Christ.  I don’t have a very clear idea of what this trip is going to look like. I know I will be leading a girl’s bible study on the book of Ruth, so if anyone has any awesome things that God has used that book to teach you please comment and share! 

  Some of these posts will be funny and some serious.  God has been teaching me a lot about the body of Christ lately and I know that I can do no good without my brothers and sisters lifting me up in prayer and encouragement, I’m selfish enough to want each of you involved in this trip!  I am so excited for this adventure that God is allowing me to go on, and with my wonderful, fabulous sister no less!! Thanks for coming with me!!