Refreshment and thanks.

I’m writing this blog post perched on top of the washing machine at the LaBores’ house. I’ve pointed the generator away from me so that the exhaust is not blowing into my face and all is well. Generally speaking, the washer works pretty well, but today it is being somewhat temperamental, requiring me to sit on it to make it go. As I mentioned before, all is well. My parents visited me here in Guyana mid January and that was wonderful.  It was fantastic to have them here. My father walked in to my house and immediately found things to fix to make it more comfortable. He tweaked my toilet so it filled correctly, built me a “real” bucket shower complete with a pulley to lower the bucket so it could be filled at the new faucet he installed, built shelves with Micah, and painted. My mom made herself quite busy too, listening to Micah and Dani and evaluating my teaching. She helped me know where I could aim to have them by the end of my time here and what areas to focus on. Besides all that, it was so good just to talk. I think I talked their ears off that week about all that I had seen, experienced, and learned. They listened and encouraged. It was wonderful. My parents also brought with them a plethora of beautiful foods. Walnuts, almonds, brown rice, granola bars, dried fruit. The first night when we unpacked I was totally overwhelmed and nearly in tears. “For you”, my mom said as I pulled out a big bag of steel cut oats, “for you”, as new t shirts appeared, “for you”, as games and notes from friends and pictures came out. Thank you to everyone who sent the games, stories, pictures, greetings, and teaching aids. I can honestly say everything has been useful. Just last week, when I was out at Blackwater, a women in the church there asked for us to bring some Bible stories along next time so they could teach Sabbath School. As a part of an answer to that query, I plan to take them the Bible picture book Mrs. Braman’s second grade class put together and tell the kids where it came from. Thank you.

While my parents were here we also got the opportunity to travel in Guyana a bit. Besides showing them around Mabaruma, we visited Shell Beach, Kaiteure Falls, and Orinduik Falls. Shell Beach is located about a two hour boat ride from Mabaruma. It is one of the few locations where endangered leatherback turtles come to lay their eggs. Mid January is not turtle season, so we did not see any turtles, but we did have an exciting boat ride out there with “Uncle” Audley. Audley and his son Romeo run the conservation station out at Shell Beach. During the off season they farm the land along the coast, keeping title to the land. During turtle season Shell Beach hosts conservationists and scientists, who come to study and protect the turtles; going on patrols to keep dogs and poachers out of the turtles’ nests. We stayed in one of the almost completed guest houses and had a great time.

Kaieteur Falls is one of the largest single drop falls in the world. We arrived to find ourselves the only visitors in the park. We hiked through jungle to the 3 viewpoints keeping our eyes peeled for the “Cock of the Rock” bird. It is red, apparently rare, and sadly, I know little more about it. We saw a one twice and managed to get a few fuzzy pictures. In contrast, tiny Golden frogs, which live only in the Guianas, were in abundance. They live their whole lives in huge bromeliad plants. One has to walk very quietly up to the plants and peek over the edge to catch a glimpse of the frogs before they dive into the water at the base of the leaves. This activity; sneaking up on the plants and then taking a quick look for frogs, was endlessly entertaining to Micah. Not a plant was left unchecked as we walked around the park. The views of Kaieteur Falls were spectacular. We were able to walk right up to the edge of the gorge and right out to the brink of the falls. Railings? Oh please. Don’t be ridiculous. At dusk we sat on the edge of the falls and watched as swifts dove down into the valley and then circled behind the waterfall to roost for the night. It was incredibly peaceful and beautiful. 

The landscape and foliage of Orinduik Falls were completely different than anything I have seen in Guyana. Located on the savannah, straddling Guyana’s border with Brazil, Orinduik Falls is a series of cascades that tumble over slippery jade rock; the water stopping every once in a while to form pools before it is off over the next drop. The air was dry and instead of green jungle plants everywhere, there was sand and yellow grass. It was odd to have the fabric straps on my sandals stiff again and I think my skin was the driest it has been in four or five months. Again, we were the only visitors and had the place to ourselves as we scrambled over rocks, under waterfalls, and through shallow pools. After our travels in Guyana we returned to Georgetown and my parents boarded a plane back to the US. I returned to Mabaruma to finish out the last four months of teaching having been refreshed and encouraged by my parents’ visit. 

For more on Kaietuer Falls:

http://www.world-of-waterfalls.com/latin-america-kaieteur-falls.html

To see the pictures of our trip click on the photo link at the bottom of this page.

Food Comfort?

I am not exactly sure what I was thinking when I came down here. I knew that I would need to eat, and I knew that most food required time and skill to prepare it, but somehow I did not connect that I would actually be spending some time cooking this year. That food wouldn’t just magically be available for me. Novel thought. Going shopping for the first time with Laura was an awakening. She showed me where I could get beans. Dried beans. I remember putting them into my cart and thinking to myself, “Annika, you are so far from Kansas...” The first time I tried to do something with those dried beans I began with stirring optimism; throwing a bunch of split peas into a pot, adding water, then lighting the stove (which in and of itself was troublesome. Humidity+bad matches=no fire. Sometimes I would go through 10+ matches before I can get one to light-I have since learned that storing them next to the stove helps keep them dried out) and waiting for them to grow soft and delicious. Several hours later the beans, which had been merrily boiling away uncovered, were still very hard. I’d heard somewhere, back in the foggy days when food magically appeared, that beans are supposed to be soaked before they are cooked. So I turned off the heat and tried that. The next morning I heated them up again. Several hours later the beans were still hard. I finally admitted defeat and brought my poor pathetic pot of beans to Jud Wickwire. He put them in a food processor and made hummus out of them. At least we were able to glean something from my foray into bean cooking.

Besides the cooking troubles that stemmed from my ineptitude at creating meals that do not include opening a can at some point, cooking in Guyana also comes with a whole new vocabulary. Chickpeans/garbonzo beans are called channa, eggplant is called balange (“bu” as it is pronounced in “bug” lon-jay), pretty much anything a United States American would call a bean, the Guyanese call a pea. The closest thing they have to green beans here is a long bean pod called bora. Cabbage is still cabbage, there is lots of pumpkin, pineapple is just called pine, if you ask for potatoes don’t be surprised if someone clarifies by querying, “Irish potatoes?” The alternative is sweet potatoes. In terms of me cooking anything though, these have been minor adjustments. Vocab words. The actual cooking of channa, balange, and bora have required much more time to learn then the time it took to learn the names. 

Shundel had picked up on my inability to cook in Guyana-being unable to light the stove was probably her first hint-so the first few weeks (okay, months), if she wanted something decent (and by decent I mean edible) to eat, she cooked. I, of course, wanted so badly to help and felt bad that she was preparing most of our food. So I would insist on making some meals. I’m sure Shundel dreaded those meals. Even the oatmeal I made was bad (gluey). Once I tried making a bean soup, and, wonder of wonders, the beans softened a little-much to my delight. I put in the vegetables thinking that the beans, bora, onion, okra, and carrots would finish cooking about the same time. Nope. The vegetables finished, then became mushy, and the beans were still tough. Shundel graciously ate the meal and only poked a little fun at my beans. We really don’t waste much food, but those beans did not get eaten a second time.

Shundel has been gone for much of December and January. There have been visitors in and out of my house, some have cooked for me, some have helped me cook, some I have cooked for. All in all, I’ve gotten a lot better. Sister Carmen taught me how to make empanadas, Esther Wolfkill and I made a pineapple upside down cake together, Chrystal gave me a recipe book and Laura passed along her bread recipe.  Food doesn’t magically appear out of the kitchen, but it does at least appear in a eatable form. I will appreciate a fridge when I get home, I will appreciate canned food. I will appreciate being able to pull a balanced meal together in 20 min. But, for now, cooking food is becoming comfortable. 

Of Sharon and Other Adventures in Creole

That particular afternoon Shundel and I were searching for a slip for Sister Iris. Sister Iris is quite blind and doesn’t go out. Her bachelor grandson is her primary caregiver and she assured us he knew nothing about buying women’s slips. So we clambered onto a bus and rode down to Kumaka in search of a slip. We poked through some stores and found one we thought would work well. We still had some time and decided to swing by a store we hadn’t visited before (it is always closed when we go to market Tuesday morning) and see if they were open and sold “top up”. The way cell service works in Guyana is like this. One purchases a phone that will work with one of the two cell networks; Digicell or GT&T. Then one loads it with the appropriate networks’ cell phone minutes by purchasing a “credit card” or via top up. A top up machine allows the shop owner to load minutes onto the account associated with your cell number. Top up is cheaper here then the credit cards and so we hoped the store would be open. As we came around the corner we saw the green doors were unlocked and we walked in. Shundel completed her top up purchase and I, in my best Guyanese accent (which sounds like my best Spanish accent, which sounds eerily similar to my best Norwegian accent) said, “Please for a thousand top up?”  The woman behind the counter took my phone number, confirmed “for thousand?” and then loaded my phone. When I got it back I was shocked to realize that I now had four thousand dollars of credit on my phone! 

“Yes, you say “four thousand’,” the women reminded me.

“Oh no! I meant for A thousand!” 

She laughed and laughed and graciously let me come back later to pay the bill. When I returned she told me how she had told all her friends about the white girl who accidentally bought $4000 ($20 US) top up. I am glad I can bring such joy to the hearts of Kumaka’s shop owners. 

One beautiful Sabbath morning I was puffing my way to church under the hot sun carrying a freshly cooked (and still quite warm) pot of rice for potluck. “Hey you Sharon?” The men called out to me as they sat resting in the shade. “Nope!”, I called out, laughing to myself a little. The white ladies here are often mistaken for one another. People have asked me for flights before thinking I was Laura, but I hadn’t met a Sharon yet. Oh well; I went on my way. Later it dawned on me. They weren’t asking if I was Sharon, they were asking if I was sharin’; my pot of rice that is.

Before I came to Guyana, I did not realize how much the words I used to communicate relied on the culture around them. Here, I can use the same words, but because of their cultural context their interpretation is very different. If I were to walk into a shop and ask for a credit card, I would get cell credit. In the States, I would probably just get a puzzled look-"aren't I the one who is supposed to ask YOU for your credit card?" Communication, speaking a common language, relies not just on the words we use but on the experiences we share. The right words, even spoken correctly, can get lost in translation if the experience is missing. As I continue to experience the Guyanese culture, I am able to speak and understand better and communicate more clearly. As I build experiences with the missionaries here we are able to convey ideas more effectively. I think the same thing applies to reading the Bible and talking with God. As we experience God we begin to understand what he is saying more and more. The Bible gains layers and texture when we begin to experience the words for ourselves. Whether buying cell phone credit or conversing with the creator, it pays to spend time experiencing and really learning the language.

The Happenings

I have not posted in a while, I have been quite busy. I think I am giving up on being brilliant in these blog posts and will just be human. The last couple of weeks I have been getting more tired and more busy. On Sunday the 11th after cleaning the house, doing laundry, and finishing lesson plans I wrote a long email to my friend Courtney reflecting on the day and looking forward to the coming week. It was looking full and stressful. The next morning I came back to my home from cooking breakfast for the kids (Laura had to leave early on a medi vac) to find two local boys on my steps, pencils in hand. They were out of school in the morning because they had final exams in the afternoon and wanted to do school with me. I should have asked them to come back when I had something planned for them, but I just tried to integrate them into our school for the day. Just after worship, another boy came, wanting to learn. Woof. I spent that week trying to balance all of the ages, cultures, and learning levels. Everybody learned something, but I mostly wore myself out. On Friday the 17th Esther Wolfkill (fellow WWU student) and another volunteer, Carmen, arrived from another part of Guyana to spend Christmas in Mabaruma. Sabbath we went to Blackwater (small community 1.5 hrs out on the river). Sunday we made cookies with 23 Guyanese children. Monday and Tuesday we all taught the kids. Carmen, bless her heart, took it upon herself to have hot food ready when Esther and I were finished with school each day. Tuesday afternoon the WFH team packed 40 bags with clothes, books, toys, and a little flour to give out for Christmas. We started Christmas break on Wednesday. It was wonderful to spend time with Esther and Carmen and to have a break. Chrystal and I have continued our tutoring in the afternoon but I took a break from doing school with Dani, Micah, and the other boys. Esther and I had a wonderful time talking about our experiences in Guyana, cooking together, and eating tons of food. The time refreshed me and filled me up again. As you remember me, please also keep Esther in your prayers. She is going to begin teaching two classes at Bethany College here in Guyana in January-she is going to rock it, and I know she would appreciate the prayers. She does not have a blog because she does not have ready access to internet. We celebrated Christmas all together with the WFH team by passing out the bags of clothes and food, then gathering at the Wickwires’ for a big Christmas dinner. Esther and Carmen left Thursday and I have returned to homeschooling Dani and Micah. I’m working with the other boys for an hour and a half in the afternoon and then go down to Van Fossens to tutor Alex and Ronny. That about fills up my schedule! December has been good. Busy, but good. I continue to see evidence of God’s care and love and continue to look for ways to reflect that to the people around me. I have no doubt that your holiday seasons were busy as well, thank you for your holiday wishes and your prayers.

Rules are mostly meant to be broken...

"Rules are mostly meant to be broken and are too often for the lazy to hide behind."

-Douglas MacArthur

I have always felt some comfort in rules. If things follow rules they can be understood. I could ask myself, “why am I feeling sick?” and my mind would answer, “because you stayed up too late and had too much sugar.” Fine. The sickness is boxed, controlled by some rules and acting as it should. It is not scary, I understand it. I know what to do to fix it. If I sleep more and don’t eat sugar I will get better. At home, I used to comfort myself with thoughts like “there can’t be a poisonous spider there, there aren’t any that live in this climate” or “this is safe to eat, there are standards about how these things are processed”. De facto, my practice was to take fear, add the right knowledge, and watch the fear melt away. It worked pretty well as long as the amount that I learned about the world that dismissed my fears kept up with the amount I learned to fear. 

Here in Guyana there is less system and the rules are a little less known. There could well be a bushmaster in the thicket-no one really knows. The peanut butter may or may not be safe to eat. No one tests the water for harmful amounts of lead or mining run off. Call 911 and the ambulance will be here soon? Good luck. The rules are not always followed or just plain don’t exist. Before coming here I tried to fight it. I researched and read all that I could about Guyana, hoping the stuff my brain with all the “right” pieces of information to combat the fears I knew I would encounter. I tried to learn everything I could so I would always know what to do. Fortunately, that didn’t work. The information has not been enough offset the fears.

Since coming here, I have had fears here that I can not logically dismiss and so I must have faith. This is freeing. Instead of trusting in my own knowledge I can now trust in the knowledge of an all knowing God. We have not been called to live in fear. Knowing a God of love, our actions, decisions, and interactions can not be fear based. We have been called to live by faith and, knowing a God of love, our actions, decisions, and interactions must be faith based. Not foolish, not rash, but trusting in the love and knowledge of an all-knowing God.