Katie's Tales From Mozambique

2009-03-28T20:26:00.000-07:00

Back to California

2008-07-29T12:53:00.000-07:00

Sitting in my car stopped at a red light, my car suddenly began to shake violently. Within a few seconds, many thoughts whizzed in and out of my brain. Here was my thought process: "Hoodlums are jumping on my car!" but looking outside and seeing no one, my next thought was, "Did I accidentally lock someone in my trunk? No, that's silly Katie. But could someone have crawled in to play a joke? No, they would have been in there for a long time." Once I decided that no, no one was laying in my trunk shaking the car I thought, "My tires! All of them have exploded at once! Crap- this is going to be expensive." I looked around at the other cars thinking that they would tell me that yes, indeed all my tires had exploded, but no one was looking at me which I found strange since my car was clearly bouncing all over the place. "Well I guess it's not all about me but seriously, these people should notice the strange things happening to my poor little Jetta right now." I've seen one too many action movies and my next thought was, "maybe my car is about to explode!" Thus I quickly hit the hazards, ripped off my seat belt, threw open the door and jumped out. That's when the lady in the car behind me calmly said, "It's an earthquake." Oh. Shoot. I look like an idiot. Why isn't anyone else freaking out right now then? And why are you so calm lady? I quickly got back in, turned on the car and sped off.

Back to California living. Back to sunny, crowded beaches, traffic jams, Golden Spoon frozen yogurt, and EARTHQUAKES. It's been almost 2 months since I left Africa and I am slowly readjusting to life in California. Strangely, some days I feel like I never left- like Africa is a distant dream. But then I am reminded in small ways that I will forever be marked by Mozambique. I've yet to suffer from the inevitable "reverse culture shock" but that is most likely because I've been bouncing around with too many fun things going on to get down and depressed like I am apparently supposed to be:) What have I been doing in California since I've been back?

Well, I've caught up with old friends and played in the mud with Emma and her friends at Glen Ivy Day Spa.

I've relaxed with the fam at one of my favorite spots in the world: Bass Lake.

I've hung out in Palm Desert for one of the funnest weddings ever.

And I've met and started coaching my team at Valley Christian High School.
FYI, the girls in the front our Japanese exchange students of some of my players. I will always love speaking with people from other nations so I had been talking with them/acting out things to them and they wanted a picture with the team after one of our games. We are missing a few girls in this pic, one of which was being rushed to the ER at the moment because she broke her ankle.

Driving home from our game last night, I was overwhelmed by just how good God has been to me. Not just because we won- which we did in sudden-death overtime- but because I can see how His plans are so much better than mine. I honestly don't think I would have ended up at Valley if God hadn't first brought me to Africa. Little did I know that my year spent at CAM was preparing me for the next stage of life. I am so thrilled to be coaching at Valley and God knew it would be a perfect fit but also knew that I would be stubborn about teaching at a Christian school since I've always loved public schools so much. My friend Marcie at OC put it this way:

It always amazes me how God works...who would have thought He would use Mozambique to do all the things He has done??? I love how He knows your love of other cultures and places so it was like He was saying, "Okay...I know Katie will be at Valley teaching English in 2008....what's the coolest way to get her to that point...the one that will give her great joy and get her ready for that new role? Mozambique!!"

So as I zoomed in and out of lanes along the freeway last night, still relishing our win and how fun my team is, I was reminded yet again of what a great God I serve. Why do I often doubt His love, His wisdom, and His ways? He knows me better than I know myself- knows what is best for me and how I can best be used by Him. So when I do question Him in the future (which, being somewhat of a skeptic is bound to happen), I hope I look back and remember how He led me to Africa to lead me to Valley Christian. I hope I remember that His plans are good, even if I don't always understand them.

As a believer who often doubts, I have often found solace in Psalm 77. The author first talks about crying out to God and feeling like God is not there, not listening, not responding. So he begins to doubt and question:

"Will the Lord reject forever? Will he never show his favor again? Has his unfailing love vanished forever? Has his promise failed for all time? Has God forgotten to be merciful? Has he in anger withheld his compassion?

Then I thought, "To this I will appeal: the years of the right hand of the Most High." I will remember the deeds of the LORD; yes, I will remember your miracles of long ago. I will meditate on all your works and consider all your mighty deeds. Your ways O God, are holy. What god is so great as our God? You are the God who performs miracles; you display your power among the peoples..."

And he goes on to recount many of the miracles God has performed for His people. I love this example of what to do when God seems distant or silent or His ways seem confusing. Continue to cry out to Him, ask those tough questions, but then REMEMBER. Remember what He has done in the past. Remember what He has promised and how He has already fulfilled many of those promises. Remember how He has provided. Remember times when He has been close and times when He has poured out His blessings. Remember how His plans have always been better than mine. And after remembering, trust.

This will be last and final post on this blog. I have missed coming to it and had to write just one more entry. Thanks for reading and being interested in what God has been doing in my life and in Mozambique.

Final Farewells

2008-06-08T10:11:00.000-07:00

One thing I have in common with Lloyd Christmas is that we both hate goodbyes. And yes, that is ALL we have in common- the similarities stop there. (If you're asking yourself, "who is Lloyd Christmas?" please understand that my roommate Jenny and I watched Dumb and Dumber at least 15 times our freshman year since the only other movie we had was Beaches. Jim Carey was Lloyd.) Whenever I say goodbye to someone, I feel the need to say, "See you tomorrow, soon, in a few days, next week, in a few months, later,...you get the idea." So the goodbyes I've been saying recently are quite difficult because for most people I don't know if I will ever see them again...on earth. And saying, "I'll see you in heaven" just sounds morbid but it is true- for many of the people I've met in Mozambique, I most likely won't see them again which makes saying goodbye very difficult. There are several people that I most certainly will see again and will definitely stay in contact with, but for others, this is it. This final week in Mozambique has been one packed with farewells and "last moments." (this is the last time I will do this, eat this, look at this...) Here is a recap of my last week in Mozambique.

It began on Friday night with a Brazilian-style BBQ in which most of my new friends showed up and I was reminded yet again what amazing community God provided for me here. Here are the faces of the people God used this year to comfort, entertain, challenge, and uplift me. First, my girls. These 5 little ones are all so precious and it was so adorable this night when they all were lying on my bed watching Babar. (do you remember the beloved elephant?)Next is Cecelia and her children- Oliver, Viktor and Elvira (their dad, Par couldn't make it). Cecelia is Henrik's sister who I've often run with, gone to "African dance" with and enjoyed many interesting conversations with over meals. I love her kids and will greatly miss this family. Sometimes I accidentally pose like a mannequin. This was one of those times.In the back of this shot is Mateus, a hilarious German missionary. Tony and Leila are next to him- I got to meet them in CO before moving to Mozambique and instantly liked them. Mrs. Meyers is next to me- I hope I have as much energy as this fabulous woman when I am her age! I was terrified of her at first because she has a very strong personality but grew to value her friendship and wisdom and loved all our conversations. Below Mrs. Meyers is Bev- the art teacher at CAM. We were just saying today that it is such a shame we are both a bit shy around people we don't know at first. She is incredible and I appreciated her thought-provoking questions like "Could suffering be considered a gift from God?" her joyfulness, wisdom, devotion to Christ and laughter.
Unfortunately I didn't meet Mark, Julia and their girls Hannah and Emma until a few weeks ago but I so enjoy their company- they are absolutely hilarious and fellow Lost fans.
I was constantly bumming rides from the Bowers and Millers and have Cory Bowers in class as well as Kimberly Miller. One thing I loved about teaching at CAM was seeing my kids outside of the classroom and getting to know their families on a personal level. Yes, my awkward fist returned.
A sign of true friendship: a willingness to make yourself look horrific in pictures. So blessed by these two! Judith and Lisa are the friends I went to Cape Town with over Christmas break.
Finally, the two people I see the most and will greatly miss- Madalena and Henrik. My living situation here has been absolutely wonderful. I've lived with a fabulous roommate and have had a side-splitting crack-up for a neighbor who is willing share his dog with me.
The day after the BBQ, the OC team planned a farewell getaway and we all drove to a beautiful beach called Bilane. It was an incredibly relaxing time on the white sand beach, wading in the crystal water and enjoying a feast for a picnic. We played Frisbee golf and I discovered that I'm really bad at throwing a Frisbee. I'm not sand-bagging. Six-year old Rafa nearly beat me. My right arm is actually still quite sore. Pathetic.

This team has been family this year and I will miss each member.
On Sunday, I went to Shiparango for the last time. Mada translated for me as I told them how God has spoken to me through them; how He has revealed that He is bigger than I imagined and offers joy and peace in even the most remote areas. I thanked them for letting me worship with them, play with their children and learn with them. Mada's sermon that morning had been about the party we are all invited to in heaven and so I told them that most likely I would not see them on earth again but oh the day of the party- it will be quite a celebration! One of the men responded by giving me a message to bring back. He said, "Tell others about us. Tell them how we too love God and are not turning back to our old ways but are moving forward." Wow. Consider yourself informed:) During the service, I sat on the mat between one woman clearly suffering from AIDS with giant welts all over her body. (I noticed her glancing at the eczema on my own legs) The woman on the other side of me was breast-feeding for most of the service and I remember sitting there thinking, "Thank you LORD for bringing me here. Thank you for opening my eyes."

Here is a brief clip of the last song I heard sung in Shiparango.

This was the last time I heard Mada bang the rock on the metal shield to call the people to church. The little boy and Lucia were the first 2 to arrive.

Some of my favorite people in the world.

The children of this village have forever changed my life and perspective. The boy on my immediate left, Lorenzo, is one of my favorites. When I first met him, he had a huge bloated belly but now he is looking MUCH better!
On Monday I did my last and final run with Gizmo. It was the last time he would pull my arm out of the socket chasing a stray dog, the last time I would run along the Maputo ocean, the last time we would chase terrified, screaming children. I brought my camera to commemorate the final run so I'll never forget this route I've come to love running with this dog that I may have an unhealthy attachment to.

I love the picture on the left because you can see a woman in the distance walking with a basket of fruit on her head. I was in my "alias-mode" and was trying to be tricky taking pictures of people without them knowing. I stopped on a bench and hid behind a palm tree while I took the picture of the woman. Then later I passed by the crazy old homeless man who lives on my running route. I really wanted a picture of him so I stopped to "tie my shoe" and pretended to take a picture of myself but really was aiming for him. You can't see him that well but you can see my "sneaky face."

On Tuesday Lisa and I had our final sleepover. We went to Mundos (the most popular spot for ex-pats) and ordered our favorite meals. Then we went home to make the Brazilian treat, brigadeiros. We don't have a lot of experience in the kitchen. We'll never live down the time we were babysitting and had to Google "how to make popcorn." The brigadeiros are supposed to come out like little chocolate balls covered in sprinkles. Ours were more like pancakes. They were still delicious though and we had a little too much fun making them. Here is step 1: butter your hands.
The pictures tell the story.

The only thing missing from these pictures is all the squeals of laughter. After finishing making the brigadeiros, we still were hyper and decided to go toilet-papering. Yes, we are college graduates and decided to toilet paper in Africa. We put on our disguises and toilet papered Henrik's porch and had a blast. We even toilet papered Rambo's leg. (No Lubito did not come back to life. Simba was sold so Henrik got Rambo to keep Gizmo company)

The next morning, Mada made us delicious pancakes and a very tired Henrik joined us. I am going to miss the conversations and laughter with these new friends so much. Here are my kids from Tuesday when we played the review game for the last time.

Wednesday was the last day of school as well as graduation. Here I am with the graduating class: Neel and Natasha. Love these kids. Thursday was my final day full of goodbyes. I said goodbye to our empragada Teresa who I will really miss although we never could really talk. I said goodbye to our bible study group whom I have appreciated so much. We went to the Meat Co together as my last meal with them. Yes, Philip is asleep and wearing a cape. I love it.

There is so much I will miss about my life here. I will miss the continent, the country, the culture and the community. One of my last times driving into the city, we were met with a beautiful scene which seemed prophetic of what my future will be like- what all of our futures will be like.
There is definitely going to be rain in my life, and not just drizzle; it will pour. However, from a different perspective, it is clear that in the midst of the rainstorm, there is a rainbow. I might not be able to see it all times but I know that God's promises are with me always and His beauty is there in the midst of the storm.

Worship in Shiparango

2008-06-05T17:41:00.001-07:00

Trav and Emma's pictures

2008-05-31T05:14:00.000-07:00

I realize this has nothing to do with my "tales from Mozambique" but I need to take a moment and brag about my family. I just looked at Trav and Emma's engagement pictures and they are INCREDIBLE! I knew that Rachel, the photographer, was amazing but I was super impressed by the pictures and couldn't help but think, "Wow. My brother and future sister-in-law are remarkably attractive." The bunch of these amazing pictures are posted on Rachel's blog which you can access by clicking here and then clicking on the "blog" button and scrolling down to find Trav and Emma.

I looked at the pictures while at school and I confess I grew a bit self-conscious. Glancing down I noticed a big stain on my khaki ankle-length "missionary skirt" which makes me trip all the time. I had on my very comfortable but very uncool according to my sister, hiking sandals and was sporting the classic french braid. As I looked the model joining our family I couldn't help but think, "Crap. I am not ready for the OC again." One thing I have loved about living in Africa is the freedom from the competition and pressure to look nice that I feel in California. Some of you may be thinking- "Katie sure doesn't dress like she's trying to compete with the fashion gu-rus of the OC." And you're right- I don't try to compete but there is definitely a noticeable difference in my attitude about my appearance. It's been so freeing to be here and not care at all how I look- I haven't blow-dried my hair in over a year and I wear the same plain out-fits over and over again-it's been great. I hope this attitude sticks with me when I return to California.

Turning 26 with lions

2008-05-24T05:03:00.000-07:00

I have truly had a remarkably blessed life. I have an amazing family and fabulous friends and therefore I've always been made to feel quite special on my birthdays. I've enjoyed many pool parties, slumber parties, toilet papering outings, and scavenger hunts. Some reoccurring items at a typical party included a pinata, banana splits AND cake, cheesy games my dad invented like "who can balance the Squeeze-It bottle on their head the longest," balloons, laughter and fun. When we first moved to Brea, I was just turning 5 and hadn't met anyone yet so my parents invited thee ENTIRE neighborhood. In 3rd grade, my friend Megan and I who is a week younger than I, planned a joint party- we skipped school, puffy painted matching teal shirts, dawned our ultra-cool fanny packs and ran around Disneyland with our moms and 2 other friends for the day. Another memorable birthday was shortly after college when my friends from Westmont called up my friends from high school and we ate an incredible meal in the kitchen of a restaurant, singing "God Bless America" at the top of our lungs. Very surreal.

This year was the first year I was not surrounded by my family on my birthday, well my blood family- I was with my brothers and sisters in Christ. The OC Mozambique team went to Johannesburg, South Africa for a long weekend in order to join the OC South Africa team in saying farewell to the Carlson family who have been the Africa Area directors for a super long time and are moving to Colorado. The Carlsons are an amazing and hilarious family who I got to know a bit in December during our retreat and I also was super excited because I got to stay with the Witherow family. I had met them at the retreat and then when I came home for Christmas, they picked me up in the sketchy bus station and let me stay with them and then took me to the airport. I bonded with their three very fun boys while bouncing on the trampoline and feel incredibly welcome and at ease in their home. I was thrilled to spend my birthday evening with them. The boys had even baked me a cake and helped me with the candles:)

I had a blast with the boys and Heather is such an encourager- I was so glad I got to spend more time with this amazing family before leaving Africa.Yes, it is May I am wearing a scarf. The seasons are opposite from the States so it is almost winter and Joburg gets FREEZING!! I can't remember a time I've been colder.

One thing I really wanted to do while in Joberg was visit the lion park. We drove through the park in a caged truck and it was absolutely amazing to see lions so close. I must admit that it wasn't the same as seeing animals in Kruger because here these are fed and not really in the "wild" so it had a bit of a zoo feeling. The lions are definitely still "wild"though- the guide pointed out the lion which a few years ago killed 2 tourists who tried to pet it. Also, in Kruger one could rarely, if ever, get so close to the lions and watch a bunch of cubs nursing so there is no way I could ever get lion pictures in Kruger like I did here. I took a ton of pictures- here are my favorites:

The first ones we saw are "White lions" and actually can't survive in the wild because of their light color. The male was recently used in a movie.

These lions were in the next area. The males have to be separated.

And I thought my cat had attitude...

Sometimes I have staring contests with random kids when their parents aren't watching. (didn't mean for that to sound so creepy) I also do this with animals sometimes. I don't really know why but I feel the need to create competition all the time. I always win these competitions. However, I chalked up my first loss with the gal on the left. She was a fierce competitor and was staring so intently and I didn't want our truck to get attack so I averted my eyes.

Sure I prefer to be with my family on my birthday but hanging out with lions was cool too:)
Learned something new and random about lions: they like to spoon. Weird.Probably my favorite part of the journey through the park was when we went off-roading to closely observe this odd family. Although the males usually are all separated, these two are brothers and formed a "coalition" according to the guide. I admit that I'm a bit saddened that polygamy happens in the wild. The two females seem to get along great though.

We showed up just in time for family bath time.

Loved this spunky lil fella. Also, who knew that male lions grew arm pit hair? Odd.

In Kruger, it is considered a huge treat to see a lion sitting in the far distance. I've craned my neck out of cars, strained my eyes through the binoculars and have felt very lucky to even catch a glimpse of a lion sitting in the shade. So being able to park our car right next to these beautiful animals and watch them do more than sit, was a wonderful birthday present. The next picture is my favorite:Next, we were able to pet the lion cubs! Heather warned me not to touch their heads and to pet them hard because they claw you if you touch their head and might mistake your hand for a fly if you don't pet hard. Armed with my "lion-petting tips" I approached the little guy on the left and when he batted at my hand at first I confess that I jumped back and felt like a chicken. These kitties aren't exactly declawed so I feel justified in my wussy behavior.

Lastly, we dropped by to feed the giraffes. Sounds neat huh? By far thee grossest thing I have ever done. I was expecting him to eat the food out of my hand like a horse does. As I was sticking my hand out to offer the snack, a vague memory flashed in my mind of reading that giraffes have incredibly long tongues... I don't get grossed out easily- in fact I usually enjoy looking at some things that others may label as "nasty." But when the giraffe's incredibly long, rough and black tongue wrapped around my entire hand, I almost gagged. I was hoping to get cute pictures of me feeding a giraffe...It did not happen. The others had a great time laughing at me thoroughly disgusted.
This wasn't intended to be one of my "ugly faces" pictures. This is a genuine look of horror and disgust.Can you see the long string of drool stretching from his mouth to my hand? Not cool Geoffry. Not cool.

Overall, it was a wonderful birthday. When I returned to my home in Maputo, I opened the door to my room and was very confused to find the following:

My friends Lisa and Judith had broke into our house (ok, used a spare key) while we were gone to decorate my room with banners, balloons, paper chains and streamers. (aka toilet paper) I've left most of it up because it is so festive and fun. My friend Lisa reminds me a lot of my friend Lesley from home. They both are super smart, have similar mannerisms, are incredibly considerate and know how to make their friends feel special, especially on their birthday. With no way to call me, many of my friends who are very talented vocal artists, were unable to leave their usual beautiful messages. (sarcasm noted?) However, Lesley found a way around this obstacle. I highly recommend you check out her awesome performance:

Lesley's performance

I definitely felt very special and very loved on my birthday, despite being thousands of miles away from my family and "home friends." Having such wonderful friends is not only a blessing, it is a necessity to make strides in my walk with Jesus. I've been learning a lot about accountability this month. It seems to be a common theme lately and I feel like perhaps the Lord is trying to tell me something. The first mention of the importance of accountability was brought up at Bible study. We were finishing Ezra and discussing the importance of repentance and why on earth Ezra listed the names of all the men who had sinned by marrying foreign wives. Our conclusion was that it was a record for the sake of accountability. This led to a great discussion about how to hold our friends accountable and how after we repent of something to the LORD, we should also repent to a friend who can hold us accountable. We compiled a list of questions we could continually ask our friends to make sure we were on the right path. Here are a few of them:

1. Are you justifying any sins? / What justifications are you using?
2. Is there anything or anyone drawing you away from God?
3. What did God do in your life last week?
4. What did you spend most of your time thinking about today?
5. What have you been learning through the scriptures?
6. Is there anything going on in your life right now that you wouldn't want anyone to know about? / Is there anything you are trying to hide?
7. Is there anything you are placing in front of God?
8. Are you doing anything unwise?
9. Are you putting off repenting of anything?
10. Have you just lied?

Then I read a passage from Teresa of Avila about pursuing a virtuous life which reads, "...that is why it is very important for us to associate with others who are walking in the right way. Those who have drawn close to God have the ability to bring us closer to him, for in a sense they take us with them."

Next, I came across Proverbs 13:20 "He who walks with the wise grows wise, but a companion of fools suffers harm."

Finally, I listened to a sermon by Mike Erre about how we should live in light of our new identity in Christ. He talked about the disputable "grey areas" in life when we sincerely don't know if something is outside of God's will. (ie- movies to watch, what music we listen to, drinking, etc) He provided a grid to use when deciphering how to act in the "grey areas" which is to ask oneself the following questions:

1- Does is bring dishonor to God's name?
2- Does it compromise my witness or give the appearance of evil?
3- Will I be mastered by this? Is it enslaving?
4- Does it hinder my relationship with Jesus?
5- Does it cause another to stumble?
6- Is it true, noble, admirable, excellent or praiseworthy?

After running the questionable issue through that grid, it is essential that we are also living in community and can ask for our friends' opinions. It is incredibly easy to justify and rationalize everything in our heads which is why we must have accountability if we truly want to live a life pleasing to God.

When I think of birthdays, I will always think of my family and friends. God has showered me with incredible people who make me not only feel special, but hold me accountable and point me on towards the right way.

May Day

2008-05-17T08:36:00.000-07:00

I've always loved the month of May. I love all the blooming flowers and the wonderful California weather and the fact that summer is just around the corner. This May has been unlike all the past Mays because I'm in Africa and winter is around the corner so on some weekends I'm wearing sweatshirts and drinking hot chocolate instead of reading by the pool getting a tan. Also, I'm going through this odd transition period of life which I haven't experienced before. It's called the "detachment stage." I didn't realize it had a name until Mada gave me a little booklet to prepare me for the mean mess of reverse culture shock coming my way in a few months. Here's a snippet of what the book says about the detachment phase:

"We now have adjusted to the job and to missionary life. Our work has become a part of us and may even become mechanical. We begin to count the days before that needed home leave. We push to finish the projects we've begun, and try not to get involved in new ones. A search begins to find someone to take up our ongoing responsibilities. Socially we don't want to make new friends, which may result in withdrawal. Because it is hard to say goodbye, we may start the process of detaching ourselves from the culture, the people and the mission. Certain factors about the culture may begin to bother us again. We can hardly wait to get on the plane for home. These months can be a confusing time if, as first-term missionaries, we struggle with guilt and rejection. Looking back we may see mistakes we've made and wish we had done many things differently. Comparing prior expectations with what actually happened we may feel a sense of loss. Feeling of guilt about leaving with no replacement nag at us. This stage can be an unsettling patch in the zone."

Unsettling is a perfect word. I read this and at first I denied that I was experiencing any of it but I am. All of it. My job is easy and mechanical for me, I am counting the days til Europe, I don't feel like starting new projects at school or making new friends. I regret that I didn't do more, invest more, be more influential and I definitely feel awful about leaving CAM in such a tumultuous time for the school with almost no new teachers on the horizon. I have been detaching myself from the culture and am easily irked by the hissing men, the constant stares, the inefficiency,the communication barrier, and that crazy obnoxious, incessant nails-on-a-chalkboard sound of sweeping around every corner. (In the mornings the night guards keep themselves entertained by sweeping the fallen leaves with the palm brooms which makes an incredibly irritating sound. Our guard was sweeping right outside my window at 5 am the other day and I yelled in fast English so he could hear but not understand, "Please stop that stupid stupid, pointless sweeping- it is driving me crazy!!!" He didn't stop.)

Do I sound a mess or what? I was so relieved to read that such feelings were normal and after the initial sense of relief, I decided to try to fight against some of these inevitable traits of the detachment phase. I've tried to limit my eye-rolling when men hiss to get my attention but I just can't- it's plain annoying. To combat becoming a recluse, I've enjoyed several fun outings with friends and even met a new Brit/Kiwi family who I enjoy so much. I met them at Judith's birthday dinner which was especially memorable when I dug out the eyeball of my fish and Rebecca ate it! The next night Henrik had a delicious Brazilian BBQ at his place with the Brit/Kiwi family, a German missionary and some Swedes. We had a hilarious conversation about how animal sounds are not always universal. For instance, in Sweden a pig says, "noff" instead of "oink," a dog says "vov vov" instead of "ruff ruff" and a rooster says "ku cke li ku" instead of "cock-a-doodle-doo." After enjoying two dinners with my new friends, I had to admit that I was disappointed because I had met them so late and will have such little time with them.

I'm still counting down the days until Europe and can't wait for home but I forced myself not to throw in the towel at school and planned two more units and accepted the job of planning all the activities for the school picnic. This turned out to be a huge blessing and the day was one of my highlights in Africa. I drove with the Bower family to the compound outside of the city where one of the missionary families lives. After some delicious BBQ, I grabbed the megaphone and the games began. Sometimes I can be incredibly introverted. I'll never forget when I told my history advisor at Westmont that I wanted to be a teacher and he said, "Reeeally?" I responded with, "It's OK Dr. Pointer. I actually do have a personality. I've just never showed it in class." Put a megaphone in my hand and the introvert goes into hibernation. Most of the kids from the school were at the picnic with their families so I put the kids all onto 4 different teams and explained the rules to the first relay. The following are a bunch of pictures from the festivities that day. I love these pictures because they capture expressions on the kids' faces other than just smiles. The first shot is a stampede of kids running for their shoes in a giant pile. I named the next relay, "CapulanaSpin" because each member had to put on a capulana which is a piece of material Mozambican women use as skirts, and then they had to spin and run around their teammate.

Next, another classic relay: eat 2 crackers, show the judge your clean mouth, get a piece of gum and then blow a bubble. Unfortunately I bought gum that was nearly impossible to blow a bubble with but it still worked out and was hilarious to watch kids struggle to eat crackers quickly.

Next, the relays involving water:The following pictures come from one of the funniest relays to watch. Kids had to run with their cheeks full of water and spit as much water into the pitcher their judge was holding. Neel mastered this technique as you can see in the picture.Don't these pictures just look odd?

I think the highlight of the games had to be the egg toss. I couldn't find water balloons but eggs turned out to be a perfect substitute. Look closely at all the different facial expressions and try to see the egg they're catching. In the first one Orlando has his classic look of concentration and focus. This kid is incredibly competitive at everything and is at the top of the class. His sister, Charlene, insisted on wearing the capulana to protect her clothes. Notice one of the eggs went past one of the catchers? This is one of my favorites because you can see Varita's egg breaking in her hands in the background.
Despite her cradling technique, the egg exploded in Natasha's hands when she caught it.
This might be my favorite shot from the day; egg exploding all over Stephen's face:)
After the games and prizes, we moved onto the volleyball pit and played girls vs. boys. Here I am with my lovely girls.
I am by no means a volleyball expert. In fact, on the first day of Volleyball PE class at Westmont, the coach said, "Gosh Katie, I thought you'd be better." Gee thanks for the vote of confidence coach. In my defense, basketball requires different movements and I had never really played volleyball. With my limited knowledge however, I decided to teach the girls how to bump, set and serve (we weren't quite ready for the spike) because we kept losing and my crazy competitive nature was creeping out. Here Jenny stands in ready position- doesn't she look tough? She is super sweet but can give some of the craziest dirty looks when she's mad.

I'd like to say I blocked Andrew's spike but judging by the amount of "air" I'm getting, it's doubtful.The day of the picnic also was the day of my brothers' college graduation. I was bummed I couldn't be there to support them and was thinking a lot about them- especially as I played with the hilarious twins, Ahok and Mafat.
Each brother is very different from his twin but both sets have a unique and special bond that seemingly only twins can have and they all crack me up.

Despite missing my brothers, this was one of my favorite days in Mozambique. I've come to know my students on a level that is impossible with giant classes and love hanging out with them and their families. I know that I will miss these kids dearly once I'm gone and I'm so thankful for this sort of "last whoorah" before I leave.

Ariel was an idiot

2008-05-06T05:09:00.000-07:00

I confess that on the first drive through the streets of Maputo, I was a bit disappointed. When I had first decided to move to Mozambique, I pictured myself living in a lush, rural area with dirt roads and open skies; running past monkeys swinging in trees and lines of grass huts, exploring trails along a white sand beach with a crystal clear ocean. Surely a combination of books and movies formed this image in my mind and even upon learning that I would be living in the capital city, the image of my life in Maputo was one in a quiet, peaceful, naturally beautiful area. Thus, as we drove through the congested streets of downtown Maputo all those months ago and I was coughing from the smog, squinting from the dirt in the air, cringing from the trash overflowing onto the streets, gagging from the stench of human urine and garbage, and searching for a piece of sky somewhere between the dirty high-rise buildings, I immediately had to come to terms with the fact that my expectations would not be reality. Don't get me wrong- I have come to love my somewhat smelly city:) It is colorful, vibrant, full of culture and beauty in unexpected places. Instead of passing by monkeys, huts and clear ocean water, I pass by laughing children, animated conversations, smiling women selling their veges and toothless old men giving me the thumbs up. It is not what I expected but it is beautiful in its own way and I truly love it. That being said, last weekend I drove with a group of friends about 6 hours north and ended up inside of my dream version of Mozambique. My Swedish neighbor, Henrik had planned this rondevu to Tofo (pronounced "Tofu") so me, Henrik and Lisa drove with Cassia and her two kids and met up with 4 American girls who were friends of Henrik. As we bobbled along the dirt road headed towards Tofo, we passed a tree with no less than 25 young boys sitting on the branches of a huge tree, all watching a soccer match below. It was at that point that I knew I was going to love this side of Mozambique.

We rented two houses just a few yards away from small "grass-hut communities" which both overlooked the aqua ocean. We were without some of the luxuries we enjoy in Maputo and were graced with plenty of roaches, but the clean air, open sky and amazing coast line more than made up for any of the "shortcomings" in the Mozambique of my dreams. When we arrived, we immediately began exploring the breath-taking surroundings and ended up eating lunch/dinner (linner??) at a restaurant right on the beach. I'll never live down my blond moment of the evening when Lisa told me that people from Whales were originally from China and I believed her. Yes, I taught geography and molded young minds.

On the first full day, I took a scuba class along with Stephen, Cassia's 10 year old son, so we could go on our first dive in the ocean later that day with everyone else. (Lisa, Henrik and Jen, one of the girls we met up with, were already certified) We practiced breathing underwater in a deep, murky pool and pretty soon I had adjusted to wearing a weight belt, knew how to adjust my vest to go make myself buoyant and I felt like I had gills. I didn't really have the option to ever be nervous since I was taking the class with a 10 year old and while our instructor was busy with another class, Stephen and I played, "find the hidden candy wrapper at the bottom of the pool." After enjoying a leisurely afternoon at "Tofo Scuba," and eating the tastiest panini of my life (I ate a total of 5 of these in 3 days), we suited up to prepare for our ocean dive. Here is our fearless squad wearing our super cool wetsuits. Yes, I am sporting a good ol' fashioned french braid which nearly killed me. (story to follow)Can you feel any dorkier while wearing a snorkel? I suggest that you cannot.

After some serious struggling, we pushed a little zodiac out into the ocean and headed out for the open sea. Our instructor had never taught Stephen and I how to actually get into the water so we gave each other a scared look when he said, "OK, hold onto your weight belt with one hand and your mask and regulator (thing you breath out of) with the other and flip into the water." Yeah buddy- how bout you teach us that first. It ended up being a piece of cake and actually quite fun- I've always seen them doing it in the movies and wanted to try. Stephen and I were the only "non-certified divers" so the instructor insisted on taking us down individually. This meant that everyone went down to the bottom and the instructor took Stephen down and said, "You'll be fine up here for a bit yeah?" Ummm...sure. Did I mention there were huge waves at the time? The boat had left and as everyone made their descent to the depths of the sea, I clung to a buoy for dear life and then tried to adjust my braid because it was hindering my mask. Suddenly I was slapped in the face by a huge wave, my mask came flying off and my arm nearly was pulled out of the socket because of my kung-fu grip on the buoy. I was clearly struggling. Apparently, during my mini-freak out a giant whale shark was swimming right past. I was too busy trying to stay alive but the divers already under the water got to see this amazing beast and yes, I was teensy bit envious although I still got to see many amazing things. Once the instructor came back up, he must have noticed my panic-stricken face and assured me it was much calmer under the water. He was right. I was glad.

I've always loved snorkeling because you can peek at this mysterious, wondrous, beautiful hidden world in the sea but when scuba-diving, you can do more than just peek- you can actually visit this underwater world and mingle with the locals. For forty minutes, I was in the midst of part of the world I had never seen before and it was by far, one of the coolest places I've visited:) As we maneuvered over vibrant coral reefs, passing schools of fish with colors Crayola hasn't imagined yet, I was in a constant state of awe. Giant blue starfish were sprawled out around every corner; giant fish with stripes and polka dots and every pattern imaginable leisurely swam around us and I couldn't help but think that Ariel was an idiot. She had it pretty good "under the sea." My main line of thinking while diving was that it would seem impossible to see this intricate beauty and deny the existence of a incredible creator. I hope to get certified one day so I can continue visiting this absolutely amazing part of God's creation. Lisa mentioned that she felt a bit like a super hero when she sports the wetsuit. Indeed there is a feeling of invincibility when wearing all the gear and although I didn't feel like a hero when I was clutching the buoy, I did feel unstoppable under the water. We decided to do a "superhero pose" post-dive and apparently this is how I think a superhero would stand...what the...?The dive was definitely my favorite part of the trip but a close second was my morning runs. I have discovered my new favorite beach in the world. I've been to quite a few but this one takes the cake. I could try to describe it to you but my words would not do it justice and the second day I brought my camera along with me so I'll never forget this amazing spot on the planet. It was even more spectacular than the run I had envisioned when I had idealized Mozambique. Here is a virtual tour of my run:One of my favorite aspects of this beach besides the obvious splendor, was the fact that I had it all to myself. Miles and miles, as far as I could see and not a single fellow soul. I did pass a herd of goats grazing on the hills beside the sand but the only humans I saw were a few solo local fishermen. The last day I saw three rocks move in the ocean and then realized I was actually seeing three heads and as I neared, three little naked boys popped up from their baths in the ocean. They stood in the water holding long sticks for fishing poles, waving at me and if I had fewer inhibitions, I would have taken their picture- the image was straight out of National Geographic- but I couldn't bring myself to take pictures of naked little boys although I was at quite a distance. Here is a fisherman that I did sneak a picture of by feigning that I needed to tie my shoe. I should have joined the CIA.
At this point my batteries died which is a shame since I explored the cave to the left in the above picture. I have always been an "explorer" so this run each morning turned into a mini-exploration for me as I harassed crabs, collected shells and found awesome hiding spots. I will forever be a little kid:) The first day, I ran until it started to rain and then raced the storm clouds back to the house. The second day, I ran until my legs hurt and then turned around and ran back. If I lived in this community I think I would be in the best shape of my life.

In the evenings we would hang out at on our balcony surrounded by silence and stars- two things you can't find in Maputo. One evening while we were playing the celebrity game (aka "CINQUE!") I looked around the room and couldn't help but observe the oddity we were. There we were, 6 blond American girls in our twenties sharing a small room in a little house on the coast of Mozambique. It was so neat to hang out with girls whom I have much in common with and it was really strange how not only did we have similar personalities, we all kinda looked alike. It was an unexpected blessing for the trip and I only wish I could have had more time to get to know these girls. Lisa and I felt a bit spoiled because the other girls all live in remote areas and were stoked to have running water and cereal.

Between the incredible beauty, adventurous escapades, peaceful surroundings, delicious food and fabulous company, this was definitely one of my favorite weekends in Africa. I sincerely enjoy life in Maputo but was so refreshed by this venture into a more remote area of Mozambique. When I reflect on my time spent in Tofo, I am reminded of the well-known Psalm speaking of how my God comforts me:

"The LORD is my shepherd, I shall not be in want. He makes me lie down in green pastures, he leads me beside quiet waters, he restores my soul. He guides me in paths of righteousness for his name's sake....Surely goodness and love will follow me all the days of my life, and I will dwell in the house of the LORD forever."

Noticing the Impalas

2008-04-27T10:26:00.000-07:00

I'm interested to hear others' perspectives on life in Maputo so the other day I did a search for blogs about Maputo and came across one backpackers' take on my beloved city. I think their reflection on the city would be indicative of most tourists' opinions of Maputo:

"We have really enjoyed our day in Maputo, but don't think we would want to spend too long here. There is a certain charm to it, but there is more rubbish here than any Asian city we have been in- parts of it are extremely dirty and smelly."

Reading this made me chuckle to myself. There certainly is a "certain charm" to Maputo and when you first arrive, it is certainly hard not to notice the trash and smells. However, if I had met these backpackers, I would have let them know that if they moved here, they would fall in love with the city. Maputo is not a place for tourists- there really isn't much to see for travelers- but it is most definitely a great place to live. After a few weeks, the trash fades into the background, the smells seem to disappear and beauty seeps out of the corners of the city in places you might not expect. It truly has been a wonderful city to live in but that being said, it is also necessary to escape into South Africa every once in awhile. Madalena and I recently went to Kruger Park on my final "farewell trip" through the park. This is one of my favorite spots on the planet which I will greatly miss.

To give some semblance of order to the gazillions of pictures I took on my farewell journey, I'll start with the animals at the end of the alphabet because there were a ton. First, vultures. I've never seen so many in my life and would be OK if I never saw them again. Did I mention my slight bird phobia? I wasn't kidding. We stopped to take pictures of a bunch of them sitting in a tree which was odd and then suddenly there were at least 50 of these terrifying feathered beasts flying over our car and circling a carcass that apparently was lying behind a bush right by the road which hindered our view. I was incredibly tempted to run out to sneak a peek but then I remembered how I run extra fast past crows because I'm scared they will pluck out my eyes (I think I was traumatized by that scene from The Passion of Christ) so we opted to just take pictures as they landed on some poor dead animal.

We also saw several of the not-so-adorable-in-my-opinion but very entertaining vermet monkeys. I do not believe in evolution but could not help but notice this one particular fella who seems to be blessed with the infamous "Hardeman toes." At least we don't eat the jam from our toes like he was doing. I don't ever get this apparent "jam" in my toes and don't really understand that expression if I'm totally honest. Do people really get gunk stuck in between their toes?

Now to the W's... The very first animal we saw was a Pumba (aka a warthog). We stopped at the bathrooms at the entrance and a mama warthog was feasting on the grass with one of her little ones. I don't have a fear of pigs so I squatted rather close to get the picture. A man watching me take the pictures said, "Aren't they beautiful?" which made me awkward because I wasn't sure if he was kidding or not. "No, no they are not beautiful. They are hideous," is what I was thinking but I guess some people think all of God's creatures are beautiful. I, however, do not belong to that school of thought. Some animals are just plain ugly. They're still cool but let's face it, they're quite repulsive. Later, we were delayed on our drive by another mama going for a jog with her 4 little ugly offspring trotting along behind her.

The next animals don't sound as impressive as they truly are. Wild dogs are really rare so they rank up there with the big 5 and cheetahs. We didn't get to see lions or leopards on this trip but it was pretty cool to see this rare species hanging out by the side of the road. Funny how if something is rare, it makes the animal that much cooler.

We also saw a bunch of waterbuck on this trip. They are the ones with a white target on their butt (how could anyone deny that God has a sense of humor?). I've only really ever seen their rears so it was a rare treat for me to get a good look at their faces. Why don't the females get any cool horns? Unfair.

The final "w" animal was one of the most common beasts on this particular trip: the wildebeest. They are usually quite anti-social so I've only ever seen them from quite a distance but this time we saw several very close. Mada and I went on a tiny back road early in the morning and stumbled upon a big herd of them right by the road. Horses get a lot of crap for having long faces but check out the length of the faces on these guys!

We didn't see any Xenopus toads or yaks but we did see plenty of one of my all-time favorites: zebras. Zebras win the "party animal" award of Kruger because they seem to have made friends with several other species. They even have befriended the typically anti-social rhinos and wildebeests.

The following is perhaps my favorite picture from all my ventures to Kruger. I didn't even notice the apparently very angry zebra until I put my pictures on my computer. Although one will often see the same animals when visiting Kruger, each trip is special because you never know what the animals are going to do. I've seen plenty of kudus, giraffes, elephants and hippos but I've never seen them do the following:

Need I remind you that I grew up sharing a bathroom with Trent and Travis? Of course I enjoy bathroom humor. Madalena grew up with 4 brothers so between the two of us, we got such a kick out of catching animals relieving themselves. Four pooping animals in one day! That has to be some kind of record. We really wanted to see a rhino in action because apparently they have some very unique bathroom rituals but the hippo made up for the rhino. We were in a viewing station with two other people who were speaking in whispers so as not to disturb the animals. Suddenly we heard what sounded like a machine gun rapidly firing. We whipped our heads around, searching for the sound and saw a hippo who had sneaked out of the river without us noticing and was projecting his poop like rapid fire and his tail was whizzing around in a circle simultaneously. The other two people watched in apparent awe while Madalena and I couldn't hold it in and started laughing hysterically. I laughed so hard I couldn't get a picture of it actually happening but did get a shot of the culprit so I'll never forget:) Mr. Elephant on the left appears to be a bashful about his doo doo and has ducked his head.

Speaking of elephants, I always love seeing these ginormous beasts and they did not disappoint on this trip. We saw a bunch of lil "dumbos" and for the first time I got to see them bathing at two different watering holes.

Other highlights included seeing two types of animals which aren't often seen in the park and that I would never want to meet on foot: rhinos and ostriges. (That fear of birds is only magnified when the bird is super fast and giagantic)

Just try and tell me that if you saw that monstrous beast to the right lifting his wings like so and exposing his muscular thighs, you wouldn't freak out too. Apparently that is what an ostrige does when it is hot.

There is a common tendency among tourists in Kruger Park to consider it an unsuccessful trip if you don't see a lion. I, however, strongly disagree. I love seeing lions but there is so much beauty in the park which sadly, often goes unnoticed and I made it a point to try to be more appreciative of the beauty around me. On this final trip, I was ooooed and awed yet again by God's creation. Even without the animals, there were many many breath-taking views with His fingerprints all over them. Here are a few:early morning
dusk
sunset
sunrise

Mada still teases me about the first time we went to Kruger and I made her keep stopping so I could take pictures of impalas. These antelope are full of grace and beauty but aren't appreciated because there are so many in the park. A common conversation in the car goes like so: "See anything?" "Nope. Just impalas." Just impalas. Just these amazing animals but they are common place so let's keep driving. We all do it. We all drive by without pausing because they are "just impala" and the park is overflowing with them. Sadly, I confess I often have this same attitude about God's blessings. I am eager for the "big blessings" for the "lions" and often fail to appreciate the "commonplace blessings" or the impalas. He provides and blesses me every single day with glimpses of beauty and grace and mercy, but do I take notice? Do I stop and thank Him? Sometimes I do, but not nearly enough. I am so thankful for the "lions" in my life- the big blessings of coming to Africa and now having a job at Valley. However, I want to also be daily mindful of His other blessings. Perhaps if I stop more often and acknowledge the simple beauties, I will notice amazing things like Mada and I did when we stopped once to acknowledge some impalas:

His beauty and blessings are everywhere. The question is, will we slow down to notice and appreciate them?

Where, O death, is your victory?

2008-04-21T10:19:00.000-07:00

I think I could live in Mozambique for the next 50 years and still not completely understand their culture. It is vibrant and complicated and I've been learning quite a bit about certain aspects of the Mozambican culture lately. I've had several discussions with other missionaries recently about why development is so slow in Africa and specifically in Mozambique. One woman was telling us about how her job is to identify the cultural factors which inhibit growth here. Ironically the family structure, which is quite admirable- children are incredibly valuable- often obstructs economic growth. If one family member succeeds, they are expected to care for the entire extended family. I was recently speaking with a Mozambican teacher at CAM who explained that he is the only working member of his family and must care for not only his wife and son, but also his parents, brothers, sister and their entire families. Sadly, another cultural barrier to growth, is jealousy. If one rural church or village is prosperous, the neighboring churches or villages will get jealous and work to bring down the successful people back to their same level. Individuals are literally afraid to succeed in business, knowing that if they are successful, their endeavors will somehow be attacked by their jealous neighbors. Coming from a society which prides itself on the free market, this concept is bizarre to me but very real here. My prayers for Mozambique are that this tradition of jealousy would be diluted and wiped out.

We've also several discussions recently about how Africa is much more "spiritually-minded" than the West. Henrik was telling me how in one village they were not allowed to use the water of the local lake because they believe the deceased witch doctor had turned into a crocodile that lived in the lake. Such stories sound so silly to me and it's hard to believe that grown, educated people believe such tales but it points to the fact that Mozambicans are bigger believers in the spiritual world than us "educated" Westerners. I internally scoffed when I heard that one village believed a lion that invaded the village and killed a man, was actually a reincarnated witch doctor, serving justice. However, to have the faith that such a thing could happen, reveals that Mozambicans are quicker to believe without seeing and without proof. They are more in-tune with the spiritual world, more aware of this unseen world I often ignore and thus they are quicker to believe in miracles and attribute acts to God or the "spirits" rather searching for logical, scientific explanations. Although I am saddened by the rampant "ancestor worship" and "syncritism" which is so prevalent here, I admire the simplistic faith of the Mozambicans. Science seems to have hardened our (referring to the West's) hearts towards the spiritual world so that even we Christians struggle to believe in miracles and to acknowledge this world that we cannot see.

Most Mozambicans therefore believe that death is obviously not the end. However, when one spirit does pass from this world, it is an indescribable tragedy which makes the funerals here very sorrowful. I had a very steep learning curve about Mozambican culture and traditions as I attended a funeral last week which I will never forget.

Teresa is our empragada. Every week day she does our dishes, washes our clothes, makes our beds, scrubs the floors, etc. It is a very common job here although the pay is quite little. Unfortunately she speaks no English so our communication has been limited to, "Hi. All is well?" "All is well thank you. And you?" "All is well." The father of her son died a few months back because he had AIDS but she assured us that she does not. Then last week her only son Francis, who was just 4 years old, complained of a tummy ache and then died a few hours later for unknown reasons. The day he died, I went with Madalena, Henrik and Henrik's sister Cecilia to pay our respects at Teresa's home. When we entered her 2-room, cement block home, she was laying on the floor, surrounded by 14 other women who were singing mournful songs in the local tongue, Chingana. Occasionally Teresa would let out a wail with such sorrow I had never heard before and the women would sing louder and continue stroking her arms. It was amazing to see how this culture deals with death- the family is not left alone and not expected to be strong- they are allowed to wail and be weak, knowing their community will take care of them.

The following afternoon was the funeral. Cecelia took her camera along which I was thankful for since it is a ceremony and day I will never forget. We arrived at the cemetery and were surrounded by vendors selling flowers which we bought, unaware of what we would later be planting them on top of Francis grave. We found Teresa's friends in the midst of the sea of bodies which was quite difficult because there were at least 20 funerals that day and the crowds were large. Teresa was still surrounded by the women as we waited for the cart to arrive to carry the tiny, wooden casket.When the cart arrived, we formed a procession behind it and walked through the graveyard for nearly half a mile. At one point a woman in front of me screamed in sorrow and collapsed. The woman behind her scooped up some dirt from the path and rubbed into the other woman's skirt- I'm still curious about this ritual- but then they continued on. We walked and walked until we were in a field of weeds and realized this was the part of the graveyard for the poor.There would be no headstone, no marking, simply a dirt hole which was dug while we stood in a circle watching. Teresa is a believer and the pastor spoke in Chingana and then several songs were sung. Since it was the middle of the afternoon, the sun was beating down on us and 2 women passed out from the heat and had to be carried away. The top of the casket was lifted to reveal sweet little Francis, lying peacefully with his blue beanie. The entire procession then walked around the casket and sprayed perfume onto Francis. Being so near to the body, there were many wails of sorrow. I was a mess when I watched Teresa at the funeral but when I approached little Francis, I was surprisingly calm. The verse that kept running through my head was, "Where, O death, is your victory? Where, O death, is your sting?" As I sprayed the perfume around Francis' face, it was so obvious that his spirit was not there- this was merely the shell. I knew without a doubt as I passed by him, that Francis was not in the casket, Francis was running and jumping in heaven.

Once the casket was lowered into the freshly-dug hole, we threw the dirt onto the casket and it was quickly covered. Once there was a mound of dirt, all of the people holding flowers went to the mound and planted the flowers on top of the grave. It was the constructed in a matter of minutes but perhaps most beautiful garden I've seen.

The pastor later thanked us for coming and explained that the "employers" rarely came to such occasions so it made quite an impression. It was difficult to watch Teresa endure such pain and be so helpless to help her and offer any words of encouragement. Since that day, I've yet to see her smile. Please pray for Teresa- that the LORD would restore unto her the joy of salvation; that she would be reminded of where Francis is and that she will one day join him; that she would be strengthened and comforted; that she would not lose faith in God and that He would shower her with His peace.

50 days to soak up Africa

2008-04-19T06:08:00.000-07:00

The 50 day count down officially begins today. 50 more days to soak up Africa. 50 more days until Europe. 50 more days to stuff my face with fresh bread, run along the coast, hang out with new friends, laugh with my students, and fellowship with my brothers and sisters here. I am immensely excited about my adventures after Africa, but continue to strive to "make the most of every opportunity because the days are evil" and am trying to soak up every moment. The following are things that I will miss once I leave this mysterious continent and thus, am trying to absorb as much as possible:

MY STUDENTS- of course I will miss these hilarious and sweet kids. Although teaching junior highers has been a new and difficult challenge, it also has been very rewarding and these crazy adolescents will always hold a special place in my heart. The other day they were reading silently and Ude looked up and sweetly said, "Miss Katie? No offense but has anyone ever told you that you look like the White Witch from Narnia?" Awesome. I don't know what's worse, being told I look like a terrifying witch or Kevin Bacon. The kids laughed and laughed until I said I was lowering their grade with each giggle.
One of the junior high girls continually lies about doing her homework- I know that's not funny but I was in a strange mood the other day so when she told one of her lies I made it into a "teaching moment" and taught them a song my friends and I used to sing all the time. Let me preface this by saying it was a song we only sang around Christians because it is terribly untrue and the verse is taken completely out of context. We actually got in trouble for singing it by our youth leader. Why, you may wonder, did I decide to teach such a song to my kids? I really don't know. Sometimes I forget to filter what I say and this was one of those moments. The song lyrics are as follows: "Revelations, Revelations, 21: 8, 21:8. Liars burn in hell, liars burn in hell. Burn, burn, burn. Burn, burn, burn." I know, I know, it's awful and my students learned it quicker than anything else I've tried to teach them this year and sadly, I'll bet it's one of the few things they'll remember. In the picture some of my junior highers are reciting Psalm 1 at the monthly potluck. I tried to convince them to do motions while reciting since they always sound so monotone when they recite verses. They didn't buy it. However, I couldn't resist and when they recited the part about a river, I did the motions for a river and made half of them start giggling. Oops.

We've been having some tough conversations recently about slavery and how people justified it in the past. Teaching about slavery to Africans is, as you can imagine, a sensitive topic. I'll never forget Silvio's face when I mentioned how some people tried to say black people weren't even human. He has these big doe eyes and in a high, squeaky voice he said, "They don't think I'm human?" He said it with such a funny tone of voice that the whole class, including him started laughing. I love that in our world today, suggesting that someone like Silvio isn't human is just plain silly. In the picture, Silvio is the boy throwing the peace sign.

Speaking of teaching tough subjects... in my 9Th and 10Th English class we were reading a story aloud and kept coming across the word, "bosom." The first person pronounced it "boe sum" and I knew no one knew what it was but I just ignored it. Then the second person read it as "boe sum" and I felt guilty for avoiding the awkward conversation but still let it slide. Finally, once the word came up a third time and the new reader also pronounced it wrong, I stopped him and said, "OK...so it's actually pronounced bosom. Do you guys know what that is?" Praying I wouldn't have to explain it I unfortunatley only got confused looks and no snickers so they obviously were oblivious to the meaning. Of course they all busted up laughing when I awkwardly explained what it is.

THE BEACH- although I will be in California, I will miss living a block away from the beach. I will miss my running routes along the coast, watching the sunset behind rows of palm trees. I will miss the sailboats bobbing on the sea and the many fisherman on the wall cheering for me and saying, "forsa! forsa!" as I speed past. (OK so maybe "speed" is the wrong verb) A few weekends ago I was "babysitting" for one of my students when her parents were out of town. We had such a great time at the beach and I felt like a little kid as we searched the shore for sea creatures. We found over 20 live starfish and tons of sand dollars and played with these for hours. Some local boys started collecting the starfish for us so we ended up with a pretty impressive collection.THE LOCALS- I will not miss the begging and persistent vendors, but I will definitely miss the Mozambicans I interact with on the streets. I'll miss Ernesto from the bakery, Isaac from "blockbuster," the security guards I pass each day who never fail to laugh and give me a thumbs up as I breeze past them, and the workers at the gas station where I daily buy snacks. I will miss random encounters like I had the other day while hunting for starfish with Kimberly. There were 3 local boys doing handstands and cartwheels and I was feeling like a little kid and wanted to play with them so I taught them how to do headstands. (my dad said he would only give us money for candy if we could do a headstand for 30 seconds so I used to practice a lot) We then had a cartwheel competition and although I did 10 in a row, I was beat by the 10 year old boy who did 12 in a row. By no means did I let him win just because he's small and poor; I am too competitive for that. I actually ended up shamefully falling on my butt after the 10Th cartwheel. I suppose I can have cartwheel competitions with strangers in America too, but there is something special about doing acrobatics with African children on the beach.

DEPENDENCE ON GOD- living in a third world country obviously changes one's perspective on life and I have loved how living here has forced me to cling tighter to my Savior. Life is much less complicated and hectic here and although I love living in California, I know I will sorely miss the simplicity of Africa. With less worldly distractions, I have discovered a deeper intimacy with God which I am terrified will disappear when I return to the hustle and bustle of life in a developed nation. I see that I am susceptible to falling prey to the lie that I can do everything by my own strength. Living in America, it is so easy to think I am providing for myself and I often fail to acknowledge the many ways God is taking care of me. It has been much easier here in Mozambique to see how God daily provides for me and I have loved the continued reminder of my total dependence on Him.

MY NEW FRIENDS- one way God has provided for me in a big way this year is by providing new friendships. Lisa recently had a birthday so Mada taught me how to make a Brazilian treat which Lisa always has on her birthday. Cocoa + butter+ sweetened condensed milk+ sprinkles= mouth-watering bites of sheer deliciousness. To make these treats which I cannot pronounce so I will not even attempt to spell, one must cover their hands in butter to roll the dough into balls and then roll in sprinkles. This is why Mada and I are smiling although it looks like we have nastiness spread all over our hands. And yes, you'd better believe I licked my hands when I was done. Leila had the less messy job of rolling the balls in the sprinkles but she also didn't get to lick her fingers afterwards. We had a semi-surprise birthday party for Lisa at Mimos and enjoyed some of their famous pizza.

After pizza we went to Lisa and Sabina's apartment to try out the cake Sabina and I had slaved over the night before. We made the mistake of asking Martha Stewart herself (aka Madalena) for a good cake recipe and she gave us quite possibly the most complicated recipe known to man. 10 eggs+ 3 hours+lots of confused looks and laughter= a tasty sponge cake made from scratch.

While enjoying the cake, the topic of "novelty dances" got brought up and Sabina proceeded to bust out her computer and show everyone the videos she had taken of the three of us doing synchronized dances in our pajamas. Not cool Sabina. However, we then convinced the group that they too needed to learn these synchronized dances and had loads of fun doing the random dance moves from Lisa's little town in North Carolina. In the picture below we were all supposed to be doing one of the poses from the dance but for some reason I'm the only one who ended up looking ridiculous and awkward. Why does that keep happening?THE RANDOMNESS OF AFRICA- it's a good thing I got into teaching where random moments happen quite often but they are certainly magnified when living in Mozambique. The other day I was walking briskly on my normal route home and was concentrating on the ground in front of me so I wouldn't fall into a random hole or trip on a giant crack when I came to a sudden halt; a giant tree had been uprooted and was lying right in my path and across the entire street. A fellow walker made a joke to me in Portuguese, surely making fun of the fact that I came within inches of walking right into a giant tree so I laughed with him and continued on. Speaking of holes in the ground, another day there was a traffic jam because a bus had driven over a giant gap in the middle of the street and the wheel got stuck in the giant hole. Only in Maputo. I've recently found a new Muslim grocery store where I've found my favorite loaf bread. Yesterday as I was perusing the 3 aisles, a tiny, old man started chanting super loud right outside the store and I saw the owner grab a giant stick, storm towards the little man and my jaw dropped as he lifted the stick and then swung and hit the wall next to the chanting man and yelled at him to leave. Ahhhhh. Then today I was signing out the students as their parents picked them up from school and very persistent beggar reached his arms through the gate and grabbed my arm. He refused to leave and our guard had to grab a literal club, pull him by the arm and walk him down the street. Ahhhhh. Speaking of security, I was running past the President's house the other day and decided to peak over the gate. When I did, I saw a bunch of guards who all freaked out to see a "peeping Katie" and yelled and signaled for me to cross to the other side of the street. Apparently we're not even allowed to walk on the sidewalk that runs along side his property. I had myself a good giggle as I ran to the other side of the street.

MY DOGS- I can't wait to see Swishy but I will miss my little family of Rhodesian Ridge backs. One of Gizmo's daughters was staying with us for a few weeks so for awhile I was hanging out with Gizmo, Simba (Gizmo's puppy who is quickly turning into a giant) and Miya who was malnourished at first so I fed her with a baby bottle. As you can see, it is quite difficult to take a family picture with 3 dogs.

FELLOWSHIP- I will miss Wednesday night Bible studies and Sunday night worship at the ambassador's home. We recently finished going through the book of Ezra so before beginning Nehemiah, we had a "Vikings dinner." Henrik, being from Scandinavia, was a bit insulted when I explained that a "Vikings dinner" meant we would act somewhat barbaric and eat spaghetti without forks. Each person brought a random kitchen utensil which someone else had to use to eat their spaghetti. I ended up with the strainer which was a bit of a challenge but do-able. Lisa did quite well with her can opener but I had the most fun watching Molly eat with a whisk. We also had pudding for dessert which was eaten with no utensils at all- wonderful excuse to lick my plate clean without looking like a freak.

Besides enjoying fun and random things like Vikings dinners, I also love how much I am learning through these studies. I've never taken such an in-depth look at the history of Israel and it has been so neat to discuss how God has worked in the lives of His chosen people. I also didn't realize how applicable the books of Ezra and Nehemiah can be to our own lives. I've been learning a bunch about repentance, accountability and prayer from these amazing men of faith.

In Ezra chapter 9, Ezra prays a moving prayer after realizing that the Israelites had disobeyed God by marrying foreign wives: "O my God, I am too ashamed and disgraced to lift up my face to you, my God, because our sins are higher than our heads and our guilt has reached to the heavens...But now, for a brief moment, the LORD our God has been gracious in leaving us a remnant and giving us a firm place in his sanctuary and so our God gives light to our eyes and a little relief in our bondage. Though we are slaves, our God has not deserted us in our bondage...What has happened to us is a result of our evil deeds and our great guilt, and yet, our God, you have punished us less than our sins have deserved and have given us a remnant like this...."

In the midst of being exiled, Ezra acknowledged that never did God desert them; rather He offered relief in their bondage. I love that. Ezra didn't rant and rave about being forced to suffer bondage, instead he praised God for being righteous, acknowledged the sin of his people and repented on behalf of Israel. This led to a thought-provoking discussion on repentance and accountability. I can now see that I need to have a more repentant heart. My sins seem often seem small to me but in light of God's holiness, my "little sins" that others might never even notice, are grossly offensive. My prayer is that God would cast a search light on my heart and reveal the true ugliness of my sins to me so I might have more reverence, more repentance and more appreciation for God's amazing forgiveness and grace.

Kitty Kat to Crusader

2008-04-10T08:39:00.000-07:00

I have been the following, in chronological order: a kitty kat, krazy kat, polecat, skunk, ladycat, lady warrior, just plain warrior, raider, royal, and now....a crusader! How does one go from being a kitty kat to a crusader? Quick explanation:

* I was a kitty kat for about 5 or 6 years because my dad was my soccer coach and being very democratic, he asked me what I wanted our team to be named. I was a bit obsessed with cats at the time and thus, we became the ferocious kitty kats, and battled against those vicious varmints for first place in the league for years. At that time my brothers were the "dynos" and my sister was a "popple," so I personally believe my team had the best team name.

* After years of dominating the soccer fields as the kitty kats, my friends on the team convinced me that "kitty kats" was no longer cool when we turned 12. Thus, we transformed to the much hipper, "Krazy Kats." Apparently alternative spelling also meant you were cool.

* Every ball-playing girl in Brea with any skills at all was once a polecat, the mascot of the junior high basketball team representing Brea. What is a polecat you ask? We didn't know for years but I recently learned that it is a type of skunk which resembles a weasel...which makes the other mascot quite ironic.

* While representing the city of Brea as a polecat, my dad was training a group of my athletic friends and we became the all-star NJB team. Several of these girls were once kitty kats or krazy kats and when the league called my dad for the team name, my friend Megan happened to be over and blurted out, "let's be the skunks!" Just like that we became the skunks and for the next two years we stunk up the court. Well actually, let's be honest...we dominated. We weren't exactly the coolest of kids in junior high but at least we could ball.

* Continuing with the cat tradition, I went to Brea High School and was a Ladycat before transferring to Troy, ending the cat craze and became a Lady Warrior. Playing as a "lady warrior" prepared me to become a real warrior at Westmont College. After graduating, I taught at Rowland where I was a Raider and coached with my dad at Hope and was a Royal.

* Next year I will follow in the footsteps of my grandma, mom, aunts, uncles, and cousins and become a Vally Christian Crusader! My current students got a kick out of this when I told them about my new mascot since when teaching about the crusades earlier in the year, I explained to them why the term "crusader" is now politically incorrect and many Christian schools are changing their mascot. How did I suddenly become a Crusader? I'm glad you asked...

It all started with a note from my aunt Letty. My Uncle Mike is a principal at Valley so my aunt knew the school was looking for a new girls' b-ball coach and she e-mailed me to see I knew of any friends who would be interested. She didn't ask me because I had taken a leave of absence from my job at Rowland and planned on helping my dad at APU. I had my plans all set. I would continue living at home, teach, coach and get my Masters. Looking back I laugh at how the Lord was speaking to me about something and I didn't even realize it. I kept coming back to Proverbs 16 and it became a chapter very familiar to me- specifically verses 1, 3, and 9 which are the only ones underlined in my Bible.

verse 1: " To man belong the plans of the heart, but from the LORD comes the reply of the tongue."

verse 3: "Commit to the LORD whatever you do, and your plans will succeed."

verse 9: "In his head a man plans his course, but the LORD determines his steps."

I had my plans all figured out but I was still seeking the Lord's grand plan for my life and sure enough, He would determine my steps which would not lead back to Rowland. While I was home over Christmas, I got a sinking feeling in my gut about following through with "my plans." It's odd because my plan made so much sense but when I got back to Africa, I tossed and turned at night, restless about the next year. I even contemplated staying in Africa longer because something just didn't feel right about my plans. And then I got Aunt Letty's e-mail. Half-joking, I wrote back, "I confess that when you mentioned the Valley position, I thought, "hmmmm...I have loved teaching at a Christian school..." If you know my aunt Letty, it won't surprise you that I was contacted by the school the following day and the ball started rolling.

This happened right before Easter break and I spent much time in Cape Town contemplating if I should apply for the job. It was while hiking the "StairMaster from hell" also known as Table Mountain, that I concluded that I would apply for the job. I had lots of time to think and pray while huffing and puffing up the mountain and thought a lot about what we had been learning at Fellowship about making "wise decisions." Moral of the story: if you need to make a big decision, climb a mountain.The week after Easter break was a hectic one. This is when my tooth got infected, my eczema flared up, the mosquito waged war, I had to calculate quarter grades, was planning a surprise party for Lisa, was deep into my LOST addiction, was planning a swim meet for the whole school, AND filling out the application for Valley. 18 pages later...I finished the application to be a coach and started on the application to be an English teacher. My mom tried to coax me into being less anal about writing novels for my answers but I couldn't resist- I know I am better on paper than on the phone. She also guilted me into watching less LOST so I could finish the applications. I sort of listened but really just skipped out on hours of sleep instead.

Next step,...the phone interview. If you know me well, you know I am not a big fan of the phone and can be incredibly awkward on the phone. Lisa, having done phone interviews for Harvard, gave me some pointers. I got dressed up for the interview...well at least from the waist up. My web cam didn't show my whole self so I was wearing my pajama pants and the only collared shirt I brought. (Yes, it's the same one I wore in the school pictures- I didn't bring many 'professional' clothes here) The tough part about a phone interview is the lack of eye contact and "assuring head nods." I rambled on and on and would pause every once in awhile and say, "Are you still there?" True to awkward form, I confessed that I used to make fun of Valley because my cousins went there and my siblings and I felt superior since we were 'tough' and went to public school. If that wasn't bad enough, I also confessed that I had changed my Skype picture to a normal one because I used to have a scary face picture but I wanted them to think I was professional. "Why Katie why? Why are you offering way more information than they want or need?" These were the thoughts running through my mind as I couldn't control my flapping lips.

Although I'm pretty sure they saw through my "professional" act, they still offered me the job a few days later so I will be the girls' b-ball coach and teaching 5 English classes. I sincerely believe that one of the reasons God brought me to Africa, was to get me to Cerritos. What's crazy is that before my experience here, I never would have wanted to teach English or teach at a Christian school. I can see now how God has been preparing me this year for the next adventure at Valley. Little did I know that when I mentioned to CAM that I would feel comfortable teaching English, that this would be just the experience I would need to teach English at Valley. Now I feel confident that I can teach English although my degree is in history and I also have learned that I enjoy teaching English.

If I had been teaching at Rowland this year, I'm not sure I would have pursued the Valley job. A major deterrent would have been the fact that Valley is a Christian School and I NEVER imagined myself teaching at a Christian school in America. Having gone through the public school system, my heart has always been with these kids. It is such a mission field, full of hurting kids in need of love, attention and direction. I don't think I would have been able to leave this mission field for a Christian school instead, if I hadn't come to Africa first. God brought me to CAM and opened my eyes to the huge need for qualified teachers in Christian schools. These kids also need love, attention and direction. Plus, I can speak openly about living as a Christian so it is much easier to be a positive, Christian influence. My mom once said that I would love teaching anywhere in the world and I think she's right.

Not only did my Aunt Letty find me a job, she also found friends for me. Sad but true. My group of single friends has dwindled to practically non-existent in recent years so I was super excited when Aunt Letty mentioned that some fun, young teachers at Valley were looking for another roommate. Perhaps it is a bit presumptuous of me to call my future roommate friends since I haven't even met them yet, but I can tell by their e-mails that we will get along great. Therefore, in August I will be moving to Cerritos into a house less than 2 miles from the school.

His plans are so much better than my own. I feel so silly for ever worrying about my future. If I continue to seek His will and am obedient to stay in the center of it, what can man do to me? Nothing. What should I worry about? Nothing. His thoughts are higher. His ways are greater. His plan is better.

Faces of CAM

2008-04-07T10:20:00.000-07:00

The main reason I came to Africa was for my students. I wanted to minister to the children of missionaries and was pleasantly surprised to find that over half of my students are actually Africans. They have been my main focus despite amazing times at orphanages and the village church of Shiparango. Spending the majority of my time with these blessed children of CAM, I have grown attached and will miss them all. One of my favorite things about teaching at Rowland was the fact that I could still see my past students around campus. This year, saying goodbye will be harder since most likely I won't see these kids ever again. (My friend Megan was a bit morbid and she used to end her notes with "see you in heaven, if not before.") As I reflect on my time in Africa, I have to come to terms with the fact that many of the people I've met here I won't see again...until heaven. What a party that will be! The following are some of the precious faces from CAM, my school, which have made me laugh and scream...but mostly laugh. The following pictures are from picture day. The first one is of the entire school and staff.
Of course we took a funny face picture. I asked the guard to take it and then realized by his facial expression that he had never used a camera before. I'm impressed that he got most of us in the picture:I know these faces are just faces to you, but to me, they are memories. Every single child at this school is so precious and I have loved getting to know each and every one of them.
In the above picture, Mafat is the boy making the Mafia expression. He is exploding with personality and has the cutest little studder because he is always so excited to say whatever he is thinking about. I once sat at my desk after school and kicked him on accident because he was hiding from his twin brother under my desk. He always insists that I show him how I can pick my nose with my tongue and then freaks out when I do it.In the back row of the above picture you'll see Natasha playing with Miria's hair. I would have been friends with these girls in high school. They are constantly laughing and teasing one another, have great senses of humor and are both very bright and studious. Natasha has one of those contagious laughs and the other day she couldn't stop giggling when I grabbed a paper out of the trashcan (long story) and said, "did someone spit in the trashcan?" Of course I picked up the paper covered in her spit and she couldn't stop laughing.

Directly in front of them is Domingos, Natasha's little brother. He has transformed so much this year and it has been so neat to watch God work in his life. At the beginning of the year, he had major attitude and I had to talk with him about respecting authority figures. Now he is one of the most respectful students I've ever had, is super diligent in his studies, and always making me laugh. Domingos is the one who told me I look like Wonder woman and calls me such as he walks past me in the halls. He used to bring the class down with his negativity but now he is constantly volunteering, giving serious answers (he used to give me wrong answers on purpose) and has brought the entire class up because of his new attitude. What is most exciting is to see him pursue a relationship with God. He attends the fellowship group at the ambassador's house on Sunday nights and I heard through the grapevine that his last prayer request when we broke up into groups was to, "have wisdom in my pursuit of becoming more like Christ." It is very evident in his attitude at school that God is answering that prayer and it has been a joy to watch.
The art teacher, Bev, is in the middle in the purple. I hope I have as much energy as this woman when I am her age. She is such an encourager and is always telling others about the latest thing that God is teaching her. I love that. I can be a little kid at times and won't eat the crust on my bread so she always eats is for me.
How adorable are these kids?? Don't you just want to pinch their cheeks? Esther is sporting the pink scrunchy with her arms crossed and her older sister Veronica is striking a similar pose behind her. Although giving off the impression of having attitude, nothing could be further from the truth. They are both so incredibly sweet. Esther has now made it a point to hug me every time she sees me. Those who know me well, know that I'm not much of a hugger but getting hugs from cute 5 year olds is a different story. Daniel is in the background waving at me- he also is quite the hugger. I was having a rough day and was leaving the campus but right before I passed through the gate, he came running up to me from his PE class just to hug me and say goodbye. How can one stay cranky after that?
As previously mentioned, in this picture I captured Miria and Natasha in their typical pose. Also in the back row, some of my boys noticed me sneaking pictures and opted for "cool" poses. Igor is popping his collar (is that the right expression?) and next to him, Ude went for the classic "tongue out" pose. Both of these boys are incredibly bright and very special to me- well all my students are. I had to work to win Igor's affections since as seen in the picture, he seems to feel "too cool for school" but he actually said goodbye to me the other day before I initiated it. I was thrilled. Ude on the other hand giggles if I just look at him. He and his older brother Oko are the South African boys belonging to the Xhosa tribe with the "clicking" language.How sweet to be able to pray as an entire school! One of my favorite things is listening to little kids pray. The other day, one of the first graders was praying and thanked God for the Chinese and their ninja skills.

My ninth and tenth graders are my largest class- a whopping 10 students- and I get to have them twice a day, once for English and then for economics. I was not exactly jazzed about teaching economics since I'm not a fan of math, but it's actually turned out to be much less painful than I anticipated and a few of my students seem to really enjoy it. Others have told me it is against their religion to study economics but for the most part they are understanding the concepts and doing well in the class. I had a nightmare the other night because I couldn't decide where to invest my money and was very worried about it. I woke up laughing at myself- never before have I dreamt about mutual funds- probably because I didn't know what they were until this year. It's true- it belongs in the category of "things you should know about by the time you're 25" so I felt silly asking, but at least now I know:) Here my students are proudly displaying their advertisement for a fictitious product they invented.
The week we returned from Easter break was spent planning and preparing for the annual "Swim Fest" which is a swim meet that the entire school participates in. Besides the typical races, we also had "treading water" competitions, relays, and the "biggest splash" competition. Teaching swimming was one of many "unexpected blessings" I've experienced in Mozambique. Here are a few shots from my last official day of swimming at the Swim Fest.

Every year I grow so attached to my students and this year is no different. It has been such a joy to get to know all my students on a much more personal level than I can in huge schools. I cannot imagine myself teaching in the States and going over to my students' homes to babysit, have dinner and play basketball. Teaching in a small missionary school provides this unique opportunity to really invest in the lives of each of my students and I have loved it!

Fools and Honest Abe

2008-04-01T12:38:00.000-07:00

Coming from a line of practical-jokers, I've always loved April Fools Day. On no other day can you tell bold-faced lies, toying with the emotions of others and then say 2 magic words and the "victim" is not allowed to get mad at you: "APRIL FOOLS!" Although I've suffered from playing several "jokes gone bad" in my day, I still love to try to fool people and hope they won't break the rules and get upset. I recently discovered that this hilarious day is one of my Aunt Charlene's favorite holidays and she tricks her family nearly every year. I love it. This year my brother text my mom during her business meeting with a message which read: "mom, got in a bad accident. car is totaled. on the way to hospital." Motherly instincts kicked in and completely forgetting the date, she panicked and fled the meeting and called Trav. "APRIL FOOLS!" he exclaimed and my poor, trusting mother had to return with her head lowered in shame, admitting that she had been fooled. It's always more fun to do the fooling than to be fooled:) This idea of being fooled and being a fool is a topic which has come up a lot lately. I'm beginning to think God is trying to tell me something...The following are examples of ways I've been a fool and I've learned about foolishness.

I did it again. I bought cabbage thinking it was lettuce. A few years ago I did this when my family needed lettuce for tacos and my dad cracked up when I said, as I was tearing the lettuce, "gosh, this lettuce feels like rubber." After suffering from the ridicule of not knowing what a head of lettuce looks like, you'd think I'd never make that mistake again. Wrong. I made it again the other day and what's worse is that I inspected the cabbage closely to be sure it was lettuce. Third time's a charm?

My friends Lisa and Sabina are both super smart. They're Princeton grads- they have to be. My attempts to fool them into thinking I was also intellectual and sophisticated like a Princeton grad lasted for about 2 days. Lisa recently was accepted to the Kennedy School. I knew this was a big deal but had no idea where or what the Kennedy School is. When I overheard someone congratulate Lisa for getting into Harvard I said, "Harvard is the Kennedy School?" She was gracious and didn't mock me and confessed she didn't say "Harvard" because it sounded like bragging. She's so humble:) Sabina and I baked Lisa a cake as a congrats for getting into Harvard's graduate program. I love that although Sabina is super smart as well, she does silly things like getting her arm stuck in marshmallow and when we were playing "Cinque!" (also known to some as the celebrity game) the clue was "basketball player" and she yelled out, "Michael Jackson!" Oh and just to clarify, "parabens" means congratulations in Portuguese.

I was recently riding in the back of a truck with a student and we had every one's backpacks with us in the back. Foolish. Driving through the clogged streets of Maputo, we were stopped at a light when two men walked by, saw the many bags and saw two foolish targets. One man tried to distract us by hitting the side of the truck while the other reached into the truck and tried to grab the bag sitting next to me. He wasn't very committed however because when I said, "Hey!" and grabbed the bag as well he continued walking. Not a very intriguing "near-mugging" tale but we weren't being wise by putting valuables out in the open.

At Sunday night fellowship we've been watching DVDs by Andy Stanley and the theme has been on wisdom. One of the sermons was about being wise with how we spend our time and I was continually convicted as I thought about all the episodes of LOST I've been watching recently. I had never seen the show before coming here but now, after hours and hours of sheer entertainment, I am almost completely caught up on the 4Th season. I'm not saying that TV is evil but I have been foolish with my time lately in that I've been staying up til 2 in the morning, engaged in this epic adventure called Lost and have thus been a bit groggy at school. Don't misunderstand me and think I am saying that watching Lost is foolish. Oh contrare. It is a brilliant show which you really must watch from the beginning but I have been foolish with how I've gotten so addicted that I suffer from lack of sleep because I can't practice self-discipline.

The other day I was walking into a store and heard the obnoxious "cat-calling" whistle. Usually Mozambican men try to get a woman's attention with a very annoying "hisssss" so I was surprised to hear the tradition "wooooot wooo." (best attempt to type a whistle sound) Anyways, I refused to acknowledge, the whistling continued, I rolled my eyes and hurried into the store. Once inside, the whistling didn't stop and I thought, "this moron is persistent and about ready to get the look of death if I see him." I peeked in the back room where the whistling was coming from...It was a bird in a cage...I laughed and felt incredibly foolish.

My philosophy when sick or hurt may be considered to be "foolish" although I'm still not completely convinced. My philosophy: "Ignore the problem and it will go away." This mantra has worked wonders for me in the past but for about a week I felt like the Egyptians suffering from plague after plague. It started with an old ailment called eczema. I've suffered from this non-contagious dry skin disease since I was little. While playing basketball in college, my knuckles would crack and bleed so I was continually sucking the blood off my hands during games so I wouldn't have to leave the court. Dry skin pretty much sucks and has led to several trips to the dermatologist but usually only comes during dry weather. This was the first "winter" in which I didn't have my "old lady hands" and it was wonderful. Then the Mozambican winter started...You haven't known what itching feels like until you've had a thigh covered in an eczema rash. The large gashes are from where I've scratched so hard, I've dug holes into my legs. Attractive huh?

Some of you may be thinking, "Why on earth is she posting disgusting pictures of her rash on her blog?" Quite frankly, it's a good question but if I'm reflecting on physical ailments I've been dealing with, I can't just ignore the nasty rash covering my legs. Oh and yes, I had this rash while still teaching swimming and stood proudly in my speedo, yelling instructions across the pool while the entire crowd watched the crazy American girl with the strange rash on her legs. It could be worse. While blog-stalking, I came across the following picture of a girl who was having treatment for a backache while in Korea. This is another reason why my philosophy is brilliant. If you do try to solve your physical ailment, things like "cupping" happen and you are left with giant hickeys all over your back.

While suffering from my itchy legs, a mosquito decided to wage war against me one night. I haven't been needing the mosquito net lately,...or so I thought. I woke up in the middle of the night with no less than 10 bites on each arm! Never before have I desired to have 4 hands but at that moment, I couldn't scratch each limb simultaneously and it was torture. A few days later, I did a genius move and sliced my finger open while opening a rusty can. Luckily the Butlers and Emelda supplied me with well-stocked first aid kits which I have been putting to good use lately.

And finally, my most painful physical ailment stemmed from the fact that I have incredibly weak teeth. It's true. Trent and I got the "weak teeth" gene and have visited the dentist already more than most people ever will in their lifetime. Before moving to Africa, I went to the dentist to take care of all my issues to ensure I wouldn't have any teeth problems while here. I had 3 or 4 root canals in the span of a few weeks right before I left. (a sign of someone who has terrible teeth: they lose count of how many root canals, crowns and bridges they have) While in Cape Town, I began to feel the old familiar tooth pain but I followed my philosophy and did nothing. Eventually I was grimacing so I gave in and took Advil. (this was a big step for me. I've always hated taking any type of medicine. ) Pretty soon I was researching just how much Advil one can take before there are serious consequences. To fall asleep at night I had to ice my jaw since the entire left side of face was swelling. (still not too concerned at that point and opted to do nothing) I finally caved after days of intense tooth pain and started thinking about seeing a dentist. I don't have fear of dentists. Quite the opposite actually. I usually befriend them since I become such a regular.

However, the thought of seeing a dentist in Mozambique did not excite me. Our empragada (maid) had a really swollen face and when I asked about it, I found out that the dentist had pulled a tooth and messed up on the Novocaine. Wonderful. I got a recommendation from several different missionaries to see a certain Dr. Zaid, who is South African and speaks English. (communication with your dentist really is essential) When I showed up at the office, I felt like I was walking onto the set of a horror film. You want your dentist office to be clean but there just aren't many clean buildings in Maputo and as I sat on the plastic covered chairs, staring at the dirt on the walls, I started praying:) The dentist turned out to be incredibly knowledgable...about teeth. I was a bit worried when he asked me what province I was from in the United STATES of America. I grew more concerned when I said I lived on the West Coast and he asked me if I could see Japan from there. "It's OK Katie, you're not that great at geography either. This is not a reflection on his dentisting skills." He performed a simple test which involved hitting my teeth with a metal tool and asking which one hurt the most. They all did. I felt like such a baby as I yelped every time he hit a tooth but it reeeeeeally hurt. Once he'd determined which tooth was the problem (after 2 rounds of make the American girl scream) he took an x-ray. He informed me that the problem tooth already had a root canal but the root was infected and I would need to see a specialist to perform surgery to cut off the tips of my dead roots. Excellent. The good news is he also gave me a prescription for antibiotics and painkillers. In following with the "fool" theme, I didn't take the antibiotics for a few days because I could not figure out the "child-proof" bottle. I finally asked a student (yes, a child) to open it for me. Ironic?....just plain pathetic? After taking the pills for a few days, the pain and swelling subsided and I stopped taking them. I have a reason this time though- if this infected root gives me problems in Europe, I want to be prepared. Dr. Zaid was incredibly friendly and e-mailed me the following day with the picture of my tooth. Still not totally sure why- I guess to show the specialist? I thought, "Oh good, this will be perfect for the blog." Moral of the story: my philosophy in dealing with physical ailments is sometimes foolish.

I've also been getting words of wisdom about "foolishness" from reading the book of Proverbs. My pastor from home once recommended reading a chapter of Proverbs every day since there are 31 chapters- 1 for each day of the month. In doing this and don't get me wrong, I have missed many days, but this pattern of reading Proverbs often, has been giving me more and more insight into the idea of wisdom and foolishness. Throughout the book of Proverbs, a "fool" is described in many ways and often juxtaposed with a wise man. (that's right I used juxtaposed in a sentence.) I want to be that wise man and not the fool so I continue to read the Proverbs, searching for guidance as to how to be "wise." An apt example of this juxtaposition is Proverbs 28:26 "He who trusts in himself is a fool but he who walks in wisdom is kept safe." I confess that I am often guilty of trusting in myself rather than in God but He continues to point me to the path where I am reliant upon Him.

I love Proverbs 2:3-6 because it offers such hope: "and if you call out for insight and cry aloud for understanding, and if you look for it as for silver and search for it as for hidden treasure, then you will understand the fear of the LORD and find the knowledge of God. For the LORD gives wisdom, and from his mouth come knowledge and understanding." My prayer is that I will continue to search for wisdom with such passion as is described so I will not be a fool and will gain an increased reverence for and knowledge of our All-wise creator.

My friend Katie recently wrote a blog entry about saying foolish things. She is one of the wittiest people I know so I highly recommend you check out her blog and read about her recent foolish mishaps. In her April 10Th entry she quoted Abraham Lincoln: "Better to remain silent and be thought a fool than to speak out and remove all doubt." - Abraham Lincoln. The same week Katie wrote this, a student of mine wrote a current event and in reflecting about the event, used that exact same quote. Coincidence? Or God trying to speak to me through ol' Honest Abe? Still not sure. I wonder if Abe said this line after reading Provers 17:28 which says, "Even a fool is thought wise if he keeps silent, and discerning if he holds his tongue."

This year God has been impressing upon my heart the need to be careful with my words, using them more sparingly. He's been showing me the power of words and necessity of thinking carefully before speaking so as to avoid the folly of fools. Fools speak quickly and negatively about others and I don't want to be no fool. (Did anyone else just picture Mr. T saying, "I pity the fool....!"?) Sprinkled throughout Proverbs are lessons about the power of words and the importance of being wise with our words. Proverbs 10:19 says, "When words are many, sin is not absent, but he who holds his tongue is wise," and Proverbs 12:18 says, "Reckless words pierce like a sword, but the tongue of the wise brings healing." Solomon also wrote that, "He who answers before listening- that is his folly and his shame" (18:13) and again, "He who guards his mouth and his tongue keeps himself from calamity." (21:23)I have been convicted by these Proverbs and others to close my lips more often and listen more intently.

I realize I often end my blog entrys with a "Danny Tanner moment" but I am going to deviate from the pattern and end with quotes from the personification of foolishness. I give you....Michael Scott. It is often painful to watch The Office because of this man who is the epitamy of a "fool" to such an extreme that you can't help but groan and laugh. Here are a few memorable lines from the lovable boss and fool:

Michael Scott: I’m an early bird and a night owl. So I’m wise and I have worms.

Michael Scott: Abraham Lincoln once said that "If you're a racist, I will attack you with the North," and these are the principles I carry with me in the workplace.

Michael Scott: When I said that I was king of forwards, you got to understand that I don't come up with this stuff. I just forward it along. You wouldn't arrest a guy who was just passing drugs from one guy to another.

Michael Scott:Yes. It is true. I, Michael Scott, am signing up with an online dating service. Thousands of people have done it, and I am going to do it. I need a username, and... I have a great one. "Little Kid Lover". That way people will know exactly where my priorities are at.

Michael Scott:You'll notice, I didn't have anybody being Arab. I thought that would be too explosive, uh, no pun intended. But I just thought, "too soon" for Arabs, maybe next year. You know, the ball's in their court.

Michael Scott: People I respect, heroes would be, Bob Hope, Abraham Lincoln, definitely. Bono, ah, and probably God, would be the fourth one. And I...I just think those people really, helped the world, in so many ways. That it's, it's really beyond words. It's really incalculable.

Michael Scott: Society teaches us that, having feelings and crying is bad and wrong. Well, that's baloney, because grief isn't wrong. There's such a thing as good grief. Just ask Charlie Brown.

Michael Scott: Yeah, I went hunting once. Shot a deer in the leg. Had to kill it with a shovel. Took about an hour. Why do you ask?

Michael Scott: I’m very fast. I’m like Forest Gump except…I am not an idiot.

Stairmaster from Hell/Purple Tongues

2008-03-25T12:37:00.000-07:00

I had originally intended to write one blog entry about my trip to Cape Town but then explaining Easter Sunday turned into a mondo entry and the same happened when retelling the adventures of Monday. This is my attempt to wrap up the tales from Cape Town.

On Tuesday morning, feeling ambitious, we decided to conquer Table Mountain. In the picture below we were feeling energetic and completely naive of the monster hike awaiting us. (correction: Lisa knew what was waiting having hiked it before but failed to mention just how challenging the hike is) I didn't think the hike looked too steep but to quote Martina McBride: "wrong again." I told Chris he needed to squat down to get in the timed picture- I didn't know he was going to opt for the "cheerleader pose."

The "people mover" was closed because of wind so only the true hard-core climbers like ourselves would be enjoying the mountain this morning. The beginning portion of the hike felt like a StairMaster from hell and I was huffing and puffing, praying for a stretch of flat land, or at least a hill that wasn't so straight up. The path finally veered to the right and wasn't as steep and I could catch my breath. After happily trotting along for about 20 minutes, Chris came running towards me looking very confused. Long story short, we had both taken a wrong turn and had been walking the wrong way for quite some time. Crap. We finally caught up to Lisa and Judith and jumped back on the StairMaster from hell.

Lisa, Judith and I collapsed in every tiny shaded portion of the hike to rest our legs and escape from the scorching sun. We befriended our fellow hikers who also needed a few moments to recover in the shade and laughed as we overheard them saying, "I will NEVER do this again!" (Chris had run up ahead of us) I remember Pike's Peak being quite challenging but for about 1 and 1/2 hours we were climbing up giant rocks and I don't remember my thighs killing like this when I hiked Pike's Peak. However, the challenge made the reward even greater and reaching the top gave us a wonderful feeling of accomplishment.We enjoyed our picnic lunch at the top, marveled at the view, took random pictures, and began the descent down the mountain.

In the picture below, we were about to start climbing down as several people were just finishing the hike. We were all smiles as they struggled up the last leg and we couldn't help but cheer them on and tell them how close they were to finishing. It reminded me of the passage in Hebrews which compares our Christian walk to running a race and says in chapter 10, " And let us consider how we may spur one another on towards love and good deeds. Let us not give up in meeting together as some are in the habit of doing, but let us encourage one another and all the more as we see the Day approaching."

It got me thinking as we stumbled down the mountain how crucial fellowship is to our faith. It was the neatest feeling to be at the top of the mountain, watching others struggle as they labored up that last leg of the hike, and being able to encourage them and clap for them and watch their demeanor change. Knowing the end of the hike or the "Day" was near, and hearing our cheers, they pressed on with renewed strength and I was convicted by this picture of what Christian fellowship can look like. I want to do more such "encouraging" to other Christians as we struggle up this "mountain" we are all climbing but what does that look like? Encouragement in this situation was easy: clapping, smiling and cheering, "way to go!" "you're doing great!" and "almost there!" But how can we as Christians literally ENCOURAGE one another? I know I would feel awkward if people clapped for me when I did my devotions or gave me high-fives for going to church. So what does it look like to truly encourage one another in our walks as the author of Hebrews tells us to? It's a thought I've been pondering and frankly, I haven't reached a lot of answers but would love to hear any of your thoughts.
If you've ever run stadium stairs, you are probably familiar with "shaking leg syndrome" as I like to call it. Perhaps I have vitamin deficiencies (I was taking "Women's One a Days" but then I got a cold and I was convinced it was because of the vitamins and haven't started taking them again. Good logic don't you think?) or something is freakishly wrong with my legs but when I climb down hills, my legs shake uncontrollably. The others laughed whenever we would stop to rest and my legs looked like a dog's when he gets his belly scratched. I often felt like my legs were about to buckle, but we made it down without me ever tripping which was a small miracle.

After showering, we headed off to our next adventure: wine-tasting. Some of you may be thinking right now: I thought Katie didn't drink? I don't. Don't worry, I'm not one to pass judgement if are a drinker because I don't think there is anything wrong with it if you are of age and not getting drunk. However, it has been ingrained in my consciousness that I would be doing wrong by drinking and plus, I ABHOR the taste of all alcohol. Really. Even the scent makes me cringe. Lisa and Judith don't enjoy alcohol either but being in a town with world-renown vineyards, we felt we'd be missing out if we skipped them. Luckily Chris does enjoy wine so we could enjoy the "wine-tasting" experience although us girls don't actually like wine. Lisa and I would sniff the wine to decide which would make us gag the worst which is why in the following picture we are laughing uncontrollably. We were reenacting our "sniffing" of the wine, but since it was a timed picture we were sniffing for a good 10 seconds before realizing the picture would not capture what we were doing.
I'm sure many of you are thinking: what a waste of a delicious opportunity! We may not have enjoyed tasting the wine, but we sure had a fun time. Occasionally we would take a sip (see picture) but the results were never pretty. The last face is not posed- genuine disgust. I don't think you're supposed to make these faces when wine-tasting:)After tasting the wine, we ventured into the vineyard and did some covert exploring and sampling of the grapes. Just like the signs prohibiting us to touch the penguins felt like a challenge, so too the many signs telling us not to pick the grapes only tempted us more. Not only was the vineyard breath-taking, the grapes were thee best grapes I've ever eaten. How on earth can they turn such sweet goodness into bitter-vinegar-tasting-wine? I don't get it. We thought we were so sneaky taking the grapes, until Judith opened her mouth to reveal and bright purple tongue. I love that in the picture below, Lisa hadn't eaten enough grapes yet and resembles a panting dog. (didn't mean to call you a dog Lisa- you're tongue just looks funny)

The sun set and we set out to find dinner. After checking the menus in no less than 20 restaurants at the Waterfront, we settled on pizza which turned out to be the best pizza I've had in Africa. With full bellies and tired legs, we collapsed in our beds at the hostel which was the last night for Lisa and Chris who left the next morning.

On Wednesday morning, Judith and I enjoyed a leisurely breakfast at our beloved "Mugg and Bean," explored a craft fair, tried unsuccessfully to book late tickets to Robben Island, and toured the District 6 Museum. For those who are terribly uneducated about South African history (I say this facetiously since I teach history and knew very little about this), Robben Island is where Nelson Mandela was held as a political prisoner for 18 years. District 6 has come to symbolize the injustices of the apartheid system in South Africa where blacks and whites were legally separated in all areas of society. District 6 was an all-black area which the government decided to rebuild and in the process, forced everyone to move. Judith and I got a taste of the history of South Africa and having lived in Mozambique for almost 20 years, Judith even remembers apartheid in South Africa! Even she was surprised that this "history" of apartheid in South Africa was not so long ago. She remembered going on vacation with her family and her maid's family in South Africa but the Christian organization would not allow the maid's family to stay at the same place. I guess we assume Christians must always fight against such injustices but sadly, that has not always been the case in history. The following are poems and pieces written during and about apartheid which were written on tiles throughout the District 6 museum.

After touring the museums, we enjoyed authentic German pretzels and Swiss chocolates which got me very excited about Europe. Not only were the treats delicious, the German woman working at the bakery looked incredibly masculine and it made me laugh thinking of all the hilarious people-watching Trent and I will enjoy. We ended our last evening by taking a sailboat ride around the harbor as the sun set behind the ocean. Simply amazing.

Despite our many layers of clothing, for awhile the boat ride was FREEZING and waves were crashing into the boat so they gave us our fashionable ponchos.
It was a majestic view and wonderful way to end an incredible trip to Cape Town.

California in Cape Town

2008-03-24T12:36:00.000-07:00

The longer I live in Africa, the more I love it but ironically, the more I also love and appreciate the US of A and specifically my home state. I'm finding myself spouting out more "California pride" statements than ever before. Perhaps since I was born and raised in the great golden state, I didn't need to defend it to my fellow Californians but now, surrounded by non-Californians, I can't help but sing her praises. (Yes, California is a girl) When I think about the places I've vacationed, the roads I've traveled, and cities I've lived in inside of California, I am amazed yet again by how blessed I am. Last week, as my friends and I experienced the beauty and wonder of Cape Town, I couldn't help but think of my beloved state. Cape Town reminded me so much of many of the different beach towns in California so needless to say, I loved it.

Monday's Excursions We awoke on Monday and before setting out on our adventures for the day, we admired the amazing view from our parking lot of Table Mountain. Notice our "morning eyes?" We look more chipper later in the day. Maps in hand, we set out to explore the coast with our final destination being the Cape of Good Hope. We paused at a tiny beach town to find crepes which Lisa and I were craving. Following a sign that said, "15 minute walking trail," we wound our way up a hill and stumbled upon a beautiful view of the harbor. We ended up in the midst of a bunch of cute homes tucked together on the hill and it reminded me so much of Summerland, the city I lived in my Senior year at Westmont. As a warning, be prepared to see several pictures of the four of us in front of an ocean. Maybe you are of the opinion that "an ocean's an ocean," but I am not and each spot along the coast holds memories so I'm including them all:) Sorry if you get annoyed looking at so many similar pictures, and in truth, I think even my friends grew annoyed by my need to continually set up a timer shot and take yet another picture.
It was in this quaint little "Summerland-esqe" town that we ate the infamous crepes with chocolate sauce. I'm pretty certain the following is one of those "you had to be there" stories which no one else enjoys but it made us laugh so hard for the rest of the trip and I don't want to forget about it. So we finally found a cute restaurant overlooking the harbor which served crepes and we all ordered the mother load batch of these delectable "pancakes" as they call them in South Africa. I didn't want to be a party pooper and admit that my crepes were less than delicious so I kept my mouth shut and doused them in more chocolate sauce. Little did I know, Lisa did the same. Finally she confessed that she wasn't enjoying her crepes like usual and we decided that the restaurant must have used sour milk when making Lisa's and mine. Extremely non-confrontational, we didn't complain but were left with an awful aftertaste in our mouths. Chris, who appears to have numb taste buds and thought his were fine although they were just as gross, suggested eating a spoonful of chocolate to get rid of the bad taste. This sounded like a logical solution so I took a giant spoonful, bottom's up, and discovered the hard way that the milk in our crepes was not sour, the chocolate sauce was. Moral of the story: try the sauce before you cover your meal in it.

Our next stop was in Simon's Town where the famous "Boulder's Beach" resides. This beach is famous because penguins, that's right- real life penguins, live there. I'm not a huge bird-lover, in fact I'm quite the opposite, but it's not every day you get to see penguins in the wild and what's more- penguins on the beach. Very weird and a "must-see" in Cape Town. Walking to the beach, we passed tons of penguins napping, bathing, and just "chillin" near the trail. (Very rarely will I use the word "chillin" but I found it ironic and appropriate in this context) In the first picture I am explaining to a stranger how to use my camera when he took the picture and am also playing the role of the"4Th wheel." While walking on the trail, we ran into our Swedish friends from Maputo. Elvira is the funniest little girl who constantly entertains me. You can see in the picture why I am so fond of her- she does silly faces even when I don't tell her to:) A girl after my own heart.
Since Lisa and Judith had already been on the beach with the penguins in past trips, they saved their money and Chris and I ventured into "Penguin world" alone with one goal in mind: touch a penguin. The vast number of signs instructing us to "not touch the penguins" only inflamed our desire to do that very thing. We came across two love birds (pun intended) snuggling on a rock and decided to make our move. I must tell you that these "cute, little birds" actually throw some pretty vicious looks and their beaks looked much larger when up close. I am justifying why you only see my hand approaching the penguin. My camera wasn't fast enough to capture the moment I actually made contact with the feathery ball of attitude. I promise that I did actually touch her but I wasn't about to pet her for the sake of a picture- do you see the dirty look she is giving me? I can't say I blame her though- do you notice the girl in the pink on the other side of the rock? We were tag-teaming the penguin and she would distract the bird for me so I could touch her and then I would do the same for her.

Our next victims were three friends hanging out on the rocks. I decided to join them and pretend to be a penguin. Yes, my expression is a "penguin face." Please take note in the second picture of the nervous laughing and arms prepared to push me off the rock at any moment.

After wading through the freezing ocean and scaling rock formations, we found a whole clan of the crazy, "Chilly-Willy's." I love how they nap on top of each other. I squatted as close as I could to them without peeing my pants from fear. Who knew I could be so afraid of a penguin? The beaks I tell you, those beaks are frightening. I felt pretty awful when I tried to make a penguin run so we could watch it waddle because I accidentally chose to torment a crippled penguin. He waddled away with limp and while Chris laughed at me, I nearly cried- who chases an injured penguin? Apparently I do.

After we had our fill of harassing the penguins, we continued our tour of the coast. Question for you: what do Bartholomeus Dias and ostriches have in common? Answer: we drove past both of them on our journey to Cape Point. Bartholomeus Dias was the first to sail around the western tip of Africa in 1488 (little piece of trivia which may come in handy when playing Jeopardy) and being a history-lover, I of course enjoyed this. However, I confess that I was more excited when we drove past wild ostriches. Being terrified of little black and white birds with "big beaks," you can imagine my sentiments towards ostriches. Pretty much my worst nightmare involves an ostrich-chase at some point. However, in the safety of the car, I was able to marvel at these giant, feathered beasts.

We arrived at Cape Point and had a mini-hike waiting for us. Lisa wasn't feeling well so Chris, Judith and I ventured to the point together and oohed and awed at the amazing view, quite confident we could see Antarctica in the horizon.

Driving a bit further, we arrived at the Cape of Good Hope. Incredible beauty.
Continuing our trek, we drove along an incredible coastline that reminded me of the drive to Santa Barbara. We stopped for a picture and right after we took the picture, a huge gust of wind made all of us literally fall forwards.

We arrived in a little fishing town where we stopped to partake in some greasy and delicious fish 'n chips. Side note: I had never ordered fish 'n chips before coming to Africa because I always thought the idea of fish with potato chips sounded gross. (This is from the girl who thought "grilled cheese sandwiches" were actually called "girl cheese sandwiches" until high school so you shouldn't be too surprised.) I was pleasantly surprised to learn that "chips" actually means fries and it is a new favorite of mine.
As the sun dipped behind the mountains, we began our journey back to the city, pausing only at a local icecream spot. It was a remarkable day full of awe-inspiring views, laughter, adventure, randomness, history, and wild birds; a Monday I will surely never forget.

He has Risen Indeed!

2008-03-23T12:55:00.000-07:00

Easters growing up always began with my mom waking us all up with a rousing rendition of, "Up from the grave He arose!!!!" Heidi and I would then put on our matching dresses (we still did this a few years ago) and the fam would head off to church where we would say "He has risen INDEED!" about 47 times. (I love that tradition by the way and have been known to say "He has risen" to strangers on Easter to see if they will respond with the magic words. I've only gotten funny looks so far but I can't wait for the day someone will say it back to me.) After church we would head to our home to prepare for the Vander Dussen clan to arrive. Heidi and I would put the finishing touches on our Easter poem as the house filled with the scent of ham. The aunts, uncles, grandparents and cousins would then start arriving and the house would be filled with laughter, conversation and while basketball games or golf matches hummed in the background. We would often break out the ping pong table (one year I tore my dress diving for the ball) and have games of "lightening" on the basketball court. After grace and stuffing our faces, the uncles would hide the plastic eggs filled with cold hard cash around the front, back and even our neighbors' yard. The cousins would try to peek through the windows and once all the eggs were hidden, we would race around hoping and praying to find the "fifty dollar egg." (I found it a few years ago after digging up one of my mom's potted plants and felt like Charlie finding the golden ticket) These traditions have pretty much stayed the same for years with a few changes- my grandparents now watch the festivities from heaven and Heidi and I no longer write Easter poems. However, the uncles still hide eggs and we cousins now in our twenties and thirties, still ransack the yards searching for them.

I think it goes without saying that I LOVE Easter and not just because of the incredible chocolates, delicious peeps and cash from the hunt. I love our traditions and I love my family but more importantly, I love how the focus of this holiday is more on Christ than on the Easter bunny. I love how I am annually rocked in a new way when I consider the sacrifice Jesus made for me. I was quite worried that I would be terribly sad this Easter, being away from my family, but God surprised me again and blessed me with an amazing Resurrection Day. He reminded me that Easter is amazing because of Jesus, not because of my family traditions and He will be with me wherever I go so Easters will always be wonderful.

My friends Judith, Lisa and Lisa's boyfriend Chris who was visiting, had planned what turned out to be my most memorable Spring break. Judith drove us all through the most intense rainstorm I've ever seen to her apartment in Nelspruit, South Africa. After inventing the game "dodge plane," getting seriously lost in the middle of nowhere, and attending a Good Friday service with Chris Tomlin's long lost brother as the worship leader, we were ready for the next leg of our trip. We took a bus to Johannesburg and then flew to Cape Town and arrived in the famous town on Saturday night. After checking into our hostel, the three girls were pooped but Chris insisted we start seeing the town so we went to the famous Waterfront which turned out to be a local hot spot, and feasted on KFC. (FYI, KFC is a huge hit over here- way bigger than in the States. Who knew Africans would love the Colonel so much?) The pink line traces the different legs of our trip.Lisa studied in Cape Town for a semester two years ago and had friends in town who gave us directions to their church. I was imagining Lisa's "friends" to be young girls but one of her friends is the minister of the Presbyterian church we arrived at. (I was very confused when we showed up and he was wearing a collar like a priest. "Is Lisa secretly Catholic?" I wondered...earlier that week I had dreamt that Lisa was secretly a mormon which only added to my confusion. For the record, despite my confusion, Lisa is a Christian.) We took our seats in the pews and looking around, we realized we were the only ones under the age of 60 except for the minister and his wife and there was not a single black person in the congregation. Are we really in Africa?? I asked myself that questions many times while in Cape Town- it did not feel like the Africa I know. (This was the first side of Africa that Chris saw so he was convinced that the whole "poverty in Africa" line was a giant hoax and was about to tell his friends to stop sending money. Then he visited Maputo...) Due to South Africa's major electricity crisis, the country often has power outages and for the duration of the service, we worshiped with only natural lighting. (One of my quirks is that I hate neon lighting and love natural lighting so I was thrilled) We all had a good laugh when matches couldn't be found to light the candles so the minister asked if there were any smokers and a man walked to the front with his lighter. I just can't picture that happening in the States, especially in California where smokers are ostracized.

The sermon was a great one entitled "5 Things the Cross Offers." Let me share these 5 things quickly:
(1) Hope which overcomes doubt.
(2) Grace and Forgiveness which overcomes our failures.
(3) Courage which overcomes our fears.
(4) Life which overcomes death.
(5) Purpose which overcomes emptiness.

After the service the minister and his wife invited us to their home for a traditional South African braai (pronounced bry and is a bbq). A Brazilian man recently told me that Americans get antsy if you visit their home for longer than 2 hours and I tried to deny this at first but then realized it is kind of true. We however stayed with this amazing family for about 5 hours and would have stayed longer if we didn't have a concert to sneak into. I missed my little nephew terribly as I played with their three year old son who gave us a lesson in how to play cricket. He was a riot and I still got to experience the traditional egg hunt as he ran around looking for chocolate eggs. Kristin (the minister's wife) lent us bathing suits (Chris excluded) since it was scorching hot and their ice-cold pool felt amazing. We enjoyed wonderful conversation, an amazing feast and fantastic fellowship and left their home grinning. I don't know if you ever do this, but sometimes I meet people and think, "I would like to be more like that person." I thought that about Kristin because she was so hospitable and made us feel like we were family after only a few hours together. The following are our "family photos."

After leaving our new friends, we headed to the Kirstenbosch gardens where they have concerts on Sundays at sunset. We got a little lost heading to the gardens (noticing a pattern) but were able to stop by the University of Cape Town which is one of thee only campuses that might be more beautiful than Westmont. In the picture we are on the steps of the school which is set against an amazing backdrop of mountains with a view of the whole city. Since we were late to the gardens, we didn't buy tickets to the concert since it was almost over but still went through the gardens. As we walked along, we heard what Lisa described as "spooky, Opera music" and hurried along to investigate. We turned a corner and stumbled upon a HUGE grassy hill, covered in picnic blankets with a full orchestra playing incredible music. (just that one song was spooky) Lisa and Chris convinced the guard to let us in for the last 10 minutes but then it turned out the orchestra decided to play for another hour and half. Please remember that I come from a sports family- we don't do things like orchestras and operas or ballets, so I had never heard an orchestra live. Wow. I have never heard such beautiful music before and I literally cried. We maneuvered our way to the very front and were close enough to hear the musicians turn their pages. I was blown away and sat in awe and wonder. Please take note of the conductor's incredible, plaid pants.

I finally understood the analogy I had just read by C.S. Lewis in his "Weight of Glory" about the beauty of music. He mentions that when listening to beautiful music, we have a longing to be a part of the music, not just listen to it. I felt this desire from myself and from the entire crowd as we were mesmerized by the beautiful songs- it wasn't enough to listen. At the end, people were clapping along with the song and even dancing- mind you, this was an orchestra we were listening to. Lewis says in such moments when there is an inexplicable feeling of intense longing, a longing to be a part of the beauty, that beauty is acting as a messenger for God.

" For a few minutes we have had the illusion of belonging to that world. Now we wake to find that it is no such thing. We have been mere spectators. Beauty has smiled, but not to welcome us; her face was turned in our direction, but not to see us..We pine. The sense that in this universe we are treated as strangers, the longing to be acknowledged, to meet with some response, to bridge some chasm that yawns between us and reality, is part of our inconsolable secret. The promise of glory becomes highly relevant to our deep desire. For glory means good report with God, acceptance by God, response, acknowledgement, and welcome into the heart of things. The door on which we have been knocking all our lives will open at last."

Indeed, as I sat, spellbound listening to the orchestra in one of the most beautiful settings with the sun sinking behind the mountains, I heard the message from beauty- there is more, this is only a taste, one day you will experience this beauty more fully. It was so fitting that I experienced this intense longing to be with Jesus on the day that He made it possible.

Chuckle Causers

2008-03-20T14:25:00.000-07:00

I haven't had any "pee-your-pants" moments recently but daily I am blessed with bits of randomness which makes me smile and chuckle. Here are the most recent "chuckle-causers."

* The twins. When we pulled up to the village they were both running around stark naked after just getting their baths. Just two hours later they would be both be filthy. These two terrors were a riot at church today since they have reached the terrible two stage. If we had been in America in church, their parents may have gotten some dirty looks. The congregation has built a temporary "fort" where we meet for church and these two seemed determined to tear it apart. They both hung from the branches and laughed their little heads off during the sermon. I take back my first comment of this entry because there was indeed a "pee-your-pants" moment but it wasn't from me. While hanging, they were having so much fun that they both decided to pee right then and there; soaking their camo shorts. They then dragged their feet and legs through the fresh pools of urine beneath their hanging bodies and the women all started snickering. They rolled in the dirt, ate the dirt, then wiped the dirt on all victims in their paths (me included) I couldn't help but think of my own crazy twin brothers and how they once poured syrup all over the back of our van.

* Watching adults learn to swim. When we arrived at the public pool for swim class the other day, there were about 30 men lined up on the edge of pool, standing straight and looking very focused. I assumed they were some sort of Mozambican swim squad until their "coach" made the first person dive in. Belly flop. Flailing. Whole class laughing. Friend jumps in to pull the poor victim to the side. This was the pattern that continued as each of the non-swimmers was forced to dive in the deep end without knowing how to swim. They all were great sports about it and laughed at themselves once they were pulled to safety. Interesting teaching strategy. Their laughter was contagious and I couldn't blame my kids for being distracted by all the belly-flopping and laughing.

* Eating a "Mozambican donut." I am a sucker for donuts. I love them and crave them often. I knew they wouldn't taste the same here but my goodness... When I bought the donut the girl tried to tell me something in Portuguese but I didn't understand and did the typical "nod and smile." Apparently she was trying to tell me that the donut I had pointed to was days old and hard as a rock. I discovered this once I bit down and felt like I had bit into a tire. (or something else that is really hard, all I can think of is a tire right now)

* Walking past my friend the "thumbs up man." This is what I have named my new friend. Every day I pass by him and he gives me thee most enthusiastic thumbs up I have ever seen and smiles so huge that it always brightens my day.

* Watching Natasha jump off the high dive. She just learned how to jump in a pool from the side and then decided she could also go off the high dive. Once she got to the top though, she freaked and I don't know why but it is very entertaining to watch someone terrified of jumping try to summon the courage and leap. She contemplated sitting on the edge of the board and lowering herself down but in the end (after about 3 minutes of pacing the board) her brother snuck up behind her and pushed her off. She screamed like she had seen the Grim Reaper, plugged her nose and hit the water hard but resurfaced gasping for air while laughing.

* My students' random comments. The other day out of the blue Coleson announced, "I hate this black table!" Then he looked up and saw Peter looking at him and quickly said, "Not because it's black; just because it's small."

* Judith cooking "liver cheese" for dinner. My friend Judith is German and invited me over for some "German meat." This sounded intriguing so I went over after first eating cereal. When I saw the meat I almost burst out laughing. It looked exactly like "head cheese" which is a meat I bought in college and used for a practical joke because it looked and smelled so nasty. I kept my cool though and inquired as to what type of meat we would be eating and when she said, "Well, it has a really weird name..." I grew even more suspicious. Could her "liver cheese" be the head cheese sold in American deli departments? I'm still not 100% sure "liver cheese" is in fact "head cheese" but if they are the same, I ate chopped up pig snouts and hooves....and liked it.

* Teaching more than just my students how to dive. The other day I was standing on edge of the pool modeling how to dive when my girls started chuckling. "What's so funny?" I asked. "Ummmm....Miss Katie, all those men behind you are staring when you bend over." Ahhhhhh!!! I quickly dove in, blushing.

* Listening to Ude and Oko speak words in Xhosa. These brothers daily entertain me and recently they revealed that they are from the Xhosa tribe in South Africa which uses clicks in their language. Perhaps this is not so culturally sensitive of me but I now often make them say words because it sounds so cool.

* Scaring Lisa and Sabina. In the picture we are at Kruger Park back in November. I have so much fun with these girls and I especially had fun with them the other night when I scared the scream out of them. We were all walking to Bible study but I was coming from my place and was a couple yards behind them without them knowing. There is one stretch of this walk that is a little scary because there have been shootings there and it isn't well-lit. Perfect spot for scaring. I tip-toed across the street and started giggling before I even reached them. Once I was directly behind them, I yelled, "Boo!!!" really loud and watched them both jump and the blood drain from their faces. They did not think it was as funny as I did but getting in a good scare is so satisfying. The Mozambicans thought it was pretty funny too.

* Being chased by stray dogs. Ok, this actually didn't make me chuckle because I hate being chased but I laughed about it afterwards. A pack of stray dogs have staked out territory which is right in the middle of my running route so I try to sneak past them with Gizmo but am not always successful. Last time three of them sprinted after us and Gizmo tried to run towards them making it quite difficult to run fast. We escaped only to run into two more dogs and this time one of them only had 3 legs. Being chased by a 3-legged dog is no laughing matter. It's quite terrifying.

* Watching my students struggle to recite their memory verse. This was actually quite painful- like watching someone sing a solo who can't find the right key. At the monthly potluck the 9th and 10th graders had to recite a bunch of verses that they clearly had not memorized completely. I was the one in the crowd with the shaking shoulders because it was so bad. I let them redeem themselves and recite the poem we had memorized next and they nailed it but I still give them a hard time about their awful recitation. Below is a picture of them struggling to recite and a picture of me with Miria and Canan. For the record, I'm not the one giving the bunny ears.

* Playing ping-pong with Lisa. On Friday night I went to "Cafe Shalom" with four of my girlfriends here. The cafe was started by a missionary here as an alternative place for young people to hang out. After destroying the wall trying to play darts, we moved onto the ping-pong table. You may not know this about me but I am a little competitive when it comes to sports and games. Ok, a lot competitive. I was doing good keeping my cool and pretending like I didn't care if I messed up until I played Lisa. She is also a "closet competitor" and when we realized we are equally matched in our ping-pong abilities, things got serious. The other three girls mocked us for our serious faces and how frustrated we would get with ourselves when we messed up. We hogged the table for a good 40 minutes, I worked up a sweat and had a blast. We will have a rematch very soon. (obviously I didn't win best out of 3 and need a chance to redeem myself) We were, however, both able to laugh at ourselves afterwards for how intense we both got.

* Mafat threatening to wipe a booger on me if i wouldn't burp. Mafat is this adorable little twin and his mom was late to pick up the boys the other day when I was on check-out duty. Since we were the only ones left at school, I shared a secret talent of mine with them and belched. Loud. I know, I shouldn't be bragging about this and I have honestly stopped belching in recent years because I know how disgusting it is but occasionally I just have to let it out. Please don't ask me to belch for you- it makes me feel like a freak show. Well, after I did it once, they had to hear it again and when I said no, Mafat picked his nose and chased me around the school threatening to wipe it on me if I wouldn't burp again. I had flashbacks to Heidi chasing me with boogers on her fingers and I gave in.

* Riding to school in the back of a truck. My usual ride to school showed up last week in a truck with only room in the back. I was happy to jump in back with some of my students but got some really funny looks from Mozambicans and had some crazy hair dos all week.

* Learning Lisa's "novelty dances." I spent the night at Lisa and Sabina's and after dinner they started moving the couches...."Ummmm, girls, what do you have planned?" "Oh we are going to do novelty dances now." Yeah, like that's normal- that's part of the reason I like these two so much- they are NOT normal. For the next hour Lisa taught us a bunch of really strange but fun dances that her hick town in North Carolina does once a month when they get together for square-dancing. In the pictures below we are re-enacting several of the dance moves, one of which involves pretending to be an ostrich. For the record, it was super hot in their apartment...

I am so thankful that God has such a great sense of humor and blesses me with so much laughter no matter where I am in the world.

Don't Be Anxious. Trust Me. Live Today.

2008-03-07T14:34:00.000-08:00

Today is March 7th. In exactly 3 months I will be "leavin on a jet plane, don't know when I'll be back again..." On March 7, 2006, I was wearing the pictured shirt although if you asked me to find Mozambique on a map, it would have taken me a few minutes. On March 7, 2007, I was struggling to figure out how to tell my principal I would be moving to Mozambique, totally clueless of the amazing things God had in store for me. So now it's March 7, 2008 and in 3 months I'll leave behind this dark, beautiful, mysterious continent and embrace life in Southern California. I'll leave behind the sweet fellowship I've found here with my Christian family and embrace my actual family. I'll leave behind my new friends from around the world and embrace my old friends. So what will March 7, 2009 hold for me? Only He knows. It's hard not to think about home and the future as my departure dates creeps closer and I have mixed emotions about it. I am thrilled when I think about how I will be able to be with my family every day. (I was especially missing them the other day when I heard about our typical taco feast on Sunday and then heard about how much fun they were all having with Travis after his "nose job." He broke his nose and after they operated, he was acting loopy and crazy because of the meds and saying things like, "Oh man, my doctor is great. He fixed my nose so good. I'm gonna myspace him and tell him." ) When people don't understand my sense of humor I tell them, "You need to meet my brothers, then you'd understand." With siblings as strange as mine, there was no hope for me to turn out normal.

While I can't wait to laugh at and with my incredible family, I am also fearful of the reverse culture shock that I'm pretty certain is going to rock me. I am fearful of the "known." I love that I have no clue what will happen to me here from day to day but at home, I can anticipate what typical weeks and weekends will be like. (Don't get me wrong, I love my life at home...I just am growing addicted to the spontaneity and adventure of Africa and fear that I will long for this when I'm home.) I am fearful of falling back into complacency in my comfort zone; of losing my hunger for and dependence upon God.

I just read the following in my daily devotions: "We have a natural tendency to find our "comfort zone" and then position ourselves firmly in place. If you are in a situation or lifestyle where you are perfectly capable of handling everything, you have stopped growing in your understanding of God. God's desire is to take you from where you are to where He wants you to be. You will always be one step of obedience away from the next truth God wants you to learn about Him. You may experience a restlessness whereby you sense that there is far more you should be learning and experiencing about the Father. At times, this will mean that you should move to a new location or take a new job. It could indicate that you need a deeper dimension added to your prayer life. Perhaps you need to trust God to a degree you never have before."

I was so convicted by this because I am so guilty of finding that comfort zone, and plopping down and then get frustrated when I feel like my faith is stagnant. However, it's been almost impossible for me to do that here which I have loved and which is why I have been able to grow so much more in my relationship with God while I've been here than I did at home. I want to continue to be stretched and grow while I am at home and need to find ways to keep from settling in a comfort zone.

With all my fears and anxiety about the future, I realize that I am being cowardly and not listening and taking to heart God's promises. When I have found myself feeling anxious about life 4 months from now, He has spoken to me through a number of different means; His word, books, on-line sermons, friends, Nooma videos, and of course through songs. I haven't heard His audible voice but His message to me through these different means has been crystal clear: "Don't be anxious. Trust me. Live today. " Simple huh? Funny how often I have to be reminded of this. One of my favorite verses is Philippians 4:6-7 which reads as follows:

"Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus."

So I will pray that God will prepare me for my transition back into life in America and know that He is going before me just as He came before me in Africa. I will pray with thanksgiving for He has showered His blessings on me. In praying these prayers, what do you know- I have felt the "peace of God" enveloping me and pushing out all my fears about next year.

I have also been heavily convicted about having these fears because it reveals my lack of trust in God. Don't I trust that His plan is best? Don't I trust that He knows my needs? Don't I trust that He is a God of adventure and in serving Him and surrendering to Him, the journey of life will ALWAYS be adventurous? I expect too little from God too often. My prayers are too small and my faith is too limited. I was reminded of this as I started reading The Weight of Glory which is a book composed of sermons from C.S. Lewis. As I read the first line of the following passage I thought I was reading scripture because it was so familiar...then I remembered the chaplain at Westmont quoted this passage about twice a week for 4 years.

"Indeed, if we consider the unblushing promises of reward and the staggering nature of the rewards promised in the Gospels, it would seem that Our Lord finds our desires not too strong, but too weak. We are half-hearted creatures, fooling about with drink and sex and ambition when infinite joy is offered us, like an ignorant child who wants to go on making mud pies in a slum because he cannot imagine what is meant by the offer of a holiday at the sea. We are far too easily pleased."

I desire adventure and am worried I won't find it at home but God seems to be saying that my measly desires are too small. I am expecting too little from Him. Plus, how could I doubt Him when I see where He's brought me so far. I bought the shirt in the picture 2 or 3 years ago, before I had any idea where Mozambique is on a map. It was on sale at Nordstrom Rack and sounded like an exotic place so I bought it, never imagining that God had planned to bring me there/here one day. I imagine He must have chuckled when He saw me buy the shirt. He had wonderful plans for me then and I know He still does so I feel quite silly about my worries. While I jogged around the OC proudly wearing my Mozambique shirt, I wish I could have had a glimpse of the future; a glimpse into the plans God had for me for 2007-2008. I don't know if I would have believed it if He had shown me some of the following glimpses:

A glimpse of the friendships I would make with the people living in the bush in Mozambique.

A glimpse of the singing we would do without any instruments and the bonding that would happen with the children thanks to silly faces.

A glimpse of me wearing that very same shirt but at a public pool in Mozambique, teaching 23 junior highers and high schoolers proper swimming technique. (I would have laughed if I had seen that glimpse)

A glimpse of the funny faces we would be making and the fun times we would have.

His plans are truly great. To quote my Aunt Letty, "God’s will, His way, is always without a doubt the best, the most creative, the most blessed." As long as I continue to seek after His will and obey, what do I have to worry about? Sure His will may involve tough times but I trust that those times are meant to draw me closer to Him.

"Don't be anxious. Trust me. Live today." Part of not worrying about the future involves comprehending that there might not be a tomorrow. God has spoken to me about that last part and the importance of living each day for Him and enjoying each breathe He gives me. I don't want to start focusing on what will happen in America and thus miss out on anything here in Mozambique. Three months sounds short to me in comparison to a year but so much can happen in three months. So much can happen in 3 weeks (my view of the world changed after 3 weeks in India), 3 days (the world was forever changed when Jesus rose from the dead after 3 days), even 3 hours (the events of December 7, 1941 and September 11, 2001) My point is that God can do a lot in 3 months if I am willing to let Him move in my life and not focused too much on the future.

I need to keep my eyes open to see God's hand moving in and around me and live every single day with the expectation that I will see Him; that I will hear from Him, and that I will fall more in love with Him as I seek Him. My prayer is that I will cherish every moment of my remaining time here in Mozambique; that I would not stress about the future but rather, trust His plans and expect more of Him. This week's theme song comes with thanks to Megan Terrell who wrote to me to tell me I needed to download this new song she had been singing on the top of her lungs. (hopefully not too many people were in the vicinity. Sorry Meg. I have very few friends who can actually hit a note and I wonder if I befriend such people on purpose so I won't feel inferior with my awful voice)

Steven Curtis Chapman - Miracle Of The Moment
From the album The Moment

It’s time for letting go
All of our if only’s
‘Cause we don’t have a time machine
And even if we did
Would we really want to use it?
Would we really want to go change everything?
‘Cause we are who and where and what we are for now (read that line again)
And this is the only moment we can do anything about

Chorus:
So breathe it in and breathe it out
Listen to your heartbeat
There’s a wonder in the here and now
It’s right there in front of you
And I don’t want you to miss
The miracle of the moment

There’s only one who knows
What’s really out there waiting
In all the moments yet to be
And all we need to know
Is He’s out there waiting
To Him the future’s history
And He has given us a treasure called right now
And this is the only moment we can do anything about

And if it brings you tears
Then taste them as they fall
And let them soften your heart
And if it brings you laughter
Then throw your head back
And let it go, let it go
You gotta let it go
Listen to your heartbeat

Listen to your heartbeat? That line might be a bit cheesy- it is Steven Curtis Chapman so what do you expect, but I love the central message: You are alive right now so appreciate where God has you right now. You can't do anything about the future except trust in the only One who knows your future. Thanks Stephen- can always count on you to inspire:)

"Don't be anxious. Trust me. Live today." I'm trying God.

Stan Gaede Said to be a Life-Long Learner

2008-03-01T10:30:00.000-08:00

Stan Gaede, previous president of Westmont College, was somewhat of a celebrity on our tiny campus. T-shirts, caps, even bobble-heads were made of the famous Gaede. (My brothers got such a kick out of his name since instead of calling me Katie, they often refer to be as "gay-de.") A semi-celebrity + a small campus = several awkward encounters with yours truly. He once pulled up next to my car as my friends and I had the windows rolled down and were singing "Testify" by Avalon at the top of our lungs. Before taking the picture tot he left, Lesley said, "We love you!" and I too felt the need to explain why we wanted a picture and said, "You're famous." Smooth Katie, very smooth. However, my favorite Stan run-in was when Megan Fate smashed my ice cream cone in my face so I was retaliating and had her in a head lock right as Stan came up behind us and said, "What are you doing?" I heard "How are you doing?" and replied, "Goo-ood. How are you?" I realized my error when Megan looked at me and started laughing hysterically and Stan looked at me with pity. Why all the reminiscing about Stan Gaede? I learned some valuable lessons from him during my years at Westmont and one thing I will always remember him advocating is being a "life-long learner." At the time, I didn't really give this concept much thought but in recent months I've been thinking more and more about how much I love to learn new things and how important it is that I continue to learn and grow and not grow stagnant in my faith. That being said, here is a list of things I have been learning recently:

* How to ride a chapa! In recent entries I've written extensively about these public vans which wreak havoc throughout Maputo. I've often laughed as they whiz by me with 30 people on board when it should only hold 12 passengers. People sit on laps and stand with their rears out the door as the often-times-drunk drivers weave in and out of traffic. Not having a car here, I assumed I would be using this form of public transportation often but I actually have only used it twice and both times I was escorted by a bunch of older boys from the orphanage. I always opt for power-walking rather than dishing out the 5 mets (25 cents) for a risky chapa ride. The other day I was running late and needed to get to Lisa and Sabina's house pronto so after being in Maputo for almost 9 months, I rode a chapa by myself for the first time! It was actually incredibly simple since the one I needed drives right by my house and then goes right past Lisa and Sabina's but I was a bit intimidated not being able to communicate if I needed to. Lisa had coached me on how to say, "stop here" in Portuguese but in all the excitement of finally boarding a chapa, I totally forgot what I was supposed to say. I spent the ride packed in like a sardine, sharing a seat with the man taking the money, fretting over what I was going to say when we got to Lisa's house. As we neared her house I finally concluded I would go with a resounding, "Ummmmmm" and point out the window and hand over the dough. Luckily I didn't have to sound like a moron since right before I said "Ummm" someone in the back called out in Portuguese to stop.

* I should preview all videos before showing them in class. I learned this the hard way the other day in US History. I was showing World War II footage and never imagined there would be anything inappropriate. Wow. In explaining the context of the Battle of Stalingrad, suddenly tons of fully nude men were in the river moving a boat. Why? Why on earth weren't they clothed? You're fighting a war for goodness sake! Put on some clothes. Of course my kids all giggled and I blushed. Whoops.

* How to cook! Ok, so I'm no Martha but I am getting down the basics. You would laugh if you saw some of the things I type into google. Some of my latest accomplishments made from scratch: Rice, tortillas, pancakes, and spaghetti sauce. These are all things that I honestly assumed always came ready-made in boxes, packages, or jars. When I first made tortillas, it took a few times to figure out how to make it into a circle so I experimented and in the picture you will see my "Africa tortilla." I am still perfecting the "pancake flip" and find myself laughing more than one is supposed to when cooking pancakes. Ironically, the pancake in the photo was tastier than all the other nice, circle pancakes. I also discovered that half-cooked, refrigerated chocolate chip pancakes are my new favorite snack. Madalena was very proud when she returned from her 3 weeks in South Africa to find me cooking away and informed me that now I am ready to get married- apparently this is a typical Brazilian saying; once you can cook, you can marry.

* What it means to "be surrendered" to God. I remember growing up and singing lots of songs about surrender and my youth pastor would often talk about surrendering all aspects our lives to God but I was always kind of confused. My thoughts back then: "I want to be totally surrendered but how do you know if you are surrendered? And if you're not, how do you actually surrender? Practically speaking, what does surrender look like?" I didn't come up with great answers then but one thing I am realizing is that when I thought I was "surrendered to God" in all areas of my life, I was kidding myself. I'm realizing that complete surrender is a daily action and a daily struggle. Every single day there are multiple moments when, if I pause and think, I can consciously choose my way or God's way, my attitude or His, my perspective or His. If I am truly surrendered, I will choose His way every time- I will love and treat people how He wants me to. If I am truly surrendered, I won't be battling against my will so often because my will will be His will. (Too many "wills" in one sentence?) I am still grappling with this idea of surrender and asking God to show me when I am clinging to my own will and refusing to surrender.

I recently read a passage by Francois Fenelon which addresses this idea of complete surrender. He was a member of the court of King Louis XIV of

France

but was banished by the king after he was denounced by Pope Innocent XII for "having loved God too much, and man too little." Interesting guy who went on to become an amazing pastor and wrote the following: (I know some of you will be tempted to skim read over this next part- I know I do when some people put quotes on their blogs, but I encourage you not to skim. This is great stuff.)

"Christian perfection is not so severe, tiresome, and constraining as we think. It asks us to be God's from the bottom of our hearts. And since we thus are God's, everything that we do for him is easy. Those who are God's are always glad, when they are not divided, because they only want what God wants and want to do for him all that he wishes. Peace of conscience, liberty of heart, the sweetness of abandoning ourselves in the hands of God, the joy of always seeing the light grow in our hearts, finally, freedom from the fears and insatiable desires of the times, multiply a hundredfold the happiness which the true children of God possess in the midst of their crosses, if they are faithful.

What God asks of us is a will which is no longer divided between him and any creature. It is a will pliant in his hands which wants without reserve whatever he wants. Happy are those who give themselves to God! ...The true Christian, whatever the misfortunes which Providence heaps upon him, wants whatever comes and does not wish for anything which he or she does not have. The more one loves God, the more one is content.

They know by experience that the yoke of the Lord is "easy and light," that we find in him "rest from the soul," and that he comforts those who are weary and overburdened, as he himself has said. But woe unto those weak and timid souls who are divided between God and their world! They are torn by passion and remorse at the same time. They fear the judgments of God and those of others. How unworthy of God and of ourselves to want always to stay where we are! Our whole life was only given us to advance us by great strides toward our heavenly country.

There is only one way to love God: to take not a single step without him, and to follow with a brave heart wherever he leads. All those who live the Christian life, and yet would very much like to keep a little in with the world, run great risk of being among the lukewarm of whom it is said they will be "spewed out of the mouth of God."

God has little patience with those weak souls who say to themselves, "I shall go this far and no farther." Is it up to the creature to make the law for his Creator? What would a king say of a subject, or a master of a servant, who only served him in his own way, who feared to care too much for his interests, and who was embarrassed in public because of belonging to him? What will the King of Kings say to us if we act like these cowardly servants?"

Wow. I can see why a French king would not like to hear this theology- well any king at that matter. I understand why even the Pope would be rubbed the wrong way by his teachings because they are so bold, straightforward and tough to swallow. How often do I "serve him in my own way" and like to "keep a little with this world?" I was very convicted by this.

Ok, back to things I've been learning...

* How to distinguish between male and female turtles. Henrik drove up the other day and then pulled out a turtle from the back seat and informed me that since the shell was curved at the rear-end side, this was a female turtle. While he was giving me my lesson in turtle anatomy, she got a bit annoyed and started peeing which sprayed all over Henrik's feet. It was the highlight of my day. Although Lisa gets to roam the large garden in the yard, I feel bad for this turtle because occasionally Gizmo and Simba (his puppy that is still with us) treat her like a soccer ball. I came out the other day and she was fully in her shell while Gizmo was running at her and literally hitting her with his paws. (Yes, I named her Lisa. Anyone who is a true Saved by the Bell fan will understand) I liberated Lisa from the dogs the other day, quite certain she was going to pee on me at any second but she didn't. You may be wondering why Henrik brought home a turtle. The answer is: he's just random like that and asked his friend if he could have Lisa and see if she would mate with the other turtle we already have.

* How to diagram sentences. I remember flipping through the Grammar textbook at the beginning of the year and shuddering. Having never diagrammed sentences, I was super intimidated by the whole process and worried about having to teach it to a bunch of kids who have been doing it for years. (There is only so much "b-s-ing" a teacher can get away with.) The picture to the left with my much darker hair is proof of my previous apprehension. I've been learning with my students though and sincerely enjoying the process. I have been admitting when I'm wrong (This happens even though I have the answers- how does this keep happening?) and discovering that it is like a puzzle to diagram a tough sentence and I am enjoying the challenge. My kiddos scoffed when I told them I thought it was kinda fun but I think some of them secretly enjoy it too but they still have to pretend to be cool. Earlier in the year Sabina opened my eyes to the wonder of grammar and sentence diagramming when she informed me of the following:

Buffalo buffalo Buffalo buffalo buffalo buffalo Buffalo buffalo" is a grammatically correct sentence used as an example of how homonyms and homophones can be used to create complicated constructs." We spent way too much time discussing this and figuring it out but I can pinpoint this as the moment my appreciation for diagramming began. Thanks Sabina. For the curious, the sentence means: Bison from Buffalo, New York who are intimidated by other bison in their community also happen to intimidate other bison in their community. What would we do without Wikipedia?

* Zimbabwe is in deep trouble. Being a neighboring country of Zimbabwe, Mozambicans talk a lot about this nation in turmoil under the current leadership of crazy Robert Mugabe. During the 90's Mozambique was wrecked by civil war and was thee poorest nation in the world but the transformation since the war days has been incredible. Sadly, now our neighbor seems to be approaching that infamous # 1 spot for poorest country in the world. The reason: Mugabe. In 2000 he took the farms from the White land-owners and distributed them to black farmers who didn't know how to run a large farm. This, along with other "reforms" have led to Zimbabwe having an 80% unemployment rate and around 150,000 % hyperinflation! To make matters even worse, Mugabe just passed another law which will take the businesses away from the White business owners. On March 29 there will be elections and hopefully Mugabe will be removed from power and a new leader will make wise decisions to bring this nation in turmoil back on track without any craziness like in Kenya. I admit that when I first moved to Mozambique, I had never heard the name Robert Mugabe even though he is on a list of a few world leaders not allowed to travel to the United States. I didn't even realize Mozambique shares a border with Zimbabwe. (I know- pretty sad for a history and geography teacher to admit this but I also share it in case I made you feel bad for not knowing he was)

* People actually do win those cars in the mall. I know this because one of my 11th graders won a car! Not being able to drive, he sold it for $20,000. I always thought those things were gimicks. Lesson learned.

* Europe considers a "youth" to be under the age of 26. This is very disheartening for a number of reasons. First off, I will be 26 in May and still feel like I'm 13- how do you explain that Europe? Because of this European error, it appears that on Trent and I's backpacking adventure, I will have to cough up more dough than him since I will never get the "youth" discounts. I'm quite upset about this and am considering seeking out Prince William to discuss a possible change. (I realize he cannot nor will not ever be able to do something about it but did I mention that I learned how to cook, thus making me ready for marriage?)

* Speaking of Europe, I am also learning all about the kings and queens of England in my World History class and am finding it fascinating. We watched scenes from the latest Elizabeth movie and wow, that Kate Blanchett can really give a captivating speech. When she was dressed in armor, addressing the troops before the Spanish Armada reached England, I got the chills and had to refrain from cheering at the end. While mentioning the famous, "Virgin queen," I must mention the awkward moment from last week. I have a very vivid memory of the day I learned what a "virgin" meant. It was 5th grade and Clint Calory came to school asking everyone if they were virgins and no one else had any clue what it meant. I remember the panic I felt that he would ask me and I wouldn't know what to say and would have to admit my naivite. I had a flashback to that awful day when at lunch one of the fifth grade boys was asking his classmates if they were virgins. (why is 5th grade the year we seem to learn this?) I saved the others from my past panic by announcing, "You are all virgins now stop talking about it." Caris couldn't help but go on and share his knowledge and I heard him whisper, "It's when a woman has not yet done bad stuff with a man."

* How to spell "fricassee." I hope you, like me, are thinking, "what the heck is that?" I started giving my English class their pre-quiz for spelling and started laughing when I came to this word and admitted, 'Ok, I have no clue what this word is.' They had actually had the same word in past years so knew that it was a cooking term and knew how to spell it. I felt it unfair to punish them for not knowing how to spell it since I didn't know how to pronounce it so I sounded it out for them. "Fric- ass- ee." Of course that led to a bunch of giggles but there was no getting around it and now they'll remember how to spell fricassee. Yes, someone actually did misspell it after I gave the answer. Yet another reminder that my kids aren't hanging on my every word.

* How to pray scripture. I hesitate in adding this to the list because I don't want to sound "holier than thou." Truthfully, when I'd heard this phrase "praying scripture," in the past, I didn't understand what it meant. So when I showed up to Bible study and Molly announced that instead of discussing Hebrews 12, we would be praying it, I confessed that I didn't know how to do that. After reading through the chapter as we always do, we then turned to a time of prayer when we thanked and praised God for the specific things mentioned in the chapter: for the examples of witnesses before us, for discipline, for treating us like sons, for Jesus and his role as mediator, and for a "kingdom that cannot be shaken." We asked Him to help us, "fix our eyes on Jesus" as verse 2 mentions and help us to "live in peace with all me and to be holy" as verse 14 says. As we continued to pray, we also searched the passage, thus having our eyes opened and I was more focused in this time of prayer than I think I have ever been before in a "group prayer" setting. In listening to the prayers of others and praying myself, I felt like I dug deeper into this chapter of Hebrews than any of the other chapters and came away thinking, "I need to do this more often." I highly recommend this strategy when you want to talk with God but feel like you are treating Him like Santa or a genie but aren't sure what else to pray. (I say this because sometimes I feel that way- that I come to Him just asking for things) Read one of the Psalms and then pray it by using different quotes from the passage to praise God.

TGIF

2008-02-25T13:51:00.000-08:00

Just as I have always loved going to school, I have also always LOVED the weekends. The hands on the clock on Friday afternoons have always seemed to crawl as I have longingly stared at them, eager for the weekend to begin. As a student, I never realized that teachers look forward to the weekends as much or more than the kids. Growing up, weekends meant pool parties, bbqs, slumber parties, church, movies, basketball games, KFC lunches, Saturday morning cartoons, and of course TGIF on Friday nights. Every kid growing up in the early nineties should be well-acquainted with Urkel, the Tanner family, and curly-haired Cory Matthews. (side note: when my family went to Mexico this past summer, we were on the same plane as Pauly Shore and Ben Savage- they were not travelling together for the record- and after debating if it truly was the infamous "Cory Matthews" grown-up, we heard another group of girls in their twenties giggling and talking about Topanga and we knew it was him. And yes, that is how you spell her name, I looked it up.) Those of you who have no idea what I am talking about- I am sorry but you have been deprived of some high quality television and I didn't even mention the golden goose of shows growing up: Saved By the Bell.

In thinking about my weekends here in Mozambique, I came to the realization that lately they have been surprisingly similar to my weekends growing up.

Weekends here have often consisted of BBQs and pool parties. Just tonight we had yet another "Brazilian style BBQ" which includes incredibly salty steak which is delicious.
When I hear "pool party," I assume everyone will be swimming. Wrong. Apparently in grown-up language, pool party means, "kids can swim but grown-ups just stand by the pool." Still very unfamiliar with this foreign language, I wore my suit or "swimming costume" as it is referred to over here, and was very disappointed to find only children in the pool. Since it was over 100 degrees, of course I couldn't resist jumping in and teaching all the kids my favorite pool games. Then I went and pushed off the wall too hard during a round of "colors" and my bottoms were at my ankles. Excellent. One of the girls in the pool is a student of mine and I'm pretty positive she saw my white rear- teacher/student relationship forever changed.

The following is a list of things to expect at a typical slumber party at the Hardeman household when I was growing up: movies, junk food, frozen undies, toilet papering, sleeping bag game and chocolate whirlpool game (don't ask), giggling, and a terrifying lecture from my tired, grumpy dad in the middle of the night. There were no frozen undergarments or toilet papering trips at last weeks' slumber party at Lisa and Sabina's, but there was plenty of giggling, junk food, and movie watching. (Granted the "junk food" was banana bread instead of banana splits but it was still sweet. I highly recommend Juno by the way- hilarious.) I am so thankful for Lisa and Sabina because we can all act very grown-up at times but when we're alone, we can get a bit well...I'll let the pictures speak for themselves.

Some things I would like to point out before you can: 1- the rat tail was intentional. 2- apparently my chin disappears into my neck when I sleep. Lisa looks quite angelic while I was drooling and catching flies- thanks a lot Sabina.

Of course church was always an essential part of weekends growing up. I have so many fond memories from Super book Olympics and years of Sunday School at EV Free. I also have vivid memories of squirming and suffering through "big church" during second service. ( I still regret that I was too young to appreciate Chuck Swindoll's preaching) Unfortunately, when I listen to the sermons at the International Church, those same feelings of being trapped in big church resurface. Although they are speaking English, I have to use every ounce of concentration to understand the words they are say and even then, I usually don't understand the point of their message. I confess that I often zone out and read the Bible so I won't fall asleep. How I wish there was a 7 11 across the street so I could come better prepared like I used to!
I don't mean to sound so negative about church here- I love the worship and the time of fellowship. I've finally stopped giggling at the worship leader who opens his eyes way too wide when he sings and have greatly appreciated the worship. Natasha, one of my seniors, is the female lead and has an incredible voice but shares the mic with a girl who may in fact be tone deaf. The other day she was so off that even I, who am pretty tone deaf myself, cringed and then couldn't suppress my laughter when I looked at Natasha's face who couldn't hide her look of surprise and confusion.

Feeling deprived of "spiritual food," I have been listening to the podcasts from Francis Chan and learning and growing from these amazing messages about grace and a right view of God. I highly recommend you listen to his message from February 24 about having a heart for worship. He talks about how all our problems can be solved if we have the right view of God and goes into the passages where prophets have seen God and attempted to describe Him. If we caught just a glimpse of Him, our lives would be radically different: our priorities would shift, our attitudes would change, our problems would shrink. I am praying now for glimpses of God so that I might have a larger view of Him and more reverence for Him. That being said, here is my latest theme song:

I can only imagine
What it will be like
When I walk
By your side

I can only imagine
What my eyes will see
When your face
Is before me
I can only imagine

[Chorus:]
Surrounded by Your glory, what will my heart feel
Will I dance for you Jesus or in awe of you be still
Will I stand in your presence or to my knees will I fall
Will I sing hallelujah, will I be able to speak at all
I can only imagine

I can only imagine
When that day comes
And I find myself
Standing in the Son

I can only imagine
When all I will do
Is forever
Forever worship You
I can only imagine

I realize this song is so overplayed on the radio that it sadly has lost some of it's power but reading the lyrics, I am again reminded of the day when I will meet God face to face and that blows me away. I am trying to imagine this future encounter every morning as I wake up to help me live in a way that will please this great, holy, awesome God we serve.

I also have been attending a worship service on Sunday nights at the US ambassador's home. (OK he's actually the Chargé d'Affaires but I didn't know what that was beforehand and assume most people don't and didn't want to sound like know-it-all throwing in that term and pretending like everyone should know what it is. When Sabina first met him, she asked him what he did at the US Embassy and he said, "Well, I run it." Ha- I'm glad she asked instead of me.) I love these informal services because many of my students attend with their families and the worship is wonderful and I feel like the early Church meeting in a home. However, last Sunday they sang a song a bit too high and knowing my limits, I quit trying right away but Lisa kept going and finally stopped when she saw my shoulders shaking from laughing so hard at her try to hit the incredibly high notes. I also often find myself chuckling during songs because we often sing "Awesome God" by Rich Mullins and I can't help but picture Heidi and I singing it when we were little, thinking we were rapping. ("For the Lord wasn't jokin when he kicked him out of Eden. It wasn't for no reason that He shed His blood..." Gosh we were cool Heid.)

Movies will forever be a part of my weekends and I hope my future husband loves them as much as I do and is willing to "movie-hop" with me. We may not have a Blockbuster here, but Isaac is even better. Isaac is the guy who sells me pirated DVDs which are excellent quality. However, I went against my better judgement and bought, "There Will be Blood" since it was nominated for an Oscar and getting great reviews. Not only was it a terribly boring movie in my opinion, it was quite dark and I watched it with a bunch of missionaries who seemed quite offended when the movie mocked the Church. When it was over Henrik looked at me and said, "Are you embarrassed that you just subjected a bunch of missionaries to that?" Thanks Henrik. Now I am. If you are tempted to debate with me about the merits of this movie and it's central message about greed, the cinematography, yada yada yada, I don't want to hear it- it sucked. Period. However, I have also had great movie experiences- Isaac recommended the movie Once to me and I LOVED it! It's a musical set in Ireland and although a bit slow, the music is amazing and it has a great story.

Instead of watching Saturday morning cartoons, I woke up a few weekends ago and watched Benchwarmers which was on TV A missionary couple was staying in Madalena's room since she had been gone for a few weeks and they joined me in front of the tube. It must have made for an odd site when Henrik walked in to see me sprawled out on the couch in my PJ's watching a somewhat crude comedy with a highly-respected elderly missionary couple, all of us laughing hysterically at David Spade and Napoleon Dynamite. (who knows his real name?) If you haven't seen it, this is another recommendation if you enjoy stupid humor. Trent and Travis are my brothers so of course I have aacquired an appreciation for this type of humor.

The basketball games on the weekends growing up were either mine, Heidi's, the boys', or my dads' teams'. So basically, we spent thousands of hours inside of gyms. The basketball played here a few Friday's ago was quite different. One of my students suggested a "teachers vs. students" game and it finally came together although the teachers only had 5 participants. (remember- we only have 13 teachers total) We took on about 15 kids and barely won, but yes, we won- that's all that matters. Our star player was our librarian from Kenya who is literally blind in one eye and has uglier shooting form than my mom. (sorry mom) She got a blister and said she couldn't continue to run so we parked her under the basket we were shooting at and would chuck the ball to her once Heldio or I got the ball on defense. She actually made about one out of every 10 shots from right under the basket and considering she took about 50 shots, she racked up the points for us. It was pretty hilarious and yes, of course I got competitive and even snapped at Heldio who tried to give me incorrect advice. I need to work on not becoming Dr. Jeckle on the court. (or is the bad one Mr. Hide?) Besides the blind librarian, we also had Xeniaon the teachers' squad. She is the school secretary and pretty much keeps the school running and I love her because she can be totally random and she is Russian! Those of you know me well, know that I ooccasionallyspeak in a Russian accent and to be able to hear a real one every day is so fun for me. Heldio is in front to the right and although he's very "Americanized" he still makes English errors and says funny things like "humping the horn" instead of "honking the horn" and he does wonderful imitations of the other teachers. Golden is to the left and I've never before met someone who is as chipper and hyper as this man is every single day. I have a theory that his wife slips speed into his morning coffee. It was such a fun match and the kids are already demanding a rematch.

After church growing up, we used to beg our parents for KFC. I'm not sure why we loved that chicken so much but we did and ironically KFC is the only fast food in Maputo. (it does not taste the same though) Last weekend we went out to lunch with the whole OC team to a seafood restaurant right on the beach. The fish I ordered had some mondo chompers and stared at me the whole meal. (See picture) A bit different from KFC but equally delicious. We were celebrating the arrival of our newest teamates, the Franks! I met Tony and Leila back in June during training and a long and frustrating process, they have finally arrived. I enjoy them both so much and am thrilled they are finally here. We had a game night last weekend and I realized Tony and I have something in common: we are both gamers. Definition of a gamer: one who loves games and is overly competitive in ALL types of games. Competent players who are determined to win at all costs. We played a rousing rendition of "Cin-QUE!" in which you have to describe and act out celebrities. The highlight was when a very animated Doug tried to act out Winnie the Pooh by skipping, getting stuck in a hole, floating away with an umbrella, winning a race and finally- using the toilet. They never guessed it and we let the time go past just so we could watch him continue on the pot.

Weekends here also mean plenty of long runs with Gizmo, naps in the hammock, grading papers, and trips to the icecream shop. (I was recently mocked because the only times I use Portuguese are to say, "I don't speak Portuguese. All is well with me, thank you- Is all well with you? and I would like 2 scoops in a cup of Cookies and Straciatella, please.") Dinners out with friends are also a regular occurance on the weekends. In the picture I am at the Thai restaurant down the street with 3 fellow teachers.

Sometimes I feel guilty for longing for the weekends like I do. I love teaching but I think it would be impossible to teach with energy and patience without a weekend of rest. Good thinking God:)

The Beach and Death

2008-02-18T09:14:00.000-08:00

I think it's safe to say that almost all White, middle-class kids growing up in Orange County have spent countless summer days exploring the infamous California coast. With a dad who loves to surf and a mom who loves to tan, the Hardeman's made many memories frolicking on the beaches throughout So Cal. One of the best feelings in the world: to be run out of the icy ocean and roll in the hot sand. One of the worst feelings in the world: to get a giant ball of sand stuck in your one-piece that feels like a poopy diaper. (girls- you know what I'm talking about- why doesn't that happen any more?) What I loved about beaches as a kid: Huntington Beach: soft sand stretching for what seemed like miles from the parking lot to the water with a snack shack stocked with junk food. Newport Beach: excellent boogie-boarding waves and frozen bananas on the pier. Bolsa Chica: although a bit dirty, great waves to learn to surf and usually empty life-guard stations to play on. Corona Del Mar: fun jetties to walk on, huge rock formations to play hide-n-seek and the infamous "bouncing tree." Doheny Beach and Dana Point: great camping spots and spots to learn to surf.

Ok, I'll stop now- forgive me for continually using my blog as a chance to walk down memory lane. I have so many fond memories from growing up and when I start reflecting about my experiences here, I can't help but compare them to past experiences. As you may have guessed, the theme of this entry is the beach. I just returned from running along the coast, getting splashed by the waves crashing on the wall and have beach on the brain. Sadly, the beach in Maputo is a little bit disgusting. "The world is our trashcan" philosophy has so polluted the waters that they are a murky bluish-brown tint and the shore is littered with all sorts of debris. Don't get me wrong, the ocean is still beautiful, especially when the sun sets over it and the water sparkles. I was however, thrilled to be able to go to a beach about an hour away which feels like Maui.

To get to this heavenly beach, one must have a 4 x 4 since the dirt roads can get deep at parts. On Saturday Henrik drove Lisa, Sabina and myself to the beach accompanied by 2 other cars of friends. The adventure began when we had to cross the possibly hippo and croc invested river. We rode on a ferry across a bunch of "floating grass" with all the cars and even a tractor on board. (please take note of the tractor driver in the background-love his hat; little did we know we would be getting help from him later in the day. And for those of you who have missed seeing the "awkward fist on shoulder," I brought it back for you)

Here you'll see a bunch of locals existing the ferry and going about their merry ways with all their belongings on their heads. I wish I could pick up this skill! Quick question: would you rather be able to balance anything on your head OR be an incredible juggler? Just wondering. After making it across the ferry, we began the trek through the pot-holed, dirt road when the car in front of us, filled with Henrik's Swedish friends grinded (ground?) to a stop. Sarah's car had died in what literally may be the middle-of-nowhere. The only businesses near by are 2 small restaurants and there are only a few coastal villages. Henrik assessed the situation while Lisa, Sabina and I contributed by singing songs in Shangana and taking pictures of cows. A truck packed with Mozambicans squashed in the back, soon passed by us and stopped. The driver exited and said, "How can I help?" Really? I guess I am used to the highways of Southern California where it is every man for himself and this gesture blew me away. Turns out he wasn't actually able to help, but hey- it's the thought that counts. The next car to pass by was the tractor which had been on the ferry with several kids riding on top. They too immediately stopped to offer help and gave us a giant rope which we used to pull Sarah's car to the beach and later all the way back to Maputo.

I had been to this beach a few months back with Lindsay but I still had "drop-jaw-reflex" when we walked past the brush onto the white sand beach with the turquoise waves leisurely crashing on the shore. Here's a picture of all the girls from our little outing. The ripped woman next to me is Cassia and works for the US government. Don't ask me why but we were talking politics over lunch one day and when I asked her for her opinion about Hillary, she started with, "Well in all the meetings I've been in with her...." Crap Katie! Abort conversation! You're about to look like a moron if you continue. I managed to survive without making a total fool of myself and had a very interesting conversation. Cassia's children were also there whom I know fairly well and it was wonderful because with them playing in the water, I had a perfect excuse to act like a kid in the water without raising eyebrows. Not being "OC kids" they knew little about ocean games so I enlightened them to the 47 different ways to jump over a wave, how to have sand fights, get pummeled by waves and do cartwheels into the water. Pretty sure I had more fun than they did.

We ate an amazing seafood lunch at the one restaurant nearby and headed home. One the way home, I saw an image that will probably never leave me. A few seconds before we arrived on the scene, a man on a bicycle had been hit by car and was lying in the middle of the street. Dead. There were no police yet or even a crowd, just a few people looking at the man in his thirties, lying in the road with blood running from his mouth. I've never witnessed something like this. Suddenly we were all faced with our own immortality and it was a very sobering ride home. I couldn't stop thinking about this man's family and how this day that had been such a fun one for me, would be one of the worst days of their lives. Life is so fleeting. We all know it but it is not something we like to think about- or at least I don't. Life is so precious- it's such a gift and there is such sorrow when it ends. My prayer is that I would have the attitude of David who wrote:

" ' Show me , O LORD, my life's end and the number of my days; let me know how fleeting is my life. You have made my days a mere handbreadth; the span of my years is as nothing before you. Each man's life is but a breath. Man is a mere phantom as he goes to and fro: He bustles about, but only in vain; he heaps up wealth, not knowing who will get it. But now, Lord, what do I look for? My hope is in you." Psalm 39: 4-7

I confess that I have a much too lofty opinion of myself and when I read passages like the one above, I am reminded how small I am. Yes I am dearly loved by the Creator but in the grand scheme of things, my life on earth is just a breath. If I remembered this every day and lived like it, I would live differently- and I hate admitting that. I wish it weren't true. So I continue to pray; I pray like David did that God would show me my life's end and let me know how fleeting is my life. I know He hears me and will answer and I will slowly learn to live with the mindset that my life here is so short compared to eternity. My days are fleeting. Am I making the most of them? Am I daily surrendering to Christ and living to please Him?

As usual, I have a theme song that I have been listening to non-stop for the past few weeks. You country fans may be assuming I am referring to Tim McGraw's "Live Like You Were Dying" and although the message is similar to the lesson I am learning, you are wrong. I highly recommend you throw 99 cents to I-tunes and purchase Laura Story's version of "Mighty to Save." When I run past the ocean, I sing the chorus as loud as I can (don't worry- no one is close enough to suffer except for Gizmo) because it is such a visual reminder to me of how big and mighty my God is.

Mighty To Save

Everyone needs compassion
Love that's never failing
Let mercy fall on me
Everyone needs forgiveness
The kindness of a Saviour
The hope of nations

Saviour
He can move the mountains
My God is mighty to save
He is mighty to save
Forever
Author of salvation
He rose and conquered the grave
Jesus conquered the grave

So take me as You find me
All my fears and failures
Fill my life again
I give my life to follow
Everything I believe in
Now I surrender

Shine Your light and let the whole world see
We're singing
For the glory of the risen King

Backpacking with My Brother

2008-02-14T08:43:00.000-08:00

Opening scene of the video: The year is 1986. We are in our living room. I am 4 years old. Trent is 2, wearing only a diaper, smiling sheepishly in front of the camera while my Dad coxes him to say his name. I intervene and spank Trent hard on his rear and giggle, "Say it Trent! Say it!" Trent responds by giggling shyly and watches me as I continue to hit his diaper and laugh myself silly. (admittedly I was a bit of an odd child but Trent was too) Flash forward 21 years. We are in our backyard at the ping-pong table. I am 25 years old. Trent is 23, wearing only his basketball shorts, smiling mischievously as he calls out the score. I interrupt and say, "Wait, I'm winning aren't I?" Trent responds by laughing obnoxiously and begins to taunt, mock, and talk trash as I begin to fume. I hate losing. I end up throwing the ping-pong paddle at Trent's face and storming inside. Next scene. Again we are in the backyard, this time with a basketball. I am determined to defeat him in one-on-one. I fake right and step left, past his leg and he shoves me hard- straight to the cement ground. Hands bloodied and stinging, I look at him with fury and yell, "I CAN'T FEEL MY HANDS!!!"

We have reenacted two of our infamous fights. The video is for the Amazing Race application. Surely CBS would eat it up. Competitive brother and sister who know how to laugh and how to push each others' buttons and go for each others' throats under pressure. Isn't that the essence of reality television? We've never actually made the video. I've always been a bit hesitant to allow the world to see me lose my cool with Trent and the timing has never been right. It still isn't. However, the timing is perfect for both of us to backpack through Europe this summer.

Heidi is married, busy chasing our little busy-bee Vander, and isn't exactly the "back-packing" type. Travis is finishing up school and about to tie the knot with our dear Emma. So the single Hardeman siblings, blessed with few responsibilities and obligations, will be strapping on the backpacks and trekking through Europe on an unforgettable adventure. (I used to think singleness was a curse. When will it be my turn God??? I've often asked. But in recent years He has revealed that just as marriage is a gift, so too, being single is a gift. Not only could I up and move to Africa, now I get to embark on an incredible journey with my brother. Sometimes I am overwhelmed by how blessed I am.)

Neither Trent nor I have been to Europe before (unless you count my whirlwind tour of London on my layover) so we are flying into the "unknown" which makes this adventure even more exciting. However, it also makes us both completely naive: how exactly does one backpack through Europe? We've begun researching which is quite a fun process but we would love to hear any and all tips you have if you've been to Europe. Our only definite plans are to meet in Germany on June 8 and leave from London on July 8. Trent will already be in Latvia visiting his roommate from Biola and I will drop my suitcases off in London and we will meet in either Frankfurt or Munich and begin the journey. We plan on using the Eurorail to see Germany, Austria, Switzerland, Czech Republic, Italy, and France and spend the remaining days in England. Our skeletal plans will involve lots of improvising and "flying by the seat of our tails" (is that the right expression? Odd.) but we will decide on cities and places to put on our itinerary. This is where you come in. Recommendations??? I know I teach history and probably should know tons of cool historical sites to see but I admittedly don't know a ton about places to see in Europe. We are traveling on a tight budget (don't worry supporters- I saved money from teaching at Rowland and won't be traveling on your dime) so if you happen to know anyone in any of the mentioned countries who could provide beds and a toilet for Trent and I, that would be awesome.

As long as there is no competition involved on the trip, I don't anticipate any fights or hurled objects. Traveling through Europe is something I have wanted to do for quite some time and I am so excited to be able to share this adventure with my brother. Trent and I have a lot in common, including a love for awkward moments and ugly faces- I'm sure we'll have hilarious stories and disgusting pictures to share when we get home. The pictures by the way are from two different photo shoots in which Trent and I explored new ways to contort our faces and look as mortifying as possible.

"Sweet or Sour" or "My February 12th" or "Orange Cat Attitude"

2008-02-12T20:56:00.000-08:00

I used to have a giant poster hanging in my bedroom of a fat, scowling, orange cat and the words, "attitude is everything." I loved that poster. I really thought it was cool and that I was cool. Why didn't anyone tell me? I had a weird flashback the other day and I envisioned that silly poster as I pondered my attitude- it really does have a gianormous affect on my perspective. The first few weeks I was back in Maputo, I did not have the best attitude. Actually, it was a downright "bad attitude" because I was longing to be home so badly. I especially noticed this sour attitude of mine as I walked home. Suddenly I was disgusted by the filth, constantly coughing as I tried to breath the polluted air, annoyed by the boys saying, "Hello my sista," annoyed by all the stares and people trying to sell me things, realized for the first time that my walk is all slightly up-hill, and I didn't feel love for the Mozambicans as I passed them. It sucked. Once God finally threw water on my face and made me wake up, I realized the consequences of my "orange, cat attitude"- I was missing out on the abundant life He has promised me because I was choosing to wallow in my pity parties and negativity. I know there is a time for everything and certainly a time to mourn and be sad, but I took it too far and was just plain grumpy. I have begun a morning prayer as I wait for my ride that God would work on my attitude that day- that He would alert me to my tendencies to be negative and snap me out of it. I believe my God will answer the "big prayers" concerning Maputo but He also answers the "small prayers" concerning my attitude.

Today was such a wonderful day- start to finish- and I know it is because God had totally answered my prayer and let me see the world from a heavenly perspective and worked on my attitude. (Please don't think that I'm some moody, tudy, fresh and fruity girl. I don't think I have major attitude problems but I know I can be negative when He wouldn't want me to be.) Nothing spectacular happened on this terrific Tuesday, no major voting took place, but God intervened and gave me a good attitude which enabled me to thoroughly enjoy every hour of my day. I found myself smiling and chuckling to myself throughout the day and knew that every day could be like this if I have the right attitude. The following is my schedule from Tuesday, February 12, which is what a typical Tuesday is like.

6:00- Alarm went off. Hit snooze 8 times.

6:40- Kicked the mosquito net out of my way and and rolled out of bed.

7:00- Caught my ride to school with three of my students. Rolled the window down to let the mosquitoes out but mainly because I like a breeze in the morning and enjoy pretending to be a dog riding in a car with my head out the window.

7:15- Prayed for the school and for 4 students with other teachers. Love this tradition and would love to start it with fellow Christians at Rowland.

7:30- Hung out in the computer lab and wrote the test I would be administering a few hours later. I confess that I am a total hypocrite when it comes to procrastination. I thought it would pass after college but it's only gotten worse.

8:15- Taught my 9th/10th English class. Today I finally realized that I am actually enjoying teaching grammar! This in itself is a small miracle because I was dreading it so much but I am a student-at-heart and love learning new things so I really am enjoying learning how to diagram sentences and recognize predicate nomatives, appositives, verbals, gerands, etc. There was a moment when I was explaining how to recognize an indirect and direct object when Peter, who has flunked every grammar test, exclaimed, "I think I actually understand this!" Ahhh- this is why I love teaching- getting to watch the moment when the light bulb turns on, such precious moments.

9:15- Taught my 9th/10th Economics class. Yet another subject that I dreaded like getting Malaria but it hasn't been too painful. However, a parent asked me what we learned about in econ that day and I said, "Ummm...chapter 3." Real comforting I'm sure- since when are parents allowed to quiz the teachers?? I was not prepared:)

10:00- Had "break" aka- "snack" as I always called it. Was starving for lunch already and ate stale cookies. Looked at the clock and realized it was midnight at home which meant Lesley Miller just turned 26! Thanked the Lord for amazing friends like Lesley and chuckled to myself picturing Lesley speaking in her man voice, playing "lava-monster," doing awkward/awesome dance moves, clapping at weddings, and singing "Crucified" quite sacreligiously. Love you Lesley! (fyi- for a few months our junior year we decided to take all pictures with the double thumbs up- can't remember why. )

10:15- Taught my 11th/12th US History class. We're learning about the Depression and my three boys have started to get "TC" for school but were all super interested in the Depression. (TC means "too cool") They asked tons of very inquisitive questions about what happened to the banks and stock market and laughed way too hard when I made them pull out their pockets and explained that empty pockets were called, "Hoover Flags." I didn't intend for this to be funny so I was pleasantly surprised that they were so entertained by random historical trivia. We've also been watching clips from Cinderella Man and they/I am loving it! Ok, that was a small lie but I'll fess up- we're not watching "clips." We watched the whole thing and I tried to do it somewhat secretively because the school is so conservative I wasn't sure if they would allow boxing scenes and I think they frown on showing whole movies but it's such a great one and it stimulated even more questions about the Depression. Of course, the movie made me cry as it always does which created an awkward moment when Neel asked me something about the movie right as I was crying and I tried to answer but was clearly choked up.

11:00- Relaxed during my prep period. Couldn't fight the hunger any longer and did my daily "BP run" to grab juice and my favorite chocolate. (I was ridiculed the other day when I said BP is my favorite spot for lunch. Who doesn't enjoy lunch an elegant meal at the gas station?) I also stopped by the "fresh popcorn" stand where a man on the corner sells hot bags of kettle corn for about 10 cents. If teaching doesn't work out, I may need to open one of these on a corner in Brea.

11:45- Taught 7th/8th World History. This was a simple day since they took the test on the Reformation and Thirty Years' War but we reviewed a bit beforehand and the kids were actually prepared for the test! Another simple joy of teaching. Mauricio is learning English this year and couldn't hold a conversation at the beginning of the year, yet he was able to write a half-page explaining what Martin Luther believed. It is so fun to watch kids progress! I have thoroughly enjoyed teaching this unit since I know the bare minimum about the Reformation and have decided Martin Luther is my new hero. I considered naming my son "Martin" but then I immediately think of that obnoxious show called "Martin" and realize that option is out. If that just sounded like a birth announcement, I apologize, but yes, I think about my future children and their possible names. (I'm obviously hurting for visuals on this entry that I have resorted to taking a picture of Mauricio's test)

12:30- Left on the bus with the 5th/6th graders to go to the pool. Before leaving, the icecream man walked by the school and I made one of the kids sneak and buy me an popsicle. I'm not 100% sure this is against school rules but it wouldn't surprise me, hence the "sneaking." The kids cracked up when Mocha, our guard dog, jumped on the bus- I don't blame her for wanting to cool off- it was pretty warm today. Rode through town on the bus in my normal "dog out the window" posture, enjoying the sites and sounds of Maputo in the afternoon. This class loves playing "sweet and sour" on these bus rides and smile at the people on the streets to see if they will be sweet or sour. Thumbs up and/or a smile makes them sweet but every other response is "sour." I am thoroughly entertained by these kids.

12:50- Arrived at the Oasis pool to teach the 5th/6th class and then the 3rd/4th class. Today I taught many of them how to dive for the first time. I have never seen so many belly flops in my life! Of course I had to laugh after every one and I got some weird looks from the other people at the pool but come on, belly flopping is funny. My great words of wisdom as they prepared to jump in head-first: "Pretend God has a string tied to your butt and He pulls it up every time you jump." Verita was especially excited to learn to dive and when she finally got it down, her look of pride and sheer joy was enough to make me tear up. I of course had flashbacks to when my dad taught us all how to dive. I have a vivid memory of Heidi standing on the diving board and with my dad holding a giant pole out in front of her, forcing her to jump over it and she was nearly in tears.

We also learned how to flip under the water and push off the wall. I was quite fearful that when I tried to demonstrate I would be unable to do this but it turned out alright. Stephen is an awesome swimmer and he quickly perfected the flip. He told me, "I've always wanted to learn how to do that!" and I was reminded again why I love teaching. We played our usual rendition of freeze tag and then sang and made silly faces on the bus ride home.
2:30- Arrived back at school and hung out in computer lab, checking e-mails and finishing lesson plans. My only Mozambican friend also uses this time right after school to use the internet and we've had some great conversations. We had an awesome talk about God's mercy verses His justice and who would be in heaven. We then talked about his struggles of being an African man who is single- and I thought I had pressure to get married!

3:30- Tried to leave campus but some kids convinced me to play a 2 on 2 basketball game with them. So for my second time here, I hiked up my skirt and played and it was so much fun. Of course I got competitive and "talked sternly" to my teammate about getting to the right spot on defense. Yes, Andrew and I won. Domingos and Orlando were the competition- they are in the center in the picture. Domingos is the one who looks like he's ready to kill someone. He usually has that expression but he and I get along great although he will sometimes ask me to flex during class which is not cool. 4:30- Walked home. With my new, improved attitude, I didn't notice the incline, the trash, or the dirty air. I also wasn't annoyed by the "hey sista" and "hola mi amiga" comments and gave them sas by answering back, mimicing their tone of voice. I played my own version of "sweet or sour" and passed mostly "sweet" people. A man tried to sell me a painting of a lion which did not even look like an animal but he mistook my friendly laugh and, "Nao obrigada" to mean "I might buy your ugly painting if you follow me and repeat 'cheap price' thirty-three times." I didn't want to have to use my stern voice which scares away venders so I switched to my passive-aggresive tactics and watched on the edge of the sidewalk. Then I ran across the main highway in front of a bunch of speeding cars so he couldn't follow. I know they say being passive aggressive is wrong but sometimes it so much easier and much more entertaining. (yes, my stern voice is quite frightening and I can assure you that most of you have never heard it and hopefully never will)

5:oo Stopped by my favorite bakery for bread (duh) and avoided awkward come-ons from the baker, Ernesto, then stopped by the fruit/vegetable stand on the corner for mangos and potatos. (cock roach free this time!) The woman selling was having a very animated conversation in Shanghan (local language) but it sounded like she was saying, "Ooga, booga, boooga!" which of course made me giggle.

5:10 Collapsed in my hammock and read and watched a huge storm roll in. The thunder was out-of-control crazy and it suddenly was pouring with flashes of lightening but I remained totally warm laying in my hammock. Poor Gizmo was a terrified by the thunder sounding like God's stomach growling and he hid underneath the hammock.

6:00 Made my weekly baked potato and frozen vegetables. Confession: it took me three times to finally figure out how to defrost frozen vegetables and I ended up cheating and calling for help. Apparently it is such an obvious task that they don't write directions for defrosting in a microwave but I DESTROYED two helpings of frozen pees without any directions. Common sense and cooking are two things that do not go hand in hand for me.

7:00 Talked to my family via skype. My mom just had her gall bladder removed and now she is doing wonderfully!!! I guess we don't need it all that much anyways which I'm glad to hear since I will probably have to have mine removed one day. I love when I get a good connection and am able to get updates on home.

8:00 Power went out because of storm so I borrowed an oil lamp from my neighbor, Henrik, and really felt like Laura Ingles. I lit the house up with candles which was so easy feat for me since I struggling lighting matches- I always end up burning my finger before I get the wick to catch. I worked on my computer until the battery died and then the power came back on just as I was getting ready for bed.

In a perfect world my devotions today would be about attitude, but living in Mozambique, I am daily reminded that we most certainly do NOT live in a perfect world. However, I was reading an exerpt from writings from Ignatius Loyola (founder of the Jesuits) since we just learned about him in class and found his words so insightful that I must share them for my "Danny Tanner moment." Loyola wrote about 3 reasons we are in "desolation" and don't feel God's presence. It was amazing to me that this man who lived in the 16th century and was a devout Catholic in the Counter-Reformation, would write words that I could relate with so much.

"There are three reasons why we are in desolation. The first is because we have been tepids, slothful, or negligent in our Spiritual Exercises, and so through our own fault spiritual consolation is withdrawn from us. (Indeed the days when I am not spending time in prayer and reading God's word, I obviously don't feel His closeness.)

The second is that God may try to test our worth, and the progress that we have made in his service and praise when we are without such generous rewards of consolation and special graces. (I went through this in college when God withdrew His presence for seemingly no reason but it is only through that experience that I truly began to understand faith and choosing to serve God even when I don't feel or see Him merely because He is worthy and not because it makes me feel good.)

The third is that he may wish to give us a true knowledge and understanding so that we may truly perceive that it is not within our power to acquire or retain great devotion, ardent love, tears, or any other spiritual consolation, but that all of this is a gift and a grace of God our Lord. Nor does God wish us to claim as our own what belongs to another, allowing our intellect to rise up in a spirit of pride or vainglory, attributing to ourselves the devotion or other aspects of spiritual consolation. (I've experienced this in more recent years and even here on the mission field when God has withdrawn and I learned that it was not by my strength and my works or my discipline that I was close to God. Yes, I am supposed to draw near to God but I also must realize that His drawing near to me is a gift and it is done by His works- I can't manipulate Him and I can't feel proud of "my accomplishment" when I do feel His presence.)

My February 12th, 2008 was a day when I was blessed with God's sweet and amazing gift of His presence. He also answered my prayer and adjusted my attitude and I realized that I can be a grumpy jerk with an "orange cat attitude" without Him.