David Letterman

Top 10 Signs that I've Adjusted to Life in Maputo

10. I've mastered the art of the mosquito net. Gizmo has broken the bamboo that holds the net so it is a sad little net but I've figured out how to tuck it into my bed to keep those malaria-carrying beasts away from me. Not one bite yet! If you believe in jinxes as strongly as my brothers' do, you'll be expecting me to get bitten tonight but I am convinced my blood must be bitter or perhaps it's because of # 9.

9. My b.o. is beginning to smell like the locals. Seriously. I thought b.o. was this universal thing and it would always smell the same, but oh no, Mozambicans have a special scent that I have grown so fond of that I seem to have picked up the scent myself. I forgot deodorant one day and after a run realized that the stench I was smelling was myself and I smelled like a local!

8. I can order food in Portuguese. Of course this was the first thing I learned to say in Portuguese since 1- I eat all the time and 2- It's really easy. "Eu quero....por favor." I lied, the first thing I learned to say was Obrigada (thank you) because on average I say, "nao obrigada" 47 times a day. Nao obrigada, I don't want your sandals, paintings, sunglasses, wooden sculptures, movies, nuts (pass it on), jewelry, plants, tomatoes, cell phones, power cords, skirts, or my favorite offer- white bunnies. People walk around the city selling these items and I must have a giant sign on my forehead that says, "I want to buy whatever you have!" I say, "nao obrigada" so quickly that I wonder if anyone has just asked me the time and I said, "No thank you."

7. I don't notice the trash as much anymore. This was one of the first things that you can't help but notice when you drive into the city of Maputo- there is trash EVERYWHERE. Random piles of garbage burning all over the place. It lines the streets and gutters and is pretty much every where you turn. There are giant mounds of trash in certain areas and you'll often see women searching through them. I'm not oblivious to the trash because since it is everywhere, of course I see it as I walk around it, but it no longer strikes me as odd.

6. I'm no longer terrified when we get pulled over by the police at night. It has happened every single time we've gone out after dark because they are, "looking for bandits" aka bribes. The first time it happened I freaked out a little. (only in my head, on the exterior I was, "cool and collected Katie." man I love alliteration) I'm afraid of police in the States too- whenever I see one I feel so guilty and get paranoid. My paranoia is totally justified here though. Talking to some other "locals" they said they would rather be stopped by bandits and car jacked than stopped by the police because at least they can get insurance if the car is stolen. If you get the wrong police man on the other hand, you might have issues and end up in jail. Madalena however is a feisty one and holds her own with these bride-taking policemen. The first night the guy asked for 500 Metacais(20 bucks) because "the light above the license plate is out." Hmmmm..funny how you pulled us over while standing in the street in front of us and never saw the license in the back. Mada got out of the car and pointed out that we did indeed have a light and she would under no circumstances pay the money. The man replied, "Come on, it's only 500." She joked with the guy and he realized he couldn't mess with this tiny, Brazilian woman and let us go.

5. I can understand some Portuguese! I can't say much back but at least I'm not as clueless. I attribute this to my lessons with Norma, my Mozambican tutor, and watching TV with Portuguese subtitles. The other day I understood what the plumber said to me in Portuguese! This sweet old man knows no English and since I was the only one home, explained to me in Portuguese what was going on with our sink and I understood his main points! Of course I didn't get everything but I was nodding my head so much and saying, "Ooh, OK" that I fooled him into believing I was fluent already. When he said he'd be back at catorce (14) I blew my cover because I still am not adjusted to army time and had to count on my fingers to figure out that 14 is 2 pm. That wasn't a language problem though, just showing my poor mental math abilities. I also understood the directions in Portuguese on how to make the jello. I know what you're thinking- "who doesn't know how to make jello? Add hot water, then cold water and refrigerate." For an Amalia Badelia in the kitchen however, this was a big accomplishment for me. Does no one else crave jello? I ate the entire pan in one sitting. That Cosby fella was onto something genius.

4. I can communicate with Teresa, our empragada. Being a guard or empragada seems to be a very popular job here. An empragada cleans the home and can also cook and take care of kids if necessary. (No, Teresa is not in charge of taking care of me although I do act like a child at times) Teresa went through the whole house with me the first week telling me how to say objects in Portuguese and now I can hold a semi-conversation with her. Granted I can really only hold one conversation with all people that consists of, "Hi, how are you?..See you tomorrow" and this may not even be deemed a whole conversation, but it's better than nothing. I am very grateful for her although I am kinda awkward about someone else other than my mom washing my undies:) Too much info?

3. I am no longer surprised by the poverty. I am still saddened by it and definitely not numb to it, but it is not such a shock to see any more since I'm surrounded by it every day. There are many many men, women and children missing a leg because of the land mines planted during the war which ended in the nineties. There is also such rampant disease which has left many Mozambicans handi-capped. These people sit or stand on the dividers in the middle of the roads and walk to your window at red lights asking for money. In Santa Barbara there were many homeless people on street corners, but this is an entirely new degree of suffering and poverty. Even 5 year old Rafael complained to his mom the other day that he wanted to go back to the States. She asked why and he said, "There's too many poor people here." We talked at the last bible study about how James instructed Christians not to show favoritism to the rich or powerful. And if we do show favoritism and value the lives of the rich in the eyes of this world, we are sinning and are as guilty as murderers of breaking the law. I was convicted thinking about how although I feel terrible for these people, I also lump them together in my mind as the, "suffering" and seem to place less value on their individual lives if I don't them. Yes there are many suffering people here, but God loves each and every one of them. I love how in James 2:5 it says, "...Has not God chosen those who are poor in the eyes of the world to be rich in faith and to inherit the kingdom he promised those who love him?" They are poor in our eyes because they have little money, but true riches has nothing to do with money.

2. I can j-walk without peeing my pants! I didn't actually pee my pants while crossing in the past, but it did used to freak me out. (how many of you are now thinking about the time Jenny made me pee my pants in the library?) Crosswalks aren't used here and lights mean nothing. To see if cars are coming you have to stand dangerously close to the oncoming cars. This is especially dangerous for me since I've always had this demented desire to put my foot under the tire of moving cars to see how badly it will hurt. Today I walked to CAM, my school, which is about a 40 minute walk and j-walked across about 30 major streets and each one felt like a small victory.

1. And the # 1 sign that I've adjusted to life in Maputo- drum roll please....someone asked ME for directions! I've been working on my "confident strut." You know, the walk that sends the message, "Don't mess with me. I'm on a mission. I own this town." Well some silly Portuguese tourists fell for my trick and stopped me on my way to the park to ask directions. Of course I had no idea where their hotel was or any of the streets they mentioned but that is besides the point- they thought I was a local!

Now for a mystery video clip. All I will say is that this is how I often spend my free time:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rlKKM67hEiM

Down By the Banks

Who knew that all those years ago when I learned the game, "down by the banks" do I need to continue? "of the hankie pankie..." you get the picture...Well who knew that this game would come in so handy? I have a visual of my friends and I sitting in a large circle at Brea Junior High playing this game. (That's right junior high...others were talking about boys and make-up but my group played down by the banks. I also wore over-sized flannels and t-shirts that said, "Messiah." I was very hip.) This game has proven to be an instant "friend-maker" in other countries.

We returned to the church in Shiparango, (aka "the bush") on Sunday and I finally got to hang out with the kids for a decent amount of time. Yes, this was another 9 to 2 service and I loved it! (why is it that I am wide awake during these services but used to fall asleep in an hour-long chapel? ) We went with a Mozambican church choir and a small group from Portugal. The village kids seemed a bit intimidated by the newcomers and therefore clung to me because I was a familiar face. The service was a long one because the visiting choir sang a ton of songs and then the Portuguese group sang a song (and yes, it did cross my mind that all the visitors seemed to be performing so I said a prayer that I would not be forced to sing a solo song. I don't know which would be worse- having to sing in front of everyone or dance... Equally hellish situations in my opinion but luckily I was not asked to sing) The local villagers also got up and sang and it's amazing how quickly I've grown attached to this group and felt so proud of them. If you click on the following link, you can watch a video and hear them singing and see the kids I was sitting with who I'll introduce you to in a bit. Oh and for you Where's Waldo fans, find Ace Ventura in the picture above.


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2n8u8lQm0C0


After the service, the adults formed a big circle and were singing and doing something similar to line-dancing with rhythm. I stayed with the kids on the outer circle trying to do the moves along with the adults and wondering if it was my size 11 feet or Dutch roots which prevented me from moving like the others'. Seeing a "Kodak moment, " I went to the car to retrieve my camera but along the way, transformed into the Pied Piper. (or is it Pie Piper? I never really understood his name) While walking to the car with my pack, I finally learned every one's names. Being unable to communicate much to these kids, I milked this as long as possible because they loved hearing me pronounce their names. I didn't realize "Katie" would be such a tough name. Hearing them trying to pronounce it was adorable and I felt like one of my Chinese students on the first day of class when I would try to pronounce their names which sounded so foreign to me. The kids looked at me like, "Katie is your name? That's bizarre" and I wanted to explain, "actually in the states in the 80's just about every fourth girl was named Katie." (mom and dad I'm not complaining, I like my name but you get the point)
So after we reached the car I busted out the famous "Down by the banks" game again. Since the kids speak Shangana, I didn't even attempt my Portuguese and explained in English while acting everything out. The kids would talk back to me in Shangana and I would respond in English. We were not having a miraculous conversation where we understood each others' language- we just just wanted to talk while we acted things out. Best game of charades ever. (except maybe when I played with Katie and Cameron for an hour by ourselves) They loved the game but you can only play so much of this game (especially since I was the only one singing) and so we switched to playing with the camera. Here is my attempt at a "timer shot." I'm awful at trying to do this in the States so I don't know why I thought I could this in the middle of the bush with just jagged rocks to use to hold the camera. Please note how it looks like I have a floating head.
The women saw us playing with the camera and wanted to see how it worked as well. Gita is the woman standing right behind Christina in the picture below. (I realize you don't know who Christina is but you'll meet her later- not literally silly) Gita always tries to talk to me in Portuguese because I tricked her into believing I understood what she said one week. Big mistake. Well by this week, she realized I had no clue what she was saying but still tries to include me with the other women and insisted I sit and eat with them. While I was playing with the kids, the women congregated around a central hut where they cooked lunch and laughed together. After we tired of playing with the camera, of course I had to bring out the ugly faces. Although they didn't quite catch on to how to do cross-eyes, they came up with some great silly faces and poses. Here I'm showing them an example of an ugly face. The woman in the background is from the Portugal group. Martina is my favorite in this shot. Who knew the "ballerina" pose was a favorite in Mozambique? It reminds me of this hilarious picture of Dan, my brother-in-law, jumping into Biola's pool in his b-ball uniform because he is doing the same ballerina pose. I also love Christina's sassy "hand-on-the-hip" pose. Here they are attempting to cross their eyes as I showed them to follow their finger as they bring it closer to their nose. Yeah, this needs some work.

Well I promised you I'd learn some names so you could pray specifically for these amazing children and so here they are in no particular order:

MARTINA: She is the girl I mentioned in the last entry whose dress was torn and is not cared after very well. When we showed up this time, she was the first to greet us and had the tiniest baby I've ever seen strapped to her back. He was way smaller than Vander on Van's first day of life but then again, Van is giant compared to most babies. She was wearing a red shirt with fringe sleeves and a filthy jean skirt. Martina seems to be in the stage where she wants to be a "woman" and not a girl because when she sits, she is constantly mimicking the older women and trying to cover her legs completely like the women do. (I just picked up on this fact and I realized I may have been offending people or looking like a slut as I bear my calves) Martina is remarkably resilient. I still don't know her family story but it is obvious that she is not treated equally. I made room for her to come sit by me on the straw mat during the service but her filthy legs rubbed against one of the older woman's skirt, smudging it with dirt and the woman scolded her and made her move to sit on a rock. I was so angered by this gesture and felt very defensive for Martina. Later, when we were playing down by the banks, it took her longer than all the others to figure out when to slap the hand of her neighbor and the boys kept yelling at her and trying to push her out of the circle since she was slowing down the game. I realize that this is just kids being kids, but I grew defensive again and put her next to me. She caught on and when she won the game two times in a row, I don't think I've ever felt so happy about a victory. She threw her hands up and cheered when she won and I felt like putting her on my shoulders and parading her around the village. (Meredith once tried to do this to me after we won a game which was hilarious because Mere is about half my size) So when you're wondering how to pray for Africa, pray for Martina.

Andre: (aka Mr. Joyful) Andre had been a bit tentative around me in the past, but on Sunday, he let loose and showed me his crazy, wild personality. A typical ham, this boy was quite the joker. I love watching him during the service because he pays such close attention. Like Martina, he seems to want to be with the adults rather than the children during the service and chose to sit with the men rather than us. But after the service, it became quite clear that he loves being young and carefree and was the ringleader along with Bernardo. I worried about playing "down by the banks" because he is missing his hand, but that didn't slow him down one bit. I, on the other hand, felt a bit awkward about hitting his nub, but he didn't show any signs of awkwardness. Everywhere Andre goes, he is skipping or jumping, never walking. He is so quick to laugh and I was dying inside when after we finished playing down by the banks, he was trying to sing the song. Wanting so badly to keep singing the song, Andre would try to make up words that sounded like English to him. His version of "down by the banks" sounded like, "szhang szha szha szhu..." Full of life, Andre most certainly has the "joy of the Lord." He was definitely the best at making silly faces. This boy has an amazing passion and zeal for life.

Lorenzo: In the picture above I love how intense Lorenzo looks (he's the one to the right of Andre) I motioned for a "silly face" and he must have interpreted my motions as, "look pissed off at the world." It's funny because he actually is super sweet but has these really intense faces in pictures. He is the boy who has a very bloated stomach. This week he was in charge of one of the babies and had him permanently strapped to his back. Ever attentive to the babies needs, Lorenzo was constantly wiping his nose and bouncing him if he cried. He had color paint on his arms that looked temporary tattoos which he was quite proud to show me. At one point in the service a giant pig was digging through a pile of stuff outside one of the huts and Lorenzo bounded up and chased the pig off into the distance. Last week he was the one bathing his sister (if you are observant and have a good memory, you'll notice that I actually said he was bathing his brother last week. My mistake. No I don't need a course in human anatomy. They were far away and she was sitting down OK.) Lorenzo has a natural instinct to watch over others. He is quieter than Andre and Bernardo but has such a sweet, gentle spirit. I'm not quite sure what he is doing in the picture below. Perhaps he's just as awkward as I am in pictures and wasn't sure what to do with his hands so he resolved to put them on Martina and Bernardo. I think I'll try this tactic in the next group picture.

Bernardo: A gifted leader, this boy also was in charge of watching after a little one during the service. He didn't seem to mind one bit when Vladimir (the baby) peed all over him- he just went to the bathroom/straw hut to clean up and came back smiling. This is the boy I predicted will become a pastor one day. No, I'm not prophesying, just guessing:) He is clearly looked up to by the other children and given many responsibilities. When the adults were dancing in a circle, Bernardo was the most excited as we tried to dance along. I love how he pronounces his name. When he introduced himself he proudly said, "Berrrrnarrrdo" Luckily I can roll my "R's" and was able to mimic the way he said his name. I love his choice for a pose as well. I need to take a lesson from this kids on how to pose for pictures.

Christina: This sweet one reminds me a bit of myself as a child. She is quiet but you can see thoughts running through her head and she is bit timid around the others. She is always thrilled to see me and stays glued to my side. She sits as close as possible to me during the service and although I usually am weird about my "personal bubble," I love how close she gets. Although she says little to the others, it is clear that she enjoys joining in on the games and is constantly giggling.

I love how there is a common thread in all children around the world. Whether raised in the suburbs in America, or the bush in Mozambique, kids are dearly loved by God and have an amazing innocence and vulnerability. Some are joyful hams like Andre, natural leaders like Bernardo, bashful and compassionate like Lorenzo, tough and resilient like Martina, and sweet and socially awkward like Christina. Though they are all so different, they all posses such a sweetness and make me think about how Jesus said, "Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these. I tell you the truth, anyone who will not receive the kingdom of God like a little child will never enter it." (Mark 10:14-15)

Receive the kingdom of God like a little child. We are called to have a child-like faith in the sense that we trust and cling to God like a child does. With a child-like faith, we are humble, vulnerable and completely dependent on God. Not ignorant, but completely trusting in and relying on God. When I think of children, I think of purity. They have not yet been corrupted and jaded by the world. At our bible study we spent a hefty amount of time discussing James 1:27 "Religion that God our Father accepts as pure and faultless is this: to look after orphans and widows in their distress and to keep oneself from being polluted by the world."

We talked about how there are 2 parts to this verse. On the outside, our acts should be pleasing to God (hence the looking after the hurting) but we also must work on the inside. When I think of children, I see beautiful people who have not yet been "polluted by the world" and I desire to be like that. To live in the world but to refrain from being polluted by it. Easier said than done.

I'll end with a neat passage from "Experiencing God," which talks about purity and our intimacy with God.

Clean Hands; a Pure Heart

Who may ascend into the hill of the Lord? Or who may stand in HIs hold place? He who has clean hands and a pure heart. Pslam 24:3-4

"God has rigid requirements for those who want to enjoy intimate fellowship with Him. There is no easy access to God for those with unclean hands or an impure heart. It is an affront to holy God to assume that we can indulge in our sin and blatantly disobey His word, then brazenly enter the holy of holies. In Old Testament times, one's hands represented one's activities. Clean hands symbolized pure activities. Priests washed their hands before serving in the temple to symbolize that only those who were cleansed could worship holy God.

There are levels of intimacy with God. The moment you become a Christian you begin a relationship with the Lord. However, if you persist in your sin, sin will separate you from God and keep you from enjoying close fellowship with Him. If you follow only God's basic commandments but resist every time God gives you specific, personal directions, you will never fully experience the depths of God's Person. If, however, you are like the psalmist and understand the holiness of God, you will adjust your life to His standards and respond to His prompting so that you may have deeper fellowship with HIm.

The closer you get to holy God, the more obvious even your smallest sins become. The more you know of God's character, the more you will realize the need to wash your hands and purify your heart before you can get close to Him.

Are you willing for Almighty God to make you absolutely pure before Him so that you can enjoy the maximum possible relationship with Him?

Choose joy

If you've seen me on the basketball court, you've seen a scary side of Katie. On the court there was somewhat of a "Dr. Jekyll" and "Mr. Hide" transformation and I scared even myself on occasion. (see picture) Frustrated so often with myself and my mistakes, I would take my anger out on the opponent (hence the reason I fouled out of almost every game) and sadly, my own teammates. I once a bit a teammates head off after she slapped me on the butt (for the record, I hate when people do that but I realize it's no reason to scream at them) Seeing how I would lose perspective during games and get down on myself, my friend Meredith and I decided to help each other. She didn't have the anger issues like myself but she would lose sight of what is important during games as well. We talked about how even if we were having a bad game, we could still choose to be joyful and decided we needed accountability. So whenever Mere noticed me grinding my teeth and losing perspective, she would run, or rather bounce by (if you've seen her play, you know what I mean) and would simply say, "choose joy" and I would do the same for her. This was pretty brave on her part seeing as I yelled at a teammate for hitting my butt. Those 2 words made a huge different in my game. Choose joy. Happiness seems to be dependent upon circumstance, but joy, that is a gift from God but also a choice. I'm sure you're wondering by now why I'm reminiscing about my "glory days" instead of telling you about Africa. Well since I've been here, I've been constantly reminded and convicted about what true joy looks like and how I too often choose NOT to be joyful. I'll elaborate later. (for the record, the picture was a joke. I never wore head bands and I don't know how I held that facial expression for so long- but this was the only picture I had on a digital camera. Sorry Katie, you must hate me by now but at least you don't look like a junior higher like I do.)


I fear that my motives for wanting to go to the rural church are quite selfish. I love to go because the joy I witness in this amazing village is contagious and I want it. We drove out to Shiparango again and when we arrived, the first people we saw were 2 of the boys who came to the service the previous time. The boy with the incredibly bloated belly was wearing a giant, dirt-stained, over-sized button down shirt to hide his belly and was giving his younger brother a " bath." A bath means the poor boy was stark naked, sitting on a log while his older brother gently scrubbed his body with a wet rag. What I didn't mention was that it was freezing on Sunday morning. I didn't think to pack my scarves and mittens for Africa but it is colder in the bush and is still the middle of winter. It was especially cold on this particular morning and the young lad getting the bath was shaking and in tears as his older brother tried to quickly finish. I was fully clothed (one would hope) and still was shivering so it was difficult to watch this naked boy suffer while his brother washed him with cold water. Tears still on his cheeks, the now freshly-scrubbed boy was the first to arrive under the tree for the service in shorts, a t-shirt, a piece of cloth wrapped around his shoulders and no shoes. His dried tears and shivering broke my heart so I did what my mom would do to warm me up and went behind him and quickly rubbed his arms. This made him laugh hysterically, (still not totally sure why- I wasn't trying to be funny) and he stopped shivering and finally smiled.

Some of the village men started showing up and Madalena suggested building a fire since it was so cold. I pretended like I was on "Survivor" and collected sticks with the men. Let me just say that these guys would kick butt on Survivor. They built the fire faster than I could say, "Outwit, outplay, outlast" and with only one tiny match. I didn't know bonfires were possible without lighter fluid:) Then again, I didn't make it too far in girl scouts. We soon had a nice size flame that became the focal point of the "church" as the congregation huddled around the fire to stay warm during the service. One thing that I discovered is universal: everyone hates when the wind shifts and smoke blows in your eyes.

With the fire going, soon the kids started to join and sing to alert other village members that church was starting. The kids huddled around the fire as we sang and Madalena led us in an amazing rendition of "Father Abraham" to try to get everyone moving and warmer. Her message was about how Jesus is the bread of life and we had brought 10 loaves of fresh bread to help illustrate the message. She broke out the bread and it was torn and passed throughout the circle so everyone got their share. I couldn't help but think of taking communion at home and how I always look for the biggest piece of saltine cracker when I skip breakfast:) We weren't taking communion though, simply enjoying literal bread together as Mada explained how Jesus is needed as badly as bread. (I'm assuming here since I don't speak Portuguese. However, I almost fooled the woman I was sitting next to that I do speak Portuguese and she asked me a question so I cocked my head as if I was pondering her question and then replied, "Si," hoping she had asked a yes or no question. When she asked another question and I said, "Nao," she looked at me like I was an alien and my cover was blown.) You'll notice in the picture that it was a smaller group this Sunday, I'm guessing because of the cold. Also notice how though we don't have chairs, the men and women sit apart from each other.

Perhaps you remember the boy I mentioned in a previous entry that is missing his right hand. I was thrilled to see him walking with a pep in his step to the tree, holding a baby with his right arm while toting a plastic, blue chair with his left hand. He was clad in the same outfit from the last time I saw him- a blue shirt with stripes, filthy jeans a bright smile and eyes that radiate joy. He again was on "baby patrol," constantly whiping noses of the little ones while his own snot dried to his face. I don't know if I've ever seen Jesus as clearly as I do when I watch this boy. Look for him in the video. He's the one in the center of the half circle, clapping wildly and seeing his little heart out. We sang one song requiring a jump and throwing your hands in the air at the end and you could see the anticipation building in his mind as we came close to the end and his smile grew wider and wider. When we reached that part of the song, he leapt with crazy enthusiasm and threw his hands up, giggling and smiling all the while. I wasn't the only one with my eyes glued on him. I noticed all the men watching him too, smiling. His joy truly is contagious and noticed and appreciated by not just me. Click on the link to watch and listen to the congregation singing.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=piQpPiIdHtI

Sitting with the women this time, I was reminded of my own friends and I at church. (except for the part where they breast fed during the service- luckily none of my friends have done this. I try so hard to be mature and not get awkward but this seems to be a cultural thing I may never get used to.) Anyways, these beautiful women whispered jokes to each other and then cracked up during the service. I was the nerdy outsider who laughed too although I didn't know why we were laughing but was trying to fit in.

During the service I also often caught the eye of the boy with the belly and tried to get as many bashful grins out of him as possible. His expression seems hard as stone at first, but his darling smile lights up his whole face, removing his tough exterior to expose the vulnerable, hurting, but joyful spirit inside. This is the face that is ingrained in my memory. This is one of the faces that I hope is fresh in my mind years from now as I think about Mozambique. In the group shot, he's the one hiding behind the plastic chair.

I cracked up to myself when a cell phone rang during the service (what the heck?) and when a man got up and sat apart from the group to have a cigarette. He was still smoking when the plastic bag/offering basket was passed and I loved how one of the women held up the bag and called out to him that they were collecting offering. He played the "I can't hear you card" but she was calling so loudly that pretty soon everyone was laughing. It reminded me of the time my roommate was leaving for Spring Break and I obnoxiously yelled out the window, "Hey Jenny! You forgot your bible!"

One of my favorite times is at the end of the service when we sing and walk around to shake hands with everyone. I confess that I'm not a huge fan of the "meet and greet" time at home. Don't judge me for my anti-social tendencies, I'm just not too great at small talk. But this time is great- perhaps because since I can't say anything, no small talk is required and I do know how to shake hands. The kids all giggle when I shake their hands and I want to think of more ways to show them I care about them with physical contact. ( I did not mean to sound like child-molester there) I showed the kids the video I had taken of the song they had sung an hour before and the reaction was hilarious. There was an uproar of laughter and amazement as they watched themselves on the camera. Even better, one of the women heard the commotion and watched and then took the camera to show all the adults who all stared in wonder and then doubled-over in laughter. Yes, I need to use technology to make friends.

As Mada and I walked back to the car, the kids skipped along with us singing. Hoping to capture this precious moment (no, not those strange figurines), I tried to covertly take out my camera and video them. However, I've mentioned that I'm no CIA agent and right away they noticed the camera and posed for a picture. I swear, they are worse than cheerleaders when a camera is around! So I tried to signal to them to keep singing by moving my hand in a circular motion (yes, the universal sign for keep singing) but, as you'll see in the video clip, they thought I was teaching them a dance move and all imitated me. That is why you hear my voice cut in. (Does anyone else abhor the sound of their own voice on camera or on the phone? ) Please also take note of the girl in the purple sweater and torn dress. She is always dressed in worse rags than the others and I nearly cried when we got in the car and I saw a boy try to take something from her and tore her dress completely in half. She started bawling and I nearly lost it. I asked Mada about her and Mada said she must be a relative because she is not cared after as well as some of the other kids. If you want to pray for specific people in Africa, pray for her. I still don't know her name- hopefully I'll have more time next Sunday, but God knows who she is and knows her situation. Click on the link to watch these precious ones sing with Madalena.


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fyMmgxGVm-g


OK, so back to my original point about joy. Did you forget that I started this entry with a mention of joy? Meredith and I talked a lot about how joy is a choice but these kids embody the principle. Just today I realized that sometimes, I prefer not to choose joy. I've been irritable the past few days (yes I'll blame it on PMS but it's more than that) and have been annoyed by the silliest of things. If I told you, you would think less of me. My frustrations had been growing and though I tried to stifle them, they only grew worse. Without consciously acknowledging it, I was throwing myself a pity party- "boo hoo, this and that is annoying and I have every right to be annoyed and irritable and bratty because of it." Before I got on the computer to write an e-mail complaining to my friends that I was annoyed, I decided to go for a walk and complain to Jesus first. After journaling a solid page of whining, He reminded me of the joyful boy. That boy CHOOSES joy. He could have some pretty rockin pity parties, but he CHOOSES to be joyful. You know that joy is a choice Katie, so why are you choosing to be annoyed rather than choosing to be joyful. "I don't WANT to be annoyed God. It's not my fault that I'm annoyed. I would rather not be." But you ARE choosing to be annoyed. You would rather focus on the inconveniences around you and feel sorry for yourself, than let it go and be joyful. "Oh. Crap. You're right."

Why is it that I would CHOOSE a pity-party over joy? Why wallow in self-pity rather than swim in the "unsearchable riches of Christ?" I know I should choose to let things go and be joyful but sometimes I actually prefer to stay bitter. Why? Simple, my pride. Not wanting to admit my own shortcomings and preferring to blame situations and others instead. Point the finger anywhere but at myself. Justify my bitter thoughts by thinking I have every right to be bitter. Exaggerate my goodness and minimize my sin while exaggerating others' sins and minimizing their goodness. Refuse to choose joy because I prefer to "be right" in my bitterness. Yowsers...God gave me another very scary glimpse into my dark heart and my HUGE need for His grace today. Don't get me wrong, things are still going smoothly over here. I don't want my somewhat vague comments to lead you to believe I'm having major struggles, I'm not. But I have been letting bitter thoughts creep in and at times have been choosing self-pity rather than joy.

Now when I get annoyed or sense negative thoughts creeping in, I am going to try to picture the boy with the missing hand and remember that I do have a choice. I can choose to justify my negativity and be "right" in my bitter, irritated attitude, or I can choose to repent, ask for grace and choose joy. I was reminded of the verse in 2ND Corinthians Chapter 10, verse 5: "...we take captive every thought to make it obedient to Christ." My pity parties and negativity are not thoughts that would be pleasing to Christ and I hope to wrestle them to the ground, take them captive, and make those thoughts obedient, and choose joy over self-pity.

I wrote the previous paragraphs in this entry last night and put them into practice today. When I felt a negative thought creep in that was not obedient to Christ, I literally giggled. I giggled because I have a vivid imagination and saw myself jumping and pouncing on an unknown object and wrestling it to the ground. Visions of myself sparring in self-defense class and yelling, "Eyes! Eyes! Eyes!" came rushing back and I couldn't help but laugh. This same image of myself wrestling an inanimate object came to mind SEVERAL times today when I was faced with the choice to choose negativity or choose joy. God is so great. I have so many reasons to be joyful and He has already begun to answer my prayer that I would be reminded daily to choose joy.

I feel bad for not including many pictures in this entry. I was thinking, "what images of "joy" do I have on my computer that I could include?" Well my family brings me tons of joy and here they are in fine form. My beautiful sister.
Plus my handsome brother-in-law.
Equals an adorable nephew.
My good-looking dad.
And my gorgeous mom.Equals two very attractive twin brothers.
I include these normal shots solely because I was afraid you might think my nephew is scary looking and I wanted to show you how cute he really is.

Piles of Crab Poop

Based on the past two blog entries, you may be fooled into believing that I am really holy and all I do is go to church. If you went to Westmont with me though, you probably saw me fall asleep in a number of chapels and know that I am no "super church girl." Sounds like the making of a great superhero doesn't it? She could carry a sword that says, "Word of God" and wear a cool helmet that says, "Salvation" with a matching "Truth" belt. Oh man, you know you're a nerd when you get such a kick out of biblical humor as I do. One of my favorite jokes which I can't wait to use in my history class is as follows: "How long did Cain hate his brother?" Answer: as long he was able. And I wonder why I'm still single... Ok, enough chicken walking, back to the point: I have been greatly impacted by the church services here and love being with the locals and although I do spend a lot of time with a certain "brown boy," the language barrier prevents me from "hanging with the locals" as much as I'd like to. I apologize if the "brown boy" comment was offensive to anyone, I blame my parents for not ingraining within me the importance of being "P.C." and of course I was merely referring to Gizmo. (whenever I try to take a picture with him, he insists on trying to lick my face which is why I am always closing my eyes)

I'm going to break pattern here and throw in a "Danny Tanner" moment before the end of the entry. Speaking of, isn't it odd that those Olsen girls grew up learning great moral lessons from Uncle Joey and Jesse and the like, only to turn out so lost- perhaps that's judgmental of me, I really don't know what their spiritual lives are like, but US Weekly (which yes, is very factual) does not paint them in the best light. Ok,back to the Danny Tanner moment: I read something in "Experiencing God Day by Day" which completely applies to my experiences here thus far:

"Your Heavenly Father Knows You"

Matthew 6:8 "Therefore do not be like them (them being the hypocrites who pray long, public prayers just to be seen). For your Father knows the things you have need of before you ask Him."

"Even before we call on Him, the Father has already begun to provide all that we need (Isa. 65:24). Jesus wanted His disciples to learn how intimately God knew and loved each of them. That is why He told them to pray. He assured them that even before they prayed, God knew all about their situation.

Prayer is not designed for us to inform God of our needs, for He already knows them. Why, then, should we pray? Prayer enables us to experience God more intimately. The more a child experiences the loving provision of a parent, the more convinced he becomes of his parents' unrelenting love. Often a parent will anticipate a child's need before the child recognizes it and be prepared in advance to provide for that need. Our heavenly Father knows exactly what we will face today and next week. He is eager for us to experience Him as He provides for us.

To our surprise, we often discover that God knows far better than we do what is best for us. At times we assume that we know what would benefit us. We can even be foolish enough to assume that we don't require anything of God. Yet God wants us to go to Him in our need (Matt. 7:7). He is ready to show His strength through our weakness. Our heavenly Father knows exactly what is best for us, and He is prepared to provide for every need, if we will but ask (Phil. 4:13). "

Months before I came here, I would often pray a very vague prayer for preparation and that God would “go before me,” not knowing exactly what that would look like. Now I know. God came before me and prepared a wonderful place for me to live with a fabulous roommate. He came before me and prepared a bible study with other Americans. So often I have felt like I accidentally ate crazy glue (which wouldn't surprise me since I once cleaned my face with nail polish remover, yes, it killed) and my lips are sealed shut (is anyone else now singing, “Our Lips are Sealed?”) since I can’t speak Portuguese. (Sorry that sentence was so confusing.) So it was a huge blessing to be able to actually talk to a group of Christians and to be fed spiritually as we discussed the book of James. The house where we meet is in walking distance from our house and my new British friend Aisha took me on Tuesday.

God has clearly come before me and paved the way. I just read the verse in Ephesians which says, "For we are God's workmanship, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do." The verses immediately prior to this, stress the importance of understanding that we are not saved by our good works, we are saved through faith, a total gift from God. So although we are not saved or loved because of our works, God prepares work for us to do. The works He has prepared for me at this stage in my life is to serve and inspire my students at CAM. My very insightful future sister-in-law recently pointed out that God has all in different places to do different good works. I hope she doesn't mind if I quote her:

"At CUi I took a class in ministry and it talked about how we are all called to service and called for each individual occupation, you don't have to be a teacher or a pastor to be called by God. It's so true though...while your calling right now is to serve in MZ, mine is to work as God's hand in nursing..."

Indeed wherever we are, we are God's servants and he has prepared good works for us- not so we can boast and earn His favor, but rather, so we can glorify Him.

Alright, I'm struggling transitioning...So other than going to church and bible studies, here are some other things I have been doing before school starts.

* Running with Aisha. Wouldn't that be cruel if she was Asian? Aisha is our neighbor's girlfriend and is here to do research for her PhD in social work. So she's only 27 about to get her PhD and she's British- yes I feel stupid 95 percent of the time I'm around her. Those Brits seem to be so smart although my friend Jenny assures me that it's just the accent. Many of you know I love speaking in a British accent and fear that Aisha must think I am trying to be like her since I find myself speaking very proper when she's around. God knew that I would need to run here but he also knew that I wouldn't have the most meaningful conversations with Gizmo, so he brought Aisha. Unfortunately she leaves at the end of August, but she has been wonderful in showing me the ropes and how to survive by myself on the streets as a young, white girl. (did that just sound like we're prostitutes?) Oh and I have to tell you about another "Katie" moment when we took the picture below. We run at 6 in the morning (I know I'm desperate for friends or I never would agree to this) and after a run one morning I got my camera and asked the guard to take our picture. What I haven't told you is the guard speaks no English and I still asked him in English figuring my charade skills would suffice. I also did not tell you that our guard is about 80, almost completely blind and has never seen a camera before. (I know- not real comforting to have a blind guard but the robbers don't know that) So I do my pantomiming, hand him the digital camera and stand next to Aisha. This adorable man then pointed the camera at himself and just stood there. It was at that moment, I realized my "Katie" moment.

If any of you are planning a trip to England, you need to read this next part. I told my friend Katie about how I'm learning all these new British phrases and she decided to help me out and sent me the following bits of advice: (Katie, sorry I didn't ask, hope you don't mind cause there's really nothing you can do about it!)

"Now that it is nearing the start of school, I thought it my duty (can't help but laugh at that word) to warn you of some British sayings you may come across. These phrases or words might alarm you at first. But, have no fear, this is the reason for the warning:

1. Rubber. No, no, your student is not asking you for a condom. They just want an eraser and an abstinence lecture might get YOU called into the principles office.

2. Mate. Again, it is not the season or a request...just talking about a friend here.

3. Plimsolls. Yeah, there are all sorts of strange because this means gym shoes. I think you should just call them your "tennis" like my grams.

4. Mucking Around. Make sure you are listening closely on this one. Oh, and be careful when trying to use it because the ol' shoulder devil is in your dome chanting the rhyme to this and it might slip out...again, ending in a principal visit.

5. Sleeping Policeman. Not sure if there are any of these down there...but your new British friends are talking about speed bumps. This one is actually kind of funny. Can't make fun of them here. But, you can call them "Topes" and impress them all with your Spanish knowledge. (I know this because when we took a family vacation outside of Cancun we all got the trots bad. We learned to call out the massive speed bumps in advance so we could all flex hard.)

6. Lorry. Why they call a truck a girl's name is beyond me...but when they say "Mind the Lorry" you should not think to yourself "I can take her...bring it on". Just get out da way!

7. Ice Lolly. Not a cold Wet Willy. If you are offered this by a Brit...take it.

8. Lass and Lad...self explanatory I know. I would die happy if you said to your Brit friend, "Hey ya, Lass, stop mucking around and mind that sleeping policeman. Grab me a rubber whilst you are at it!" If they get out of the way you could tell them that it was a good thing they were wearing their plimsolls this fortnight. What a "chum" you would be. Good "mates" are hard to find."
Now don't you wish this Katie had her own blog- I'm going to take this moment to suggest it to her:) She is quite the master at photoshop but you'll have to ask her why she was holding an axe and bow. OK, I feel kinda bad posting a picture of Katie without her permission. To make her feel better, I'll post a few other random photos but won't name any names.


Moral of the story: be careful what you send me and take funny pictures of your loved ones and send them to me and I'll post them so we can ALL have a good laugh!

* I've also been trying to pick up Portuguese by watching TV and movies with Portuguese subtitles. This is how I justify buying pirated movies. Actually, I don't really need to justify it, I've never really been convicted about buying pirated movies- if you are convicted, you are holier than I. I was way too excited when I saw they already had Harry Potter on the black market. Tempted to make a non-p.c. joke, but I'll refrain. I did just finish my first official Portuguese lesson tonight given my a local Mozambican so hopefully I won't be the "dumb mute" for too much longer.

* READING! If you thought I was cool before, now you know I am an avid Harry Potter fan and a book worm. I recently finished A Thousand Splendid Suns which was absolutely fabulous! I highly recommend this book- it's a fictional story about 2 women in Afghanistan and takes you through some of Afghanistan's tragic history. I think I scared Madalena when she saw me reading and I was continually wiping eyes so I could see the words through my tears. My dad wasn't quite as big a fan as I, so men might not be as into this one as us women. (I don't think I've ever referred to myself as a woman, lady maybe, but not a woman.)

* Eating!! Definitely a favorite pastime of mine. Aisha, a friend of hers, Mada and myself had quite the Friday night dinner last week. I know Amazing Race already came to Maputo but they really should have had a challenge involving where we went to eat. We went to the fish market where fishermen sell whatever they caught that day (or week) and then you bring it to one of the many small restaurants which cook it for you. We bought prawns that were larger than my cat! OK maybe not quite that big, but they were HUGE. I was imagining contestants from Amazing Race having to find a certain seller and buy a large amount of something nasty and then have it cooked and eat an entire plate of it. I've never eaten a fish with the eyeballs included and definitely choked on a few bones. The lighting wasn't that great so I'm pretty sure I ate more than I was supposed to of the shrimp but I'm glad I was oblivious. I wish I had pictures but it wasn't the safest part of town.

* Convincing Lupito that he's still cute after his haircut. Poor little rat got a mean burn from hot water. We're still not sure if the blind guard accidentally threw hot water on him or a disgruntled neighbor tried to shut up the little yapper by burning him. Either way, he is pretty ugly now but I am growing quite fond of him. However, he did lick my leg a lot yesterday and I woke up with rash where he licked so I need to keep my distance. Looks as if I took photography lessons from my mom and have started to chop off the top of my head:)

* Lesson planning. I go to this amazing park just a few minutes walk from the house and sit in the sun and plan. I love spending time at this park becaue I am surrounded by things I love. I am able to bask in the sun, lounge on a bench which overlooks the ocean, sit near the playground with the sounds of children laughing as they fly off the teeter-totter, listen to 90's music such as Backstreet Boyz coming from a near-by restaurant, eat delicious ice cream from the shop a few feet away and my favorite: people watch. I was at my bench last Friday when I heard singing coming from the other side of the park. Being the busybody that I am, I walked towards the singing and saw 2 brides and all of their family and friends surrounding them. Since the park is so beautiful, most people come here to take wedding pictures before the ceremony but EVERYONE comes with. The posse followed the bride and groom and photographer, singing and dancing all the while! I plopped down on a bench with a good view of it all and had to cover my mouth when I accidentally laughed out loud. I wasn't laughing at the tradition, I was laughing because I had the sudden image of the VanderDussen clan following around the new bride singing and dancing. The aunts can do a mean YMCA but that's about it:)

* Exploring! I've walked around the city a bunch by myself to get acquainted and start feeling like less of a tourist and more of a local. I walked to the school, CAM, which is about a 35 minute walk and was overwhelmed by new sights and smells as I walked. Sidewalks in Maputo are very different from what I'm used to. At home I had to avoid the occasional dog droppings and crack in the sidewalk. Here, gigantic trees grow in the middle of the sidewalk creating huge piles of broken cement blocks and the dog doodoo is the least of your worries in "things to avoid stepping on." The sidewalks are as wide as a one-way street because they are also the location of many "stores." Women set up shop on the sidewalk which means they lay a blanket down and display their vegetables while men sell shoes or clothes which are piled on a blanket and teenagers pace the streets selling nuts. Young boys set up soccer matches on the sidewalk, using coke bottles as goal posts and of course there are beggars on every corner. I blew my cover a number of times that I was not a local when I didn't know which way to look down the streets to watch for cars and nearly got hit.

Madalena took me to see a fishing village near the city to observe a different lifestyle. Being the bold woman that she is, she stopped when she saw a great picture opportunity and asked the women if I could take their picture. They laughed and said ok, for a price:) Of course.










Madalena also took me exploring on the beach where the tide goes really far out and leaves miles of dry land. As we walked, I noticed thousands of tiny holes and as we approached a pool of water, discovered that millions of crabs were underfoot! I tried my best to pretend like I wasn't thoroughly grossed out by the crabs but Mada saw the initial look of horror on my face and tried to push me into a gianormous colony of crabs! Not funny.

As we walked and studied the crabs, I asked Mada about the giant piles of sand everywhere and she informed me she thought that these were actually piles of crab poop mixed with sand. Now you marine biologists may discredit her theory but either way, it got me thinking. Here were these amazing creatures, gazillions of them, living in the ocean and under my feet and I didn't even notice them. Yet, they left signs of where they had been, their piles of poop. Makes you think of God doesn't it? Not in reference to the poop, but how He is at work constantly behind the scenes. We don't always notice Him working but if we look closely, sometimes we'll see a "pile of poop" or some other clue and see that God has been there. He was working all along. I fear that I don't always acknowledge or thank God for the ways He works in my life. I take so much for granted and fail to notice Him at work. My prayer is that daily, I would see Him working, in my life, the lives of others, in Mozambique.

I just couldn't end without having a Danny Tanner moment:)