Oh South Asia, You Never Fail to Surprise Me.

(Wednesday September 7^th)

Today was literally the craziest day I have had here. With three months' experience in dozens of different homes, towns and cities, that's saying something. The day began innocently enough, with a skype date and printing off some education surveys to distribute at my friend Swata's school, which is down the street from our office. I walked into the large, really new looking green ediface, not really sure I was at the right place. I explained to the man at the admissions desk who I was and where I was from. I had really just wanted an excuse to see my friends and to see what the school they taught at was like. I then met the Vice Principal. The last school Melissa and I visited has an extremely skeptical and questioning vice principal. This man was her utter opposite. From behind his large black spectacles, his eyes widened as I gave my explanation about wanting to observe some classes to learn about the education system here, “Oh! You're from America! Our friendly country! Yes, of course. Come!” I was soon announced as a “surprise” to a group of class 12 boys studying physics. They all stood, as one, and smiled broadly as I entered. Their teacher graciously allowed me to observe her lesson, and, for the most part, the boys seemed to be paying attention other than occaisional stolen glances at me. No matter how long I live here, it never fails to surprise me that the color of my skin should be a novelty. I have often wished that I could simply blend in, but my nationality and race also open the doors to relationships that I would never be able to have if I were a national. So though I don't wish to be loved and instantly accepted because I come from the “friendly country,” I realize the value of my work here for opening doors for nationals to do the same work I'm doing long after I'm gone. That's the goal out here, to work ourselves out of a job.

Forty five minutes later, I was placed into another class, this time class 11 trigonometry (again, totally out of my league in terms of subjects I understand). I was pleased to see five girls in this class, and I sat on their side of the room opposite about 19 boys and observed the lesson. After the lesson, the teacher asked me if I had “any speech to give” for the students. As usual when put on the spot in this culture (an almost daily occurrence), I turned the question to the students and asked if they had any questions about schools in America. They were incredibly excited to hear what I had to say. Later, two of the girls were awarded a prize for getting perfect marks on their last exam, and of course I had to hand them the gift. Two of the girls sitting behind me quietly asked if I celebrated Christmas in America. When I responded that I did, and was starting to tell them what we do on Christmas, they said “We know. We are also believers. What fellowship do you go to?” I have never had a stranger apporach me and respond that they were also a believer, so needless to say I was excited. However, just as I was about to join the girls on their lunch break, the teachers pulled me into their lounge for tea and conversation. All of them are well educated and speak excellent English. I answered questions about our work here and my own background. After realizing that I spoke their language as well, the chemistry teacher and the Economics teacher ganged up on me and insisted that I sing them a song in the national language and our local language. (Being asked to sing a song for someone you've just met is also a really common thing. In fact, many people here tend to burst out into song spontaneously and without regard for their surroundings. It's one of my favorite things about this culture.) I sang them a believing song in the local language that our homestay mother taught us, as well as another that I know in the national language (which I do not speak), praying as I sang (and as my chemistry teaching friend recorded my voice on her cell phone) that they would somehow understand what I was singing and know Who I truly represent. Singing believing songs is a great opportunity to share the truth in public settings when speaking it directly is nearly always forbidden.

I bid my friends goodbye and left our phone number and contact information for the vice principal in case he wants to invite us back to the school for a training. I have the feeling I'll be welcome again there any time. I headed across town to a local department store to meet some of my friends for their lunch break. A few days ago, Melissa and I met for a coffee there with Liz to discuss our education work, and stopped in the grocery section. I asked one of the female employees if they had any liquid milk (most people use only the powdered kind), and her face brightened as she asked me if I spoke her language. We talked for a few minutes as other workers began to surround us, also smiling widely. Within a few minutes, we had exchanged contact numbers with two of the women. I love how the father brings us new friends out of nowhere, even when we're not expecting them. (I met my teacher friends when I was eating lunch alone at a local restaurant before a meeting one day. They looked like they might speak English, so I smiled and greeted them in their language. Of course, the continual response is total shock that I know their language, and I instantly have a new friend.). So on Wednesday, I went back to the department store to join Ritu and her friends for their lunch break. We had a hilarious time, sharing chicken chow mein and egg rolls (not typical local cuisine, but many people eat other types of Asian food as a snack). There was so much laughter as we attempted to communicate. Melissa joined us and we took photos together before they had to return to work. Ritu seems to really enjoy my company, as evidenced by the fact that she now calls me several times a day. She's so funny and full of life, and I really want her to know the Father. It's a little difficult to understand her over the phone, but we're trying to make plans to hang out again because I told her I want to spend a lot of time with her. I feel that Dad has shown me several ladies he wants me to invest in, all of whom are unbelievers who I met randomly. As crazy as our days always are in the city, no meeting or interaction ever seems to be without purpose. Even the auto drivers who are consistently rude and try to charge us double the fair price every day teach me patience!

After lunch with the girls, Melissa, Liz and I headed over to meet our new language teacher. It took us several weeks to find a good helper here in the city, but B. is really good and willing to teach us what we want to know, rather than giving us a list of things she wants us to know, which was the method of our home stay teacher. B. and her husband are from a Neighbor background, but B. is really seeking the truth. We believe that she'll probably make a decision to follow within the next month or two. What she really needs most is to talk to another national woman who has made the same decision to follow from a different background. Ask that the father would provide through the women at our NGO and others we know who can invest in her. Her husband does not have any interest in the truth at this point in time. While Melissa had her lesson, I did some exploring around the neighborhood. I ended up across the street from B's house in front of a small, one room bamboo house with some women who were sitting in their yard with their small children. We chatted for about forty five minutes. As I was sitting in the yard talking to these women, B's husband came from across the street and asked what I was doing. I had met him just an hour before, but I somehow didn't recognize him. Thus, I politely looked away and said hello and he walked away. B. later told me that he had wondered what I was doing talking to their neighbors, who are strangers to me, but was too embarassed to keep talking to me when I didn't recognize him! One of my favorite things to do is follow random people into their homes to take tea after talking with them at their shop or in their front yard. In America this is an incredibly bad idea, and would surely be unsafe, but it's how we make friends! Once you have been granted entrance to someone's home, you are really a part of their life. Culturally, they consider you to be a close friend, even a member of their extended family, once you've spent time in their home.

So, naturally, Melissa and I ended up in these womens' home for tea. We were greeted inside by a goat and a chicken, and were led to the sitting room, which for most people is also their bedroom. It was growing dark and we needed to leave, but it's hard to say no when kind people are offering you tea, biscuits and fresh fruit. It was so good to spend so much time investing in nationals and building new relationships, I'm more than glad we have a day like this built into our schedule. I love being at the point where I can walk down our road or down the street by our office and have friends up and down the road greet me as I go. We may live in a city of three million people, but we are still, undoubtedly, a part of a community.

**An update on our language teacher. She chose to believe this week! Praise Dad for His unending faithfulness.**

At lumch with our national partners celebrating Melissa's 22nd Birthday!

I'm really obsessed with all the cute children here.

Celebrating Eid at my friend's house! Note the saree. 

Hanging out at youth group!

Aytu Moor Jibwon (This Is My Life)

Hey dear friends and family,
It's been about a month since I've written, but not for lack of trying! Our internet connection is really terrible here. Luckily for you all...I typed my blog posts. Today you get two. We're doing really well. Still really healthy, neither Melissa or I have gotten seriously sick, and I am beginning to feel at home here. We've been living in a city of three million people since early August. So, without further ado...this is my life.

Moor Jibwon (My life)

I live in South Asia. I work at an NGO with some of the most amazing national believers in our state. I train teachers. I live with three hilarious and amazing American women. I take a bicycle rickshaw to work every day. I eat more white rice than is healthy for any person to eat (and my portions are still only about a quarter of what a national person would eat!) I walk several miles on a daily basis. Sometimes children follow me down the street. Sometimes I take beggars out for lunch. I spend a lot of time in people's homes eating rice and taking tea and trying to speak the language. I make new friends on the street, in restaurants, in shopping malls, wherever Dad brings them to me. Some speak English really well, some don't speak a word. Every day is a totally different adventure.

You may ask if we have any sort of routine out here.. my answer is yes and no. In a large city that is constantly in motion where traffic jams, power outages and political protests often completely alter the schedule of your day, nothing is typical. I am rarely surprised and usually try to expect that things will not happen as I want them to. My friends will probably not be on time for a lunch date. My meeting at the office will probably not start until an hour or so after it was slated to. The bus I'm waiting for will probably not arrive on time. This is simply not a time oriented society.

On Sundays, we attend local fellowships with our national friends. Recently, a few of us have been participating at my coworker Madonna's fellowship. We're even performing in a drama and singing songs with the kids on Youth Sunday next week. The service is very different than what I'm accustomed to, but I love the way we all gather for tea and don't just rush away when the service is over. Sunday afternoons are always different. Last week, for instance, Melissa and I went to the home of a shopkeeper who lives on the road next to our office. Melissa met them on our community day last week (see her blog if you want the full, hilarious story on that!) This man is really a person of peace, and he has really adopted us as his daughters. He has repeatedly defended us. For instance, when I arrived at their storefront to meet them for lunch, my rickshaw driver wanted extra money because it was hot. As I was about to give it to him, our da-da (older brother) rushed up, handed the driver his own money for my ride and berated him for asking for money. Another particularly hot day, Melissa and and I were walking by and couldn't find a rickshaw home. He insisted we sit down in chairs on the sidewalk in front of his store until he found a ride for us. He then instructed us not to give the man any money, because he would pay him when he returned that way. I can't emphasize enough how once you're in someone's home, you're really a part of their life from that point forward, whether you ever visit again or not. Our dada's language is really difficult to understand because he's from a different state, but his wife is a local and I understand her well. They have three primary school aged children and are so sweet.

On Monday mornings, twice a month, we have big meetings with all of our national partners about the work that is going on. There's health work. Water sanitation. Community development. CP-ing. Education. Soon there will be work in anti-trafficking. Our partners focus in different villages all around the state, and of course in our own city. Melissa and I each attend one of these meetings every month. It's incredible to see the progress that's being made and the way that different teams are working together to promote Dad's message in every community. Even our teacher trainings will mostly be conducted in areas where other teams like community development have gone before. It's a really cool strategy, and so encouraging. People are getting dunked and house fellowships are springing up all over the state. In the last five years, approximately 5,000 new fellowships, typically averaging around 20 people per group have begun!

On Tuesday mornings we focus on our people group research. We've asked many of you to lift up our work with this group. They are totally unreached and unengaged. They're upper class orthodox Neighbors who also believe strongly in astrology.We're currently working on gaining a meeting with a community leader in a nearby village. Our partners believe he is the key to reaching this group, because he knows everyone and is so well respected. As our supervisor says, there's a reason that groups like this are unreached- they are hard to find and really difficult to gain access to, and countless others have chosen different, easier groups to reach. We're partnering with a couple of nationals at our NGO who have visited this village and shared the truth before. They know who we are and are fully aware of Who we follow. Yet they are really interested to have foreigners come and observe their culture and promote tourism to their areas. As modernization touches even the most interior of villages all over our country, young people are leaving their homes in favor of education, well paying jobs and city life. They do not want to go back to life in their villages, and leaders in this particular village fear that their heritage will be lost. Since Dad is the creator of every unique culture, we're all about helping them realize that goal as we declare the truth. Ask that the people in this village will realize that the Son is not foreign, but the very one their hearts have been longing for as they seek truth. On Tuesday afternoons we meet with our supervisor for mentoring. We're studying the word together, and it has been really encouraging as we can share struggles and be transparent with her.

Wednesdays are our community day (see one example described in detail in my other post). The idea is to stay away from the office, our teaching work and our “official” duties for an entire day each week and be out practicing language, meeting friends and building new relationships. Wednesdays never fail to be exciting.

On Thursday mornings, twice a month we teach home school to two enthustiatic four year olds and two six year olds. They are the children of our supervisors and another American who lives here. Lately, we've been teaching P.E. It's absolutely hilarious. It's a great opportunity to practice what we're teaching teachers in our trainings...things like transitions between activities and behavior management, like when one of your preschoolers gets really upset because they've lost a game. I love the opportunity to be able to refresh our friends in this way, so that they as busy moms can get out and enjoy a little of their own community time. On Thursday afternoons we meet as an education team to plan curriculum and develop resources for the teacher trainings we will lead throughout the semester. The idea is to have a file of information and a ready to go lesson plan file for each subject so that anyone after us can come and teach what we have taught. Schools here are unbelievably different than Western schools. From kindergarten onward, every ounce of information is learned by rote memorization. One way that we're trying to insert the truth into what we teach is by talking to teachers about character education lessons and using stories from the word to illustrate these qualities. Recently, Melissa and I went to teach a character education lesson for class 9 and 10 girls at a local school where most of the children are unbelievers. We taught about love. After asking them what they thought love is and receiving answers like “Love is magic!” I read them the best definition of love I have ever heard- from the love chapter in the Word. We then told them the parable of the good samaritan and had them act it out in small groups, making it a competition to see which group could tell the story most clearly. The girls loved it. They laughed hysterically the entire time, but they really seemed to understand the point. We talked about how love is not a feeling, it is a choice we must make every day. What an incredible opportunity to be sharing truth in an indirect way, with girls who have probably heard other stories from the word but are not from believing backgrounds at all (their school is run by a believer). Ask that we can be creative as we seek more opportunities to share truth with students and teachers.

Fridays are our days off, which are wonderful times for renewal with the the father, as well as a good chance to sleep in and do something like go out for coffee. On Saturday mornings, we enjoy house fellowship as a group of expats. It's been so good to be challenged and held accountable by one another as well as intercede for each other and for the relationships we're building in the community.

All this semblance of a schedule is obviously intermixed by relationships. There are so many people who want to know us, who want our time. Yet I have noticed that Dad directs me to certain people... on Melissa's birthday, we were leaving a meeting at a local school when a boy and his brother, who were begging held out their plate for money. I don't always ignore beggars, but it's usually unwise to give them money. Sometimes we carry food to give. Something stirred me about these small boys for some reason, and Melissa and I ended up taking them out to lunch. When they led us to a small restaurant, we walked in with them and they asked if there was rice. The shopkeeper proceeded to shoo them away, and I told him quickly that we would pay. Their lunch of fish, rice, potatoes, vegetables and soda cost a little over three dollars. The older boy, about seven years old, conversed happily as he devoured his entire large plate of rice. We parted ways after lunch and Melissa and I headed back to work. Dad reminded me that day that I need to allow my "schedule" to be interrupted by His people in need. What kind of believer am I if I'm always rushing off to a meeting or to the next thing I have to do and ignore the hurt in the people around me? A simple thing...but kind of revolutionary for me. 

Our first teacher training participants! (In early August)

Class seven girls at a school I visited last week. They made me sign autographs.

The beautiful BP, we took a boat ride for our national partner's birthday!

Isn't this the most ridiculous thing you've ever seen? What's more, these men were all posing for us.

My buddy, A. She's the best.