O Christmas Tree

Christmas is coming, though being hot and sticky all the time and my pealing sunburn seems to be telling me differently. Reguardless, the approach of Christmas has brought up some fun stories and contemplation.

A few weeks back I was piled into the back row of a van along with several of the teens as we drove to the waterfall with students who where here for training. On the top of a distant hill I saw what I thought looked almost like an orchard. Wanting to know what kind of trees they were I pointed them out and asked the teen next to me, "What is growing on top of that hill?" He answered with a word I didn't recognize. Still thinking along the lines of an orchard, my next question was, "Can you eat it?" (I have been perfecting the art of asking questions to find out things I want to know) He gave me a weird look and then everyone within hearing started laughing. He carefully pronounced the word again, and when met with my blank stare, the girl next to him carefully said, "Christmas tree." My question was repeated through out the day and brought lots of laughter. And the question remains, can you eat a Christmas? Who knows...

Standing on the landing of the Alpha School with several of the students, we began discussing Christmas and they were asking about Christmas in America. I told them a little about it and said I was still waiting for the snow here because Christmas without snow just isn't ok. One of the students, with a big grin, said, "oh we have snow!" And pointed to the white fluffy clouds floating across and bright blue sky. "It stays up in the sky here." I am now my hopeful then ever that there will be snow for Christmas even if I do wear the coolest outfit I have for church and sweat the whole day. :)

The approach of the holiday season has not only brought about fun stories but contemplation. On Black Friday I was squeezed into the taxi be on my way to work with Haja on Malagasy. Looking out the window I saw everyone going about their lives as usual. Women sat by veggie stands on the side of the road. Men walked by pulling impossibly large loads on carts behind them. Children carried stacks of bricks on their heads. I thought of the crowds of people that I knew would be waiting outside stores in America waiting to crowd in and buy more stuff when they already had more then anyone here would ever even dream about. What does it look like to have "enough?" How can my two worlds, the one I grew up in and the one I now live in be so different? If only...if only those in America could see what I see everyday. If only the Malagasy people had enough. But then, what is enough?

One of names for God that I have always loved is Emmanuel. God with us. Each Christmas (and many times through out the year) I think back to a series of sermons at my church a few years back entitled 'He stooped to make us great.' It has always amazed me that Jesus was willing to come to earth for us. This year more then ever I can't seem to wrap my mind around the idea that Jesus left Heaven, came down here, and became one of us. Not because He had to but for love. For us. I am thankful for His example of sacrifical love more then ever this Christmas. This Christmas will most definately different then any Christmas I have had before, but one thing is for sure. More then ever before I will be celebrating Andriamanitra amsika! (God with us)

More First's

The trainings, Instructors Of Teachers II and Teaching Children Effectively II, completed, the teens and I stood staring at all the tables we had just maneuvered down the twisting staircase of the three story training location. Now to get the tables back to Pastor D's house, preferably in a timely fashion. The boys began hoisting the tables up and placing them on the girl's heads. Remembering back to 2006 and the attempt at trying to carry water on my head (which was a complete and hylarious failure), I decided it was time to try again. Hestitantly and with laughter, Tojo lifted up a table and placed it on my head. To my great surprise, and the surprise of everyone around, I was able to get to Pastor D's without even so much as a close call. I think you could almost use the word graceful. :)
Bright and early the next morning the CEF of Madagascar staff conference began. Staff conferences in WA had always been fun and I was hoping this one would turn out the same. About 30 CEF staff from all over the country were there (all Malagasy except one couple from South Africa). For two days, from 8 in the morning until 8 at night the meetings continued. Sitting and listening to Malagasy all day was a great opportunity for listening practice. I was surprised how much I was able to follow. Pastor D gave me the opportunity to share about CYIA. The staff seemed excited to see CYIA come here. I most enjoyed getting to know all the staff and the opportunity to practice my Malagasy with new people. They teased me endlessly when my fear of large cockroaches became known. I even got to participate in my first Malagasy skit. Thankfully, my group was assigned the story of Lazarus. It was unanomously decided that I should be Lazarus who was dead most of the time, didn't have any lines, and only had to come out of the grave when called. :)
As I continue learning the language and the culture, I am thankful for each new adventure.  Thank you for praying for me!

My World Through the Eyes of Another

As Janet and I walked around the city, she snapped pictures like crazy. I was taken back in time to when I first arrived and everything was new and different; picture worth. Pausing along the way as Janet took another picture; I realized that this was now my world. I couldn’t even imagine having to return to the USA and leaving behind this country. These people, even the ones I just pass along the street, have touched my heart in a way I can’t describe except to say that God is working in my heart to make my heart’s desire match His. I am so thankful for each of you who support me through financial support and prayer. Since you are having such a big impact in my world, I thought you might want to catch of glimpse of what it looks like.


The name of the city nearest mine is written across the hill behind my house.

 



Rush hour traffic includes not just cars and taxis but cows and carts of all sorts as well. It is completely normal to be dodging cows also on their way home as I walk from Pastor D's house to the taxi stop in the evenings.




This is the beautiful captial city of Antananarivo, which is where I live.




This man is waiting for a taxi be with a bunch of baskets. The baskets will be sold and then are often filled with vegetables, produce, ducks or chickens that are being taken to market. The people carry these baskets on their heads.




This is one of the fruit stands where I often buy fruit.




This man pulls a cart around delivering various goods to different locations. These carts are often piled high and several men pull/push them.




This is the market closest to my house where I often buy vegetables. The people who run the stands are used to my halting Malagasy and have alot of fun talking (or trying to...) to me. :)

 Thank you for investing your resources into this beautiful world that God has called us to.

What Does a Cow Say?

What does a cow say?? The question brings memories flooding back. A little red toy barn complete with a set of farm animals. When you opened the door there was the sound of a cow, ‘moo!’ I remember the times I was suppose to be taking a nap in my room and played with my farm instead, trying to stifle the ‘moo’ as I opened the door to let the animals out of the barn so mom wouldn’t hear. (Yes, mom, I did that….) Or there was the toy that had a wheel you spun and correctly matched the sound it made with the animal. ‘Moo!’ said the cow. For the last 26 years cows have always said ‘moo,’ whether they were real or just toys. Cows don’t ‘moo’ anymore. They ‘maa.’ “Cows don’t even say ‘moo’ here!!” I found myself retorting when discovering this fact.

I have been slowly learning that everything here is different then the world I grew up in.  Cows don’t say ‘moo.’ When you get hurt you don’t say ‘ouch.’ The appropriate response is ‘ahy!’ (that’s right, just like a pirate!!) Instead of haha, you say heyhey, and the list goes on. Learning a whole new way of looking at the world and responding to it often feels like an uphill battle. Many days I find myself going to bed wondering if I made any progress that day. Was I any more ‘Malagasy’ today then I was yesterday? Is my vocabulary any bigger? Did I understand more? Could I participate more?

This last week was an eye opener. Janet Walker arrived on Wednesday. She will be helping to teach an Instructor of Teachers 2 training here this month. I figured I would be thrilled to death being free to speak English with another native speaker. I thought I’d love meeting the other English trainers and trainees. To my great shock, it was just the opposite. I was far more comfortable just hanging out with the Malagasy family who I have grown to love and who accept me despite the color of my skin and the plethora of cultural and language blunders I make. I found myself talking to the English speakers in Malagasy by accident. Given the choice, I preferred to be with my Malagasy family and speak Malagasy rather then speak English and try to fit back into the culture I left behind. Today I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that I am a little more Malagasy today then I was yesterday. My vocabulary is a little bigger. I understood and was able to participate a little bit more. Even though I am still working at learning the culture and the language, and far from being fluent at either, I must confess it brought a smile to my face to hear on several occasions my Malagasy family tell one of the English speakers, “She’s Malagasy.”

Janet arrived with a few free days before the training started, so on Friday, several of the boys and I took her to the zoo.

Sangy

On Monday evening I answered a knock at my door.  One of the teens had stopped by with a basket that was pinned closed. Inside was a new addition to my house. When the basket was opened, a little gray/brown tabby kitten crawled out. There hasn’t been a dull moment here since. He has endless energy and is either busy getting into everything imaginable or he is sleeping on someone’s lap. His favorite antic so far has been climbing up anyone’s pants who is cooking or doing the dishes to get a good view. He digs his claws in and just hangs there watching what is going on. His name is Sangy, which means messing around in Malagasy. J

Last night a few of the boys came over to meet him. We went to the market to get veggies and some meat for dinner. At the first market, we couldn’t get the meat we wanted so we walked to a different one. On the way, one of the boys mentioned that we needed to find some meat because we have Sangy. I thought he said if we couldn’t find any meat then at least we have Sangy….like to eat…. After my horrified reaction, thankfully, we got the miscommunication straightened out. J

More Then Just a Song

Have you ever worshiped God in a language that wasn’t even your own?  I don’t mean have you sung a song about God in another language. I mean have you ever connected with God, spilling out your heart in a language other then your own?

In the often crazy world of going through the process of learning a new culture and language, God has been reminding me over and over to cling to Him and run to Him. He alone is more then able to hold my world in His hands. Isaiah 40 and Psalm 90 are favorite chapters that get read often.

A few of the teens came over last night and we begin discussing music, and the fact that I really need to work on learning some songs…more then just the songs we sing with the kid. As I enjoyed having an actual conversation in Malagasy, I asked them to write the words to a song they often sing at Bible Study on Sunday nights since it isn’t in my hymn book and I love the tune. I figured I would learn a few new words and be able to sing along next time they sing it. My plan was to have them write the words so that I could ask Haja the meaning the next day. Sitting down together, I decided to ask them about the meaning of one of the words, since they know some English. To my great thrill, they explained the meaning of each of the words I didn’t know to me in Malagasy, and the exciting part was that I understood! Even more amazing was the meaning behind the song. It talks about God being our dwelling place forever, our shelter during storms, and how he carries us. The end of the song professes trust in God and a declaration to live under His shelter forever. It was truly a God thing as we sat there discussing this amazing song that was an expression of what God had been doing in my heart. Being able to sing from my heart to God in this language that each day I strain to learn and comprehend, made me fall in love with Malagasy all over again and increased my desire that this beautiful language becomes my heart language.

They let me record them singing it so that I can practice and learn it by heart. What amazing kids. J I wish you could hear it and sing it along with me, but I figure you might at least like to see what it looks like.

Efa fonenanay hatrizay hatrizay ianao Tompo o

Fialofanay amin’ oram-pahavanatra ianao

Fan a inona hiseho sy izay ho entin’ny hapitso

Efa fonenanay hatrizay hatrizay ianao hatrizay ka hatramin’ izao

                Tompo o matoky anao foana aho

                Mialoka aminao foana aho

                Efa fonenanay ianao hatrizay ka hatramin’izao

Taboo

I used to think I was pretty decent at playing the game Taboo. A group of people are divided into two teams, and people from the teams go back and forth drawing cards and trying to get the other members of their team to say the word on the card but they can’t say four or five words that are listed on the card that would usually be used to describe the word. Basically you have to be creative with how you explain the word and talk fast.

Madagascar has taken Taboo to a whole new level. So you don’t know a word, no problem. You just need to find a way to describe it using words you do know. For example, as it is becoming warm outside, I often take advantage of the sun rays in an attempt work on the tan, so that I don’t feel like I glow quite so much. No one seems to understand why I am sitting in the sun, and as they cower in the shade, they often ask why are you sitting in the sun?? Aren’t you hot?? Is there a word for ‘tanning’ in Malagasy? I’m not sure, but if there is I don’t know it. So my response is, “Mila maka loko aho” (I need to get some color). This always makes everyone laugh, and some people even offer to trade skin colors with me. I still haven’t learned the word for tanning, but “Mila maka loko” has become common knowledge and they even use it to explain to others why I am sitting in the sun.

Next time I play Taboo with you, I am pretty sure I’ll beat your socks off, unless of course you are another missionary in a similar situation…then game on!