Uhhhhhhhhhhhh.
Once again, I'm on multiple antibiotics....I feel like I swallowed razors...can't eat.
Owww.
Please pray!
Saturday, November 21, 2009
Thursday, November 19, 2009
We Brake For Football
Life, in this part of the world, runs on very different rhythms than the West.
And football takes a very prominent place in the hearts of these people, as I learned last night.
Three nights ago, Algeria and Egypt tied in the final qualifying round for the 2010 World Cup. With all the media and tension surrounding the game (which most of you in the West probably didn't here about--but you can google it), watching the first game was intense enough.
But when they tied on Monday night and scheduled a rematch in Sudan for Wednesday evening, the Saharawi people (and millions in the Middle East) collectively held their breath.
Four members of our team were booked to leave early Wednesday morning to head back to the United States. However, upon their arrival to the airport, they were courteously informed that all Air Algerie flights had been re-directed to Khartoum, Sudan for the game. A commercial airline actually discarded their entire schedule in order to fly football fans to Sudan!
Truly, there are some parts of the world that you never begin to understand until you see it for yourself. :-P
So, they are still here, scrambling to reschedule flights and waiting for word on when the Algerian airline will resume normal services. Because here, the unspoken rule seems to be We Brake For Football.
The Algerian cell phone service sent out a mass text saying that they were giving free roaming minutes to all subscribers travelling to the Sudan. All day on Wednesday, people marched around chanting "1, 2, 3, viva Algerie!"
I had to excuse my class early because of the absolute uproar--they couldn't concentrate.
The entire Saharawi population was restless because it was an unusually cloudy day, and they were concerned that they wouldn't be able to gather enough solar energy to power the car batteries they use to run their televisions....But the sun broke in the afternoon, to the profound relief of every Smara resident.
We rounded up at the tent of our friend Talib at 6:30 to join about 15 family members and friends who crammed together, watching with baited breath--2 hours of yelling, cursing, and praying later, we watched the Algerian team triumph, 1-0, over the Egyptian team.
And the celebration began...
Zainabo, my 25 year old Saharawi friend grabbed my arm and dragged me into the street to join the cheering crowds. The voices of 40,000 refugees joined in a chorus of yelling, horn-honking, and banging on the metal water tanks that line the sandy streets--it was the most overwhelming noise I think I've ever heard! We passed boys dancing on top of cars as we shouted with joy and joined in the banging and singing.
After the initial uproar, Zainabo dragged me back down the street to her house, where we all piled into Talib's tiny red VW and joined the zig-zagging procession that sped up and down the main road. An unloaded semi-truck rumbled by, the back filled with dozens of exuberant Sahrawis--three of them jumping up and down on the roof of the cabin.
The impromptu parade splintered, some cars circling crazily in sandy field in front of the UN building, while others, my car included, zoomed straight through the security gates and into the open desert. The winding, unmarked and unlit road was alive with swerving headlights, many cars spontaneously careening off the road and into the vast, dark expanse of sand and rocks.
All this time, we were hanging halfway out of the windows, screaming, banging on the doors, waving Algerian flags or the ends of our muhlfas at everyone and no one in particular. The wind whipped sand into my mouth as we roared along, shouting the Algerian anthem and laughing at our own ridiculousness.
The cheering and horn-honking continued late into the night, and again, this morning, people have continued for several hours to fill the air with the sounds of cheers, banging, and horns. The celebration continues, with congratulatory texts lighting up everyones' mobiles and Algerian green being touted proudly in every way, shape, and form.
What a special night...what laughter and memories! But most of all, Janet's words stuck with me--words she uttered as my friends and I tumbled into the school to say congratulations after we returned from our joyride....
(Janet is the woman who first began working with the Saharawi in 1999 and has been the head of all that has grown out of it)
"This is all for a game--and it's not even their country. I can only imagine the celebration we will witness when it is finally time for them to go home..."
And football takes a very prominent place in the hearts of these people, as I learned last night.
Three nights ago, Algeria and Egypt tied in the final qualifying round for the 2010 World Cup. With all the media and tension surrounding the game (which most of you in the West probably didn't here about--but you can google it), watching the first game was intense enough.
But when they tied on Monday night and scheduled a rematch in Sudan for Wednesday evening, the Saharawi people (and millions in the Middle East) collectively held their breath.
Four members of our team were booked to leave early Wednesday morning to head back to the United States. However, upon their arrival to the airport, they were courteously informed that all Air Algerie flights had been re-directed to Khartoum, Sudan for the game. A commercial airline actually discarded their entire schedule in order to fly football fans to Sudan!
Truly, there are some parts of the world that you never begin to understand until you see it for yourself. :-P
So, they are still here, scrambling to reschedule flights and waiting for word on when the Algerian airline will resume normal services. Because here, the unspoken rule seems to be We Brake For Football.
The Algerian cell phone service sent out a mass text saying that they were giving free roaming minutes to all subscribers travelling to the Sudan. All day on Wednesday, people marched around chanting "1, 2, 3, viva Algerie!"
I had to excuse my class early because of the absolute uproar--they couldn't concentrate.
The entire Saharawi population was restless because it was an unusually cloudy day, and they were concerned that they wouldn't be able to gather enough solar energy to power the car batteries they use to run their televisions....But the sun broke in the afternoon, to the profound relief of every Smara resident.
We rounded up at the tent of our friend Talib at 6:30 to join about 15 family members and friends who crammed together, watching with baited breath--2 hours of yelling, cursing, and praying later, we watched the Algerian team triumph, 1-0, over the Egyptian team.
And the celebration began...
Zainabo, my 25 year old Saharawi friend grabbed my arm and dragged me into the street to join the cheering crowds. The voices of 40,000 refugees joined in a chorus of yelling, horn-honking, and banging on the metal water tanks that line the sandy streets--it was the most overwhelming noise I think I've ever heard! We passed boys dancing on top of cars as we shouted with joy and joined in the banging and singing.
After the initial uproar, Zainabo dragged me back down the street to her house, where we all piled into Talib's tiny red VW and joined the zig-zagging procession that sped up and down the main road. An unloaded semi-truck rumbled by, the back filled with dozens of exuberant Sahrawis--three of them jumping up and down on the roof of the cabin.
The impromptu parade splintered, some cars circling crazily in sandy field in front of the UN building, while others, my car included, zoomed straight through the security gates and into the open desert. The winding, unmarked and unlit road was alive with swerving headlights, many cars spontaneously careening off the road and into the vast, dark expanse of sand and rocks.
All this time, we were hanging halfway out of the windows, screaming, banging on the doors, waving Algerian flags or the ends of our muhlfas at everyone and no one in particular. The wind whipped sand into my mouth as we roared along, shouting the Algerian anthem and laughing at our own ridiculousness.
The cheering and horn-honking continued late into the night, and again, this morning, people have continued for several hours to fill the air with the sounds of cheers, banging, and horns. The celebration continues, with congratulatory texts lighting up everyones' mobiles and Algerian green being touted proudly in every way, shape, and form.
What a special night...what laughter and memories! But most of all, Janet's words stuck with me--words she uttered as my friends and I tumbled into the school to say congratulations after we returned from our joyride....
(Janet is the woman who first began working with the Saharawi in 1999 and has been the head of all that has grown out of it)
"This is all for a game--and it's not even their country. I can only imagine the celebration we will witness when it is finally time for them to go home..."
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
God isn't boring.
"God is on the move...."
This has been a surreal week. Incredible.
I feel like Mary, "treasuring these things up in my heart"
I won't share too much...
But on Monday, I spoke the Word in front of imams, military leaders, and politicians from several nations...It was unexpected...but God actually used me.
I've met some incredible people who in a few days are unveiling huge things in my life and possibly in my future...
And today, I met the President of the Arab Saharan Democratic Republic...We had lunch at his residence!
Like I said...surreal.
And it's only just the beginning!!
My prayer/prayer request...that we would continue to receive guidance and annointing from the Spirit, and that God would give me the faith to step into the role he has given me to play...
This has been a surreal week. Incredible.
I feel like Mary, "treasuring these things up in my heart"
I won't share too much...
But on Monday, I spoke the Word in front of imams, military leaders, and politicians from several nations...It was unexpected...but God actually used me.
I've met some incredible people who in a few days are unveiling huge things in my life and possibly in my future...
And today, I met the President of the Arab Saharan Democratic Republic...We had lunch at his residence!
Like I said...surreal.
And it's only just the beginning!!
My prayer/prayer request...that we would continue to receive guidance and annointing from the Spirit, and that God would give me the faith to step into the role he has given me to play...
Sunday, November 8, 2009
Saturday, November 7, 2009
Crazy week ahead!!
People are arriving, literally from around the world, to spend a week in the camps with our team. We are hosting the annual religious dialogues, which were birthed several years ago as a way for Muslim Imams and Christian leaders to meet, discuss their beliefs, and build understanding and trust. It has been incredibly blessed in the past four years, and has become a very important event for many religious and political leaders in this region of North Africa. I’m so excited to see what God is going to do! Building understanding between Islam and Christ followers has never been so important…a glance at the news headlines make this gravely clear…
At the end of the week, we are also hosting a women’s seminar. This has also become a huge event in the refugee camp—I will write more later!
At the end of the week, we are also hosting a women’s seminar. This has also become a huge event in the refugee camp—I will write more later!
Wednesday, November 4, 2009
Me: "There's a mouse in the cabinet!!!!"
Cheryl: "Yeah, he lives there."
.....................................................
Anyway, I got some new antibiotics yesterday, and, praise the Lord, I am starting to feel human again. My fever is gone and I am starting to be able to eat normally.
Next goal: gain 10 pounds.
Cheryl: "Yeah, he lives there."
.....................................................
Anyway, I got some new antibiotics yesterday, and, praise the Lord, I am starting to feel human again. My fever is gone and I am starting to be able to eat normally.
Next goal: gain 10 pounds.
Monday, November 2, 2009
Warning: Rant Ahead.
Thank you all for your encouraging emails and prayers...I am doing better physically, although my stomach is still not back to normal...it's still hard to eat. I've definitely been "slimming down"...but hopefully I can make up for it soon.
I wrote last time about the difficulties here. But I must balance that post with this one, and say: I am not really suffering physically that much at all. Yes, I'm not really enjoying the illness, but I am not in any real danger--I am just more uncomfortable than I'm used to.
But the reality is this: I am an American. I'm getting out of here in two months. I have insurance. I have vaccines to protect me from the worst diseases, and, as a foreigner, I would be rushed to the front of the line in the hospital if needed. I can't escape privilege, even here.
And I have come to realize that I don’t feel like I’m lacking anything here. Yes, I crave grilled cheese and fresh salads (and diet Coke…). Yes, the internet I had at home worked more often than not and was certainly a lot faster. Yes, sinks and faucets are simpler to use than a hose in the sand.
However, the overwhelming impression I have gained in these last six weeks has not been how unbearable the living conditions are here, but rather how undeniably excessive our American “standard of living” is. I’ve always been frustrated with the consumer mentality in the USA—even to the point of haughty cynicism.
But this is a new insight. Before, I criticized our culture of entitlement—a system where the desires of a few take precedent over the very survival of many. Now, I’m living among the poor—not the poorest of the poor, but those who are just barely having their needs met. And you know what? It’s NOT that hard. And, if you ask them, many would tell you they don't consider themselves poor at all. One of my students, who lives on UN food rations, told me the other day, "I thank God, because I have everything I need."
People have made comments to other members of my team, saying things like, “I could never do that (come and live in Africa).”
You know what? We all can do something like this. No one should be unable to live in humble conditions, eating simple meals and experiencing what these people have endured for 35 years. Just because we have comfort and luxury doesn’t mean we are somehow incapable of enduring less. Just because we don’t HAVE to suffer doesn’t mean we should give ourselves license to believe that we CAN’T. In fact, maybe God is calling more of us to renounce the possessions we have dubbed as "blessings"...
My last post I spoke of the way I’ve struggled this past week. It comes with the territory, and yes, I was very sick. HOWEVER, I failed to mention that the small refugee hospital has also been flooded with Saharawi patients this past month, as food poisoning and other illnesses have spread rapidly. I am just one of them. Before coming here, it was a lot more comfortable to be ill (movies, saltine crackers, gatorade, Nyquil...)—but it is no greater tragedy for me to fall ill than it is for any one of my neighbors to be sick.
Americans are not that fragile--there is no genetic difference between "us" and "them", and we must give up our double standards...Either, it's okay for an American to go hungry and without good healthcare, or it's NOT okay for ANYONE to do so. Let's make up our minds.
(Disclaimer: this is not actually directed at any of you. . . This is just an insight into the aforementioned cynicism I'm afraid I fall pray to. I believe that much of what I said, though, has merit. Please excuse any pride and anger that (likely) may have motivated this outburst.)
I wrote last time about the difficulties here. But I must balance that post with this one, and say: I am not really suffering physically that much at all. Yes, I'm not really enjoying the illness, but I am not in any real danger--I am just more uncomfortable than I'm used to.
But the reality is this: I am an American. I'm getting out of here in two months. I have insurance. I have vaccines to protect me from the worst diseases, and, as a foreigner, I would be rushed to the front of the line in the hospital if needed. I can't escape privilege, even here.
And I have come to realize that I don’t feel like I’m lacking anything here. Yes, I crave grilled cheese and fresh salads (and diet Coke…). Yes, the internet I had at home worked more often than not and was certainly a lot faster. Yes, sinks and faucets are simpler to use than a hose in the sand.
However, the overwhelming impression I have gained in these last six weeks has not been how unbearable the living conditions are here, but rather how undeniably excessive our American “standard of living” is. I’ve always been frustrated with the consumer mentality in the USA—even to the point of haughty cynicism.
But this is a new insight. Before, I criticized our culture of entitlement—a system where the desires of a few take precedent over the very survival of many. Now, I’m living among the poor—not the poorest of the poor, but those who are just barely having their needs met. And you know what? It’s NOT that hard. And, if you ask them, many would tell you they don't consider themselves poor at all. One of my students, who lives on UN food rations, told me the other day, "I thank God, because I have everything I need."
People have made comments to other members of my team, saying things like, “I could never do that (come and live in Africa).”
You know what? We all can do something like this. No one should be unable to live in humble conditions, eating simple meals and experiencing what these people have endured for 35 years. Just because we have comfort and luxury doesn’t mean we are somehow incapable of enduring less. Just because we don’t HAVE to suffer doesn’t mean we should give ourselves license to believe that we CAN’T. In fact, maybe God is calling more of us to renounce the possessions we have dubbed as "blessings"...
My last post I spoke of the way I’ve struggled this past week. It comes with the territory, and yes, I was very sick. HOWEVER, I failed to mention that the small refugee hospital has also been flooded with Saharawi patients this past month, as food poisoning and other illnesses have spread rapidly. I am just one of them. Before coming here, it was a lot more comfortable to be ill (movies, saltine crackers, gatorade, Nyquil...)—but it is no greater tragedy for me to fall ill than it is for any one of my neighbors to be sick.
Americans are not that fragile--there is no genetic difference between "us" and "them", and we must give up our double standards...Either, it's okay for an American to go hungry and without good healthcare, or it's NOT okay for ANYONE to do so. Let's make up our minds.
(Disclaimer: this is not actually directed at any of you. . . This is just an insight into the aforementioned cynicism I'm afraid I fall pray to. I believe that much of what I said, though, has merit. Please excuse any pride and anger that (likely) may have motivated this outburst.)
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