entrepreneurs and beggars...

There are two different types of people that make walking frustrating many days. Some are entrepreneurs. I have more respect for these people. They are selling things. The most common things are “soft” (Kleenex packets), ink pens, sunglasses, movies, music, and, gum. It also isn’t uncommon to see socks and belts on the same guys with sunglasses.

The other people are beggars. These people offer you nothing. Well that isn’t always true sometimes the children offer a song (Usually “This is the day.” The language changes.), and they may also offer you a “Mother, Father dead. I love you.” Some beggars have no choice. They are homeless children or young mothers or they are old men or women. They beg because they have no option for work.

Now don’t hear me making fun of either of these groups. I respect the sellers desire to at least do something for money, and the beggars break my heart for the most part.

One of the most frustrating parts is they look like lions on the prowl. I imagine that on a long day the lion doesn’t want to grab the biggest prey which will put up the greatest fight. He/she just wants a bite to eat. So the lion watches for a weak dinner to pass by. When it sees it, it pounces. Americans are viewed in a similar manner…rich suckers. I watch as I pass a mother and she sends her baby to chase the white guy. I see sellers cross a busy street risking life and limb to catch the white guy walking on the other side. It can be so frustrating. Sometimes I ask them why they came to me out of all these people. They rarely answer.

Many days you get repeats. I see some beggars almost daily. I’ve adopted two. There is an old lady on a side of town I go to some who has a small child with her. I give small change or a birr to them. There is an old man who begs down the street where I often catch taxis. Every few days he returns to me. Most days he leaves me alone, because he knows when I can I’ll give him a bit.

Today I had a repeat child. The child usually works a busy intersection selling “soft.” The child is about eight or ten (guessing) with a shaved head. When you look into the child’s face there is usually a slight runny nose and slightly crossed eyes. Today was the first day I realized the child was a girl, and it was only an assumption based on the fact the child had on a dress.

I passed her and an older boy today on the way to a taxi. The older boy sent her back towards me. She walked with me about a block trying to sell me her “soft.” I told her I didn’t want any and she continued to convince me I needed some. The package must have been dirty. She cleaned it…both sides. She pulled it up to her face licked the package and then dried it on the chest of her dress.

I got in the taxi and she continued working to convince me. Four other children joined her…these were just beggars. What to do here is hard. Nationals would tell me to shut the door on them and ignore them. I usually let them continue as long as they will because it doesn’t really hurt me any. Sometimes they get violent with them if I allow them to stay. A couple days ago I watched a man hit a girl and another kick her as she was hanging on a taxi asking me for money.

Many here give to beggars. They know how to tell a thief from one in need. When they aren’t going to give…they ignore them. They stare away as if the person isn’t really a person. It breaks my heart, but there must be some purpose in it. Maybe I’ll learn.

A Day Finding a Park...

Yesterday was a great adventure. It was a coworker’s birthday. She is here short term and still misses home sometimes so we wanted to make sure her birthday was incredible.

We decided to drive out to a national forest. (Didn’t do the mountain thing I mentioned.) We didn’t exactly know where the place was. We just started out in the direction we had been told to go. We had been told it was just before a certain road, but when we didn’t see it there we kept going. Eventually we stopped to ask for help.

After about six times of asking for help we ended up on the right road. The directions never completely made sense, until we found the right place. Then what they had said fit together. The crazy thing is that if they didn’t know where we were trying to go, they would never have said, “I don’t know.” They would have made up something. I still believe some of them may have done that. They gave something so broad it couldn’t have been wrong. We were going to test this if we stopped once more. I was going to ask the way to Super Wal-Mart, just to see if we could get a response from them. We didn’t have to stop again so we never asked.

Come to find out the park was much farther out of town than we expected. We drove for quite a while down some pretty rough roads before finally arriving. It was so wonderful though. The countryside is much different than the city here. And you only have to get 20 minutes or so outside the city to see it. The scenery is beautiful. The people are beautiful and funny. They don’t see many cars down the dirt roads we were on. While we were still a ways off they would hear the engine. The children would come running to the road to ask for gifts.

Since they don’t have cars and never will, the road is a walkway to them. They walk down the middle caring water jugs or sticks. They heard their sheep, goats, cows, and/or donkeys right down the middle of the road. It is crazy.

Once we finally arrived the park was so peaceful. We found what was called a waterfall (disappointing) and took pictures and sat for a while. It was so relaxing, so refreshing. We had a great morning and early afternoon of just chilling far from the horns, and smog, and cell phone service.

I love these occasional days away.

We finished off her birthday with dinner at her favorite restaurant. It is Arabic. Everyone sits on the floor and gets food from communal plates. We had great fish and shish kabobs. She was also surprised with flowers and a cake. I think we were at least somewhat successful at making it a great day for her.

Okay lunchtime!

What a Beautiful Place...

Twice in the last month or so I have tried to write a particular entry. Continuously I have failed to be satisfied with what came out. It was sparked by a couple things. First was an email from a friend Tammy. She asked what I missed from home, later she clarified her intention. She wanted to be able to notice things she overlooked. A while later I got another email. Roz and I were bragging on one of my coworkers. I realized part of what makes her so incredible is that she is always attentive to the positive. So now I'll try the entry from a different direction.

---

One of my coworkers puts me to shame. She has a love for this people and this place that I have yet to completely take hold of. She has wonderful relationships with nationals. They love her...not just because she is white (a.k.a. rich), but because she offers them herself completely. She has a way of seeing the positive in the midst of so many other things. I notice the frustrations, the difficulties; she notices the potential, the beauty.

I have to be honest and say I live in a beautifully ugly city. I'm not sure what else to call it. It is amazing and beautiful; it is desperate and ugly. I am working harder to notice the beauty more than the ugliness.

This afternoon I rode a minibus from one side of the city to the other. I broke a cultural rule and opened the window. The truth is the guy next to me asked me to open it more than the crack I had put in it. When he left, I left it open. I rested my elbow on the frame and my chin on my elbow. I listened and watched and smelled the city.

The money collector on the taxi thought he was funny. He knew enough English to be obnoxious. I laughed with him as he tried to tease me.

We drove through the gigantic Merkato (not sure how to transliterate). It is blocks and blocks of stuff. There are people selling spices; baskets; metal; wood; you name it, it is probably there...somewhere. I quickly noticed a smell. It smelt like kitfo, a national food. It is ground beef in lots of butter...they eat it raw. I had just had it for lunch. I smelt my hands to make sure it wasn't me. Then I smelt the national spice. It is a very hot red spice that smells similar to chilis. Texans would love it!

Around the next corner was a man sitting in front of his metal shop. He was trying to encourage me to come visit. I just sat and smiled and said, "I don't want." Shortly after, we passed a guy driving a taxi car (contract taxi). He yelled something as we drove past and I smiled.

There was a fruit stand. It is a green tent, like army duffle bags. Hanging everywhere was bananas. Oranges and maybe mangos were stacked in high piles. A young girl sat behind the pile hoping to make a profit.

Then came one of the highlights. These taxis run a particular route. When they lose people they stop and wait to fill up again. We were nearly empty; only three of us were left. I made a friend. He was outside the taxi. He was only about three feet tall and probably five or six years old. He wore a bright yellow v-neck sweater with a white shirt underneath. His pants were dark.

He saw me and noticed I saw him. He waved; I waved back and smiled. He stopped looking at me and was playing with his face. He was squeezing his cheeks together pooching his lips out. When he looked by make direction I made the same face towards him...he laughed so hard the young man he was with looked to find me. Then an old man standing near looked to find me too.

My friend and I continued to make faces. We squeezed our cheeks; we dropped our jaw and opened our eyes wide as if we were shocked; we pulled at our ears; we squinted our eyes and pooched out our lips. For several minutes we copied one another. He laughed hysterically...I laughed with him.

The taxi filled; we waved goodbye. At the top of the next hill I saw a park I had never seen before. It was so pretty. How do I miss those things? Why do the beggars tend to stand out more than the beautiful children do? Why do the stinks stand out more than the wonderful odors? Why does the decrepit building stand out more than the blooms on the trees or the beautiful park?

I'm tired of missing out on the joys of this place. I see some of them; I miss many of them. Tomorrow morning I am heading to a mountaintop just outside the city. I want to go and watch and admire the beauty of the country I live in. The most beautiful thing...despite the occasional difficulties, are the wonderful people. They are so incredible!

---

Not sure you care. Saw an Olympian today or maybe two. There is a movie about this place that gives you great insight into the culture. It is about a guy who grew up in the countryside and eventually became a gold medalist. I was working out today (three times this week...yuck) at the gym he owns. He was there talking to friends. I think another lady may have been an Olympic runner too. I know she was putting this fat white guy to shame. It was kind of neat. (The Olympians, not getting up to shame on the treadmill.)

Update...

Thank you for lifting up my friends Ben and Candi. They have returned from South Africa and he is doing well. I believe I shared that he had two stints put in to two vessels with 90% blockage. He spent time recovering there and now they are back here with friends and family.

Yesterday they headed back out to their home in the countryside.

I wanted you to know all is well.

A Visitor...

Wednesday was a holiday. I'm not sure what kind of holiday. They have lots of them here so sometimes it is hard to keep them all straight. Since it was a holiday I took a day off of language. It was a good day. I did a whole lot of nothing and I need those days once in a while.

I was watching a movie when someone knocked at the door. Who in the world is that I wondered? I went and changed out of my pajama pants so it didn't look like I had been sitting around all day.

A friend had come to visit me. He is in seventh grade. He doesn't speak much English; and as you know I don't speak much of his language.

I'm still not sure why he came. I know his family. I had lunch in his mothers house last week. This kid knows some of my coworkers better than he does me, but on this day he came to see me. I was shocked when I opened the door...I really didn't expect him. We stood and stared at each other for a few seconds. "What are you doing," I asked? "Nothing." "How are you?" "Good." (This exchange was in his language.) Still not sure what he was wanting I said, "Do you want to come in." "Yes!"

He walked in an immediately kicked off his shoes in the entryway. We went and sat on the couch together. We talked for a while in his language about what he was doing and school and his family. He misses my supervisors a lot and cant wait for them to return.

After talking for a while he asked if I had a movie. We finished Remember the Titans together. I don't think he liked it much. After it was over he asked for some water. I got him a glass and some water. He had a second glass. Then he offered to wash my dishes. They love to serve their friends here. I wouldn't let him though.

I told him I had to go I had another program. He said okay and moved towards the door. He looked at me after putting on his shoes. He said, "Taxi, give me money." How weird an interchange would this have been in the states? It was weird to me too, but becoming more normal. Besides it cost me about 12 cents to help him get home.

You never know what a day will hold here.

Shucks!

The bread was green!!

An Afternoon Helping a Friend Accomplish Nothing...

I spent the afternoon with A. (I have shared about him with some of you before. I'm not gonna use his name here.) He has his own business. He and his employees collect trash. Last Friday I was supposed to meet with him and T. (This is another friend most of you have heard of.) A. called to cancel. He said he had a problem with his business. Today he shared with me what it was.

First let me tell you why we were together and how the day went...it was so extremely typical. He called me because he had found a computer he wanted to buy. The problem was he didn't know what all they were telling him about it. I ended up with a second job once I got here; I do lots of computer work for friends and coworkers. I was to meet A. at 3.

I called at 3 to tell him I was running late but would be there shortly. When I got the meeting place, I couldn't find him. I called, and called, and called. Bad mobile week, none of them are working right. Finally I got him and found out he was down the road in an internet café. I met him there and when he finished we left and started down the road.

As we were walking he filled me in on the business stuff (be patient it's coming). We got down the road and he looked in a café and said, "We can get something to drink." They always tend to offer it as an option rather than saying, "hey I'm thirsty you want a drink." We hung out there for several minutes and chatted about the business (hold on) and the computers. Come to find out he has two options and wants me to check them out. One is near us and the other is in another part of the city and when that guy calls we will go see it.

We finish the drinks and leave for the first computer...the opposite direction we have been walking. For some reason I still don't understand we went the wrong way quite a ways and stopped to have a drink. Then we turned and went back the right way. When we got there I thought we were lost. We walked down this little alleyway to the back of a building. We climbed some stairs too skinny for fat guys and went in a little room. There was a business hidden back there, I asked how he ever found it. All I got in response was, "a friend."

We walked in to find the waiting room girl. I guess that was her job, she didn't do much else. The man we needed to see wasn't there. We waited. After about thirty minutes we got up and left. (The whole time I was singing a song stuck in my head. A few problems: 1. It is in their language. 2. I only knew two words. Actually I only remembered two words and I only knew what one of them meant. After asking I found out I was singing, "the girl is beautiful." 3. Many believers here believe secular music keeps one from the kingdom. Bad translation coming in Galatians. (I think I've mentioned this before.)) A. said the guy would call later when he got back.

Remember we are also still waiting on the other guy to call. Now it is almost 5. In two hours we have accomplished nothing we wanted to get done. While waiting for the calls we went for macchiatos. At 5:30 he told me he had to go to another meeting. Therefore we spent 2 hours getting nothing done. We'll try again tomorrow or the next day. This is exactly how this culture goes.

The good thing is, I got to spend great time with a friend I haven't seen in a couple weeks. It sure made it worth it for me.

Now about his work (You thought I forgot, didn't you?). Seems the government has decided to fight unemployment and poverty here. Great idea, since some 12-13 million live in starvation and I've heard unemployment is at around 70%.

Here is what they want to do. They have heard about A's. job and have decided it is a great thing for unemployed to get into. It takes little training and/or education. They gathered together the 60 people or so that have this type of business. They told them they are going to split their business into twelve parts. The current owner gets 1/12 of the business. The other 11/12 is going to be split and worked by these people who are without jobs.

In other words they want to steal almost all of A's. business for the sake of providing jobs. The owners are fighting to protect their business and are encouraging the government to start similar businesses if they want. They are okay with the competition, and they want to see jobs offered; they just don't want to lose their own livelihood.

There are elections in May. In A's. opinion, this is a ploy for votes. They are claiming 10,000 need work; that adds up to a lot of votes.

They think they have nearly solved the problem, but it isn't over yet. Lift him and his family and their business up if you don't mind.

It's almost 9. I gotta go eat. As long as the bread isn't green yet it will be another pb&j night.

The Week in Review...

It has been a good week. I haven't been able to sleep and I have done tons of language but it has been good. Here are some highlights.

Saturday - Played basketball with some international friends. What the heck was I thinking? I live at 8,000 feet or so. I haven't exercised since coming here. (My body hated me for several days!)

Sunday - 1. Ate lunch at a national friend's house. She asked the others who were there, "what happened to Chad, he lost his body?" That meant I had lost some weight...she was quite disappointed. 2. Had house church with coworkers.

Monday - Lots of language. Got called one of the three fat guys in the back of the taxi. Guess I haven't lost that much after all.

Tuesday - Lots of language. Got called a liar by a taxi cab driver. Based on my language ability he didn't believe I had only been here 5 months. (Very encouraging!) Then he asked me if I wanted to have sex with a national woman...I politely refused the offer.

Wednesday - Lots of language. Blew up my sound card on my computer just as I was beginning to watch "On Golden Pond." (Great flick! The old people cuss a lot though.)

Thursday - Lots of language. Dell informed me that I was misinformed regarding computer repairs in this country...not an option. Went out to dinner alone and finished a good book.

Friday - Lots of language. 1. Got up early and ran a bit...very little bit. What am I doing to my body? 2. Bought a chicken. 3. Went to buy a map and look for resources for mapping project. 4. Saw "The Four Feathers" with friends.

Saturday - Today was a great day. 1. I took three teenagers out for the day. We drove to a small town about an hour outside the city. We ate lunch out, then went, and rode go-carts for a while. Been a long time since I have done that. It was a great get away. On the way home we stopped for milkshakes. 2. I went and played basketball again...I think I am getting dumber. 3. My sound card started working. (Not sure how or why, somebody must have been interceding on behalf of my computer.)

Personal Stuff...

Three or four times this week I have been sent on a journey of introspection. It has been difficult; I haven't come through with much insight yet.

This post is going to be very different than most. For the most part I want to be sharing the stories of others with you guys. I want you to remember friends who are growing or struggling. I want you to remember our efforts to work with them. I want them to be the focus of all that you lift up. Today I need something a bit different.

This week of seeking has been tough. I'm not doing well and I haven't learned much. I am not asking you to worry. Worry only makes my problems and your problems worse. I am just asking you to intercede on my behalf.

I am not sure what the funk I have entered into is. I have some guesses and I am trying to work through those things. I have lost the ability to sleep well. Some of you know I don't usually sleep well, but it has gotten worse than normal. I struggle with loneliness and lack of effectiveness. I have grown distant from probably every relationship I have including that with God and with myself.

The last month and a half has been very busy and I think it has contributed to the funk. We have sent one family to another country to work; we have sent one family for medical reasons; we have received four long-term volunteers; a family came back from the states; my language program has grown even more demanding, and I don't feel like I am making much progress, just to name a few things.

The funk isn't stress though. When I am stressed my tics go crazy.

I ask that you continue to do what you have been so faithful in. Lift up all that is happening here. But for this time especially lift up me. Ask that I will begin to see some clarity in this haze. Ask that I will continue to be passionate about what I am doing and what it will allow me to do in the future. Ask that people will come into my life that will offer me multiple kinds of community (I need play friends; I need friends that challenge me spiritually, etc.).

Thank you! Again I beg you, don't begin to worry. I am doing fine. I am surviving and persevering in these struggles, in language, in relationships. I don't ask for your worries I ask for your prayers. I ask that you pray with faith that God is the great provider. If our prayers could move mountains with such a small amount of faith, imagine what they have the ability to do for a friend in a funk.

Five Boys and a Soccer Ball...

According to the counter, many of you are still showing up quite often. Thank you for caring what is happening to me over here. Again I apologize for being gone from writing for so long. The last couple weeks have been crazy.

As the last three posts mention my coworker Ben had a heart attack. Two vessels were 90% blocked. They added two stints and new medicine. He is in South Africa resting and testing the medicine. February 24^th he will have another appointment and at that time know when he can return here.

They live about 2 hours into the countryside. They have three young ladies here working with them for a few months. We have had to move them into the city while Ben and Candi are away. It has taken a lot of time to help get them settled and in a routine here.

I have changed my language program. If you knew anything about me in my education days you know I hate to study. A roommate my sophomore year tried to tell people he never saw me study the year he lived with me. And while that isn't completely true it is sure more true than if he tried to say all I ever did was study. But I survived. Now I am here and again it is tough trying to put in the required hours of study. Therefore I now meet with my helpers everyday. I meet two hours in the morning to learn new stuff and two hours in the afternoon to practice. It is exhausting but will be of great help in my learning.

I told one of my helpers today about the difference between when I love the language and when I hate it. Let me tell the story that led to my telling him this.

He and I spent a couple hours this afternoon at the café I like so much (the one the boy eating dirt was at). On the way back I met five young boys playing on the street. They walked with us for nearly a mile and we talked the whole way. They wanted money...what else is new.

But often I like to play with them and I told them I wanted them to give me money. Of course they said they didn't have any. Then I saw some coins in one boy's hand, his name was Joseph. I told him I wanted him to give me his money. He refused. But one of the other boys, I forgot his name, came and held my hand as we began to walk away...the others followed closely.

We talked about their names and how old they were. I asked if they were brothers. The boy whose name I forgot said all five were brothers. I was clever enough to know their ages made that pretty unlikely. I questioned and Joseph told me that three were brothers and the other two were their friends.

Related tangent: I have realized many of my stories are about the struggles of this place. I share those because they are real and they are forever poignant in ones memory. But I live here because I love this place. I love that the people here have the most beautiful smiles on the face of the earth. I love that although one of my friends is poor as dirt he always begs to pay when we go out. I love that although the majority of people here have next to nothing they live with a sense of comfort and joy. I love that they love me...some because they see me as a source of money, many because they see me as a friend. I love the passion that they have for their country and their people. I love their bravery. They aren't ashamed to ask for what they want or need. I both love and hate that they have a passion for our creator and have ever so slightly missed the point of the gospel. I love that they enjoy trying English (even when they butcher it). I love that they have decided I look like some soccer player in Europe that I look nothing like but tons of people yell the name on the street as I walk by. I love chances like today to visit with five little boys. They love to hold your hand. It is probably one reason why I get the squirts but it is worth the risk to show I care for them. (Let me go wash my hands...I'll be back.)

I have two great desires for my time here. I desire that we can come to a better understanding of the best way to present the good news to these people. I want to see the answers we find put into action and work. I also desire more than I can tell you that you come visit this place. It changes your life. It changes your world. It changes their world. I can't tell you how badly I want you to meet the people here, the girls that work at a favorite cafe, and my friends at the supermarket. I dream of the chance you'll have to talk with so many different friends. Consider it! Ask the Father what he would have you do and be faithful to it. Know from my end that the invitation is always open.

So the five boys started telling me that they wanted to buy a ball. I asked them what it cost and where they wanted to buy it. They told me the price and where a souk was. I began to tease them about how their one birr wasn't going to do the trick. Then I told them that only one of them had one birr anyway, what could the others offer.

They pulled me along with them into the souk and asked the two ladies behind the counter if they had a ball. One pulled it down but clearly the other was the boss. The longer I am here the more I understand you almost never pay the asking price. I talked them down to 16, but the boss lady wasn't willing to break far from the original price. I told the boys I would pay 15 if they would give me the other one to pay the last part. Together we bought them a soccer ball. My guess is they are out in barren field or the street somewhere kicking around a rubber soccer ball. They won't remember in a week that the white guy whose hands they held bought it for them, but they'll have a blast and I'll remember them. More importantly so will my Dad.

In the five or ten minutes I walked and talked with these boys I loved their language. In the four hours I studied it I hated it. Chances like these make long hours of flipping cards and memorizing sentences well worth the effort though.

Ben...

Ben is resting in South Africa. After performing tests today the doctors placed two stints in two different vessels that were 90% blocked. According to the doctors he is lucky to have survived. Thank you for continuing to go to the throne on behalf of him and his family.

Part II...

Late last night Ben and Candi were airlifted to South Africa. He has been doing well but they have been unable to get his chest pain to subside. Their two kids are staying here with friends. Continue to remember all of them as they deal with these struggles.

SPECIAL REQUEST...

A coworker was rushed to the hospital today. He and his family live about two hours outside the city. They are the family I have mentioned visiting before. My friend was struggling with chest pains.

He has since been brought by ambulance here to the capital city. The truth is the medical facilities aren't much to write home about. Remember he and his family over the next few hours and days as we find out what the problem is.

"The Poor Will Always be With You..."

I don't give out much money here. One could easily go broke and not even have begun to address the problem that exists. Another issue is trying to figure out what the problem is. I'm not sure the problem is money. Of course they have very little but there are problems much bigger than that. In the light of the little they have they are still a people full of life and joy. It is quite amazing. They have nothing yet they share all they have with their family and friends.

Today however my heart was broken. One of my favorite spots in town is a little café called Café Chocolata. It was started by an organization to help get prostitutes of the streets and give them a job. I like it cause it is close the house, good food, and super cheap.

Some days I get the chance to eat out front on the porch. It is a great place to watch the traffic and the people and they pass by. It is also a heavy begging spot though. Many come right up to the little black wrought iron fence that surrounds the porch and begin to ask for money. They have perfected the puppy dog look. Their eyes, their smile, the slight lean of their head all makes you feel like the dirt under their feet because you aren't willing to give them money. I haven't figured out how to say "no"...all they teach me is "I don't have any." Well imagine that slap in the face. A young mother, probably 30, has one baby strapped to her back with a three-year-old child at her feet. Both are asking for money or even bread. My response is "I don't have any." (I am sitting at a café, sipping on coffee or tea, eating a cinnamon roll or croissant saying, "I don't have any.")

A fear I have is what is called "rice bowl believers." The concept claims that anyone will commit to "the way" if you make food or some other need the reward. My friend I mentioned in the last update (I'll call him T.) shared with me yesterday that the minimum wage has been raised. To be honest I didn't know they had one. It has been raised to 200 something a month. That works out to about $25 USD per month. Why wouldn't they choose "the way" for some extra money or bread; I would in the same situation?

Lots of tangents in here, but back to the story. Today at Chocolata I heard two boys repeatedly saying "hello." I had seen out of the corner of my eye that they were about 20 feet away to my left. They were sitting on a stump beside a big ditch. I ignored them - not just because I am a jerk, but because I have learned that this is the response of nationals if they are not going to give anything.

The two got louder; I could tell they had cut their distance in half. I turned to acknowledge them and responded with my pat answer, "Yellum (I don't have any.)." They smiled at me and I could tell the one on the left was chewing on something red. He was a beautiful little boy with a big smile and bright eyes. His clothes were some shade of brown as is typical. I don't know if they start that way or turn that way over time. His shorts (only beggars wear shorts, usually) were torn and shredded at the edges. His shirt was ragged and clearly would continue to fit for a few more years. His friend didn't look much different. He might have been a year or two older and although he too had a beautiful smile it didn't compare to the one snacking on something.

I turned to my friend I was studying with and asked what he was chewing on. He looked his way and couldn't tell so he asked him. I caught the words "what" and "why" - I'm improving but slowly. I asked what it was. The boy was eating clods of dirt. When asked why his only response was because he had nothing else.

I don't know how to respond to this. I am back in my comfortable apartment typing away on my computer about to make some pb&j. This little eight or ten year old boy is sitting on the street a mile or so away eating dirt.

I did nothing mighty; my response was quite pitiful. I bought a couple croissants and handed them through the fence.

On the way home I was approached by six more people asking for money and bread. I shook my head no and smiled at them. I wonder if they read my smile as mocking. I pray they don't. I want to show them I care but I can't help them all. I hope they pass by blessed by the smile rather than spitting on the ground I walked on as I passed them by.

Just before reaching home, a mother passed with two or three kids. I noticed one specifically. She chased after me hands out, palm up. She was 3 or 4 maybe. Her hair was curly and her smile was infectious. She wore a dress that had faded. It likely began as some shade of brown or orange. I asked my friend what she was saying. As she pursued me less than a block from my house, she repeatedly said, "Daddy, Daddy."

I prayed to her father and I asked that he would give her lunch and a place to sleep tonight. I asked that he would continue to prick my heart so that I would hurt for those in need that surround me. I asked that he would remind me I am just as desperate and in need of his love. I asked that he would come to this young family and begin to meet their need for love and security. I asked that the day would come that I see her again. That day might be in this life or perhaps the one that continues but I pray we meet again as siblings following the same father.

Thanks for praying with me.

"When You Gotta Go..."

**WARNING: THIS STORY IS TRUE AND A BIT GRAPHIC, BUT IT SURE WAS FUNNY. JUST KNOW YOU WERE WARNED AND I DON'T MAKE YOU READ THESE THINGS!**

This country is hard on the intestines. I've shared that before. The truth is stomach problems are something I experienced in the states on more frequent than preferred occasions too. A big difference was I could be a bit choosier about where to take care of business in the states.

Most of the time here I have been pretty choosy. On sick days I stay home close to the comforts of my own baby blue porcelain throne and a good book. Yesterday, there was no choosing and there was definitely no waiting on better facilities. Many public bathrooms in the states are just gross...they smell bad, they dont flush, the five guys before you missed the whole and drenched the seat and the floor below. Not a pleasant picture. (Let me say that if this story is beginning as offensive to you: first I apologize, second I say you just go in those toilets at the local 7/11.)

Here it is a bit different. First, never ever go anywhere with out your own supply of paper. Small Kleenex packages are available about everywhere. There is no guarantee that even the nicest bathrooms will have paper. Also beware, only on occasion will you be lucky enough to find a toilet with a seat. And seat or no seat it will stink.

Now when I say no seat I don't mean that the part that we put up and down depending on the business to be done will be missing. I mean there is no seat! There is nothing to sit on. We lovingly refer the type of toilets used here as "squatty potties." Let me be honest with you. My knees can't handle squatting long when I'm not going to the bathroom. But yesterday, there was no option.

I'm squatted down over this porcelain hole in the ground with two places to put my feet. I got my pants around my ankles terrified I'm gonna leave what I gotta leave on my khaki's instead of in the hole. I'm also scared my legs are gonna give out and I'm gonna be sitting in the hole (trust me that would not be good at all). And to make matters worse my friend is finishing his lunch while I'm "experiencing culture," and it just plain stinks in there.

My friend gets worried and decides to call my mobile phone. Why do people do that? They do it in the states too. Who in the world is gonna answer their phone if they are in a public toilet not feeling well? The only possible way one might answer is if their stuck and then probably not...imagine the embarrassment. Not to mention if I needed help in the toilet, I'd call them.

So after wading through the difficulties and holding myself up with the wall behind me, I got business taken care of. I'd be all right if I don't have to use one of those again. The truth is I will. They are the most common here. And really it wasn't quite the nightmare I expected.

Excluding this event yesterday was all in all a great day. I'll tell more soon.

A Holy Day...

Yesterday was a huge holiday here. It is called Timkit. They are celebrating the baptism of Jesus. We went to this huge field which is one of the primary places of celebration. There were tons of people there.

The event actually lasts about 24 hours. On Tuesday they took all of the arks out of the churches and paraded them to the nearest water source. For some this is quite a journey. They camp there overnight and wait for the next morning. On Wednesday the priest blesses the water, be it a creek or a pond, or wherever they are. At this point people go crazy to get to the water. Their belief is that this cleanses them of their sins.

I'm not sure what the source was, but where we were they were using everyday water hoses. They were spraying them in the air onto people who wanted desperately to get hit by the water. It made me think of being a kid. We loved to play water games. We had a basic yard sprinkler that just went back and forth. But for hours we could play in the water. These men and women fought to get wet just as we fought to get near the water. But to them this is religious tradition.

There is such confusion. The patriarch (like the pope) of their church spoke. He was educated in the states and speaks pretty clear English. He shared that this event was not re-baptizing but educating the people on what happened to Jesus. It made since and makes the event look more profitable. The problem is I don't think any of the people believe as he claimed. To them this day is huge...on this day they are forgiven for a years worth of sins. The water blessed by the priest saves them...they've lost sight of the blood of the lamb.

It was a good celebration. Great time with friends. And a huge window into the religious culture here.

Possible Need Met...

In the recent update letter I mentioned a need for a digitized map of the city. The truth is many of the people that I work with didn't think one existed and if it did they didn't think we would ever get it. Well I have a new friend who told me I may be able to have it in a few days, but it might cost me...about $1.50. I told him that was "NO PROBLEM!"

Continue to lift this possibility up. This is a huge step in our efforts to map out the city.

A New Friend...

One night at the conference I met a new friend. His name is Caleb; he is seven. As we were singing together, I kept noticing he was watching me. It actually made me quite jealous of his dad that he was standing beside and hugging on. (I am ready to be singing to our Father with my son!)

After the service ended Caleb and I were sort of watching one another. He came over and said, "Whats your name?" I said, "My name is Chad. Come and tell me what your name is." He introduced himself and came and sat next to me. We talked for twenty minutes or so about a little bit of everything. He had a great laugh. He would tell a story about himself or his brothers and he would just laugh his head off. Eventually someone came and found him to tell him his parents were worried because they didnt know where he was.

Caleb and his parents are an inspiration to me. What I didn't tell him is that I knew who he was. We had actually met once although I only vaguely remember him and he clearly didn't remember me at all.

Just over two years ago Calebs dad was shot. He was working in a hospital in a Middle Eastern country. A man came in and killed three people; he also shot Caleb's dad. They spent some time back in the states recouping and then they returned to the country they had been in. To this day they live there. I met them the day they returned. I will never forget the words that Caleb's mom spoke. She was honest in sharing that she was scared to be there and some days all she would want to do is take her little boys home. But she continued and said that she was called to be in that country with those people and although it might be hard at times she was going to follow through with that call.

I'm not sure I'm that committed. Sure I live here now. But I'm single; I've never been attacked for what I believe; I don't have to be as concerned about protecting others as I am myself.

The night before I met Caleb I heard a recorded sermon. A black pastor tries to explain who God is. It is called My King. I had heard the sermon once before. I was at Covenant College on top of Lookout Mountain in Georgia. A young man recited the 5 or 6 minute sermon, complete with mimicking the pastor's voice. That night it became clear that I was called to spend my life serving. I never anticipated that call would include a stay here. At that point I had no idea what all answering yes would entail. I still don't know. My hope is that I am as faithful as Caleb and his parents. I hope that I love my Father that much. I hope that I trust him that much.

My Travels...

I got back home Tuesday at about 4am. I returned from spending two weeks traveling outside of Africa. I went to Turkey. The country claims to be 98% Muslim; they are also very proud of the fact that they are a "secular country." It works out to be perhaps 25% - 30% are actually practicing Muslims.

We had a great visit. We got to see lots of cool places. In Istanbul we stayed inside the walls of the old city. We saw St. Sophia - a super old church that then became a mosque that is now a museum with aspects that represent Christian faith and others that are Muslim. We roamed all over the place and got to meet lots of interesting people.

It was quite different from being here. Poverty is still an issue there as I understand it, but it looks very different from the poverty that is here. The country is much more commercial and modern. I ate at TGI Fridays, Starbucks, Burger King, Arbys. (Wow those were good!) New Years Eve we had Burger King and then went into this place that was similar to a Super Wal-Mart. It was overwhelming. I had forgotten what it was like to be in a store with that much stuff.

The highlight of touring was visiting the 7 churches mentioned in the beginning of Revelation. Ephesus and Laodicea were my favorites as they are the most restored. Earthquakes have destroyed all of the cities we visited. It is hard to believe that these places were significant enough that they were being written to in scripture. Now they just look like a bunch of rocks...old rocks. It was really neat to visit them though.

After the tours I spent a week at a conference (this is really why I was traveling). All of the people that work in our region joined together for fellowship, refreshing, and training. It was good to spend time with coworkers especially my supervisors that I hadn't seen in a year and a half. They are still in the states until March, but it was good to spend time with them there. I have a better grasp now on what my work will look like over the next years.

It was a good trip but exhausting. By the time it was over I was ready to be home. Now it is time to jump back into the swing of things here.

Back @ Home...

I am back in Africa safe and sound. More coming soon I promise! Sorry for the brief hiatus.