Blog: You Are Not Alone (January 23, 2011)

I can think back to many things I’ve said in the past, things I’ve claimed I would never, ever do. Now, all I can say to that is never say never. I’ve told a few that I’d never live alone—IF I could help it. And I guess I can’t really help it in this case. Kim and Kat left Lassin 2.5 weeks ago. I really think I thought they would never really go. But they’re definitely no longer here. I couldn’t help but think thoughts like “I’m the only one left now. What’s gonna happen to me now?” I also thought things like “whatever happens, God’ll get me through it. Everything else can change, but He will never, ever, ever change. He’s everlasting.” So I’ve been living (more like camping actually haha) “alone” for almost 3 weeks now. And you know, I think I am really enjoying it! I was telling my parents that it has been so, so long since I’ve had some alone time for my little introverted mind. In the past 20 weeks, I’ve usually had to go to the toilet, my room (although I did share my room the first month or so), or out for a walk if I wanted to be alone. Now, though, I have a little more control. Instead of just my room and the bathroom, I can also enjoy quiet time in my kitchen, living room, and one of the 2 guest rooms! I typically try and avoid the kitchen and the guestrooms, though, because of the spider infestation. I think I’m housing a few cousins of the black widow. Each time I enter my house when it’s dark out, I do a very thorough inspection. I’m careful to tear down any spider webs in my path with the broom (opposed to using my body) on my way to turning on the light. Then I make my way over to my room and the bathroom. I’m completing this inspection faster and faster each night! I think I always do it with a smile on my face, too; I laugh at myself inside. I think about how funny I would look to my mom or dad or friends. Another thing I’m doing that I thought I’d never, ever do: enjoying the company of pests. Call me crazy. But I’m not. I really think of Fang, the giant spider in my room, Stuart, the cute little mouse who visits me from time to time, and Moose, the stuffed moose sent to me from America.. I really do think of them as blessings from God, as friends to keep me company in that huge house. I was thinking about these blessings the other day, and God just kept sending more. Market day two weeks ago was on Thursday (Jan. 13); I was trying to avoid the market for the second or third week ‘cause it really makes me miss Kim and Kat. I was just about to start carrying water from the tap when I met Carol coming from the market to her house. Mathias, one of my students and one of the sons of the “traditional doctor”, had followed her from the market. He is so cute. I’m sure he’s the smallest second grader—probably even smaller than many students in class one. Well, he quietly left Carol’s side and kept me company as I carried water. He helped me count the five buckets “we” carried from the tap to the house. I really loved his company. I sent him back to the market with a little bit of my Mambo bar (chocolate!). I really love the little visitors I get. They remind me that I am not alone. They remind me that heavenly angels are ever with me. They remind me that Jesus is with me always. So don’t you worry about me over here in Africa. I am not alone.

Blog: Sharing is Caring (Jan. 27, 2011)

Growing up as an only child was better than I’ll ever realize. I was (and am) more fortunate than I’ll ever know. Since coming to live and work in Cameroon, I have understood how blessed I really am just a little bit more.

As far as I can remember, I always, always, always wanted siblings. Maybe I didn’t voice that opinion much; but thinking back, I really, really wanted them. People tell me—Oh, Jess! If you’d had siblings, you’d have wished you were an only child. The grass does seem to be ever greener on the other side. One thing I believe siblings would have helped me with was my character. Yeah, that sounds pretty vague haha. More specifically, they would have helped me to share more. I haven’t had to share my things much with anyone—that goes for my room, my food, my mom, everything.

And now I’m in a place that is indescribably generous. They share everything. It’s amazing to me. And it is really difficult for a day to go by without me feeling at least a little bit guilty; most days I’m really embarrassed about my selfish mindset. What’s worse (it’s really not a bad thing… just when it comes to me and my conscience getting along) is that they share even more with me because I am a guest in their country! Almost every day, during long break, someone gives me something more to eat. Two days ago it was a papaya. Last semester, Naphtali (my assistant/translator) and his family (his 2 youngest kids attend the school and his wife works with Carol in class 1) would try to give me yams, fufu, groundnuts (peanuts), palm kernels, coconut, sugar cane, oranges, bananas… SO much! These are things that they brought for their own lunch.

Now Carol and I already bring a pretty a large lunch (comparably)—some sort of bread with peanut butter and/or honey, an orange, a banana, sometimes pineapple/papaya, and trail mix. I am ashamed to say that I rarely share my lunch. Occasionally, I’ll give a piece of pineapple or some raisins or something to someone. If you give to one, though, you may wind up splitting your lunch for one into… 75 or so pieces. Hmm. I’m learning. I’m learning that making sure you have enough to eat for yourself is not so important. Many of the kids don’t bring anything to eat for lunch. Just in the last few weeks, though, we started the Peanutty Protein Project (not really its name..). Some blessed Californian is paying for each child to have a handful of peanuts every school day. We’re hoping that this will help their bloated, nutrient deficient bodies even just a little. People here seem to be used to eating only 2 meals a day, and we’ve had a hard time figuring out where they get certain necessary nutrients (like protein, vitamin C, iodine, etc.).

But, yes, I am learning. The people here are so willing to give. For me to become like them—that just can’t happen overnight. Duh. But… maybe it will actually take more like… 8.5 months, in total. Maybe then there’s some hope for me. I’ve written before of how difficult it is to see change in myself. I mean, I am with me every single day. I won’t know how I’ve changed until the end of this. I hope then I can see that I’ve become more like the people here, that my heart has been growing bigger and bigger.

“… But whoever slaps you on your right cheek, turn the other to him also. It anyone wants to sue you and take away your tunic, let him have your cloak also. And whoever compels you to go one mile, go with him two. Give to him who asks you, and from him who wants to borrow from you do not turn away.” Matthew 5:39-42

“Do not withhold good from those to whom it is due, when it is in the power of your hand to do so. Do not say to your neighbor, ‘Go, and come back, and tomorrow I will give it,’ when you have it with you.” Proverbs 3:27, 28

An African Christmas, Part Two

After a slight delay we made our way to our dormitory style rooms there.
After two nights in this room, we moved to an apartment where we stayed 3
nights (until Christmas day). This facility was cheap, had hot water, and a
kitchen! Plus it was very safe. And they had internet, even wifi! [It was
during my time on the computer here that I learned of many, many engagements
amongst people I know; I was determined not to let it depress me haha. There
was no reason for me to be unhappy! I'm traveling the world, serving others
in the name of Christ! I'm doing exactly what I should be.] It was on the
other side of town, though, so we spent an unexpected amount on taxi fare.
The grand finale of our stay in Yaounde occurred on Christmas day, when we
moved in to the Hilton for the night. We were there at the hotel as soon as
we could check in, and didn't leave the place until the exact check-out
time. Yaounde was fun to explore, but it was also quite expensive-especially
everything with the word "Hilton" on it. Christmas night was also the night
I really started feelings malarial. Is that a word? Anyway, Saturday night I
felt really awful. Plus I was more homesick than I had been in a good while,
it being Christmas day spent without any family and all (though I did spent
quite a bit of time on the phone with family that day). Oh yeah! On
Christmas Eve we visited Yaounde's zoo. THAT was pretty awesome. They had
peacocks and monkeys roaming free around the facility, seven large, active
lions, some crocs, tortoises, and parrot-type birds. The monkeys and the
lions were my favorite. The zoo itself seemed pretty run down, but I was
able to see more and be closer to the animals than I would at any zoo I've
been to in America. Honestly, after Yaounde, I just felt like either going
back to Lassin or back to America. Our next stop was Kribi, one of Cameroon'
s "beach resort" towns. I guess I felt pretty miserable in Kribi, too. Yeah,
the beach was there, but we were kind of bored. Now that I think about it, I
wasn't bored. I was exhausted. Funny how I can get those mixed up. We only
stayed there 2 nights. By the time we left for Limbe, the last time I had
showered was Sunday, the morning we left the Hilton (best shower
ever-bathroom was complete with a hair dryer!). So I was pretty gross.
GROSS. Haha! On our way to Limbe, we had to go through Doula (my very first
glimpse of Cameroon). Anytime we go through Doula, we get to see our very
dear friend Charles Ichu. What a guy. He picked us up from the taxi park,
drove us to Moneygram/the bank/the bakery, and then we all started together
toward Limbe. I mentioned to Charles that I wasn't really feeling well, and
he insisted on taking me to the Adventist Hospital in Buea, a town right
next to Limbe. Unfortunately, we got there after their lab had already
closed for the day (the was Tuesday, Dec. 28 btw). Dr. Trixie, a Loma Linda
graduate, informed me of the possibilities and asked me to call her the next
day after I got tested for malaria. I either had malaria, a viral infection
(in my lungs? which was causing pleuritis), or a pulled back muscle from
doing a handstand. I didn't want to take malaria meds without knowing if I
actually had malaria or not. I did have a temperature of 102. So we headed
to Limbe, so grateful for Charles' company. After checking out a few hotels,
we finally chose one located inside a botanical garden and very close to a
bakery and ice cream shop. Finally, a shower! I hit the sack pretty quickly
after washing up. I was beat. You know, I think the time we spent in Limbe
evenly tied with our time in Yaounde, or maybe even beat it. Wednesday
morning, we had brunch at Chela's, a restaurant located inside Limbe
Wildlife Center. We could see the gorillas from our table! The lab techs
there also performed my rapid response malaria test without charge! Turns
out, yes, I had a moderate infection of malaria. Now I can say I really have
experienced Africa. or at least Cameroon. I was talking with the tech and
the "doctor" about my mission here in Cameroon. They said that they love to
hear about someone working for the Lord. They invited me to take some of
their brochures back to America and talk to some friends or family about
donating to their cause. I promised them I would. We headed to the pharmacy
where I bought some Courtem (great stuff!), then to the room, and then to
Hotel Seme Beach! For 3 bucks, we hung out at the chocolate beaches of Limbe
and never found out about the drink that the fare included. I had a good
time but not as good a time as Kim and Kat had. I just wanted to sleep on
the beach and work on my tan. I stuck out like an elephant. Haha :) That
night, Kim and I left the room to go for a walk (I was secretly looking for
ice cream. I thought it would help my fever go down, ya know), and we ran
into some very interesting people. First we saw this big safari-like jeep in
the driveway. It was painted white with "Drive Against Malaria" in big red
and black letters on its side. Then, all of a sudden, its driver, Dr. Sara
from the Netherland introduced herself and immediately noticed my fever. I
thought she was so cool. Right away, Kim let her know that I had malaria. I
just smiled haha. Her cohort, David, showed up, and I noticed that he had no
right arm or leg. Yikes. He had whitish-grey, long, curly hair and piercing
blue eyes. He's from the UK. They proceeded to visit with us and educate us
about malaria. They checked Kat's temperature (no malaria) and gave us all
free Courtem. They were pretty G. The next day, after a quick stop by Mt.
Cameroon (we tried walking to the first geographical "level", the forest,
but we didn't really make it too far), we headed back to Douala hoping to
catch the night bus to Bamenda and make it to Lassin by Friday evening. I'm
sorry to say that I did not take a enough pictures during our Cameroonian
adventure. I did have a pretty swell time, though. Now I can say that I
really have seen Cameroon. Another thing we failed to do was to go up north
towards Lake Chad to see Waza National Park. We decided that the journey
would be too long and dangerous. I don't think I'd mind doing Christmas in
Africa again, just as long as I have some family to keep me company.

An African Christmas, Part One (1/9/11)

It really seems like a year has passed since I last "updated" you all. That
much has honestly happened. Let's see how well I can remember everything.
Well, December found us (Kim, Kat, & I) with extreme cabin fever. We really
wanted to get out of Dodge, er, Lassin. So we planned accordingly. We would
leave on the last Thursday of school after class let out, and we would set
out to see the world! And even though we didn't end up leaving until Friday
morning or seeing the world, we let nothing curb our enthusiasm AT ALL.
Thursday night/Friday morning was spent packing up ol' Silvy, Kim's old,
silver, hard-top, on-its-last-leg suitcase and all our respective backpacks.
We were going to enjoy this trip no matter what happened. Friday morning, we
tramped down to the taxi park clad in jeans hauling all our stuff. The day
before, I'd been told that it would just be best if I ate the rest of my
2010 meals with Kim & Kat. So this morning, defeated, I carried my bag of
white, breakfast bread to the market with francs to supplement it with
chocolate, biscuits, and ching ching all 'round. The night before, Julianna,
one of the sweetest people in Lassin, had brought us fufu & fried agusi
(pumpkin seed swimming in palm oil: very tasty!). I ate my fufu with avocado
and shared some with D. We had way too much fufu to know what to do with-aka
we gave it away. Anyway, we found a taxi & the four of us piled in,
completely pumped for our adventure across Cameroon. First stop? Kumbo of
course! This was pretty much the most important stop since I needed onions
so bad from Moneygram (onions is Rose lingo for cold, hard CASH). Oh! Funny
story. Well this taxi ride was one of my first experiences with dust. The
roads in rainy season are just awful to drive on, BUT the roads in dry
season are covered with at least a few inches of loose, orange dust. This
dust will find its way into a taxi or suitcase or person through the tiniest
of openings. It's great. Our trip Kumbo also found us with some interesting
cargo, and I'm not talking about taxi mates. Two pretty big bags of bong (I
think that's what they called it?) traveled with us most of the way to
Kumbo. Also great. Okay, so after taking a bike to the post office (3 more
packages! Thank you Mom & Gma Anne!), walking to Pastor Josiah's house
(pastor of our church here in Lassin), loading up on holiday goodies from
the boxes, taking a bike to Moneygram/the supermarket, then BACK to the taxi
park, we were all almost ready to go to Bamenda. The roads to Bamenda are
much better than those to Lassin. So, in that respect the trip was better.
There are even some paved stretches of road which means a lot less dust. But
I think we must have gotten on the oldest "Taxi Bus" in the business.
Bamenda is just on the other side of these big hills. In order to get to
Bamenda, the Taxi Bus had to climb these hills. It barely made it. Once we
started up the hill, the driver had to stop what seemed about every ten
minutes to replenish the water in the radiator. One time when we stopped, he
didn't wait long enough for the pressure to decrease before opening the cap.
Hot water and steam came shooting out in all directions! By this time, all
the occupants of the van were very angry at the driver for putting them
through this and not maintenance-ing his vehicle before the busy holidays.
We made it to Bamenda, but he couldn't even take us all the way to the taxi
park-the van was in that bad of shape. He pretty much made us get out on the
side of the road (we were very, very close to our stop, though). After a few
minutes, our Bamendian contacts, Mercy and Rita, met us. Mercy is the wife
of Felix who Kim met through the installment of her village phone
antenna-like you know what that means. Our time in Bamenda was very nice. We
got a total change of scenery, TV (Kat was ecstatic about the Disney
channel), ice cream, internet, new hair-dos, free lodging, malaria (haha!
Yeah, I'm pretty sure I contracted it in Bamenda, 7-10 days before the onset
of symptoms.), ATM use, and good company. One thing I did not get was a
shower. All I can say about that is: mercy. I think my favorite part of
Bamenda was the hair-platting line of the market. Or maybe it was the cold
or frozen drinks and snacks we enjoyed. Yeah, I think both. The
hair-platting line is a pretty long aisle of the market with nothing but
women and girls standing or sitting on stools doing nothing but braiding
hair. It was really awesome. When we first arrived, I was kind of annoying
because all the women were staring and trying to get us to go to them for
their services. We finally found the ladies Rita was looking for and I got
to sit. The women starting braiding Kim and Kat's hair at about 1 pm in the
afternoon, and we didn't leave the market 'til 7 or 8 that night at least.
It was a long day, but they had beautiful, yet painful, braids to show for
it. Sunday night we carried/rolled our things to the taxi park ready to
embark on our next leg of our adventure. This time, we'd be taking the night
bus to Yaounde, the capitol of Cameroon. This would be one of my favorite
stops on our trip. I slept like a baby on the bus. Only because Divine was
nice enough to let me have his window seat. I conked out before the bus even
rolled out of the park. I have learned some funny things about night buses.
The seat number that is written on your ticket means nothing. Sure, you
might be sitting in Seat 55, the information given on your ticket. But, then
again, you might be sitting in Seat 54, Seat 12, or Seat 74. Or you might be
sitting on some luggage in the aisle, someone's lap, or even the floor. If
you're not quick to claim your seat, you may not have one for the ride.
Also, about half-way through the drive to your destination, night buses
always stop at a sort of night market. The first time my sleep was
interrupted by this, I was pretty startled: What the heck is going on?!
People actually want to eat at this time of the night?? Crazy. The second
and third times were old news. My first few goals in Yaounde were to find
lodging, go to a bakery, and take a shower-in no particular order at all.
So, we found our way to the SDA Union office hoping they could help us.
Fortunately, they are located right across the street from the best bakery
in Cameroon-Calafatas Boulangerie. Wowsers, that place is awesome. After
picking up some breakfast, we just lounged in the lobby of the union office,
dozing on and off after their staff worship. We waited to see the president
for about 3 hours. Turns out that their hotel units were booked. They helped
us find a taxi across town to the Baptist mission, SIL. Now this place
looked so nice! It's a huge gated community filled with Americans and
Canadians and even Cameroonians.

Blog: Improvement (Dec. 12, 2010)

Wonders of wonders: we'll be home in less than 5 months, it's almost
Christmas here, less than 1 week of school 'til break, I'm happy. I never
thought that Africa could be as cold as it is right now!! Wow! The
temperature difference here between the middle of the night and then middle
of the day is huge! I really do feel like I'm camping and have been for over
3 months. It's great, though! The crispiness of the morning is really nice.
Or is it just crispness? Ha! Well, I've heard that, according to teachers,
one of the things most dreaded things in teaching can be summed up in just
one word: grades. And, boy, did I really agree about a month and a half
back! The testing that I've done in the past week, though, has simply been a
breath of fresh air. Testing my whole class (orally, for the most part) can
really take a long time. That's what I learned about the process during
mid-term testing a few weeks ago. But this past week was really nice. I knew
what I needed to do and had a plan. Instead of testing all the kids the week
before grades were due, I've done them. well it's still the week before. but
I've allowed for much more time this go-around. And let me tell you what I'
ve learned from all my students (except for one) by testing them. They've
really improved! Now I know how good teachers much feel when they realize
that the students they have been teaching have actually been learning, too!
Haha-go figure. So I want you all to know that I really am teaching over
here in Lassin, Cameroon. The kids really are learning. God really is
working. A LOT! He's the one responsible for all the good things happening
here! What a big job He's got; but He surely is capable. Not only has class
2 improved at APS of Lassin (as well as the other classes, I'm sure), but
the relationships here amongst missionaries and locals has really changed.
Improvement's been prayed for, and God has delivered. Another thing that's
gotten better is my cooking skills. Friday afternoon, I attempted to create
a cake that looked and tasted like chocolate. The main ingredient: carob!
God must've performed a miracle on that cake! Thank you all for your prayer
and support. It makes such a difference to me and the others here. Your
random texts, calls, and packages are such a blessing. Hope everyone reading
this has a wonderful holiday!HH

Blog: Get Outta My Face! (Dec. 12, 2010)

Sometimes on my walk home from school, the butterflies go fluttering by and
nearly run in to my face. The first time this happened, I was really in a
foul mood (haha). My day of teaching had gone fine, but I just really wanted
to be alone; I really wanted to be free from the children. Here, though,
that just doesn't happen. The faster and harder I try to walk, the more they
try to keep up with me. So the first time these butterflies tried to take me
out, I was really kind of mad at them. I knew I was wrong for being annoyed,
but I guess I didn't care at first. Then I got to thinking. Those
butterflies are beautiful. They weren't really trying to hurt me. They're
totally innocent creatures-even if they do like to hang out in gross places
(or piles.). I should be thinking of them as a huge blessing and not a huge
annoyance. Then a drew the great parallel. The butterflies are just like the
children. They're carefree, innocent, beautiful. That is, up until I wanted
to pin them as annoying. How dare I. Since beginning my new life as a
teacher, I have really learned more of the appreciation due to the adults
throughout my life. Sometimes adults have just had it with kids. All they
really want to say is "Get outta my face, kid!" But I'm so glad they said
that so seldom to me. I'm so, so grateful. My parents and family, my friends
and their families, my teachers. All of them chose to be kind to me (as far
as I can remember). As much as I just wanted to be around them, to be
included, even to be in their face-they could've really had a problem with
me. But they chose not to. Sometimes we all just need time to be alone, time
free from others. I know I violated that me-time of many, many adults
growing up. But I think that's just the beauty of kids. They remind how we
should be: always loving, always selfless, always like Jesus. The past few
weeks I've wondered if He even ever got tired of the people who were just
always there at His heels. And I don't know. But I'm sure if He was, He did
everything in His power to keep them from knowing it. What kind of person
would Jesus have been if He didn't want to be around people or got tired of
people? I'd feel guilty for wanted to depend on Him, for needing to depend
on Him. Thank God Jesus wasn't like me. So for now, I'm so thankful for the
Spirit's small reminders of how to live like Jesus lived. Thanks for the
butterflies in my face.