Traveling Troubles

Before I write a post about how marvelous it is to be IN IRELAND and one step closer to home, I really want to tell you about my traveling troubles and why I'm quite proud of myself for overcoming them. Before I left for Mombasa, I was nervous.Scared. Terrified. What if my plane crashed? What if I missed all my flights? What if all my stuff got stolen? These were the kinds of thoughts that were flooding my mind as I prepared for my journey. When I was dropped of at the Mombasa airport and left to fend for myself, new fears came up. What if I wasn't allowed out of the country? What if something went wrong? As you can tell, I was really trusting in Jesus and thinking positive thoughts. Finally, I decided that if something did indeed go wrong, I might as well be on everybody's good side. So everywhere I went I was bright and cheery and as adorable as I could possibly be (I toned it down a little after a Kenyan guy started relentlessly flirting with me. Actually I toned it down all the way because I pretended to be asleep for the entire plane ride.)

Anyways, I landed in Nairobi and had a seven hour layover (from 9pm to 4am) during which I Facebooked and smiled and had a lovely chat with a girl who reminded me vividly of Luna Lovegood and of Stargirl. Then it happened. My worst nightmare came true. I was feeling so happy and quite prideful that I'd gotten myself this far when, at the imigration desk, those fateful words were uttered. I had smiled and had attempted to be as perky and as nice as was possible at 4 in the morning, but the man at the counter crushed my joy by tersely informing me that my Kenyan visa expired one month ago. My face crumpled and I stammered and let out an immature but quite understandable tear or two as I racked my brain and thought of all the terrible things that awaited me. A massive fine? A lifetime in JAIL?! My terror and distress must have been transparent because the man actually looked taken aback. He then condescendingly explained what had happened, looked concerned for me, let me say a few things, and let me go. No fines, no jail, no missing my flight. Nothing. My smile returned and up the escaaltor I went, completely aware that Jesus had rescued me from (maybe not a lifetime in jail) but a pretty sizeable fine. From then on in my travels I went to the Lord about everything!

I was feeling sick and cramped and clausterphobic on my flight to Istanbul, and I prayed that maybe during the next flight there wouldn't be anyone sitting beside me (kind of crazy since the flights are usually packed) because I'd love to have some space to spread out. And, of course, during the flight to Ireland there was nobody next to me and I was able to sleep happily for almost the entire time. Then, I got held up at the Irish immigration desk (seriously?!) and after stuttering and wondering if I'd be sent back to Africa, a peace came over me and I figured out what to say and (after lots of complications) got through.

All that to say, God is good all the time! I love Him and I LOVE IRELAND.

thoughts on traveling the world

Sometimes when you dream of adventure you imagine far off places and brand new faces. You think of jungles or castles, new accents and new sights and new smells. You think of anything that has nothing to do with home, and your heart soars and your eyes sparkle at the idea of going away and coming back with stories everyone else would only be able to pretend that they had been a part of.  You’re a bird wanting to fly, home is a cage keeping you inside, and the people around you are the ones that have clipped your wings.

Have you ever felt that way? I have. After graduating high school and not having a dime in the bank, I watched my classmates make plans for college and discuss with joy the futures that lay ahead of them. All of the sudden, I didn’t feel ready. To pay exuberant sums of money for an education that I wasn’t prepared for and didn’t yearn for seemed to me a waste. And, hanging up the phone that sunny afternoon after deferring my acceptance into my dream school, my heart felt light and already in my mind I was traveling the world, gaining experience and knowledge that no school could give me.

A blissful summer flew by and plans were constructed and Africa was to be my destination. I saw myself on a safari, hugging children, eating mangoes, and cooking African food and I felt excited and happy and ready. When the day of departure dawned, however, I didn’t want to leave. Suddenly, those people and those places that had once seemed confining were the very places and people I never wanted to leave. It was not with a joyful heart that I boarded the airplane that day, it was with a regretful heart. I thought of my dear classmates enjoying college and wished that I, too, were living a life of schedules and classes. However, I was going to Africa, and that is just how it was.

My life in Africa had too many ups and downs to count. I say this with a smile, remembering the deep lows and heavenly highs I went through over these four months. My idea of adventure before coming here was skewed. Adventure, my friends, is not an all-positive word. To have an adventure you must have unimaginably low times in order to make the good times that much better. Those nights spent crying for want of my home and shower and family only made the beautiful moments more wonderful. It’s a hard concept to explain, and I suppose you won’t truly understand until you’ve experienced it.

All of this to say, I’m leaving Africa with no regrets. I’ve learned so much through this experience and I wouldn’t change a thing. The main thing I’ve learned, however, is that I’m not as independent as I once led myself to believe. The number of times I’ve called my dad has bordered on ridiculous and I have messaged my mom far too faithfully. I’ve discovered I’m not meant to live in faraway places, although occasional visits wouldn’t be so bad.

For me, my heart is where my home is, and my home is where I know every street and sidewalk. Home is where my family can sit and watch The Middle and laugh so hard we cry. Home is where I know the location of every Chick-fil-A in town and it’s where I can sleep soundly and speak honestly and cry openly. I adore this world and all of the beautiful places in it, but there’s no place quite like HOME.

Goodbye, Africa

It’s the kind of evening where you put on your pajamas at a ridiculously early hour, eat as many chapatis as you can, and drink cold Sprite while watching the sunlight slowly leave the living room. It’s a perfect summer night, the kind of night that leaves you feeling nostalgic for all other wonderful summer nights and leaves you feelings a happy kind of sad. It’s so perfect that it almost feels like Africa’s saying a beautiful goodbye.

It’s my last evening here at Royal Kids School. Tomorrow will be a day of doing laundry and packing my things and moving to Mama Grace’s (the director of the school) house for my remaining time. There, I will enjoy the running water and I will rest up for the days of traveling that await me in the near future. So that’s what’s going on in my life right now. That, and saying my goodbyes. Have you ever had to say goodbye to a whole community of people you most likely won’t see again? If you haven’t, you are so unbelievably lucky.

How can I smile and say goodbye to children who will grow up and live in poverty, possibly for the rest of their lives? How can a hug and a few words be sufficient for a goodbye to the people who have been so wonderful to me during my stay here? It doesn’t seem like it’s enough, and maybe it’s not, but it’s all I can do. Today I said goodbye to my favorite little boy named Denzel. He and a few other children had to wait for a while before their parents came to pick them up, and I hung out with them for a little while, dreading saying goodbye to my little friend. Eventually his dad came and he had to go, but before he left he looked back and told me, in his sweet little voice, not to forget him. Let’s just say I had to smile and leave right away so nobody would see my tears.

Goodbyes and endings are as heartbreaking as hellos and beginnings are heartwarming. While leaving Royal Kids School is sad for me, it also means that I’m starting something new in Ireland-and I’m four months closer to coming home! So tonight is a sad night of goodbyes, and this weekend holds many more goodbyes in store, but come Monday a new adventure begins and I think “I’m quite ready for another adventure.”

If you didn’t catch that ode to Bilbo, I’m not sure why we’re even friends.

Love, Christie

Me Without You

It's like a chocolate chip cookie without the chocolate chips

Like a perfect first kiss without any lips

It's like going to the beach when there is no sun

It's like getting married to someone who's just not the one

A puzzle missing its last piece

A mouse without its cheese

The sky being anything but blue

That's me without you

It's like a rainy day without a good book to read

Like a plant growing before you've planted the seed

It's like a smile missing it's happy glow

Like when you want to go somewhere but you don't know where to go

Celery without peanut butter

Windows without any shutters.
Tennis shoes that are just too new

That's me without you.

Something Hard.

TECHNOLOGY.
Can I just give you a little summary of what has happened with all my technology in the past four months?

1. I leave my computer charger in Ireland
2. It takes a week to figure out how to get my phone to work
3. Once I get my computer charger, my converter blows out
4. I get a new converter
5. The new converter blows out
6. My phone gets stolen

I've been trying so hard to stay in touch with people at home that some days I've forgotten I'm even in Africa (not really, just trying to make a point...) and I think that all my troubles with technology are God's way of telling me to CHILL. This entire trip has been a crazy one, and I've felt the need to always have a way to contact people at home.

An awesome quote that I have heard several times recently is: "Wherever you are, be ALL there." Jim Elliot said this and it struck my heart because if you're in Africa, you should be in Africa. Many times during this trip I've felt that part of me is in Africa and part of me is at home with my friends and family. And that's been a struggle throughout the whole trip.

Looking back on my experience I know that there were many opportunities for me to put down my phone and engage more fully in what was going on here. But at the same time, through talking with people at home, ties with friends and family have been formed and strengthened and that wouldn't have happened if I hadn't been able to communicate with them. SO...

I just wanted to say that the trip hasn't been easy and that I'm grateful to the people at home and the people here for helping me through. When I look back on this trip, I won't see experiences as much as I'll see FACES of the people I've met. It was hard finding a balance between talking too much to people at home and talking just enough, but I think that balance was easily found once my phone was stolen :) God works in crazy ways, that's for sure!!

This post has been a little bit all over the place and maybe kind of pointless but lunch is waiting and I'm uber hungry so I admit that I'm rushing a little bit and I'm gonna go now...

xoxo Christie

Something Beautiful.

For those of you who don't know, a friend of mine came from the States and spent a couple of weeks in Kenya with me. She has such a huge heart for Kenya and inspires me so much to get the most out of every adventure. One night we had made dinner plans, but they fell through and we were left with empty stomachs and forlorn faces until we remembered that we could compensate by buying chapatis and mangoes at a nearby cafe. We took the deliciously fresh mangoes and ridiculously too-good-to-be-true chapatis to the kitchen roof where we took a deep breath and let it sink it to our very souls that we were in Kenya and that life at the moment was truly beautiful. We ate and were merry and laughed and talked about the most random things imaginable until we realized that nobody knew where we were and that we should perhaps go back. 

Another night while she was here, we decided to do our laundry. Instead of doing it in the middle of the day which is when I've done it in the past, it was about 8pm and completely dark. We took our laundry buckets filled with soapy water and our bags of clothes outside to a few benches and began to wash our clothes. Again, it was such a simple moment, but a really beautiful one. There is a different feeling in Africa than America...doing laundry by hand outside in America at 8 at night wouldn't produce the same happiness or fulfillment. So, what's different?

If you stop and listen, there is undoubtedly the dull hum of cars flying by on the freeway. Maybe there are police sirens and the noises that we have labeled as every day sounds. In Africa, though, there's none of that. The sounds we heard when we were ravenously devouring chapati or clumsily washing our clothes were of people. Just people living their lives. Babies crying, mamas talking, and so many kids playing and laughing. When is the last time you heard a group of neighborhood children talking and laughing and playing outside together? When is the last time you have gotten together with your neighborhood friends and learned about what's new in their lives? In Africa, everyone's life is intertwined with each other. And sitting outside, breathing in the sweet African air, you only hear lives being lived. 

That's something I'll miss coming home. The community and the fellowship, unhurried by fast cars and loud cities. It's a slow life, yes, but it's richer than many lives around the world simply because it values time and community more than anything. 

xoxo 
Love, Christie 

Something Funny.

From America to Africa, a person is just a person. Back at home, I would take my sister’s clothes and wear them whenever I wanted. A part of her was probably relieved when I left because that meant she didn’t have to continuously confront me anymore to ask me to stop taking her things even though for some reason I just never stopped.

When I got here, I left a few things out on my dresser like deodorant, a hairbrush, lotion, etc. Once, there was a visitor who stayed in my room for one night. I went to sleep early that night, but woke up when I heard a noise. I looked over and the visitor was rubbing my deodorant all over her body while wearing one of my dresses. The next morning she woke me up to say goodbye and asked me if she could borrow a shirt. I agreed, too asleep to process anything, and I never saw the shirt again.

Since then, people have used my malaria pills, my internet credit, my shower lotion, the food I bought for myself, and more. Also since then, I’ve learned to hide my stuff AND I’ve learned that it’s almost impossible for me to stay frustrated with anyone who is using my stuff because…I did the same thing to Kari.So basically, just treat others as you want to be treated. Even if your sister’s clothes are really, REALLY cute, remember how indignant and violated you felt when you saw someone rubbing your deodorant all over their body.

Lesson learned. 

Love, 

Christie

[the visitor came back into my life a few months later. the lord put it on my heart to befriend her and it turned out that she is very sweet. the second time around, however, i did keep my last stick of deodorant hidden away.]

Hey, Dad. I love you back.

My dad is so very wonderful. When I was little he would come in to Kari's and my room to say goodnight and he would say "I love you" and (I don't remember this, but apparently it's true) I would refuse to say "I love you" back. I have no idea why this was the case, but I was one of those stubborn children who wouldn't acknowledge that I had done anything wrong no matter how long I sat in time-out for. I would also sit at the dinner table for hours after dinner was over because there was no way I was going to drink my milk. Sometimes I cried when people sang "Happy Birthday" to me on my birthday. And, I guess, this streak of craziness compelled me not to tell my dad that I loved him. 

The thing is, my dad has always been and still is my hero. I've admired him for as long as I've been alive. I love him because he was always there to play with us and was never to busy teach us games when we were little. He would read the Chronicles of Narnia every night and during dinner he'd read to us from the Bible. He's the leader of the family and I'm so blessed to call him my dad. 

As I grew up I realized that I was just like my Dad. We both doodle all over our paper when we take notes. We both leave Diet Coke cans around the house because we honestly forget to pick them up like Mom asks. We both love and value relationships and authenticity. And we have the exact same sense of humor. The jokes Dad used to tell that used to be the cause of rolling eyes and exclamations of "Dad, pleaaase stop!" are now absolutely hilarious. And when I suddenly wanted to go to Africa, Dad found me the cheapest plane tickets. He found a good deal on an iPhone, so that I could still communicate with people back home. He helped me with everything and sent me off to Africa, where, upon the third day of being there, I called him in tears and he gave me the exact encouragement I needed. When I decided to come home early, he was the one to change the plane tickets. Am I dependent on my dad? Well...yes. I know how to be independent and how to live on my own, of course, but for as long as I live I don't think I'll ever stop needing him in my life. So, Dad, for all those times I never said "I love you" back, I LOVE YOU, TOO. 

This blog post was inspired by the burst of pure love I've been feeling for Jesus these days. All those times Jesus tried to get close to me, I refused to tell him that I loved him back. And now after 4 months of it just being us, I can honestly say that I love the Lord and I KNOW that he's there and will always be there when there's nobody else to turn to. 

So here's to my earthly father and my heavenly Father, who are both there for me and love me even when I pretend I can do it all on my own. 

xoxo 

Love, 

Christie

CHANGE OF PLANS - where You go, I go.

Nyaje marafiki!

(What’s up, friends!)

    This week has been a week full of decisions and conversations and lots and lots of prayer. These past three months have been full of both negative and positive experiences and, as life-changing as Kenya has been, I have come to the decision to end my African adventure earlier than planned. I will be boarding the plane on January 22 rather than February 26 and heading to Ireland. I will then spend my remaining time in Ireland, living with my good friends and helping them out with their ministry as they balance both their work and their newborn baby boy! I feel peaceful about this decision and I look forward to what the future has in store!

     As for my stove project – don’t worry! I still have over two weeks here in Africa and the down payment has been made and the stoves are on their way. Kenya operates on what I like to call “African time”, which turns five minutes into an hour and a few days into a week, etc. It is very laid back and I am currently trying to somehow get the stoves to arrive in non-African time. When I come home I’ll have not only jet-lag to deal with, but the initial shock of people being on time! In Africa, however, the laid back culture has proved to be relaxing and void of pressure and oddly refreshing.

     Everything has happened so quickly and before I know it I will be on the plane bound for Ireland. What does all of this mean for me and for those who have been so supportive of me? It doesn't mean that I've failed, nor that I’m giving up. It simply means that I believe there was not as much of a place for me here as I was anticipating, and while this experience has been unforgettable and not at all regrettable, Jesus and Ireland are calling my name. Your wonderful prayers and sweet messages have gotten me this far and I hope you will continue to keep me in your prayers as I serve with the same heart for the same God in a completely different country.

Thanks again and I love you all!

XOXO Christie 

a quick update

    I apologize to any of you who keep up with my blog and my adventures for my lack of communication about what has been going on in my journey for the past few weeks. I also want to extend a huge THANK YOU to all of you beautiful people who decided my stove project was a worthy cause and felt led to donate. We are now over my goal of $2000 and I pray that we will be seeing pictures of the new stove soon. We have yet to purchase it due to a few setbacks, but I promise you it will arrive and the kitchen staff will have a load lifted off of their shoulders thanks to your generosity and the Lord’s miraculous ability to provide. For that, I thank you.

    As for an update about what is happening here in Kenya, I don’t have too much time or too much to say. Christmas and New Year’s was such an adventure as I navigated and experienced the Kenyan versions, and I know for a fact that I will never forget the holiday season of 2012. People were coming in and out and there was food and fellowship with people who have only been here since the beginning of December yet with whom I have already formed a bond with. I’ve met so many wonderful people this holiday season and will be sad to see them go as the new school year starts and everybody goes back to their homes or to their schools.

    I am currently drinking a cup of strong coffee at 5:28 in the morning, listening to Africa wake up. Every day I learn something new and every morning I am more grateful for my life than I was the day before. I am blessed and the Lord has been showing me His heart for me in big ways over these past few days, especially. Thank you for your prayers and your continued support. I love you all and I wish you a wonderful New Year.

Xoxo
Love, Christie