Observing

Yesterday was a really blessed day. Given my propensity for stressing, I really felt surrounded by God's peace. My tummy still has not gotten back to 100%... I often feel just "icky," so the drive to and from Konye every day is a nonstop jostle of my innards. Haven't had to stop to puke yet, but it wouldn't be beyond the scope of possibilities, to be honest. Taking that and adding to it a touch of nervousness about my lesson plans for the adults that are more advanced than I had planned for, my anxiety at any point of the day tends to fluctuate. But despite the factors in play yesterday, the Lord really went with me in a visible way for me. 

One of my very favorite parts of yesterday though was attending the Lutheran grade school that is run by the church on the same grounds. Pastor Israel welcomed med me into his classroom of 2-5 year olds and let me watch them sing some songs they knew, practice introducing themselves and reciting a rhyme for the class. Needless to say, it was a 10 out of 10 on the adorable scale. I think only one little girl was terrified of me (which always cracks me up). After visiting the other two classrooms of older students, I got to see the church building and the parsonage in progress behind the church and talked a little bit with Pastor Israel about their work in the Tansha area. 

But my FAVORITE part of my day was getting to trek (walk) back home by myself. It was drizzling rain and a bit muddy, but my mantra this trip has been "THIS is CAMEROON!" and I loved every moment of it. I find so much joy looking at life at a walking pace, absorbing the details that normally whiz (or bump) by in the truck. I drew a lot of surprised looks from locals in their yards and those driving by (who were very kind to minimize splashing). I got to see a small snail that they catch to dry and sell to eat in the markets and on the roadsides (its shell was about the size of a large gumball you would find in a gumball machine at the mall). I had to navigate the driest parts of the mud and got to see the variety of homes along the road more closely. I shared many hellos with people and also managed to pick up a shadow who insisted on walking with me. Thankfully Karen pulled up not too long after that so I didn't have to walk the entire way (it is a bit far), but the experience was a great cultural adventure to me in a very safe environment. One I certainly would never have in Milwaukee, that's for sure!

My evening class covered possessive pronouns and nouns. I was pleased to hear Milton tell me he learned that the plural possessive ending with s' was a new concept that he had always written off as an error. Cameroonian people are not great with feedback and asking questions because they don't want to sacrifice their pride too much, but it was SO good to hear that Milton learns "one thing every day." One is better than none, I suppose! 

Karen and I shared a really great devotion based around Ephesians 3:14-21. We have said multiple times this trip that the four of us have become a family here. Learning from each other, leaning on each other, and loving each other has become a part of daily life that makes me sad to see the end of the trip approaching. But I'm living in today and absorbing this life while I can and seeing Jesus in new ways. It is truly awesome. 

Climbing

I'm writing this in a room dimly lit by solar lamps (that we thankfully charged today), listening to the rain pour down outside. Power fluctuations and complete outages are a very normal thing, as I may have mentioned in an earlier post, but this is the first that is threatening to last overnight.  The rain is a blessing, cooling the air when the fans cannot. I think I may figure out a way to pin up my mosquito net so I don't overheat. It's amazing how a simple net can block airflow. But I have been very well taken care of - much better than I could have asked for (I'm a spoiled girl here with a mosquito net and air conditioning in my room). And the Krolls have been so generous with their food supply. We are rationed bacon to one slice a person because it is so ridiculously expensive. I still can't believe that they share it!

Ok, so first, I have to rescind something in my last post. It was NOT Ramadan last week... Just some other Muslim holiday. That's what I get for asking a Christian with a minor language barrier. Oops. I've been fretting about that since Friday morning... The very time I was going to be off grid for several days. Those of you who know me well can imagine my irritation of not being able to fix that!

So when last we saw our heroine, she had wrapped up her first week of classes and was heading to the Northwest region of Cameroon to be reunited with her dear friend Mick and his comrade Pastor Dan. The drive was beautiful and we got to see Mt. Cameroon in it's amazing sunrise splendor. The mountain is over 13,000 feet tall, but starts near sea level. It is an active volcano and apparently takes three days to climb. I have a personal goal that if I get the chance to return to Cameroon someday, I would like to train to make the climb. How cool would that be?

The drive to Mbingo (near Bemenda) was long (mostly due to the fact that a road that would have taken us an hour to get to one point, took us four hours due to the detour that was necessary because of the conditions of the road!) we left around 6 am and arrived at our cabin at about 4:30 pm. We stopped at a reputable butcher shop and bakery on the way, but still. That is a long drive. But BEAUTIFUL. You guys. The farther we went, the more incredible the views became. It was like another world. I'll post pictures on Facebook when I can get them uploaded. 

We stayed at a Baptist-run compound that has one of - if not THE - best hospital in Cameroon. They have little guesthouses to accommodate various numbers of guests. But since Mick and I aren't married and there was no one staying there, I got the privilege of staying in the adjoining cottage. And when I say cottage, I mean cottage, curved stone doorways and wooden doors included. Seriously the cutest place I've stayed. Again, I'll post pictures to Facebook later. 

Pastor and Karen left Mick and I for a few hours to debrief, have some friend support time, and they got a date out of the deal. I'm not kidding when I say I cried when I hugged Mick after our week apart. I was SO happy to see him. We laughed and cried (well... I did. Mick didn't), relayed stories and tried to start a fire in so many ways I lost count. A narrow fireplace with long logs that were too hard to saw through was a formidable enemy... Lighter fluid, paper kindling, rearranging the logs, an entire magazine's worth of pages from a 2007 issue of "Canadian Living" (Sorry, rest house owners...) All we really succeeded in was filling the house with smoke. But I'll tell you what. That was some funny stuff that night. And sharing those memories with my brother from another mother (how NOT gangsta was that!?) was awesome. 

The next morning (Saturday) we all ate breakfast together. We had some difficult conversations and tensions were a bit high, so Mick and I went for a hike to find some waterfalls. We found one, but took a wrong turn and never got to the second (big) waterfall. To be totally honest, a good portion of the hike was me talking and crying. Mick let me cry, kept me breathing, and didn't make fun of me when I picked up a stone and threw it as far as I could out of frustration (actually, we talked about it later and it was a pretty good throw. He was apparently impressed but wisely decided not to say anything!)

Our hike was really good for my soul. After I settled down a bit, Mick was able to help me sort my thoughts and encourage me and find a better perspective. I think that hike bonded us for a lifetime. Mick is amazing. 

On our way back, we off-roaded a bit (the trail at that point was sort of ambiguous anyway) and got to see the waterfall we didn't reach. Absolutely beautiful. Tiny in the selfie of the two of us I posted on Facebook, but a good reminder of lessons I learned that day with a dear friend. 

As we descended (no joke, we had hiked UP), we ran into four men from the Filani tribe. They are the horsemen of Cameroon and it is speculated they have some Arab blood in their ancestry. The look different than the tribes with whom we have been working. Mick and I ended up sharing a bit of our journey with the Filani men and had some fascinating cultural exchange as we walked and talked together. Another experience to add to my Cameroon memory storage unit!

So, let me back up just a touch for the next part of the story. As most world travelers know, it is highly likely that at some point you will come across a time where you can't avoid contaminated water, even if it's a few drops. My biggest suspect is the glasses that had been served to us with our lunch at one of the churches I've been teaching at were always still wet, but it was rude not to have some juice they were serving us (especially since they noticed). At any rate, I contracted a stomach problem and was frequently on the toilet Saturday morning before our hike. Unfortunately I forgot to bring toilet paper along on our hike and as you can probably imagine, I ended up praying fervently that the leaves I had to use on my rear end were not poisonous. I can't say that I remember ever getting the runs while camping or hiking, so I guess I can check that off the list and not revisit it. 

ANYWAY, I ended up sick in bed (except for the getting up every 20 mins to use the bathroom). That was disappointing because that afternoon was my only chance to shop for handmade goods on the trip. But I knew I couldn't make it through the afternoon in my state, so I started antibiotics and stayed home. Pastor and Karen got a second night out and Mick played sick nurse/chef of the most delicious food I couldn't eat but he was so excited to have meat after the previous week, I didn't even feel envious. He enjoyed every single bite. I took it easy, but took several pictures of the view from our cabins with the changing light of the sunset. It was a humbling view of what our great God created for our enjoyment. His love notes to me this weekend were unmistakable. Then Mick and I enjoyed the fire and pretended we were camping (fake lantern lamp and all) and just relaxed. Laughter sprinkled in among snippets from the Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt theme song and Flight of the Conchords lyrics. It was a good wrap up to a long day. 

Everyday the members of our team do a Bible study together (now done in pairs since we are split up). The readings were selected and prepared by Kingdom Workers. We use what is called the S.O.A.P. method - read the Scripture, make Observations, Apply them to our lives and the mission at hand, and Pray. Those have been good, but my very favorite time is when we discuss our blessings of the day and what senses were triggered - smells, sounds, etc. I feel like it is the Kingdom Worker version of our family ritual "What was your favorite thing today?" game. It is a great way to recount the day and learn more about our teammates. Our drive to the rest house triggered the sense of a smooth road underneath us. The road to Konye has rattled my bones nearly apart, so the blessing of pavement was HUGE. 

Sunday was spent driving home. I was SO happy to be able to call my boys. I missed them very badly knowing I couldn't call them for three days - especially when I didn't feel good. The evening with Karen was spent watching the first episode of Downton Abby (I haven't seen any of it before last night) and eating roasted chicken and cheesy hash browns. We were interrupted by a few power outages, but it was nice to have a night that felt sort of "normal". I haven't watched TV or anything (no non-Cameroon related stuff on Facebook) since I left home, so it was comforting. 

Today (Monday) I was back to my regular teaching schedule. I felt like both class periods went really well. The children, as usual, were so happy to see me. They really take the edge off missing my boys' hugs. That human contact has been limited and I am craving it. The children are a really awesome part of my day. They are already dreading me leaving. I will miss them too! I smiled when after they hug-attacked me, they went and smothered Mama Karen. It's been heartwarming to watch them extend their affections to encompass her as well. I hope that proves helpful to their long-term ministry here. 

Some of today's personal highlights included receiving a ring that my friend Milton made for me. I left my wedding ring with Dan so I didn't need to worry about losing it or anything, but I kept feeling for it and feeling a naked finger! I'd at least stopped having a mini panic attack every time. Anyway, Milton took a 25 franc coin (the equivalent of about a nickel) and made it into a ring. VERY cool souvenir and Milton made a little money too! I also got to visit his wife Juliet at her shop before evening classes. She made me a few skirts out of fabric from the market. I haven't seen them yet but I can't wait! It was a blessing to me to be able to support each of them for their skills and art! I especially enjoyed the walk to her shop - I spend so much time whizzing by in a truck, I miss the details. I liked the feeling it gave me today. 

So that's been the last few days. Lots of growth through adversity, humility through grandeur, and blessings through friendship, but I am on the constant lookout for joy, reminding me it is there. 

Ascending

With the sun rising (even behind a sky full of clouds) comes a new day. A fresh start meant an opportunity to leave yesterday behind and try again.

Both my classes went smoothly, particularly because I took the drive to Konye, constant bumps and all, to get a good set of sentence examples written along the way there. That set me up for both classes geared toward adults (although I did have an off the cuff lesson on adverbs vs. adjectives tonight as well). I think my students are happy. The number of children was smaller tonight as it was the first night of Ramadan and a few of the students may be Muslim. But my joy for the day was reading the story of David and Goliath to them, pulling in a touch of acting skills, and seeing them riveted, enjoying the listening practice.

The children I call my paparazzi because they are a swarm around me and surround the car as we try to leave. Literally kids hugging on me until I climb into the car. They of course are fascinated by my hair - long, smooth, and soft and sneak every opportunity to touch it they can. I've been impressed with their English levels from school, but since we are in an Anglophone region, it's not entirely shocking for the kids. They make me smile.

And Mama Sabina, the president of the Lutheran Church of Cameroon (LCC) prepared the most delicious dinner tonight. We ate it ALL! It was a nice break from pepe soup with fish. I got three solid meals today... Lunch just didn't happen until 3:30. Don't tell my boys that the Konye church served us only cookies for lunch "like America". Lol... Oh my.

The evening ended with yet another deep conversation with Karen. God has stuffed me to the point of bursting with emotion and I really wrestle with Him on that. It would seem pretty ridiculous to me to come all the way to Africa to "fix" my life. Anyway, I'm blessed by her and her deep faith and hope I am able to process through God's grace the conversations we have had and really start growing in my faith again.

I will be headed up to the Northwest region early tomorrow morning and won't have any internet for most of three days. I didn't want to leave you all that actually read this on a down note from last night. Just rest assured that the prayers of the individuals I reached out to with specifics were affective and I am so very grateful.

I hope to return with a plethora of adventure and growth stories after the weekend. Don't miss me too badly. 😉

Falling

Well.... today was the day.

I knew I would crash emotionally at some point, and it turned out that this was it. I'd like to say that everything is all always amazing and and incredible, but you know what? That would be a lie. The ups come with the downs... and I am in big trouble when I don't release my downs.

My classes went well enough. We didn't get stuck on the road. And so far, I have not stumbled across any African critters today (there were 4- to 5-inch really skinny worms crawling out of the drains and straight up the walls in the bathroom last night just before bed. It made for a really relaxing night, let me tell you).

Traveling in different cultures is exhausting. It can be lonely and isolating. And it is a dang good thing it is filled with interesting things that out weigh the bad. Today I miss my boys so much and need their little tight squeeze around my neck and sweet smoches on my cheeks. I need a back-crunching hug from Dan, and to be honest, a good, freaking long cry session with the person who knows me best.

I think this is one of the hard parts of technology. I write here to emote, to get some ounce of release, but I don't want anyone to worry. I'm sure we will have many adventures more. Friday will bring the drive to meet up with Mick and Pastor again and I am fully confident that is what my heart needs. It's been a long week of fearing that I'm making critical social errors, not understanding much of what's being said, and not fully grasping what my brain interprets as tangled up bureaucracy and related cultural issues that come with working with a foreign organization. That sounds so harsh, and I feel guilty even saying it. But I really struggle with wrapping my head around everything and today the smile fell off my face into sudden, unexpected tears. Unfortunately in front of a national. Which was also a no-no, as I found out. *headdesk*

I just said the other day to a friend that this is the longest period of happy I have had in a long time. I have been dealing with stress quite well and been rolling with whatever came our way. But I finally was honest with myself about my trepidation with my English classes and needed to release that tension. Every day, every class period is different... some days I have awesome sessions with one group and mediocre with the other. I feel under-prepared on so many levels, between the unexpected class-makeup and the change in plan for the curriculum. I'm hoping I get a chance to gain some ground on my updated, more advanced lessons by Monday and start fresh,but tomorrow will just be what it is... I'm praying for a good enough resource to jump out at me off the internet before we leave the house at 8 am. It may be a late night because I am going to go share my coconut that a student gave me with Milton and Juliet when she gets back from her classes. That's a plus. As long as I don't burst into tears. I don't know if I have a good enough list of excuses to get myself out of that one fast enough.

Through this entire process I had Moses Syndrome; Surely, Lord, you can't mean me. Are you sure you think I'M the one you want to send? What if I screw this up? What if I can't handle it? What if I hate it? I think you may have me confused with someone else.

And as awesome as Cameroon has been at times, today many of my fears became true for me. I didn't hang in there well enough. I was barely able to compose myself enough to eat dinner and teach as if I did not have the overwhelming urge to sob my heart out. I thank God that I was able to put my happy and confident mask back on and get going in the classroom, but three weeks was unrealistic to go without crying, I guess.

I most certainly can't expect myself to be perfect and an expert at navigating the difficulty of a new culture in one week. I don't know if I could do it even in a lifetime. But today I just feel like optimistic, idea-concocting, put the best construction on everything Andi is the wrong person to have here. But I'm here... so there must be a reason for that. I just hope I can figure it out before I ruin the chances for any volunteer to come here again.

Ok, so that is maybe a bit dramatic. But my heart sure feels it.

And Mick, if you are somehow reading this (which I'm highly doubting since your in the bush), please save a humongous hug for me. I'm going to need it.

And on the funny side of things, the truck that stopped and just watched us with our vehicle stuck in the mud yesterday was stuck today only 100 feet from our sticking point. How's that for irony, huh?

Now, back for seeking that joy.

Trekking

The last two days blurred by us. I finished my first two days teaching (two classes each day, each 90-120 minutes long) and can now say I'm officially half way through my first week of teaching. I'm having a beer to celebrate. Well, and to cool off...it is super hot and muggy. There is that too. The rain would cool things off a little bit, but that would be a very large problem in the morning with our drive to Konye, so we'll just deal with it.

I began my morning with a cup of coffee and a Pidgen lesson from my good buddy Milton while he fixed the damage we made on a big rock on the drive yesterday. "Aje Butter" (it sounds like "ah-jay BUHtuh"... basically translates to "spoiled" or someone who lives the good life or easy living. It's typically used in a teasing manner and can be upped to "aje mayonnaise" (ah-jay Mah-yo-nAse) if you're REALLY too soft. "Aje Qwako" (sounds just like it looks) is the opposite, meaning someone who lives in difficult conditions. Milton taught me these phrases because I was saying how nice the weather was this morning (much lower humidity for the morning! YAY!) and he said it was not like this last night. I am sleeping in air conditioning, so... I am clearly aje butter! Despite Milton's amazing grasp on the English language, it took us a solid 20 minutes to get the idea through. On the upside, I did teach him that "spoiled" has two meanings (he was only aware of the one relating to food) and we shared a lot of belly laughs in the process. 

However, I think this aje butter girl has been doing pretty well, despite her "pansy" lifestyle. Pastor and Mick headed up north early yesterday morning, so the dynamics have changed. I get along very well with Karen, and while we have very different personalities, I think (as Anne of Green Gables would say) we are kindred spirits. She and I spend a LOT of time on the road together and we have no shortage of traveling stories to swap. She carries a lot of wisdom as a resident of different parts of Africa for nearly two decades. She is more Zambian than American at this point, I believe. I can't think of a better person to teach me the ways of this continent than Karen. She is truly a blessing.

The attendees of my English classes have been extremely varied and there has been plenty of on-the-fly adapting. The church in Konye that we drive to in the mornings is primarily pastors and their assistants. The pastors' English is generally good, but we have an excellent opportunity to practice pronunciation so they are easier to understand. However, since at this time there are no community members, the curriculum I developed is far too simple for the pastors and the first day was a real challenge. I feared I was insulting their intelligence (because we intended this to be primarily for the congregations to reach out into the communities and offer a service to them), That same class today was SIGNIFICANTLY smaller, consisting of several of the assistants, but in all honesty, they needed the most help. Having only four or five students at a time can be either horrible or great. Today was great. We worked right at their level and I felt they got a lot out of class and I walked away feeling like I had made an impact this time around.

The class in the evening here in Kumba Town has been much larger both nights, including many non-members of the church. I would estimate 2/3 of the class is children... which is totally fine with my curriculum, but makes it hard to benefit the more educated adults. Yesterday I felt good about the lesson, but tonight we came up with a strategy to allow everyone to maximize their learning (since we are teaching in a town of about 150,000 people and drew in several older students). I will spend the first half of the class focusing on the children, working on reviewing simple vocabulary, the Bible story that introduces the new vocabulary, and then discuss a section of liturgy or a hymn so they can apply more meaning as they worship in English. Then, the kids will be dismissed and we will focus on more technical English: phonics rules, grammatical points, spelling differences, etc. I plan to start with a base concept and let the class steer from there, based on what they need. Frankly, the plan feels much more solid to me, given whom has been attending. Every day will be a bit different, but I hope that we can find our groove and everyone will feel fulfilled and have learned something from this very short course on English.

I touched base with Mick last night and he (as always) was happy and go-with-the-flow about his student set. It wasn't exactly who we had in mind when I wrote the curriculum (again, mostly pastors and assistants), but their English level is much more limited, so it sounds like the lesson plans are a good fit and they have been good about asking their questions about English. I was worried about sending Mick off by himself having never taught English as a foreign language, but I shouldn't have been worried. I know he's a champ and would figure it out.

So, remember how I mentioned Africa being brutal? Well, Karen's advice that "Africa is not for cowards" is totally true. While I have spent many hours in the classroom trying to balance cultural differences, a new-to-me accent, and varying English skill levels, I have also spent nearly as many hours on Mamfe road (you can Google images). I have a solid battle scar to prove the challenge of the road; I got a very ugly bruise on my shoulder from the seatbelt (of all things) and I think I'm working my core by stablizing every two seconds between the washboard, the potholes and weaving back and forth across the road to find the most solid path. I have mentioned the mud, but I can now tell you with full authority, the liquid mud IS actually liquid and is very deep. Today, we got our vehicle stuck. Where we had no cell service. And our "gum boots" or what I would call galoshes, were too short for the depth of the mud. So they filled completely to the top with mud around our feet immediately. Karen and I got out of the truck in search of large rocks to put under the front wheels... except the passenger side wheel was literally 2/3 buried in this orange liquid the same consistency of a melting milkshake. An on-coming large delivery truck had to stop and wait for us and about seven men or so got out of the lorry and walked over to watch. They threw out some advice here and there, but... honestly, we were more of a spectacle to them. We were very cognizant of safety (theft being our primary concern), but I made serious in-roads with them when I said, "THIS is CAMEROON!!!!" It quickly became an icebreaker and gave me some street cred that the situation didn't really phase me and I was willing to roll with it. Mud was boiling up out of the exhaust pipe as Karen tried to run the truck up. It looked like a mud pit at Yellowstone National Park. She was a rockstar and eventually got the truck out, pretty much by herself. The men, on the other hand, were willing to push from the side a few times (no getting muddy... who's the aje butter NOW, huh???), but that tactic didn't really help. We finally got free and laughed about the ridiculous amount of mud inside and outside of the car. There were actually hand prints on the side of the car in mud. We had a good laugh on the rest of the way home. 

Cameroon has also introduced me to a whole new level of creepy-crawlies. Yesterday, Karen and Milton found a millipede that was rolled up and nearly 3" in diameter. For REAL. Karen picked it up like it was nothing (Um???? What?!). I took a good look, but had very little desire to get very close. And tonight when I took a shower to get the mud, sweat (holy CATS was it humid from mid-morning on), and bug spray, I found a very hairy, large caterpillar in the bathroom. I left him, but I'll tell you what, that does NOT make for a relaxing shower. Normally I wouldn't hesitate to pick up a caterpillar, but I sure am glad I didn't - turns out that most hairy caterpillars here put out histamine that will break you out in horrible hives really, really fast. Good defense for him, not so lovely for those of us trying to play with him (or simply remove him from the house). Apparently there are tons of them where we are traveling this weekend, so rest assured that I will be taking my Benadryl along. I have a whole range of bug bites... I keep joking when I discover a new kind that I must have leprosy. Some you can just see (red circles flat on my skin as if it were dyed), some itch like the dickens, and the latest (although it MIGHT be a bruise, but I'm not 100% convinced) has left tiny blue and red speckles over a few inches of my arm. Doesn't feel like anything, but definitely does NOT wash off, after multiple tries. It is actually kind of impressive, if you can set aside the gross factor. I haven't felt a single bite happen, I just notice them later. On the positive end of the bug spectrum, I have seen the most beautiful butterflies. AMAZING. The detail and the colors. All shapes and sizes. It brings me such joy to know that we have a God that put THAT much detail and creativity into even the smallest creatures that live only a few days. Watching them out the car window makes me smile every time.

So the last few days have been full of journeying and learning, adapting and laughing, and I wouldn't trade a moment of it. There have been times of discouragement and tugs of homesickness, but I keep trekking forward and looking for the joy here, because there really is SO much to be found.

Resting, Worshiping, and Adventuring

Yesterday was a day of realized blessings. I think I much too often (aside from yelling at my kids to turn off the light because it costs me money) take the infrastructure built into our communities for granted. We had no water when we returned from the market (which changed lunch plans) and the electricity- and consequently the Internet - was out for more than a few hours again. The rain poured down for a really long time which was a huge blessing as the temperature dropped while we had no fans. The electricity really fluctuates here... Lights dim and the fans slow down - I would go bonkers if I had to constantly reset my digital clocks. Which is probably why the Krolls don't have any! The challenges just require a little creativity and patience. I have found that (for now) I have been able to soak in the quiet and just "be"... A welcome respite from the chaos at home. Sitting on the veranda watching the rain was so peaceful, but the true eye opener was when the Bible translators that were scheduled to stay overnight came in after walking in the mud for 11 km when vehicles were all stuck in the road. Africa can be brutal. Brutal and peaceful all in one. 

So on that note, the road to Konye is going to be a daily adventure. The 45 km drive this morning was, in places, giant car-sucking mud pits. There is definitely a strategy to choosing the safest (and least likely to get stuck) path. I'm glad I'm not driving! We opted to attend the Konye church to determine how long Karen and I should expect the trip to take (approximately 1 hour 45 minutes give or take, depending on how much rain we get). Red, red mud sloshed up the sides of vehicles and coated the boots and sandals of those on motorbikes. We saw more than a few broken down and/or stuck vehicles on the trips. It was surreal. We arrived late, but caught the tail end of Sunday school. About a dozen children sat in the pews, youngest to oldest, ranging in age from about 18 months to maybe ten years old or so. A sprinkling of adults attended as well.

Worship juxtaposed American-style Lutheran service and a distinct African vibe together. The congregation alternated between classic hymns and African praise songs sprinkled into the liturgy. The secretary and the chairman of the congregation assisted Pastor Daniel (the full time national pastor of the church) with the scripture readings and we listened to a sermon on the "lost chapter" (the parables of the lost sheep and the lost coin). I enjoyed hearing the message through the ears of another culture... And getting a gentle reminder that WE are often the lost sheep in need of searching for and our Good Shepherd shown mercy and love when we are once again found, instead of being punished as we deserve. 

My ears are still straining to clearly understand the accent here. Not knowing when they are dropping in Pidgen vocabulary doesn't help either, but I have my work cut out for me in the next two weeks. I have now visited both churches where I'll be teaching and *hopefully* met some of my students. 

The coolest thing I've done in Cameroon happened after church today though. In Konye we walked through a part of the village, down to the river. Across the river (which was quite wide and swift), there spanned a bridge constructed entirely out of woven together vines.  Mick only ventured about 20 feet out, but I crossed the entire length (and back) with cheers from the locals. Apparently they think "That one has heart" (meaning courage)! And Pastor Julia's who accompanied us to Kumba said it was really something that I had never been to Africa and tackled that bridge without fear. Ha! At any rate, this camper from Colorado had her heart filled with adventure today. The fact that a German engineer came up with the design and the villagers were able to even construct these bridges and have them last for generations - and hold 10 people at a time - is amazing. 

(That's all the farther Mick would go... *snickers*)

Tomorrow, of course, begins the real adventure and purpose of why we came to Cameroon. It has been very nice to acclimate, de-jet lag, and get to know our hosts (who are awesome, by the way), but I'm ready to use the materials I spent weeks preparing. *raises glass* TO ADVENTURE!

Sifting

One of my four-year-old's favorite activities at school is "The Mystery Bag"... One child gets to feel inside a black bag with gold question marks all over it and try to decipher what the object of the day is without looking. Today kind of felt like the pieces of my life were mixed up in a mystery bag and I took turns feeling around, guessing what I thought I knew, and then pulling the pieces out for everyone else to see. I wouldn't define today was negative, it just involved a lot of internal emotional analyzation- some on my own, and some with members of my team. 

After our breakfast comprised of mainly local foods (the coffee, you guys! The COFFEE!), we had our group devotion and talked over more details of our upcoming week. Good discussions arose from that, even when we disagreed on some points - and the sharing of some specific prayer requests for a friend back home really reinforced the concept of a FAMILY of believers that bear with one another in grief as well as joy. 

I took some time to myself a bit later and sat in the yard, taking pictures and just observing the life happening around me. The chicken chased and caught a lizard (and ate it whole!) A pair of birds built a nest. The vines and moss made beautiful compliments to the worn concrete walls around the yard. I soaked in the peaceful quiet of present-ness for me, something I'm generally REALLY bad at. This morning gave opportunity to practice and be still. 

After a light lunch, Mick and I walked around the "block" just to get a sense of the neighborhood. It was one of the highlight moments of my day - we walked around the backside of a school and met a gaggle of kids. Their wide eyes and shy smiles turned to laughter when we waved hello and engaged them in English conversation. But the real key to any group of kids' hearts is to ask them if you can take their photo. THEN the fun began. I absolutely LOVE that kids are kids are kids, no matter where in the world you are. I find it comforting when I am in a stressful situation like a new culture to gravitate toward children. They grasp the concept of play and discovery and help me bridge the cultural gap, unjudgingly. Mick and I walked the rest of the way home with a parade following us. I don't think I stopped smiling the whole time. 

We also got a chance to visit the Kumba Town market with Milton and Juliet. Milton works for the mission, fixing anything and everything. He is one of the most likable people I have ever met and laughs with the joy of Jesus twinkling in his eyes. We wandered the market to buy fabric for Mick's clothes that Juliet (a seamstress) will sew (she is also going to see a few skirts with the leftover materials for me!) The market had the same feel that most markets in developing countries have - eclectic, tight walkways, sometimes dark, lots of people trying to get your attention... And it wasn't even market day (that's tomorrow)! I wasn't looking to buy anything today, so I felt no pressure. I did get a bad taste in my mouth when I received a quite negative response from a vender of beans and rice and spices; she quickly declined my request to photograph her booth (which really was a pity. It was beautiful).. I was polite and thanked her anyway, but I always struggle with the shade of my skin being associated with money or elitism. I wish people could just connect as humans and not be so focused on classifying others... Anywhere in the world, including home.  I did, however, get to help Juliet pick out a dress for herself. That was fun. The delight in her eyes was palpable. 

After driving back to Juliet's shop and getting measurements for Mick's and my clothes, I had a series of deep conversations alternating between Karen and Mick (or at times both). It wrenched out a lot of emotions that I don't always want to show (but often do because I can't control the overflow valve In my eyes). Honesty, trust, and communication are so vital, even if it leaves you vulnerable. I went to bed feeling like I was heard, if not entirely understood (I can't expect that of anyone, really), but most importantly, I felt supported and loved. 

While sifting through my "Mystery Bag," it may have spilled out all over, but I drew others closer as a result. I was reminded that I can handle the English classes (like riding a bike, right? Right??). And I found places to start from in learning this culture. I think we can work with those pieces. 

Looking

A long, winding, and (at times) bumpy road was our day's journey today. From Douala to Kumba with a diversion to Limbe for lunch overlooking the ocean, there was much to see- plantain farms, fields and fields of tea plants, and frothy waves crashing over a rocky coastline. I rarely have seen so much green. Clouds wove in and out of the foothills, blocking our view of Mt. Cameroon, but produced stunning views of muted greens and greys with each layer of the hills, fading into mist. It reflected a calm back to me when I was feeling slightly overwhelmed once again that I was 6000 miles from who I know myself to be. And an intimidation that this trip bears more than the weight of just our English lessons and assessments, but the potential for growth and change in me.

In someways I'm the outsider even within this group as the only first-time-to-Africa-ite of the crew. At many points I felt like I had nothing to contribute, on any topic. My opinions or thoughts seemed small, given the experiences and backgrounds of Pastor and Karen Kroll and Mick, so I listened carefully and took advantage of the time I had to sit and look. 

My eyes were glued to the scenes whizzing by as we wove through traffic that has no abided-by rules. This style of driving was no shock to me after traveling in the Philippines, Thailand, and Cambodia (and in many ways this actually felt safer due to the slower speeds due to the police checkpoints and speed humps every several miles). We only got flagged to stop at one checkpoint where we gave the policeman our passports, but it was all part of the experience. A hassle for our hosts, but a point of cultural interest for me. The real joy I found was watching the people. The clothes, the jobs, the modes of transportation, the children, the smiles exchanged through our window panes. It all breathed of LIFE. I think that's why I enjoy travel so much - to glimpse at humanity playing out in such drastically different ways. 

Already in two days I have experienced and seen more than anyone would care to hear about...but it is so vital that I process it. Before we left, we were asked to watch 4 of 5 video clips about missions trips. My biggest take away from the video was the idea that we can see different aspects of the image of God through encounters with different cultures. The concept absolutely blew me away. It seems so obvious to me now that it is stated, but what an amazing blessing God has showered on us by giving our world so much diversity. We have not only countries, cultures, and communities to see God in -- we have 7 billion opportunities all around us. I'm just going to meet some of the ones on this side of the ocean. 

I am so curious to see what God wants to teach me about Himself through these people, and then in turn, about myself. As my eyes take in the beauty of the people and the land, may my heart take in the beauty of God through it all. 

Take-off to Landing: Perspectives Changing

We made it. Even with a very close call of Mick missing our connection flight to the one-flight-a-day from Brussels. We arrived in good spirits and with enough energy to take in a meal on a veranda overlooking the city of Douala. We raised our glasses with a "beealabob" (cheers, in the family language of our very amiable waiter) and ate our first sampling of Cameroonian cuisine. We sampled the Scottish bonnet pepper, a cousin of the habeñero with a heat index of 10,000+ (jalapeño go up to 8000, for a point of reference)... And it was delicious. The flavor was my favorite of all the peppers I've ever tried. And one of my fears was abated - can I handle the food? Well, one meal is hardly a true test, but getting the first under my belt (literally) is the first step. 

Jet lag seems to be tolerable and I pray that my melatonin is going to continue transitioning me to this time zone smoothly. We are 6 ours ahead of Milwaukee which will make communicating in real time with my boys a challenge, but I'm sure we'll iron that out in the following days. 

Retraining my brain to always think in terms of water safety (no rinsing my toothbrush in tap water, for example) takes me back to our travels in Thailand and Cambodia nearly 10 years ago. There is so much here that reminds me of Southeast Asia, but as I rode in the truck with my eyes glued to the scenes out the window, I could feel the sense of adventure rising once again to the surface. Mick commented on the smile on my face as we walked toward customs. Mick saw the true emotions of trepidation and temporary loss of my family and the familiar as we waited for our first flight. Fear of repeating some of the "bad" memories of my last mission trip was at least addressed and I was surprised to find my tears rise to the surface as we walked to board the plane in Chicago. Mick, I think, is not only traveling to a foreign country in Cameroon, but also one in me. Mick and I approach the same situations with very different mind sets - his is a desire to leave his comfort zone and grow and mine is driven by a desire to make relationships and grow. Not to say that Mick doesn't want that, but our outlooks on life (even at home) is much different. God has paired us together and I pray we fill one another's weaknesses and compliment the other's strengths. 

Currently we are in the French speaking portion of the country, so communication is hit and miss but "mercy" gets you very far. We will travel to the English region today, but I'm so eager to immerse myself in a more "rural" setting and hear pidgin spoken and take in the sights and smells of this country. We will see the sea today and drive through the high tea country, giving excuse for ample use of my camera, I'm sure! I have already misplaced my lens cap... Not shocking in the least.  

I don't know what God has in mind for me. My devotion time this morning highlighted adversity to the Gospel and to not be afraid to proclaim it with confidence. I  definitely read the calming of the storm through fresh eyes. The disciples viewed this danger as catastrophic but Jesus simply stood up and after a rebuke to their lack of faith, commanded the rough seas to stop. I may have sped down the runway with fear.  Now I need to let go and let Jesus calm MY storm. 

Awakening

I sit at my desk in Milwaukee, Wisconsin, reflecting on what will be the next several weeks of my life. Tuesday, September 15 2015, I will board a plane and fly to Cameroon, Africa. For the very first time I will leave my life behind me for three full weeks - husband Dan, my little boys Kai (7) and Niko (4), my routine - and dive into a world I have never experienced. A new continent, a new people, and I hope, a new me.

From experience I know that whatever I imagine on this side of the trip is rarely reality in the end. As much information gathering, practicing, and preparations I do, it isn't until I immerse myself in the field that I have any inkling of what my trip is going to actually look like. One thing I DO know, however, is that this trip will change me.

I have struggled for a very long time with happiness. Depression and anxiety plague me and this year in particular was a difficult journey with God. To be totally honest, in about April I got to the point of wanting to walk away from my faith and giving up on a lot of things in my life. In a last-ditch effort to salvage whatever remnants remained, I reached out to my pastor, Kelly. I inundated him with questions and frustrations; with a litany of seeming contradictions, unfairnesses, and unknowns. His patience and understanding were a gift, but a simple question that turned out to have a profound impact became a turning point in my life: "What miracle do you need to see to believe God exists and loves you?"

I had no answer. And I don't think Kelly expected one. But the next six months flipped my life upside down and, in a way, forced me to start reconciling the conflicts in my heart. Two days after that question reached my ears, I got a text with a link to a house for sale. We had just resigned our lease on our rental and buying a home wasn't even remotely on our radar. But the house was exactly what we needed and was step one in allowing me to grow roots in Milwaukee - something that was hindering me from living in a way that provided positivity. Summer was a whirlwind of non-stop change and work as we purchased our first home and moved over the course of a month. Wrestling with change didn't necessarily fix my happiness, but it allowed me to see God working in my life. My heart began to soften.

One of the biggest challenges for me in our year and a half living in Milwaukee has been that I didn't want to move here in the first place. I had an intense desire to move to a mission field with my family and serve Jesus in a hands-on, tangible way. My faith has always been easier to live overseas and the midwest was about the last place I wanted to be. So when God saw fit to place Dan in a job that allowed him to support a whole slew of missions around the world in his director of marketing position with Kingdom Workers, I began to resent the fact that once again I was tagging along, playing cheerleader for my husband and lacking purpose and direction in my life. Sure, I stayed home with my boys as a stay-at-home mom (an immensely important but exhausting job with no immediate pay off), but I really desired to be something more, to truly feel like I was being used for a greater purpose.

Enter Mick. Mick had recently left his position at Kingdom Workers to work his family's business. He had become like a brother to us and had a way of always making me laugh. Mick was lined up to volunteer for this trip to Cameroon and planned to embark in July (the exact same time we were moving). However, I happened to stop in right before his last day and he mentioned that he decided to move the trip back to September... when my boys would be in school all day. I realized I was finally in a place in my life where I could realistically go and do some mission work for a semi-extended periods of time without as much of a burden on my family. And to get to go with a good friend? I was totally floored.

The pieces all fell into place, and although there was a bit of trepidation about Mick and I working in different parts of the country with the missionary and his wife, the sense of adventure drove us both forward. Now, the day after tomorrow we will embark on a journey God cleared a path for me to travel. The same God I was so angry with - and from whom I didn't deserve any mercy. Yet He is allowing me to go and be His hands and feet on the ground in a new place, with family and friends behind me who supported me financially and will continue to follow me in prayer. 

I named this blog Waking Joy because I feel that is what God has been trying to teach me: to awaken the joy He desires for me. I have focused on pursuing "happiness" in my life, when really JOY is what I ought to seek. Cameroon is an opportunity to start that journey and wake up the joy of the Lord in my heart. I invite you to come with me on this adventure of discovery.