Hippos, Rocks and Mangoes

This post is a bit overdue. 

While we were away we managed to have some fun which included going to see hippos. Now why we left "danger" to go ride in a tiny little boat with hippos only a few feet away, I do not know. But to make sure it was safe, we sent the girls out first. :) Anna and another teacher, Renée, with their trusty guide.

Have to catch the sweet moments while we can get them. We were huddled in the boat trying to keep warm while not moving much so we wouldn't rock the boat.

With boys, sweet, calm moments don't last long.

Finally seeing them! They made a lot of noise and we enjoyed watching them move in their habitat.

                                                                My number one man

                         Showing off my beads that got added to my hair as the week went on.

We then headed off to a Baobob tree that you could walk inside of. It was naturally hollow in the inside. Really quite interesting. When tribes fought each other, the women and children would hide inside the tree for protection. It became a spiritual site where sacrifices are made.

                                                        Seeing how high they could climb.

Another day we headed off to an area where there were all of these rock formations. We met up with some friends who live in the same area. They worked hard to hold up the rocks.

                                                           This cannot be more Kenan

We also enjoyed being in the land of more fruit! Mangoes had already come out which the kids wholeheartedly enjoyed. Strawberries were also in abundance- good thing since my boys ate 15 kilos in 10 days!

                                 The last night before some of our team members left for good.

Anna's last night we went to the streets to celebrate Burkina's second place finish in the Africa cup. This was a huge accomplishment and you would have thought they had won it all by the way they celebrated. Anna chose to believe it was just her going away party. :)

This doesn't even do the craziness justice. People were standing on their motos while riding, ghost riding their cars (leaving the car in neutral and sitting outside of the car), making sparks by leaving their kick stands down while driving, screaming, celebrating and being plan crazy. I kid you not there were times I feared for my safety. It was insane. We could not come up with anything that would cause such celebration in America. Pandemonium. The police did nothing to stop this behavior. I admit the atmosphere was electrifying and intense and one could not help but celebrate with them, at least when the dangerous and crazy people were past. :) I wish I could better describe the scene as it was almost riot-like yet in excitement rather than anger. One of those times I was glad to be there to experience it yet also wondering if I had lost my mind to stand out there amidst it all.

Only in Africa

There are times when I am reminded that life is a bit different here and if I stop and think about what has just occurred, though it would seem quite odd to an outsider, it somehow makes sense when you live here. In recent months there are three experiences that stick out, unfortunately I only have pictures of two of them.

Our team biked out to the "pig farm" the weekend of Thanksgiving. The pig farm has no pigs, of course, but it does have a stream (depending on the time of the year) and rocks to climb, so our boys and a friend, Joel, wanted to hang out longer than the rest of the group. We assured them we would be fine and they could go on without us. I mean, what could go wrong? We were only three adults with 2 kids on bikes and 2 being pulled behind a bike 13 kilometers from home. Like I said, what culd go wrong? We played for an hour or so and headed out to leave where we found Joel's back tire completely flat.  We tried making him ride it but that didn't work and we feared it would mess up the rim. Because Brett was pulling the youngest two, we felt it best he go on ahead and get them home. We called Joel's mom, Alison to see if she could come get us. She was willing but her husband had the car at a wedding so she had to call him to come home. Meanwhile, Anna and I walked along with Dawson and Joel, all pushing our bikes. We decided this would take too long so we put Dawson on my bike with me, Joel on Dawson's bike and Anna on hers pulling Joel's beside her. Two strides down and we realized that didn't work. Next up: Dawson on his bike, Joel on Anna's and Anna on mine with me while I pulled the bike. Another failure. 

And while I knew help was on the way eventually, being stranded in the middle of nowhere with kids and bikes made me feel a need for a solution. I thought if only I could get the bike down the road a bit that would lighten our load and make our travel possible. So I waved down the next man on a moto I saw. He stopped without hesitation. I explained our situation to which he quickly replied, "Drive my moto." I told him that I couldn't and he didn't believe a white person who could drive a car couldn't drive a moto. I continued to express that it was without a doubt true. Still, his response was, "Drive my moto." Now a mother will do many things for her children, more than she ever thought possible. So in a sense of (unnecessary) desperation, I hopped on the moto. He gave me a quick rundown of how to drive it and jumped on himself, holding the bike above his head. If you've ever learned to ride a moto (motorcycle- really it was a motor scooter) you'll know having a person on the back isn't always the best way to learn, especially when that said person is holding a bike over his head. But I looked back once at Dawson, Anna and Joel and off I went with a man I had just stopped along the road, because, well, I was desperate to get that bike further down the road. We went off, little by little, toward the left, then right. And then the bag of grain that had been between the man's legs that was now between mine fell onto the road because I had no idea how to hold it and drive, as my feet were spread out on both sides as if I were trying to balance the moto with my legs. In reality, I had no idea where to put my feet and since the man trusted me to drive his moto I thought this was a finite point that didn't need to be discussed. But when the bag fell, I realized a change had to be made. So instead of asking where I put my feet, I grabbed the bag with my thighs for dear life and kept driving. Soon those I had left were out of sight and it was just me and this guy on his moto on the road. And good thing, since I swerved all over the road to keep us moving forward. But then, we needed to slow down as there was a bump in the road. Problem was he didn't tell me HOW to brake. I don't know, call me crazy, but this is important to learn BEFORE one is driving a moto. I knew there were hand brakes so that is what I used. He got us off the moto and explained, with hand motions, that if I used the hand brakes to stop us, we would flip head over the bike. Do remember this whole tutorial was in Bambara, which is not my first language, so I was admittedly thankful for the hand motions. :) After this we moved forward and I actually began to feel comfortable driving a moto with a man holding a bike over his head, even when from time to time it hit me on my head. Soon enough our salvation arrived as I saw my friend's car coming down the road. I feared she would miss me and all this effort would be in vain. Luckily, she stopped but to my surprise she was dying with laughter. I feared she have would miss me but as she said, "How would I miss a white woman holding on for dear life as she drives a moto with a Malian man behind her holding a bike over his head?" I guess we were kind of obvious. :)  We got our kids, threw the bikes on the roof and went home.

In January I went to Bamako with a friend to pick up Anna from her visit to the US. We made great time and were only an hour from home when we came to the bridge we needed to cross. There was a line of cars stopped in the road. I, of course, ignored them and continued forward only to find that there was a reason for them being stopped. The bridge was closed. They were working on it and it was going to be closed for a couple of hours. 

Being American, I just could not accept this answer. I needed to get home. I didn't need to sit on a road in the middle of nowhere for two hours. So I walked up to the bridge to talk to the workers, surely I could convince them to let me pass. And this is what I found.

So, there was no hope. They wouldn't let me pass. There was nothing I could do. There was no detour. The water below was too deep. All I could do was wait.

So what do you do when you are stuck on the road waiting for the bridge to be fixed?

You dye hair of course. I mean, the bridge was out. It seems as logical to me as 2 + 2 = 4. 

Bridge out + being stuck on the road = dying hair  Like I said, totally logical. :) As I sat in the middle of the road, having purple hair dye (go bold, or go home, right?) put in, an armed army guy came to talk to us and see what we were doing. I explained and he continued to talk to us, waving his gun as he talked which was at the level of my face. I thought to myself that this had to be one of the weirdest moments of my life.

Where did we wash out the color? In the village beside the road. We walked down and asked if we could use some water from their well. They were happy to help us out as we no doubt provided them entertainment for the day. While we waited for the color to set, I sang songs to the kids that I knew in Bambara and French, only adding to my crazy status. When the time came for us to wash out the color, the amusement continued. We were pouring onto the ground so if I stood upright or even bent over, mud splashed everywhere. It was decided that it was best if I stood in plank position while they washed out the color. Soon the color was out and we noticed that cars were starting to pass on the bridge. Perfect timing. And like that we left the village and continued on our journey.

And yet another hair story because, well, hair is important. :) Anna and I decided to have our hair braided. The temperature was starting to rise here so we decided it was best to go ahead and get it done. We started on Jan 19th and spent the Saturday having our hair braided. To give each other a break, Fatu, the girl doing our hair, would do Anna's for a couple hours and then switch to mine. Anna had made the comment the night before about what if we got evacuated while getting our hair done. Well, you know what happened then. About 4 in the afternoon we got a call that we were to have an emergency meeting to talk about leaving the next day. Since both of us still needed several hours of work, we decided it best to take Fatu with us to the meeting. So as we sat to discuss our plan, Fatu braided. 

Anna got her hair finished, I wasn't so lucky. Since I had to pack up my house to leave for most likely a month I had to stop in the middle of the braiding, very much to Fatu's dislike. So here I am on the way to Burkina with my unfinished hair. At least it gave me something to do while we were sitting in Burkina. :)

On being strategically withdrawn

As most of you are aware, we were told to leave our beloved home by our leaders last week to move to a “safer” neighboring country as war unfolds in our own.  Our team experienced this last year during the coup d’état but this is a first for us. It has been an interesting time, with a wide variety of emotions and thoughts.

From the time we were told we would leave until the time we left was about 18 hrs, which included a night’s sleep. So as any mom can imagine, those hours were filled with rushing around trying to compile all the things our family would need for quite possibly the next month. Add to this that there aren’t big grocery stores and no Targets around to get the things you may have forgotten. Piles were made in each room and eventually made it into bags. Packing like this does not allow you to process the reason WHY you are doing it; the only focus is the job at hand. I didn’t make it to the hospital like I wanted before we left, but did manage a few moments of love and kisses with Caroline, our dog. She was responsible for passing that love on to the other 20 animals in our yard. And before I knew it, we were off, crammed in our car like sardines.

The stress decreased as the trip went on, especially once we were through the border. We had to travel 3 hrs after the border and wanted to get there before dark so spending hours waiting for those to process our papers at the border was stressful. The trip ended, much to Anna’s demise, with over an hour of “Say, ‘ton, ton, ton….What shines brightly at night?’…..’The sun!’….’ha-gotcha!’” again and again with new words added in. I think at that point Anna would have rather been kidnapped. JBut at least the kids were occupied and content.

On the way, completely on his own and out of the blue, Kenan said, “We don’t choose where we live. God does.” To which Dawson replied, “I know. I’m glad God chose for us to live in Mali.” Kenan agreed emphatically, “Mmmee too!” Cue the sound of breaking of a momma’s heart.

The woman who set holding her newborn almost 8 years ago, fighting with the Lord over how much harder the task set before her  would be now that she had a child, would never imagine the thoughts she’d have now in this situation. Years ago I mourned the life my kids would never have, that I was taking them from all things “normal” and “stable.” Yet they love their home and want to go home. And one of the greatest reasons I WANT to return is FOR my kids.

One of our fellow teammates asked me the other day if I was relaxing and getting rest. We are sitting at a beautiful hotel, complete with a pool and good food, with no requirements for our days. The biggest tasks include deciding what to eat or going to buy things in the market. So it is relaxing, with a backdrop of uncertainty and confusion. Momentary relaxation, I guess, if that is possible.

We aren’t uncertain about what we want to do but the uncertainty comes in if we will be allowed to do it and when and what the rest of our team will do and how this will affect us. What if all the other families go on early home assignment and my boys are the only ones left? What if only a few return? What if we aren’t allowed to go back at all?

This situation, though, has reminded me clearly that man plans his course but it is the Lord who determines our steps. We never know what tomorrow will bring. We do not know what lies in our future yet often, in stability, we think we do. We rely on our circumstances and falsely assume we have control over ourselves and our circumstances. Even more so, I think, in the US. We think we are safe and we think we have more control of our lives than we do. We often can live under a false sense of security. In this situation we can’t. We honestly do not know what tomorrow will bring and we can’t really pretend that we do. Our lives are in His hands and we wait for His direction. And though this whole situation is overall unpleasant and not what we had planned, I am thankful for the vivid reminder that I am not in control.

And then there is the whole subject of safety. Let me make it clear that first and foremost I do not want to put my family in clear danger. If it is unwise to be somewhere, I do not want to be there. Plain and simple. Nothing is as important as my four boys (Brett included) and I don’t want to do anything that puts them at unnecessary risk. That being said, as Brett has said, it is very easy to determine a place unsafe but very hard to then call it safe. In reality, no place is “safe” and in all honesty, I do not see my risk any less sitting in a neighboring country than I do in my own home (when the risk of which we are mostly concerned is kidnapping).  There is undeniably a risk of kidnapping probably anywhere in West Africa at this point and I am not convinced that a border makes one more or less safe. So then the question arises if you return to your homeland to be “safe” or go back to where your heart is? And considering the homeland, it seems every day I check the news there is a new story of a shooting somewhere or a hurricane or some other weather event that destroys homes and lives. So back to my original point, no place is “safe.” We may fool ourselves to believe it as such, but reality speaks louder. One day or another, whether by death, illness, nature or even war, our safe, comfortable world will be shattered. We are a mist that appears for a little while and then vanishes. (James 14:4)  In this world you will have trouble, but take heart for I have overcome the world. (John 16:33)

So where does all this rambling lead me? If I believe that no place is truly “ safe,” that in this world there will be trouble (thus there is no place free of trouble), and that the safest place for me is in His will, then that leads me to want to go home.  We shall see if that happens, the Lord only knows.

There is no music during a musical rest, but the rest is part of the making of the music. In the melody of our life, the music is separated here and there by rests. During those rests, we foolishly believe we have come to the end of the song. God sends us times of forced leisure by allowing sickness, disappointed plans, and frustrated efforts. He brings a sudden pause in the choral hymn of our lives, and we lament that our voices must be silent. We grieve that our part is missing in the music that continually rises to the ear of our Creator. Yet how does a musician read the rest? He counts the break with unwavering precision and plays his next note with confidence, as if no pause were ever there.

God does not write the music of our lives without a plan. Our part is to learn the tune and not be discouraged during the rests. They are not to be slurred over or omitted, nor used to destroy the melody or to change the key. If we will only look up, God Himself will count the time for us. With our eyes on Him, our next note will be full and clear. If we sorrowfully say to ourselves, “ There is no music in a rest,” let us not forget that the rest is part of the making of the music. The process is often slow and painful in this life, yet how patiently God works to teach us! And how long He waits for us to learn the lesson.  -John Ruskin, Streams in the Desert,  January 22

My face is shining upon you, beaming out Peace that transcends understanding. You are surrounded by a sea of problems, but you are face to Face with Me, your Peace. As long as you focus on Me, you are safe. If you gaze too long at the myriad of problems around you, you will sink under the weight of your burdens. When you start to sink, simply call out, “Help me, Jesus!”  and I will lift you up. The closer you live to Me, the safer you are. Circumstances around you are undulating, and there are treacherous-looking waves in the distance. Fix your eyes on Me, the One who never changes. By the time those waves reach you, they will have shrunk to proportions of My design. I am always beside you, helping you face today’s waves. The future is a phantom, seeking to spook you, Laugh at the future! Stay close to Me! – Jesus Calling, January 15

Happy New Year and Kenan's 6th birthday

Our New Year's was a night like any other. We were in bed by 9:30 and slept into the new year. Kind of like it that way actually. We needed to be rested so we could celebrate the REAL celebration- Kenan's birthday! I told him he was special because the whole world celebrates his day! :)

He wanted a Skylanders (wii game) party but as the week approached he wanted a Mylander party (personalized skylanders). So I tried to go with this but I don't think the theme really went through. We ended up doing a scavenger/picture hunt with clues for places around the yard. Once there they had to do a group activity. There were two teams. I tried to connect this to the theme but I think it was lost on the activities which the kids didn't seem to mind. I must say it went well and was a lot of fun. 

Doing a human pyramid- blue team

yellow team

Trying to break homemade rocks to find the treasure inside (money).

                                     They had to spell Kenan using anything but paper and pen.

 
                                       Moving fish from one basket to another using a straw.

                                                    Filling a bottle using a medicine dropper.

Dropping "snow" into the bucket below. Quite hard actually- cotton balls really blow in the wind and it was windy that day.

Slow and steady wins the race. They had to get a picture with a rabbit and turtle. Another activity was catching one of our goats (did I mention we got goats for Christmas?). Basically, we were torturing the animals for the sake of the party. :)

                                                                Team picture in a tree.

And the other team's activities....

Sparkers in the garage

Kenan designed this cake. It was all his idea. He stood over me and directed me how to decorate it. He shot down my ideas. I did as I was told. It is his Mylander with lightning all around, in case you couldn't tell.
                                     

Our friends the Diarras ended up staying all day. The party was at 10am. They left after 5pm. Perfect, in my opinion. The kids played all day. We ended the time with smashing watermelons (party of the Skylanders game).

Kenan also lost a tooth in the afternoon. As he kept telling people, "It is the first day of the new year. I turned six AND I lost a tooth!" He was pretty excited.

We ended the day with his favorite meals. Friend chicken and white mac and cheese. He was pretty happy.

So blessed to have this boy in our lives. He cracks us up everyday. Here's one of his conversation with Anna at school.

K: Did you know I stole some of your books? 

A: What? 

K: Yeah, I took some books from the library. 

A: O.K.... 

K: I put them under there. 

A: Under where? 

K: Ha, I made you say underwear! 

 He is one of a kind. He lives in his own world and marches to the beat of his own drum. He is incredibly bright and impresses us each day with his reasoning skills. He is our sensitive child, the peacemaker, the outgoing one, and very generous. I love, love, love this boy. So thankful the Lord blessed us with him!