Bugs and Stuff

Last night Heather fell asleep on an armchair as we watched a DVD. She wasn't there all that long before I moved her to her bed under the mosquito net but, oh dear, as she snoozed there uncovered the poor little thing got covered in mosquito bites.

Her face looked like a war zone, or maybe a boxer's after a few rounds. Honestly, it looked like she'd been in a fight. She was red and swollen under her right eye and and her lip was puffed up like it had been punched hard. Besides that, she had bites on the back of her neck, her hands, arms, feet and legs. Needless to say, as I tried to move her she woke up and was very uncomfortable.

I decided she needed a quick bath to rinse the sweat and dust from a long day of play and to soothe the bites. But someone had accidentally turned off the water heater so there was only cold water. I quickly boiled a kettle to pour into the tub and she had a brief but helpful rinsing before we applied cream to all the most itchy and inflamed bites.

She woke up this morning feeling better.

When I went to make popcorn the other evening I noticed a few weevils mixed in among the kernels. I picked out the two I saw but figured that the boiling oil would kill them and they'd drop to the bottom of the pan. Sure enough, a couple did just that. If we did inadvertently eat any, they didn't seem to do us any harm. But I did store the remainder of the popcorn kernels in the freezer so as to kill off any other wildlife :-)

Yesterday a large locust/grasshopper thing (close to 3 inches long) landed near our terrier, Charlotte. She ate it!

Often when I open the cupboards a little herd of cockroaches scatters away from the light. That's when I think of Brian Heasley and his family in Ibiza. Our working environments are so totally different but it's nice to know we think of each other when we see cockroaches :-)

Room to Dance

We've looked at 22 houses so far all around Arusha. Some have been palatial and glitzy and totally ridiculous. Some have been really run-down and horrible. There are a couple of possibilities but we just haven't quite felt right about one yet.

Tammy, our teammate, says we need a house where we can--

"...be organized, creative, hospitable, keep our sanity and have room to dance."

Yes, room to dance :-)

May it be so.

PS That's Dancing Nelly in the photo :-)

Parents that Bless

This morning I'm thinking about how grateful I am for our parents who send us off to far places with their love.

It can't be easy to have us wandering the globe these last twenty-something years. But they grace us with their support, encouragement and blessings.

We pull up stakes and pack up the grandkids and follow what we believe to the be the road opening before us. And they wave us off with hugs and prayers, telling us in many ways that they believe we're doing the right thing.

Maybe it was easier when we were younger and they were younger. Maybe not. Either way, I am so deeply thankful for the blessing of their affirmation.

To Byron's dad in Florida, and his Mama there who would bless us if her mind was clear but can't, and to my folks in California: thank you for cheering us on and covering us in prayer. Your blessing brings peace, a sense of Shalom, in our lives.

Mud and Monkeys

We got stuck in the mud today. Sunk the back right wheel almost to the axle and had to use the winch to pull ourselves out. Ha ha! What a silly way to start the day. It looks so normal to me to see Byron working on getting out of a mud hole.

Trevor was totally chuffed about it. In the deepest part of his brain lie layers and layers of memories of mud holes we have been stuck in through the years. As we climbed back into the car he said "Well, it's been a great morning so far!"

If the winching from the mud made him happy, the monkeys in the trees above us made me smile. Too many times in Europe I would see a little movement in a tree and expect a monkey to be the movement-maker. So I was glad to see the little Vervet looking down at me.

Since we got here on Tuesday evening last we've looked at 19 houses, opened a bank account, filled out the paper work for driver's licenses, explored the tiny grocery store a few times, sent off official documents to Dar es Salaam so that our shipments can clear when they get into port, met about a-bazillion people, had two over-night guests and successfully imported one cheeky Jack Russell terrier into the country.

I think that's pretty good for the first week :-)

Home... What is that Exactly?

During the last 8 months in the States, Heather would sometimes cry and say she wanted to go home. She didn't mean she wanted to go back to Portugal, though she did miss it.

Colin would sometimes question her about it but I knew exactly what she meant. She wanted a room where she could put all her things away. She wanted to pick the color of the walls. But mostly, she wanted a space in which our family felt "at home."

It's 3am and I'm wide awake because California still dictates to me when I should feel wakeful. In this wee hour of the morning, I have been worrying about "home."

We need a house in the next few weeks. We need one sooner than later and it needs to be fairly near to our dear teammates, Peter and Tammy. Complicate that with the fact that they will be leaving the place they live in by the end of November and looking for a new place so the new place will need to be fairly near us, wherever that is. And there is not a vast array of options here.

I open my eyes into the darkness and wonder if God can handle all the details. Will our container of furniture and household goods arrive from Portugal at the right time for moving into the phantom house we haven't found yet? Must I adjust my expectations to fit closer to one house we saw yesterday which I thought was really substandard? Is it ok that I want something that feels pleasant to me? Are we nuts for "jumping into thin air" as my friend Ruth in Belfast called it, hoping that God will catch us by finding us a place and opening the way into this new life before us? Were we wrong to think that's really the only way we could do it?

You would think that after so very many years of experiencing how the Lord watches over our details as we follow him into the adventure, well, you would think I would be an old pro at trusting. You would think.

But I get to this place of thinking I have expended all his favor and grace and detail-watching. I assume He doesn't have time for this anymore.

Of all the things I love about Africa (and there are many I don't love as well) the one I love the most is the way it makes me feel my desperation for the Lord. The housing issue is complicated and challenging, but OH MY WORD, that's nothing compared to the issues of poverty and spiritual need. Just thinking about living here during our last couple of weeks in the States put me in that aware-of-my-desperation state. I would be running errands and find myself muttering prayers under my breath the whole way. Mysterious heart prayers that my spirit churned with. I trusted that the Lord understood them. It felt good to connect in that intimate place where words don't have to be intelligible.

So I have no idea where we'll be unpacking our bags. I long to unpack them, that's true. I can't picture home yet, but I sense I'm getting closer.

I dream about a house but as for home, I think this place under His wing is it.

Nominated: Me

So Nelly nominated me for the best Mommy Blog at the Bloggers Choice Awards. That was nice of her! I figure I have five or six fans so I should be able to get more than the two votes I have right now :-)

You can vote here

Here We Are in Tanzania!

And so I begin my first post as a resident of Tanzania. Crazy but true, we are finally here.

We are all in the woozy, mind numbing throes of jetlag after well over twenty four hours of door-to-door travel. We've changed ten time zones.

Let me just give you the quotes that stand out in my mind from this journey...

Late at night before our departure, Byron briefs Jesse (20) who will spend a night in Nairobi on his way here in a few weeks:

"Staying alone at a hotel in Nairobi you will be approached by prostitutes. Probably lots of them. Remember, prostitutes are people just like anyone else. Be nice, polite and firm that you are NOT interested."

Standing in line at check-in Colin (13) comments:

"Man, living in America was hard. This is the day I've been waiting for. It's like my reward."

A woman traveler at security who was not happy that they took away several large bottles of liquids from her hand-luggage:

"This is RIDICULOUS! I'm from Canada! We don't HAVE terrorism in CANADA!"

On the second flight when Colin and Heather woke up and realized we were over Africa they looked out the window eagerly. Heather (8) looked back at Colin with very bright eyes and said:

"Colin! We're going HOME!"

This morning Colin asked:

"Does it seem like people are more friendly here?" When I responded positively he said, "It's a whole different world--more heavenly."

Trevor (17), who traveled via a cheaper route and got in 18 hours after us, keeps looking around and saying:

"I'm so happy. I'm SO HAPPY!"

Had to get those down before I forgot them. That's all from my foggy brain.

Thanks for traveling with us :-)

Leavin' on a Jet Plane (Or...Two Tickets to Paradise)

Six tickets to Tanzania, actually.

No time to write. Just to say we depart from LA in about twelve hours.

I'll write again from the other side :-)

Oh!

Haircut

So I got my hair cut today, but that's not very newsworthy.

What's worthy of note is that Trevor got his hair cut. Or, I should say, HE cut his hair off.

If you're in need of a smile, watch the video below of the self-inflicted haircut.

It's short and sweet, video and haircut alike :-)

Sweet Hair Cut

Add to My Profile | More Videos

Tears... ( or, Learning How to Pray)

Today I received an update from my friend, Tamara.

I think I will not try to explain the long story but just tell you that the last two years of life for her and her extended family have been unbelievably difficult.

Reading Tamara's words made my eyes fill up with tears. I am out of words when it comes to prayers for their situation.

But the tears were cool on my cheek and I just let them sit there.

Today, fresh quiet tears are my prayers.

Kansas Anymore

Several severe tornadoes have hit Kansas in the last few days.



I see the photos of flattened homes. The little town of Greensburg is practically wiped off the face of those wide plains.

News like this touches us momentarily and then we move on. There is so much disaster everywhere... can't just bog down, life carries on.

But I can't numb myself to this one because friends of ours live in Greensburg. Tim and Deanne Garrett lost their home, their garage, their two cars.

Thankfully, their family is safe. All their stuff, though, is gone.

I remember our house fire almost fifteen years ago. I remember the weird almost euphoric feeling of realizing I owned just about nothing. There is something very nice about that.

But I also remember the grief of little treasures lost. I think about the photographs that must be gone... photos of their boys, their years in Ireland and Scotland, their wedding. I think about journals and letters, paintings and drawings that the guys would have done when they were little... Then there's all the practical stuff too: book keeping and banking records, birth certificates, passports... just the whole lot.

My last post was called Thoughts Amid the Rubble but it should have just been Thoughts Amid the Mess. Greensburg understands rubble.

I pray for the Garretts as I pack.

Thoughts Amid the Rubble

When Heather was little she wore red sparkly shoes.

She loved them.

She would wear garish clashing socks with them with much enthusiasm and joy.

Today I pick through socks at the bottom of drawers and scraps of paper on the bedside table. Mate-less socks, receipts not filed away properly, drawings from Heather, books I intend to read, a card from Dana.... they clutter these two bedrooms on the ground floor at Mom and Dad's.

I work my way though it all, slowly, heavily, not very efficiently. I wonder to myself how we amass such a lot of mess in 8 months of living here. It's time to clear it out, pack up what's needed, try to put these rooms back in order before we leave.

The little piles, the scraps of this and that, they jiggle memories loose from the corners of my mind. These goodbye notes from Heather's friends... My first grade class in Sweden that I left early as we moved to England...

I ponder the past and wonder at the future as I sort and pack these traces of our lives, sighing as I look for a place to save Heather's tiny red shoes.

Round Here

I like that Round Here song by Counting Crows.

That song, however, has nothing to do with my post. I was just thinking about our "round here."

Monday was quite a day for the Borden offspring.

Offspring #1: Jesse took three big final exams up at Westmont. Yay, Jesse! You are now officially finished with your second year!

Offspring #2: Trevor got his driver's license (!) with his right ear still deaf from the ear infection. (We worried he wouldn't be able to hear the examiner sitting on his right and giving him instructions like, "Turn left at the next intersection.") He's happy! Good job, Truby!

Offspring #3 and #4: Colin and Heather and I spent two hours at the Department of Public Health. We needed to get them caught up with vaccinations before we get back to Africa so Colin got three jabs and Heather got FIVE! She was VERY brave until the 4th jab and then she had a little cry. More tears with the 5th, which, I understand, stung quite badly. Colin was brave throughout, as is his norm. Nicely done, Col and Heath!

Heather has been informing people quite brazenly that she now has five diseases! Well, hopefully she does NOT. Monday we go back for Yellow Fever and the oral Typhoid med. Jesse (Offspring #1) will have to have those too.

Well, that's "round here" for now...