One Year Later.

It has been a little over a year.


A little over a year since I set foot on foreign soil for the first time. I remember the anxious, excited, elated, thrilled feeling of getting to embark on a grand adventure.

In some ways, it feels like that experience was ages ago, buried beneath the world of university and adaptation to an entirely new culture of college students.

In other ways, the experience is fresh in my mind.

When I think of Burundi, I am filled with almost a sense of homesickness.

I miss it.

I miss the wonderful people I met.

I miss the rush of experiencing entirely new places and environments.

I miss hearing a language I was slowly growing to understand; getting to stretch my mind by language acquisition. In America, almost everyone speaks English, and there is little need for me to use another language when talking to others.

I miss getting to haggle over prices.

I miss the sweet fellowship and the priorities of the people I met.

The people were relationship driven.
Driven not by to-do lists, but by taking each day as it came. I am sure I posted this, but the Burundians had no word or phrase for "I'm too busy." Life was enjoyed as it came, which was a lesson I needed to learn.

So very refreshing.

I have stretched and grown so much in the past year. If I were to meet myself a year ago, I am sure that there would be large differences. Some might be slight, others highly noticeable 

The most important thing I saw and learned through this trip was just how great and real God is.

He provided, and everything worked out perfectly in His timing. I experienced trusting on Him wholly and I was not disappointed -- often I was overwhelmed with His goodness.

Now I am at university.
College is a land filled with people valuing knowledge (or hedonism) above all else, people believing that if you study and research enough, any answer can be unlocked. College is highly individualist. I miss the collectivist culture of Burundi.

As I am dwelling on Burundi, and all of the experience there was in it, I am thankful for my trip, and the memories are like a drink of cool sweet water.

Another important thing I experienced: the love of the body of Christ.

I received so much support and prayers, it was astounding and wonderful. I was doing cartwheels with happiness and joy.

THANK YOU, if you've stuck this out with me.

decompressing and perfect answers

Life has gotten very busy very quickly.

University has started, and while I still have a great many stories to share, I haven't had the time to sit and type them out!

Amazingly, almost two months after my return, I am still "decompressing" from my trip. I find myself fumbling for a way to quickly describe my travels when people ask.

"You were overseas? Woow. In Burundi?"
"Yep! It was amazing!" 
"...and what were you doing there? Why was it so amazing?"

Now I have the long version of this, the version that requires we go sit down for coffee and I will unload the story in a few hours of conversation. I have yet to come up with the perfect short-version, try as I might. Just so much happened and it's still being processed!

Acclimating and Advice

I've been home for about a week now. This past week, I haven't taken too much time to chill out. I've been busy, just plunging back into "American life" -- VBS, housesitting, all of that fun stuff.

I thought that was the easiest way to go about it.

Well, now everything is hitting me. I am tired, and sleep is a wonderful thing. I am exhausted. I guess the adjustment to a place halfway around the world where the water ph is different as are the viruses does take time. I know for a lot of my stay in Burundi, I felt drained of energy just because of the physical environment.

I was pretty sure that by the end of my 4 months there I would be better adjusted to the germs there and I'd be coming back with vulnerabilities to the viruses here.
I was right.

I am also getting used to a few US customs that I unlearned in Burundi.

For example: hugs/handshakes

When you see someone you know in Burundi, you either shake their hand or give them a hug. when you say goodbye, it's customary to shake hands or give hugs.

So, hello = hug, goodbye = hug

I like hugs.

Americans? They aren't as into hugging, I am realizing.

I might keep this trend up, because such a feeling of friendship comes from as simple a thing as giving a hug hello.

Burundians also have little-to-no personal space. Now I am a personal-space-girl, but after a few weeks of having people in my "bubble" it became a more normal thing. But I don't want to weird people here out with being "in their face"

there are things that are taking getting used to, but I have also been surprised at how many things I have slipped right back into.

Like driving.
Driving in Burundi is like the Rush Hour game.

You are the red car, trying to get to your destination. It's a trip! It's like a theme park ride.

We were stuck in this gridlock intersection for about 10 minutes.

My dad was afraid that I'd drive like a Burundian (i.e. no rules) but as I started up the car, everything came pretty naturally back.


Also, this is my stack of necessities--what I suggest every person bring with them on a missions trip.  Or even to survive the daily grind of life -- no matter one's location.

These books were MAJOR during my time in Burundi.

The top is Jesus Calling -- and it's an amazing devotional. I can't tell you how many times it was dead-on in what I needed to hear from God that day. So, definitely take a solid devo book to guide quiet times. I didn't spend too much time with the devotional book, but it served as a good jump-off point for when I didn't know what to read for the day.

The second book was my journeying journal. I recorded the events of the day in that thing. I resolved to write in it daily...but often I was too tired. I am sure it will be a great thing to re-read in a few months. So many things you think you'll remember, you forget. So this is my way of remembering.

The third book is my sincere supplications book (yeah, I had to name it. Why pass up alliteration?) It was awesome to take notes of sermons/write prayers/spiritual thoughts. It was handy, and looking back on those kinds of journals is great for seeing spiritual growth. I've been trying to keep one up for the past 2 years, and they are encouraging!

The last one is most important. It's my guide to life, my love letter from God. The other three books don't even compare.
My Bible.
If you're living anywhere and you want to be used as a vessel for Christ, you must have this book!

my first week in Burundi! pictures

Because internet was what it was (super slow and unreliable) while I was in Burundi, I was unable to upload many pictures.
So.

Now I have faster internet and uploading pictures will be easier. My plan is to upload pictures chronologically of my time in Africa. The following pictures are of the first week: adjusting, seeing the sights of the city.

So, here are my first glimpses of Burundi.

I was totally discombobulated, but I had a good welcome crew!

The crew

Dazed? Me? OH YEAH.

African puppies! SO CUTE

beautiful flowers

Flies were pretty prevalent during rainy season

Snails

Jonathan, one of the workers and my first Kirundi teacher. Urakoze Cane, Jonathan!

The Internet cafe where we were able to sometimes access internet. Dad wasn't really angry.

Walking to market!

Dad and I walking to market

Lots of "dives". I was NOT brave enough to try these

More strong, hard-headed people walking to market

A funny little monkey.

Grass truck!

dreaming...

I wrote this on the plane 2 days (has it been that long??) ago:

I am sitting in the air, hurtling at 500 miles-per-hour somewhere over Egypt. I have slept very little since Friday morning. I took a power nap in the 1-1/2 hour hop to Kenya from Burundi, and while in the Kenya airport for three hours, I took another nap on the floor in the waiting area on the tiled floor.
I did not know that I could possibly sleep in such a public place, but sleep I did.

 There were many others napping, too. When you've been up since 8 am, and it's 4 am in the morning…it's pretty easy to fall asleep anywhere.

I am finding it hard to sleep on this plane for long spurts, even though I have been so blessed to have an aisle seat and no immediate seat-mate. I have room to sprawl out. Daddy sits a few rows ahead with space besides him, too. I catch 5 minutes of dozing here and there.
The plane is going 500 MPH and so are my thoughts!
As I sit, my mind races with thoughts, trying to reconcile the past four months with what is waiting for me when my air safari is finished.

Already, the past 4 months are starting to feel like a dream, however, I have over 4,000 pictures that prove me otherwise.

I am thankful for this time to allow my thoughts to (somewhat) gather. ...well, as much as can be mentally thought-out when you're overtired and sitting in an airplane.

I have 4 more hours in this plane, a short layover in Amsterdam, and then another 8 hours to get to Dulles. When Dad and I get to Dulles, it'll be a 6-hour-drive home. And then…
HOME.

I have been homesick off-and-on the past few months, but I have become skilled at distracting myself from homesickness. I'm pretty good at compartmentalizing…which is a blessing and a curse. It's a blessing in that I can get focused on what I'm doing in the moment, but a curse in that it takes a lot more effort for me to stay in touch with my family and friends back home.

As a camper at girl's camp, I was usually the homesick one. I strongly dislike changes and I always have to have a day or two to grieve my "losses" and acclimate to my "gains"

So if you see me right after I get back, I can't promise what you'll see.
You could see a Makenzie bubbling over with stories and giddy.
You may meet a pensive, pondering, quiet Makenzie.
I'm not sure what my reaction will be!

I have never gone through anything this drastic as far as leaving for four months from everything I am used to and then returning.

So I don't know how I will react.
I'll let you know (or you'll see for yourself)

In my mind, I'm afraid that I have imagined everything being exactly the same as when I left. I know this isn't so…and it hasn't even been that long.
Only a 1/3 of a year. (though that makes it sound like a really long time!)
...

And now, it is Sunday afternoon and I am HOME!
I arrived to my house at 1 am this morning, reunited with my wonderful mom and sisters and then rolled into bed.

Everything still feels like a dream.

I went to church this morning in a fog, and it was all I could do to stay awake. I was pretty much on auto-pilot.
Now, I am trying to stay up until closer to bedtime, so I can quickly adjust to the time difference.

Packing and Pondering

I'm in the process of sorting through my things, deciding what would be good to leave behind, and stuffing the rest into a suitcase.

I can't believe the day is here.
I'm America-bound in 8 hours!

I have been reflecting on the lessons I've learned, the experiences I've had.

God has taught me lessons, but not quite the lessons I thought I would learn.

Never put God in a box. 

I thought I was going to learn the most about hard work and service.
I thought I was going to learn about sacrifice.

I have learned about those things, yes, but the lesson I have learned is much like John Milton's in On His Blindness (Joy told me about this poem, and it's perfect)

When I consider how my light is spent
Ere half my days in this dark world and wide,
And that one talent which is death to hide
Lodg'd with me useless, though my soul more bent
To serve therewith my Maker, and present
My true account, lest he returning chide,
"Doth God exact day-labour, light denied?"
I fondly ask. But Patience, to prevent
That murmur, soon replies: "God doth not need
Either man's work or his own gifts: who best
Bear his mild yoke, they serve him best. His state
Is kingly; thousands at his bidding speed
And post o'er land and ocean without rest:
They also serve who only stand and wait."  

Not that I haven't done work, but I have been hit hard with the truth of Martha and Mary (Luke 11): a relationship with God is infinitely more important than any good works I can do for Him.

For me, this was a super hard lesson.

God has been teaching it to me for some time, even before I came out to Burundi.

It's funny how God trumps our expectations. I thought I knew what I would learn.
Well, He is full of perfect lessons and surprises.

So, I'm finishing up my goodbyes, packing, and reflecting. This morning I took my dad to Musee Vivant (it's going to be a great story)

My next post may be from America!

Thank you for coming on this journey with me!
Thank you for praying.

I'll keep this blog up, as I still have quite a few more stories of Africa to share.

almost-goodbyes, cooking, and parties

Let me start by saying, happy 4th of July!

I have spent quite a bit of time at the computer the past few days...and yet I haven't blogged or posted much!

I'm working on a few brochures/web updates for the Mission here. I love this sort of thing, and while it is simple enough to sit in front of a computer and format things, it doesn't get me into a very bloggy mood. I don't feel like just sitting and typing some more.

I'm leaving here Saturday morning at 2:40. Only 2 more days in this beautiful place!!   Leaving is going to feel so surreal, just as coming here initially felt surreal.
Also, I can't say this enough: I have been so thankful for the love and support I have received while I have been here! Thank you!

I have also been blessed with many friendships here, and I am excited to keep them going and (someday! Lord willing!) be Burundi-bound once more.

...but this is not time for goodbye. Not yet, anyways. There is still much to be written about.

Yesterday, I cooked dinner with my friends Alphonsine and Whitney.

It was the real African experience.
We went to the local market that sits right outside the mission gate (it is so much smaller than the big one I've been to a few times) to buy the needed items.
For less than $5, we got:

• 3 onions
• 3 tomatoes
• 4 cloves of garlic
• 7 carrots
• one bell pepper
• 1/2 kilo of cassava (tapioca) flour
• one cube of chicken bullion
• 3 large bananas
• 5 mandarins

It was a good haul. We got back to her house and scrubbed the veggies, sliced them up, and stuck them in a pot.

Of course, we first had to prep our stove with charcoal. This took some time, and I looked on in shock as my friend lit her charcoals with a plastic bag.
I told her I would be happy to find scrap paper. She said she was all good.
Oh dear.
I do NOT recommend lighting plastic bags to start fires.
But we were okay (I think)
The charcoals were lit, our veggies were simmering, and we had a good conversation while we waited for our meal to cook.

After the veggies had simmered, Alphonsine added some mukake to the dish.
Mukake is the local fish. It's traditionally eaten whole. 

Annd, the food simmered some more.

Lemon was needed, so we found a lemon tree nearby and picked a lemon.

I can't get over the novelty of having fruit trees. In the states, of course there's apple, pear, and peach trees, but they aren't quite as exciting as say, orange, passionfruit, mango, guava, tangerine, avacado, breadfruit, and lemon trees are.

A lemon was squeezed in, and we waited some more.

Cooking this way was relaxing. It's pretty much waiting, sitting around the pot and inhaling the mouth-watering odors.

After some time, everything had cooked.

It was time to make the ugali.

Now, I have posted a picture and blogged about ugali. I have eaten the sticky, playdough-y stuff. BUT, I have never made it, so this was an experience!

We sifted the flour, boiled water, added the flour to the water, and stirred.

That's all there is to it!

...except the stirring? It takes some major muscles.

When our feast was ready, we sat around a small table with our citron (lemon fanta...but it must be said with a French accent. Citron!)
After praying, we ate with our hands (after washing them well!)

Now there is an art to African eating. I have yet to master this art. I was taught well (enough) in the way of fork-welding growing up that I have lost the knack that I was born with: eating with the hands.

Babies have it figured out!

To eat ugali, you pinch off a small ball of it and roll it around in your hands. You flatten it and use it as a spoon to scoop up sauce.

It's pretty tasty and super filling. 


After our feast, we took some time to say goodbye.

In this culture, speeches are very important. Alphonsine has been a great friend to me, taking me to market, showing me around a wedding ( I blogged about it in 3 parts!), and being so welcoming and generous. I was very thankful for her!

On another note, it is acceptable, even expected, for one to throw their own parties. Baby showers, weddings, birthdays, going away parties...
As I am getting ready to leave, and as I have made many friends with the teachers here, it is appropriate for me to throw myself a goodbye party tomorrow.

...so I am, in the Burundian fashion (though Joy is orchestrating most of it...shh!)
The Burundian idea of a very good party is one where everyone sits around, drinks a citron, eats some cake, and makes speeches.
The thrower of the party makes a speech about how they are glad everyone came. The guests each make a speech about how glad they are that they were invited. And so on and so forth. This will be a good final African experience for me.

I will be sad to make this goodbye 'speech'. I really hate goodbyes.