Siga neza!

Hmm, what is today?

As I sit here thinking, I swear that it must be Friday. When I think back on all that has happened since Sunday, it feels as though much time has passed.
But it's just Wednesday evening. 

This week has been filled with activity, and it has been such a lesson in taking life one day at a time. I feel like that is one of the skills I'm supposed to learn: to live every day. I'm good at planning and daydreaming what ifs, but the logistical living in the moment is a skill I am learning to acquire. 

this week is the start of exams for the kids at Discovery School
 ...and they have some free time after they are finished with their testing. They need to have something to do! 

That's where we come in. 

Another volunteer, Whitney, and I have been planning activities and crafts for the kids. We have 200 to plan for, and we have one other helper.
It took some getting used to, but I'm sure that God will continue to provide us with patience and well-behaved kids.

It has been fun to brainstorm and think of creative ways to utilize the limited resources we have. As I am reminded, there is no wal-mart around the corner...

I had a happy moment. I was able to supplement my instructions today with some Kirundi! The children understand some English, but it always helps to back up what you're saying in the native tongue. It was a few phrases, and I can't be sure of the spellings because I write it down phonetically...

Siga nurupaporo rwoshe.
Siga neza!
Siga bokeboke.

(Color the whole paper. Color well! Take your time to color.)

Here is one of the classes today working on a project (they color a page totally with crayon, paint it, then etch away the paint with a golf tee. Thus all of the coloring commands):

New Kirundi word: Twenga -- to smile

A Change in Scenery

This next month, I'm staying out on the mission compound with Jesse and Joy.

It's fantastic so far.

I'm close to the discovery school and I can get in on more of the local events.

Like Sunday, I was invited to a youth concert. I went, and found out it was a Sunday school choir competition! And it was intense.
(a lesson that worship is a competition...haha, juuuust kidding)

I am used to calm, orderly church services (for the most part) and when I envision a children's choir, I think of mild-mannered children nervously standing on a stage and barely singing.

But that's just my preconception.

Well, this youth concert blew that thought out of the water. It was intense. The church was PACKED with children, it was loud, it was hot, ...and did I mention it was loud? So much great energy used for praising the Lord!

...and this is an Assembly church.
Plymouth Brethren Assembly.
Oh yeah.

It was great fun, and I was glad to be there for it.

Jumping for Jesus

From the back of the church--this place was FULL of young people

Strangers

I love having conversations with strangers.
Though once you start a conversation, you aren't really strangers anymore! 


...maybe I need to clarify that statement.
I talk to strangers within certain bounds of "strangeness".
I wouldn't talk to someone who gave off a creepy vibe.

But I mean, here, the social circles I roam in are safe.
All I have to do is strike up a conversation.
...which sometimes takes guts...
but I've found that once the ball is rolling, things get off splendidly.

As Bill Murray said (in What About Bob):

You know, I treat people as if they were telephones; if I meet somebody I think doesn’t likes me I say I’m Bob, this one is temporarily out of order. You know, don’t break the connection, just hang up and try again!
 ...I'm not quite that persistent, though.


Today, in Nairobi, we were in the store, stocking up on things that couldn't be found in Buje, but there was trouble with the payment method. While Melli went off to sort it out, I made conversation with the bagging guy.
This I learned in 5 minutes:
He is married. He wants to be a teacher, and he has a baby on the way.  He is somewhat satisfied with his job, though it could pay better. He was also very kind! The line for the customer service was long, so he offered to let me sit behind one of the check-out counters.

...people in the states would NEVER let that happen. I told him I'd scan some people out, so we didn't have to pay for the groceries. He just laughed and went back to work.

I met a Mr. W who works with an NGO that sells small-time farmer's milk -- they get better wages for the farmers.

Then, I talked with a Mr. and Mrs. M, from London, England (What accents! So cool). They foster 9 street boys, and had fantastic anecdotes about life in Africa.

I met an Australian/New Zealand-ite couple who were scoping out Africa as a place to serve. We swapped stories of what it was like, and what we thought of everything.

I met a missionary accountant who told me about Venezuela.

I met some pre-med students. They were so fun! We watched Lion King. It was fantastic.

I've met two dear ladies who had computer issues (separately) and I was able to help them! Praise God, because I am no IT person. They are both missionaries with AIM.

I met a church team of Uni students....

And oh so many more. It has been awesome. 

When one takes the time and effort to be friendly, it's amazing what encouragement and joy can come of it! I have found myself to be extremely chatty as of late. When you're where people don't speak your mother tongue, you start to get all of these stories pent up. Blogging helps, but it's great to verbally communicate.

This trip is helping relieve some of my introverted-quiet tendencies.

It is so freeing to just talk to people.

I have been refreshed by fellowship and some down time, but I am quite excited to get back to Burundi!

Visiting my favorite animals

The experiences I had today were borderline magical.

I saw a herd of orphaned baby elephants. They were TOO CUTE. I was able to pet them. All that separated me from them was a little rope tied to a post:

It feels a little silly to take a picture in front of things (TOURIST ALERT!), but it's proof that I was there! haha

 They also had an orphaned black rhino at the elephant park:

Here is a baby black rhino. Awww

Then, we went to a GIRAFFE centre.

 I really really really love those beautiful animals. I could have spent hours just watching them. They liked to give kisses.
Quite literally.
The guide told me, "Go on and give it a kiss!"
I waffled, I wasn't sure if I should, but I knew that when I looked back, I would regret not giving the giraffe a kiss. So... I did!

This guy started to amble up to us

Dat tongue! Woah

This is my, "I'm-so-super-excited-to-be-touching-a-giraffe" face

Today was one of the best days EVER.
I love Africa.

Blurry Memory

The past few weeks have been a blur!
I'm not quite sure what all has happened.
No really.

I was so tired at night, I didn't even feel like journaling.
Shame, I know. When I came out here, I resolved to write every day.
Life just gets so busy!

But from what my foggy memory remembers, I have been down at the Rainbow Centre meeting foster moms.
I'm working on a new website for the Centre, and I'm getting pictures of all the babies.

These women who care for the abandoned babies are incredible. Many of them are widows. They live with no electricity, no running water, dirt floors...
And yet they have this great love and desire to help care for the babies!

One Mama told me, "with great love, anything can fit". She lives in a two room house with 8 children of her own and 7 foster kids. I can't even imagine!

A Burundian Wedding Part 3: The Reception

Apologies, I haven't had time to proofread this (or the post before), but I figured I should go ahead and finish up writing about the wedding.

Following our time acting as paparazzi to the bride and groom, we drove to the edge of the city. 
I mean, all the way out. As soon as we got to the edge, we just turned around.

I didn't quite understand it, but my Burundian friend told me that it was so we could all welcome the new couple to the city.
Well, I hope they considered themselves welcomed as our cars trailed behind theirs.

We then drove a kilometer or so, parked our cars and got out for the last time.
We had arrived at the reception hall.
It was walled and gated (of course, everything here is gated if you have anything of value)

In America, I'm used to receptions being where everyone congratulates the bride and groom, eats a bit of cake, and socializes.

This was different.
It was a large covered area, filled with rows of blue and white plastic lawn chairs. There was space for maybe 350 people inside.
The room was a large rectangle, and the walls were decorated with orange and blue fabric.  In the center of the room were two long couches facing one another. Up on a stage, on the far wall, sat a love seat flanked by two easy chairs.
The couple ascended the stage, as did what I thought to be the matron of honor and the best man.
…I found out that these people were their advocates.
I asked my friend if they were the friends of the bride and groom. She said, "No, they don't have to be friends. They just help plan the wedding and sign the document. They are experienced people who agree to help out."
Interesting.

On the two long couches facing one another sat the immediate families of the bride and groom.

Once everyone had settled into the chairs (I was shuffled around a bit, because I was told I needed a better seat to see) the ceremony began.
The groom's father stood up and spoke for a few minutes.
Then the bride's father did the same.
I could not understand all that was said, but the emotion behind the words was clear.They loved their children and wanted them to be happy.

After the parents had sat, prerecorded music began.
It was a bad quality recording, and if I were the DJ, I would have tried to skip the song. Nope, four dancers came out wearing orange and white satin dresses, with orange bows around their necks.
They danced to the loud scratchy music. Their dance was reminiscent of hula, with arm movements and swaying.

Finally, the song was over.

The bride and groom's fathers spoke again for a few moments. They re-welcomed everyone, and made a few comments about the arranging of the marriage. They told us they would speak no more until we had all been refreshed.

First the waiters came out and presented themselves to all of the family. They shook hands with the bride, groom, the advocates, and the immediate family.

A tray was brought out carrying four goblets of orange fanta and was presented to the people on the stage.
Then everyone else was served a bottle of coke or fanta.
My friend said: "Fanta and coke only at city weddings. Food is too expensive to buy for everyone. In the country, they have a feast."

After everyone had received their bottles, the bride and groom performed a fanta-version of the cake cutting ceremony. They gave each other drinks from their goblets.
Everyone cheered.
There was no tomfoolery, as there sometimes is in the states with the smearing of the cake. It was very professional.

Music began again, and thankfully this time the sound quality was better. The four dancers emerged wearing different outfits and bells around their ankles. They also had circles of straw tied to the backs of their heads.

They went up to the stage and danced with the bride and groom. Everyone laughed at the "boldness" of the dancers.

More speeches were made, and by this time, it was getting dark, and I knew that I should be heading home. I had been with this wedding party since 2, and it was already past 6. I nudged my friend and asked if it would be possible to leave discreetly.

Okay, maybe my departure would not be so discreet, as I was the only white person in the vicinity.

Earlier, when we were out snapping pictures, I talked to a few of the other attendees, and comments were made like, "oh! Hahaha, you are so very black!" All in good fun, of course, and I didn't think about my skin color until I passed a reflective surface and realized my pigmentation was much less.

So, I nudged my friend and whispered that I needed to get back home before it got any darker.

She asked if I had my wedding gift. She said we couldn't leave until it had been presented, and that it would be better to wait until the parents of the newlyweds had presented their gifts.
I asked her how much longer that would be.
Mosquitoes were beginning to swarm, and I didn't feel good about trying to walk anywhere in the dark.
She shrugged, "Maybe a few more hours? I dunno. They might have more dancers and cake and speeches. But if you want, we can present ourselves and our gifts."

Our gifts.…

Oops. This wedding attendance was all a spur-of-the-moment thing. The night before I had been asked if I would come, and I agreed. I was so busy that bringing a gift just hadn't come to mind.
My friend told me not to worry, she would get envelopes and I could put some money in.
I didn't have much money with me, but she assured me that any amount would be okay.
What an embarrassing moment, to realize that you've committed a social faux pas. After a few minutes, she returned with envelopes.

"Ready?", my friend asked.
"What are we doing? Are we going up on that stage?"
"Yep"
So, as gracefully as I could, I stepped up onto the stage, shook the bride and groom's hands, and handed them my envelope.
My friend did the same, and we exited the reception area. We were able to get a ride to the mission from one of the wedding attendees.

I learned that the couple, towards the end of the ceremony, hands out envelopes to all of the guests, to remind them to contribute to the wedding costs. While this would be tactless in the states, I guess it is practical. Weddings are very expensive. 

I was blessed to get to see this wedding. I learned so much from plunging into the culture.

A Burundian Wedding Part 2: The Caravan of Cars

There were a great many people attending the wedding, and therefore, there were a great many vehicles that made up our caravan.

The wedding car

My van ride was quite different from my microbus ride earlier in the day. I had SPACE!
The passengers in the back sang some really awesome traditional songs. I took some videos of it, so maybe soon you'll hear what I heard.

At the start of the caravan, there was a blue pickup truck with a group of guys in the back: the videographer and his crew.
The videographer stood in the truckbed, swaying with the truck's movements and recording everything.

Behind the truck was the car of the bride and groom, and the rest of us followed behind. Our van was the "block traffic so the party stays together" van.
The driver would swing way out, turning our van into a barricade against the traffic. That took some guts, and I prayed that no one would ram into the sides of the van for lack of paying attention to the fact that there was a van hogging the whole road.

It was so out-of-the-ordinary, I had to laugh.

I soon found out that our procession was on a mission to capture photographs of the bride and groom in three different locations.

Our first stop was the "tree of love". The tree of love is where every couple goes to have wedding photos taken. Sadly, the tree is now in the middle of a roundabout, and people don't take their pictures in front of the tree. The tree is HUGE and so beautiful. I can see why it is a special tree. But instead of going beneath the protective and shady boughs, couples take their picture across the street from the tree.

At a Nissan dealership.


Yes, indeed, it is now Burundian tradition to for newlyweds to take their picture in front of a NISSAN DEALERSHIP.
I'm sure Nissan counts their lucky stars for all of the free publicity.




We spent a good 45 minutes there at the dealership. There were two other wedding parties there taking pictures as well. What a scene! All of the people milling about in front of the dealership, which faced a busy roundabout that contained the beautiful tree of love. There was space enough to take a picture in front of the tree of love, for it was a massive roundabout. I questioned my Burundian friend, and asked her why they always took pictures in front of the car place. She shrugged. I told her that she should follow proper tradition and actually take her picture in a pretty place when she was married. She just laughed.

It was, in a way, humorous to see this sight because of how I am used to American weddings. When I imagine newlyweds getting pictures taken, I think of a photographer and the wedding party only. Instead, there was a group of around 200 people that flocked around the couple, snapping pictures and shouting encouragements.

Another thing that struck me was the fact that THE BRIDE DID NOT SMILE. I asked some friends afterwards why this was. They said that it was because the bride was supposed to be sad.
A bride, sad at her own wedding??

She was supposed to be sad because she was leaving her family.
That and the fact that pictures are serious business. Smiling is silly.

After everyone was satisfied with their pictures, we hopped back into the caravan, my van blocking traffic and zooming around. We reached destination #2, the Lake. A group of boys were swimming, and people strolled about. Our party repeated the same process that we went through at the Nissan dealership.

The lake was beautiful, and a cool breeze came up off of the lake. It was quite picturesque.

After the lake, we went to the pubic park. By this time, some of our group were getting tired, and decided to stay in the vans.

What an interesting tradition: to go about the wedding photography with an entourage.

After all of the picture-taking, we went through another tradition. I am running out of time to type, so I'll post it soon!