Christmas break

Andrew, Zarya, and I are all hanging out in Oregon for Christmas, soaking up some quality time with his family.  The week before Christmas we traveled to the east side of Washington State for a Smith family getaway, so we are already soaked up with quality time with that half of the family and are now absorbing the rest.  And so, my beloved blog readers, this is why I have not posted on our blog in a little while and why I will not be posting on it again for a while.  We leave the States on January 13 to return to Tanzania, and between now and then I don't plan to spend much time on my computer if I can help it.  I've only got a few more weeks left in America with our families before we go and I want to enjoy it to the fullest!

I will leave you with a few pictures of Zarya being her usual expressive self:

Blankets

Blanket made by Krista Gross

Blanket made by Mary Etta Zwart

Being a very un-artsy person myself, I appreciate other people's talents.  Several people have made Zarya some beautiful blankets, and thus far I have pictures of her with two of them.  These were taken yesterday and today, so she's 5.5 weeks old in these pictures.  Thanks, crafty friends!

Fun family games

 Are you looking for a fun game to give as a gift for a family with kids this Christmas?  If so, I have a couple suggestions!  I recently played two games that I quite liked and thought were very creative, fun games that worked well for adults and kids alike.  Both games are recommended for ages 8 and up, but I think that with a little help a smart six or seven year old could play them, too.  And there's no reason you couldn't play with just adults, either - as I said, they were pretty fun.

The first one is called "Walk the Dogs" and is available here: http://simplyfun.com/products/walkthedogs/
It has great little dog figurines that you line up in like a dog conga line in an attempt to get the most points, which you get by having several of one breed in a row and also just by sheer numbers of dogs.  You have to avoid the evil dog catcher and sometimes you can steal a dog from someone else's doggie conga line.  It's a quick game - each round is only 15 minutes or so, but you can play lots of consecutive rounds without getting bored.  For the family in your life that loves dogs and games, it's a winner.  Scorekeeping requires some basic math skills, but an adult or older kid could help younger ones.  There is definitely some strategy involved that is helpful and can give adults and older kids an advantage, but it's possible to play without it, if there are kids who don't really get how to go about it in a savvy way.  And since there are "dog bone points" for those with the fewest dogs, nobody ever gets too far behind in the points.

The second game is called "Dixit" and is available here: http://www.amazon.com/Asmodee-5511302-Dixit/dp/B001OH9EDW/ref=sr_1_1?s=toys-and-games&ie=UTF8&qid=1355025430&sr=1-1&keywords=dixit
This is a game that involves the imagination, but you don't have to be terribly imaginative to play (for example, Andrew, a very concrete thinker who is not prone to flights of fancy, did just fine when playing).  It's kind of like Apples to Apples with pictures instead of words, for those who are familiar with that game.  Every player has a hand of five pictures.  When is is your turn, you choose one of your pictures and make up a little phrase that describes what is happening in it.  You place your card facedown to start a pile.  The other players choose one of their pictures that could also be described by that phrase and add them to the pile, also facedown.  The original player then shuffles the cards together and lays them all faceup.  Everyone then votes for the one they think is the original player's card.  If everyone gets it, then that's bad news for the original player's points, as is if nobody gets it - the description has to be good enough for at least one person to get it right and creative enough that not everybody gets it right.  Points are awarded for guessing the right one or for having people vote for your card.  Because no reading or math is involved, it works well for all ages.  When I played it, I played with Andrew, his sister, my 10-year-old niece, and my 8-year-old niece.  We were all pretty even for points in the end, despite some of us being very imaginative folks and some of us not, and some of us old and some young.  The artwork on the pictures is great and there are plenty of expansion sets if you decide you really like the game.  It's fun and different!

Whom does she look like?

Misha

Misha

Zarya

Zarya

Andrew

Andrew

So, does she look like her mama or her baba?  ("Baba" is father in Swahili and "mama" is mother, and we've chosen those names for Zarya to call us.)  Judging by looking at us as adults, thus far just about everyone says Zarya looks like Andrew.  We think her mouth looks a bit like mine (especially when she's whining and sticks out her lower lip, in Andrew's opinion, which I don't think is a compliment to me...), and something about her eyes looks like Andrew.  Andrew thinks she looks like his sister Katie, but since I've never seen baby pictures of Katie, I can't really say much on that matter.  Today we looked at baby pictures of ourselves and now I think she really does look like her daddy!  Too bad we don't have color pictures of Andrew as a baby, but he's so old that they didn't have color photography back then.

What do you think?  Do you see family resemblance?

Smith Family Christmas Picture

This is my parents' family Christmas picture for 2012.  Featuring Greg and Madelaine Smith (my parents, the tall ones in the back) and the Johnsons ( the short ones spread across the front, from left to right: Lee, Lizzie, Rene, Jake, Margo, and Ava) and the Sandeens (you know which ones we are!), we comprise one good-looking family (we think).  The Johnsons aren't actually related to us, but we've been super-close family friends with them long enough it feels like we are.

We had a family fun day together the Saturday after Thanksgiving - food, games, and the obligatory family photo op.  Zarya wasn't thrilled with the idea of posing and smiling, but she managed to avoid totally ruining the picture by holding her screams back for a minute or two.  The red outfit doesn't help hide the fact her face is pretty red in the picture, either.  But she was a cute Christmas elf for a few minutes!  Oh, a very important side note on the aforementioned games: I was victorious in all three we played  - Scattergories, Walk the Dog, and Yahtzee.  I even got a bonus Yahtzee!

We'll be together with my sister Alyssa's family in mid-December, but that was too long for my folks to wait to get their annual Christmas picture taken.  Usually they have to skip us in the picture because we're far, far away, but this year WE were the ones who made it in and the Vikeslands in St. Louis were the ones deemed too far, far away!

Cultural child-raising

Does it count as quality time with Baba if she's asleep and doesn't know she's having it?

Chillin' in her swing, staring at something of great fascination to her (we didn't see anything)

Maybe someday she'll have big swimmer paddles for hands, but she's got a little growing to do first

This morning I laid Zarya down for a nap in a room by herself while she was still fully awake.  Since her last nap I'd fed her, given her a bath, and carried her around a little bit while I did a few things around the house, and I figured it was about time for her to have some self-entertaining alone time and sleep.  (She had different opinions about the sleeping, but that's a different story.)  I left her in the bedroom and went into the kitchen to do dishes.  I could hear her making little noises to herself as she looked at whatever she found to be of interest and hung out in there on her own for a while.

While washing the dishes, I had the thought that I was already training her in my culture.  I'm not sure about all the details of Tanzanian child-raising practices, but I'm pretty sure that Tanzanian mamas don't tend to give their four-week-old babies intentional alone time or leave them by themselves to go to sleep.  Tanzanian adults don't like to be alone when sleeping and I think this probably comes from never having slept by themselves before (there are exceptions to this, but in general it seems to be true).  And what Tanzanian likes to be all alone in a room?  Not many!  Most homes in East Africa have lots of people and not many rooms, so people aren't usually alone much.  And why be alone when there are people around, anyway?  What's the point of that?  In my mind, it's good for Zarya to be alone sometimes - she's learning to entertain herself, learning that it's okay to be away from mama sometimes, and (hopefully) learning to put herself to sleep.  I have a feeling that while those values are important to me, they are lower on the scale of the average Tanzanian mother.

There are elements of personality that affect each person, but a lot of cultural values are learned ones, and I'm pretty sure I'm training Zarya up in American culture pretty thoroughly, even now.  Before she even knows how to talk, she's going to have preferences that Tanzanian children won't have, and vice versa.  Part of me thinks that it's a bit sad that I can't really help but give her all of this cultural input.  I like the idea of raising a child who is not so ingrained in her own culture.  But what can I do - whether I like it or not, I'm thoroughly American and have a strong cultural bias, and it's going to come through in my parenting practices.  I guess the only way to combat it a bit and raise a more balanced child would be to pack her up at a very young age and move her around the world or something drastic like that.  Maybe we'll just have to do that... :-)

3.5 weeks and very cute!

Three weeks

"So, how is it going?" people ask, and the other day my sister texted me, "When you have time, let me know how you are doing with the whole being a mom thing!"  Now, keep in mind that I call, e-mail, and text with my sister pretty regularly, so it's not like I've been keeping her in suspense for three weeks, but she, along with quite a few others, genuinely want to know how parenting is going.

I've been a mama for three weeks and two days, not that I'm counting.  Zarya is growing fast and I don't want to just survive this time and then in a few months realize I've missed her newborn stage.  Side note: she was weighed last week and came out at 10 pounds, 8 ounces (for my European friends, that's 4.8 kilos), so her days of being a wee little newborn are already over.  We've got a big little newborn on our hands...

Most of the time I feel like I'm just trying to figure out what to do - is it time for her to eat?  Do I really need to change her clothes after she spits up or just let them dry on her?  Why isn't she napping during naptime?  How can she have possibly pooped again?!

I have moments when I think that she's the cutest, sweetest, best baby ever and I have moments when I just want her to shut up NOW.  My favorite times are when I'm burping her, strange but true.  She snuggles into my shoulder and is awake, full, and - after letting out a giant belch - is quite happy.  I've discovered that infants are almost always asleep, eating, or crying, so when I get those rare awake AND happy moments, I seize them!  A few of her favorite things include baths and having clothes changed (odd, I know), so those are usually fun times, too.

Nice moments like this sometimes ...

... quickly turn into this...

... and we all love moments like this.

So in summary, it is going pretty well.  My days are now measured in five cycles of Zarya eating, having some awake time, and sleeping.  I'm trying to be realistic about my goals for the day - keeping myself and her fed, clothed, and clean, plus maybe one or two other things (like writing a blog post), qualifies as a highly productive day.  I've figured out that one outing a day is our maximum for right now, and that's okay.  She's a little trooper when it comes to traveling (she actually really likes her car seat), but it's too tiring for both me and her to go out more than once.  I am grateful for maternity leave (I get three months of leave) so I am not also feeling pressured to do translation work right now.  After a couple more months I know I'll be eager to get back into it, but I don't think I could manage to do much right now even if I tried.  But for now I'm sticking to things like "successfully took a nap today" as my productivity measures.

Swaddling??

Swaddling babies helps them sleep, "they" say.  Well, I say "they" have not met Zarya!  These are a couple of her favorite super-relaxed positions for sleeping - the flung out and the flung up options.  Super cute, I say, but impossible to swaddle!

Baby love

During my junior year at Hope College, one of my lovely VerBeek Cottage housemates was a wonder to me.  We'd be watching TV in the evenings and a commercial for diapers would come on with Huggies-clad tots crawling around and she's squeal, "Babies!"  She was just wild about any human under two years of age (she liked other age brackets just fine, but was crazy about the wee ones).  I never really got it.  (Side note: she now has three kids under age two, so I hope she is still wild about them.)

I babysat plenty as a teenager and had fun playing with kids old enough to carry on a little conversation and understand a game.  I know what to do with kids old enough for toys.  Babies, however, have always been a bit of a mystery, and not the sort of mystery that drew me in.

Several years ago in Musoma there was a family with whom I liked to spend time when possible.  They had two little boys whom I quite enjoyed.  One day I mentioned to them that although I liked their boys fine, some kids didn't really do it for me.  The father of the family told me, "You know those two bratty cats you have?  They don't talk or mature and their box makes your house stink, but you love them, right?"  I said, "Of course I love my cats!"  He assured me, "If you have kids someday, and I hope you do, I promise you that if you can love those cats, you will absolutely adore your own child."  All through my pregnancy, whenever I had doubts about being a mom to an infant, I recalled his words and was encouraged that although I might not be like my college housemate, maybe there was still hope for me.

Well, here I am to say that I'm totally smitten with Zarya!  I am fascinated just watching her sleep, I love the feel of her snuggled in my arms, I enjoy feeding her, even at 2:30am, and even changing her diapers doesn't seem like an awful chore (yet...).  She's my little baby and I'm in love.  I can't say I'm going to start cooing and squealing at diaper commercials or want to cuddle every baby I meet, but so far as my baby goes, I'm convinced she's the sweetest, cutest, most precious newborn ever.  She's way better than any cat.  :-)

Zarya's birth

Shortly after arriving at the birth center, about to have my water broken

A baby!  This picture was taken about 30 minutes after the one above.

Our lovely midwife, Nancy

For those who don't care to read labor and birth stories, don't worry about reading this blog post, just look at the pictures and then go to Facebook to look at more (thanks to Andrew, our family photographer).  And for those who do like the details, keep reading!

Early Friday morning (Nov. 2), I was awakened at about 2:30 with pre-labor contractions coming about every 10 minutes.  I could tell that these were definitely different than the Braxton-Hicks ones, but they didn't really hurt all that much, either.  I tried to get back to sleep, but having a contraction every 10 minutes doesn't really lend itself to snoozing!  The contractions stopped around 9:00am, so I thought I might be in for a few days of pre-labor off and on and got myself mentally ready for that option.  I was excited that maybe in the next few days Zarya would be born - I was anxious about going way overdue.

The contractions began again at around 11:00, but were well-spaced.  They were strong enough to convince us to cancel our lunch appointment, though, as I couldn't really sit down and carry on a conversation through them.  Around noon they got stronger and I felt nauseous with most of them.  They weren't all that close together though (5-7 min apart), and when we called the midwife to update her on where things were at (we'd talked to her a few times earlier in the day), she told us that contractions really need to be more like 3-4 minutes apart to "get the job done".

So, we kept keeping track of the timing and I started feeling pretty miserable.  The contractions were consistently 4-7 minutes apart by this point.  On a couple of the bad ones I thought, "I don't know if I can do this for like 12 more hours!"  The pain was mostly in the front of my upper thighs, of all the strange places to be experiencing it.  I was grateful that I didn't have any back labor, though - during contractions I could stand up and lean forward or walk around hunched a bit pressing my fists into my hip flexor muscles, which helped a lot.  It was the nausea that was really getting me, not the pain so much.  With that said, though, at 2:00-something I recall telling Andrew, "I didn't know contractions would hurt so much!"  But to be realistic, only about every 4th contraction was really bad.

At 3:00 we felt that the likely road conditions merited us leaving soon (it was pouring rain on a Friday afternoon, the very worst traffic time of the week.  In perfect weather and no traffic, the trip from our house to the birth center was a full hour long drive).  Contractions were consistently strong and 4-7 minutes apart.  I was quite concerned about handling the pain in the car, because I was not able to sit through them, but had to walk around pressing my fists into my thighs and I felt horribly nauseous during them.  Andrew was concerned about driving on I-5 in the kind of conditions that typically lead to stop-and-go traffic.

As soon as we got in the car we prayed and God answered miraculously.  All my nausea was gone!  The contractions continued, but they weren't quite as painful as before.  I even dozed off a few times between them.  I was a bit concerned that they might be slowing down and lessening and that the midwife would tell us to go back home again until things were serious.

Traffic was bad but not awful and it took us 90 minutes to get to the birth center instead of the usual 60.  It was one of the longest drives of Andrew's life, I think, with the pouring rain and traffic and me moaning and breathing heavily in the seat next to him.

We arrived at the birth center at about 4:30pm, hoping that I was at least somewhat dilated and effaced and that Zarya might be born that night or early the next morning.  Nancy, our midwife, was expecting us and had the lights dimmed, soft music playing, and towels being warmed in the dryer.  She checked me and announced that I was 6-7 centimeters dilated and completely effaced!  We were so surprised!  My waters had not broken yet, so she did that for me, at which point I suddenly became almost totally dilated and she told me I could start pushing.

I was taken a bit off-guard by things moving so quickly, since I'd been reading up on the different stages of labor and had imagined hours of labor and a rough transition labor stage.  I experienced the pause that is typical between transition and the pushing phase, so I guess I did go through transition, but it only lasted for a contraction or two.

Nancy told me when to push and with her coaching me and Andrew letting me grip one of his hands, after about eight mighty pushes (I'd like to think they were mighty, I can't really compare), out came Zarya's head!  When she told me that the head was nearly out, I thought, "Okay, this is the big one!"  Well, the head came out fine and I relaxed back, but then she said, "Now the shoulders, keep pushing."  I thought the shoulders would just slip out after the head, so was slightly chagrined that I had to give two more big pushes to get Zarya out the rest of the way.  It was when her shoulders came out that I tore a bit.  I guess she's already built like a swimmer with big shoulders!  Andrew, with Nancy helping, caught Zarya when she came out.  They immediately laid the baby on me and covered us with a warm towel.  I was almost surprised to see her, because I'd been focusing so much on labor and pushing that I'd kind of forgotten about the actual baby part of things.  She was born at 5:17pm, 45 minutes after we got to the birth center.

After the placenta came out (which, I have to say, felt really nice in a strange way), Nancy spent the next 35 minutes or so carefully stitching me.  It was like she was doing embroidery down there it seemed like it took so long!  But I do appreciate that she was being really careful to do a good job.  Andrew held Zarya right next to me so I could see her.  We called our families with the good news and surprised them a bit by how soon things had happened.  What could we say other than that we were surprised ourselves!

Zarya was weighed and measured and came out at 9 pounds, 2 ounces, and 22 inches long - a rather big baby for one only two days past her due date, so I am really glad she wasn't any later than that.  I fed Zarya, then Nancy washed her hair and got her dressed, and then checked me and got me up and dressed, and we were out the door on our way home at about 8:00.  There was no traffic on the way back and it was a significantly more pleasant and easy drive!  We sang along with a Chris Tomlin CD and talked about what a surprisingly good birth experience it was.  And it was - after five hours of labor, we had a beautiful, healthy baby girl. :-) God is so good!

Due date week

I'm huge!  I'm at 40 weeks and feeling ripe and ready to go.  Our little pumpkin is nearly ready for harvest.  The due date is Oct. 31, and so she's likely to make an appearance this week or next.  I don't think I can grow much more, so here's to hoping Zarya shows up sooner rather than later.

Does this church make me look fat?

For those who can't read the mini print on the picture of the book cover above, it says: "Does This Church Make Me Look Fat?  A Mennonite Finds Faith, Meets Mr. Right, and Solves Her Lady Problems."  This is Rhoda Janzen's latest book and since I recommended her first book, "Mennonite in a Little Black Dress", to you all a year or two ago, I thought it fitting that I post about this, her second book.

It was with some trepidation that I recommended "Mennonite in a Little Black Dress", because sometimes people think missionaries stick to reading extremely wholesome books and that one didn't quite meet G-rated standards.  However, it was well-written, hilarious, and a good story, so I went ahead and posted about it on this blog.  But now, with "Does This Church Make Me Look Fat?", I feel just fine telling you all that it's a good read and that I recommend it.  Due to some giant life and faith changes in the author's life between the two books, you'll find this second book to be quite different in language (i.e. cleaner) and tone (this one is about her growing in active faith).

What makes this book special to me is that I personally know the author and greatly respect her as a person and passionate believer.  In addition, she's a fabulous writer who can make you laugh aloud while reading about cancer and admire her perspective about how faith must permeate every aspect of life.  This is a fun and thoughtful memoir and I hope you enjoy it!

Cooking for a party

The chefs with their big pots and lots of firewood piled up

Tanzanians don't use cutting boards to finely chop their greens

Cooking pots are balanced on three rocks and the surrounding ground is the prep area for peeling tomatoes

After everyone has eaten, the dishes must be collected and washed (and notice the woman reading the newly-published Scripture on the side!)

Earlier this month, the Jita people received the books of Luke and Ruth in their own language!  Since we are away from Tanzania right now we couldn't attend, but thanks to our colleagues in Musoma, we have enjoyed seeing pictures of the party the Jita people put on to celebrate this event.

I thought you all might enjoy seeing a few good pictures of how Tanzanians cook for a big gathering.  It's a little bit different than how it's done in North America!

Life is Precious

The following post was written by our co-worker Lyndy Henrickson, and was originally posted on her blog (http://mkteacher.blogspot.com).  Lyndy teaches the missionary kids of the Mara Cluster and we hope she's still around when Zarya is old enough to attend school!  This blog post is Lyndy's personal experience from this past August and, I will warn you in advance, is not an easy read.  I think it is a sad and true insight into life and the worldview where we serve.

On Tuesday, August 28th, a little baby boy was born.  On the side of the road, just outside my gate.

It was right after school, and my teammate Chris Gilmore had just come to pick up her son.  She recalls seeing a woman slide off the back of a motorcycle taxi onto the grass.  As she drove out the gate a few minutes later, she saw that the woman had just given birth!  She must have been on her way to the hospital, not far from my house, when the baby decided he couldn't wait even a minute more.  (Can you imagine riding side-saddle on the back of a motorbike while in labor?!)

Chris quickly stopped the car and got out to help, calling for me to come, too.  The baby was alive... but not crying.  She tried to clear his mouth and nose, and could feel him responding to her touch, but he still hadn't started breathing for himself.  Feeling completely out of our depth, we lifted the young mother and her baby into Chris' car to rush them to the hospital.

The odd thing was, we seemed to be the only ones who felt any urgency.  The woman who had come with the mother, as well as a couple others who had joined us in the street, acted somewhat surprised by our concern.  The mother herself, poor thing, was exhausted--and already past hope.  We learned that she had given birth to one other baby, who had also died.  She didn't resist our efforts; she was just completely passive.  So Chris told me to rub the baby's gums, to continue stimulating him, as we rode to the hospital.  I could feel his jaws move.

Unfortunately, once we got to the hospital, the scary situation turned into a nightmare.  Chris ran inside to get help... and was laughed at.  Eventually, she persuaded people to come out, although they certainly took their time in coming.  The mother was helped onto a simple metal gurney, and a nurse cut the umbilical cord and examined the baby.  With Chris standing there, pointing out the signs of life, the nurse started to wrap the baby in a cloth, ready to pronounce him dead.  When Chris protested, insisting that he could be saved with help, the nurse grudgingly made some attempts--including holding the baby upside down by his ankles and shaking him so hard he was whipping back and forth!  I can't get that image out of my mind.  They wheeled the mother and baby inside, Chris following to see that they received treatment.  (I stayed in the car with Chris' son Braden, who was patient throughout the ordeal.  It's not the first time his parents have suddenly turned into ambulance drivers.)  We waited and prayed.  When Chris came out later, she was visibly upset.  She kept saying that the hospital ward was the most traumatic thing she'd ever seen, that she was so glad I hadn't come inside, too.

She said the lack of facilities and training was horrifying.  Everywhere there were women in labor, screaming, with very little being done for them.  There was a single oxygen tank being used for four little newborns, with an attendant moving the mask from one to another, in turn.  And Chris said the man in charge knew even less what to do than she did.  She kept after the staff until someone brought a stethoscope, and they heard "our" baby's heart beating.  "He's a fighter," she said.  "With the right help, he could make it."

However, as she composed herself to go back inside, her expression told me she wasn't confident the baby would get the help he needed.  Even the man in charge did not know CPR.  Chris said she listened as the baby's heartbeat grew faither, and she felt his spirit leave him.

As we left the hospital, Chris mourned the prevailing attitude even more than the lack of training and facilities.  Everyone she saw thought she was crazy for caring about this baby.  Even the other mothers in the ward were laughing at her efforts.  The hospital staff, she was sure, wouldn't have taken action at all, if not for her pestering them to do this or that.

Also, we were disappointed, to be honest.  We know that God's plans are greater than our plans, but we had hoped He would step in, and that everyone there would see His power and care.  We had publicly prayed for the baby to live, wanting to see God reveal Himself and get the credit.  Instead He chose to have that baby experience only an hour of this life and then took him straight to heaven.  He knows best, and we have to trust that, even if we don't understand.

Meanwhile, Chris and I were left with a strong impression of the fatalistic society in which we're living.  "If it's meant to be, it will happen, and if it's not meant to be, there's nothing you can do."  This thinking drives Tanzanian behavior, just as ours is driven by cause-and-effect thinking, that we can influence outcomes by our actions.  I imagine that Tanzanians' fatalism helps them cope with their very difficult lives.  But, as we witnessed, the laid-back mentality has a dark side.

Rocky Mountain National Park

A picture is worth a thousand words, so this is a pretty long blog post already.  Picture credits all go to Andrew (except the one with him in it).  Let's just say it was one wonderful, beautiful day in Rocky Mountain National Park!  (And we even scored on getting in on one of the few free admission days they have each year.)

Estes Park

One day while we were in Estes Park, Colorado, Andrew and I went for a walk.  It started out a little bit rainy but we persevered, and we were ever rewarded for our endurance!  The sun came out, and this is what we saw - Elk, a lovely little lake, and mountains.  Wow.  Talk about a soul-refreshing day!  Nice handiwork, Creator!

Translators going to America

The two Bible translators pictures, Mussa (Ikoma translator) and Rukia (Ikizu translator) have been selected to go to the States for six weeks to do an intensive English course.  Out of a lot of applicants from around the world, these two were chosen to go to Orlando (along with 12 others from various countries) to improve their English skills, which will greatly help them in their translation work.

They are pictured here holding gifts for the families with which they will be staying in Orlando.  Their six-week course isn't just classroom work - they are going to have to use English at "home" the entire time, too!  I so, so, so wish I could travel with them from Tanzania to Orlando to see their first reactions at being on an airplane, seeing a country outside of East Africa, trying western food, and seeing crazy things like American kitchens and people walking their dogs on sidewalks.  And, for more practical reasons, I also wish I could be there to help them navigate airport security and customs just to make sure they actually end up in the right place.

Please pray for these two translators as they make this big journey on Sunday, Oct. 7.  Pray for them as they are far away from their families for so long and likely experiencing a lot of culture shock.  Both of them are quite near and dear to me and Andrew and we're so excited they have this opportunity, but we're also a little nervous on their behalf.  Making a huge cultural change isn't very easy!

3st Street (Thirst St.?)

For the sake of the dignity of the town in which this picture was taken, I will not state the location of this street sign.  It made us laugh and we wanted to share the humor with all the rest of you.  You never know what little treat you'll find when going for a walk in a new place!