This is Life

     This is going to be a hodgepodge blog. For once I do not need to fill you in on a holiday, so I am going to give you a little peek into my everyday life. Hold onto your hats.

     As a farmer’s daughter, I know to discuss the weather first.

     It is actually the cold, dry season right now. It feels like Fall in the mornings, Summer in the afternoons, and Spring in the evenings. I love it. The air is crisp in the mornings so the jackets and coats have come out of storage. The Africans really bundle up but it is probably in the lower 60s. By the time the sun is at full power it gets pretty toasty. Then it starts to set and the temperature turns to mellow, glowing warmth.

It is incredibly dry so red dust is constantly coating your skin, getting in your eyes, and creating a carpet over every exposed surface. Clando drivers on their motos sport dust masks and a thick layer of dust on their hair and eyelashes. Sometimes trucks spray water in particularly dry places. I don’t know where they are getting the water because our family has been forced to leave the compound to find enough water for 6 people. The wells are low, and probably will be for a while. This isn’t dire, just inconvenient. Dry is normal for Chad. Chapstick has become my new best friend.

     My mornings usually start a little before 7am when the house help arrives and the kids in my family leave for school. It is impossible to sleep through morning noise because my windows are just screens (luxury!) and shutters. I drink very sweet tea and eat bread for breakfast. Most days I hop on the back of my host father’s moto and take a 15 – 20 minute ride to Altonodji. If I am not teaching, I am speaking poor French or English with the other teachers, preparing lessons, or shaking hands with fascinated kindergarteners. The school day ends around one, and I head for home around 2.

     Lunch is sometimes as late as 4:00, though we all eat at different times and in different places. I usually eat with my host father (known to the community as Papa Joe) in the house. This meal is always boule with some sort of sauce that I eat with my hands. Then the rest of the afternoon is for naps, homework, and socializing. I made friends with a Danish nurse at the hospital across town and we like to get together for smoothies or internet time at the cyber café. There are also volleyball games twice a week at the church that I try to wiggle my way into.

     It starts to get dark around 5:30 or 6:00 so I have to find my shower water before then. If the tanks at our house are full the water will be warm from sitting in the sun. Right now, that is a good thing because the evenings are cool. After a bucket shower I can prop up at flash light in my room and try to work, but most evenings I sit on my carpet and listen to books on my ipod. (A huge thank you to my brother for that foresight.) Sometimes I will perch on the edge of the kitchen and watch my host sister prepare supper, but the mosquitoes are a problem. We eat by lamplight at 7:30 or 8:00 (usually something other than boule, which is nice), and then finish the evening by praying and singing together at 9:00. By that time it has been dark for over three hours and I am ready to pass out.

     So that is a day in the life of Kelsey. Of course every day has its own unique moments. For example, I have malaria again so that has thrown a little wrench into my schedule. Thankfully, it is just a light case so I am still functioning. And this last week on was on the Chadian radio doing some advertising for the English speaking classes at CENTRAM. Didn't expect that.

I realize that people at home enjoy hearing actual stories so I will leave you with a highlight of my week.

       The first and last teacher of the day prays with his or her class. I finish of my Saturdays with a short English prayer in my younger class. This last week I finally wrote out my prayer and I noticed that some kids copied it down. I always ask the students if they want to pray but they always turn me down. But on Saturday one girl, my best and most quiet student, raised her hand, stood up, and prayed a flawless English prayer. I can’t tell you how surprised and proud I was. Busting my buttons, you might say. So even when it feels like I am completely useless over here, there are moments of absolute accomplishment.

     

Here is your picture, Mom! This is Dadi and me in my classroom. The photo was taken by a very talented MCC photographer.

  Wishing you all the best!

Kelsey's Christmas

Well, it was hard to believe, but Christmas came.

 Somehow or other, it came just the same. How could it be so? It came without ribbons! It came without tags! It came without packages, boxes or bags!

 It came without carols! It came without snow! It came without that Christmas-light-glow! It also came without candy canes, candles, or cookies. It came without Christmas concerts and Yultide meals. It came without presents or stocking stuffers. It came without electricity. It came without water. And the biggest difference – it came without my American family. How can Christmas come without all of those things?

Unlike the United States, Chad does not celebrate Christmas for a whole month before the actual day. Chad celebrates Christmas Eve and the 25^th, and then they move on. On one hand, this was a relief. It is hard to be away from home for the holidays (I think I mentioned this in the last blog) and I wasn’t looking forward to moping around on Christmas. On the other hand, it really didn’t feel like Christmas was actually here. For me, Christmas was a season instead of a few days off work. But the day approached and I celebrated Christmas Chadian style, as different as it was from my usual South Dakota Christmas.

Village Altonodji wrapped up its first trimester on the 20^th with a short gathering at the school for the presentation of bulletins (something like reports cards that the teachers put together by hand – no computer help here!) Most of the orphans headed off to spend their vacation with their extended families, leaving just a handful behind to celebrate Christmas at the orphanage.

When I got home from school that day there were three little boys sitting in our yard. They were going to spend the night and then catch a ride to N’Djamena the next day. I couldn’t believe how still they sat the entire afternoon and evening, speaking in whispers and staying out of everyone’s way. I’ve seen other Chadian children do the same thing, and I still can’t figure out if they have been trained to be motionless for hours on end, or if it a cultural expectation, or if some kids are just that shy. I didn’t seem natural to me and my heart went out to them (what if they were lonely or scared??), so the next morning I got out a French comic book and nonchalantly sat down in a chair to read. Slowly, like stray kittens smelling food in your hand, they crept up next to me to read also. Once our book was finished, I fished out crayons and a coloring book I had brought with me and we colored 101 Dalmatians, Simba, and some Aristocats. I was beyond delighted when they unconsciously relaxed, started to giggle at each others’ color choices, and made the little clicks and snaps that all little boys make. That may have been the highlight of my Christmas vacation, and the little guys (Charles, Samuel, and Klaton) left with most of my coloring book.

The Church put on something like a talent show for a few nights before Christmas day. The choir sang well-known songs, children recited poetry in a Baptist-preacher-style, and teenage girls performed choreographed dances. It was very entertaining and very different than Salem-Zion’s Christmas program. The sound system was louder and fuzzier, the atmosphere was livelier, and it was held outside so we had stars instead of candles to send us home. However, on Christmas Eve after our evening prayers, I sat on the swing outside our house, looked up at Orion’s belt in the stars, and sang Peace Peace quietly to myself. Because no Christmas of mine is complete without that song. I am happy to say that this was the only time I almost teared up during the whole week.

Christmas day meant a packed Church with many singing groups. I think most of these groups were families because they wore matching outfits in traditional bright patterns. It was fun, very long, and a little embarrassing because my host mother kept pushing me (the only white person in a congregation of over a thousand) to the front to take pictures.

My host sister was away visiting family and my mother works at the church, so my host brother and I were given the assignment of making lunch. I am ignorant when it comes to cooking in Chad, and Rondouba is a boy, so traditionally he doesn’t cook. Together we made an attempt at omelets to eat with bread. There was a big mess, lots of shoulder shrugs (“Is this how Mama does it?” “Beats me.”), and lots of laughs. For those of you who think that omelets are super easy, remember we don’t have a stove, the pan was actually a bowl, we flip and stir with a big knife, and I had to cut the onion in my hand because we don’t have a cutting board. I was actually very proud of our Christmas lunch.

Chadians also do not really give out gifts, but the children go from house to house, sometimes dressed up and pounding on drums, to get candy and money from their neighbors. We got some visitors who were just as eager to gawk at me as to collect their bonbons.

And that was my Christmas day. Not bad at all, but definitely not the Christmas I was used to. I saw a little more of the western Christmas when I went to N’Djamena to spend a few days with the MCC Reps, Jon and Angela, their four children, and Angela’s parents. After a long bus ride from Moundou, I walked into a house with English speakers, a Christmas tree, and presents! Aside from a MCC T-shirt and rice crispy treats, I got packets of baking powered and ranch seasoning for Christmas. I was incredibly satisfied.

I arrived home yesterday evening and am now spending my evening with my host parents, sipping Pepsi and munching on little cookies. The power is on for the first time in three weeks (although it is off in my room due to a small and harmless fire in my ceiling) and we are enjoying lights and the French news. The new year arrives in a few hours, and the Christmas season is about over. It was strange Christmas, but overall, I am content.

You probably know how I am going to end this, and in Chad I feel the Grinch’s words ring more true than anywhere else.

"Maybe Christmas," he thought, "doesn't come from a store. Maybe Christmas… perhaps… means a little bit more."

Christmas definitely was not from a store this year, and that reality pointed to what makes Christmas “a little bit more.” My family and friends are far away, but in these last few months my heart has grown another size to fit in another set of family, friends, and children. I have had the opportunity to celebrate Jesus’ birth with them, and although Christmas day was lower key than other years, this community intentionally includes Christ in their everyday lives. I feel blessed to spend 2014 with them, overcoming challenges, celebrating accomplishments, and building relationships.

 Merry Christmas to all of you, and a Happy, Happy New Year!