Comfort Zone

I moved to a guest house on Sunday afternoon and I don’t have wifi. I’m continuing to write, I just was not able to post. Here’s the past few days:

We went to a different church on Sunday. Much smaller, same concept as the other one, except this bare building had a door and half of a floor! It was exciting. Mostly because the unfloor had been covered with large rocks. Not rocks as in pavestones, rocks as in trip and slide and break your ankle. Just getting to the benches was a walk of faith. It’s somewhere up there with walking on coals and walking on water. Once I made it to the benches, I sank down with relief next to my little friends on what I later realized was the skinniest bench in the building. Which would have been just dandy except little friends tend to get up and down and run outside and run back to their mummies and wiggle a lot. Perilous seating. When I wasn’t trying to keep my balance on the plank of wood (does it count as a plank if it’s only as wide as my hand is long? Or is it a slat?), I was listening to a very dynamic pastor speaking about the importance of building a firm foundation in Christ before marriage. Good stuff. We had, of course, spent an hour singing and testimonying before the sermon. The pastor was dripping sweat from his chin. The shirt of the gentleman in front of me looked like he had just run a 5k in July or a marathon in November. The kids next to me had sweat dripping off their faces and their moms let them go outside to sit in the breeze. I had a breeze on my back so I was really not that hot except for my feet, so I took my shoes off. We’re continuing on, all hunky dory, and suddenly, offering time. There wasn’t much warning before the offering, usually you have a prayer, testimony, and song for the offering first. Now in the churches here you have to walk to the front to give your offering. I didn’t have my shoes on and there were only 12 other people there so I would have to go soon. Pulling on TOMs on sweaty feet, while trying not to knock the wobbly bench over, while trying to get the money out of my wallet… I would have to say I put quite a bit of effort into my offering that day. Most of you are aware of what a graceful doe I am and what a struggle I have just keeping my balance some days. Life here only intensifies that struggle. For example, trying to walk down a road is not merely putting one foot in front of the other. It requires dodging all kinds of traffic, keeping balance on slippery gravel, and leaping over large ditches and holes in the road. Which can be incredibly difficult depending on the length of skirt you are wearing and if the said slippery gravel is on the landing side. If you’re wearing a long skirt you can no longer leap, you are relegated to bunny hops and sincere prayer that you make it. Especially when you’re carrying avocadoes and tomatoes cause no one wants pre-squished guacamole. If you’re in the market you also have to check for landing areas clear of trampled food. My dear friends, I am glad to report that I have not yet fallen and that I will certainly let you know when I do. If you are graceful and coordinated, you would do wonderfully and I encourage you to travel to a developing country. If you are not graceful or coordinated, I would encourage you even more to do so because every day you will get an adrenaline rush just living, and it drastically improves your prayer life.

Despite all of the above struggles, I realized that I am not truly out of my comfort zone yet. I grew up overseas and while not in this exact culture, I’m still comfortable with it for the most part. The “difficult” parts don’t particularly bother me. It’s all either quite tolerable, or I just accept it as part of the adventure and move on. Just because my comfort zone is wider than I was aware does not mean I get to chill. Things that are out of my comfort zone? Talking to people I don’t know about God, and actually using as much Swahili as I can. So those are my goals for the week: To truly use Swahili and to try to speak to people here about God. Think about it: what's out of your comfort zone? Try reading 1 John if you want a mild step out into uncomfortable. https://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=1+John+1&version=NIV

 

Monday

Avocados are ridiculously cheap, $0.33. Many fruits and veggies are. Pineapple is super cheap, but apples are a dollar apiece. Chicken and beef are terribly expensive, but pork isn’t bad. If you want to hear the grossest story ever, ask me about my pork shopping experience. In other gross news, there was a frog hopping around my new quarters, so I kindly picked it up and escorted it outside and set it free… and then the dogs ate it. I was taught as a child: “Always be kind to animals; Morning, noon, and night. For animals have feelings too, and furthermore, they bite.” However, being kind to animals is just not working out well, I should stop. There was a bloated lizard floating upside down in the dogs’ water bowl and so I tipped it out so they wouldn’t have to drink dead lizard water. The overweight lizard hopped up and looked at me, quite astonished to have its lovely, warm, afternoon float disturbed. I apologized. I went outside to pet the guard dogs here in my new housing. The dogs know me and have barked occasionally but usually let me pet them. I had just finished cooking pork. They went crazy, and I have a few new bruises and scratches. I’m going to avoid all creatures from now on, except for the zebras, they’re too pretty. Just be on the lookout for “Volunteer nurse mauled by pack of government zebras.”

Good news on my Swahili: I went about the market and used Swahili with all of my stall owner friends and got what I needed with no English! Dutch, Spanish, and even French (and I don’t particularly speak French) words tried to come out of my mouth but I didn’t let them. If I’m forced to talk to people who know very little English, I do much better. I spoke with a student at the hospital today for 20 minutes, teaching each other English/Swahili.

To respond to the multiple comments and offers of homes to me after my blog post about home, thank you so dearly. You are such lovely people. To quote The Head and the Heart: “Mama once told me, you’re already home where you feel loved.” So thank you, I do feel very loved, and at the moment not discontent to still be living out of a duffel. I’m not in the room where I’ll actually be in this house yet because the bed isn’t finished yet because it was only supposed to be finished last Friday, so I haven’t unpacked anything yet.