Cultural Sponge

I don't know if Shannon planned on this week being a total immersion in Filipino history and culture, but that is what it feels like.  We spend our days running around the city, hitting up historical landmarks and catching all different sorts of public transportation.  For the first time in my life, I paid to use a public bathroom. The selfie-less year ended with a bang at the Selfie Museum.  (To be fair, Shannon took pictures of me. So, technically, the pictures taken there were not actually selfies.)  After our jam-packed days, I do my best to journal as much as I can remember.

With that said, I'm reminded to be grateful for this season of fun.  The next step looms just on the horizon.  But godliness with contentment is great gain. Tomorrow will be able to handle her own worries; today is for basking in the very sticky, smoggy Manila sun.

The Day Came

Photo credentials for some of these go to my sweet friend Pip.

(Heading up to the helicopter together)

(Loading up)

(Back on the ground)

(Aerial view of the village)

Extra Weight

My latest in a series of confessions: I absolutely adore stripping my possessions down to the bare essentials.  Whether I'm getting a bag ready for a day hike or loading my gear-hauler for an Trans-Atlantic flight, it's all about getting rid of everything I don't need.  The feeling of giving/throwing away dust-collecting stuff is nothing short of blissful freedom.

Once again, the spiritual application for this smacked me with a massive Fuji.  (For anyone who doesn't share my childhood memories, we used to thump one another in the forehead with the heel of a hand and yell "Fuji!"  It's unclear to me exactly how that became a common practice, but anyway...)  How many times in Scripture are the heavily burdened called to come to rest in Christ?  Christ literally calls his yoke easy and his burden light.  I mean, how much more blatant can a guy be!

Matthew 11:28-29 says "Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls."  God knows our histories.  He has watched as we stumble through life picking up extra weight and worries along the way, but He doesn't leave us stooped and burdened.  Instead, we are invited to the cross where Jesus says (and, in case you need clarification, I'm paraphrasing here), "You're a traveler, an alien on this earth. Why are you carrying the entire Encyclopedia Britannica on a day hike? Let it go.  Carry this tote instead, it has everything you'll need till you're home with me." 

I love how, even in the midst of a slightly bewildering transition, God uses concepts as simple as getting rid of extra possessions to remind me of Him.  Whatever awaits, whatever does or doesn't make it over the ocean with me, this is just a day trip.  Why bother with the extra weight when the One who knows everything says, "Don't worry.  Drop your bag. Carry mine instead.  Really, just walk like Me; you'll be home before you know it."

Budding Botanists

In honor of our final outdoor expedition for botany, here are some photos of my young scientists.  It has been a true blessing to watch them learn and grow and get excited about the world we have the privilege of living in!

Little Piggies

Honestly, there are so many pigs around here that you would think I'd be immune to the piglet cuteness.  I'm not. Not even a little.

Meanwhile, Adobo is massive.

The Black Marker

Every school day, S and J do a portion of their arithmetic on a whiteboard.  They enjoy it and I find they have a higher success rate when they get to use markers.  Recently, however, our trusty blue marker has dried up. It barely manages to eek out enough ink to write the first number of a long division problem before it's completely useless for the rest of the day.

Even before Old Blue's retirement was at hand, J didn't like its color.  Whenever it was time to use the blue marker, she would launch her campaign:

"I want a black marker."

"Why are we using blue today?"

"Why can't we use a black marker instead?"

To which I would respond, "Almost all of our black markers write worse than the blue.  Just use that one for now."

Once Old Blue's official retirement was decided yesterday, J was emphatic, "We canNOT use this marker tomorrow. We NEED black or something, okay?"

I have to admit, I was getting frustrated.  No matter how many times I explained that the black markers wouldn't be any better, this little girl thought she knew better.  She was convinced I was holding out on her for some obscure reason.

Then, in the middle of my irritation, a small voice in my heart whispered, "That's you, Vivian. How many times have you pestered God for the 'black markers' in your life, even after He's told you they aren't any good?"

Sometimes the markers have been bigger things:

"God, why can't I afford to go to that expensive school and get the education everyone thinks I deserve?"

"Why shouldn't I go out with that guy, God? He's nicer than the last one, at least!"

But these days they've been a little smaller, if not more nagging:

"Why is my stomach still flabby, God, even after I've lost 20 pounds?"

"God, I'm really sick of sitting inside, why can't I go for one bitty solo hike?"

"It would be really nice if You could make me more eloquent. Take the strong hint, God."

The days are getting ever shorter and I'm taking this as a challenge to be less self-conscious and more God-conscious.  In the quiet moments in my mind, I have a choice to make: praise Him or doubt His planning skills.    The black markers are a reminder that He isn't keeping details or blessings from me just to be spiteful.  He has good reasons and better blessings than I could ever imagine.  Maybe these shadowy future steps are His way of letting me live that knowledge out... There's only one way to test the theory though:

Go do and do right.

Bucket Bathing

"The trick [to bucket bathing] is to dunk your hair in the bucket first, then pour a little more water over your body before you soap up."

This advice culminated in my accidental near-drowning experience in a Happy Times bucket. (Happy Times are a type of cracker, by the way. We use the empty cracker containers as multi-purpose buckets once they're empty.). There I was: totally starkers, full forward fold, just trying to get all my hair wet.  Unfortunately, I had already sloshed about a third of the water out of the bucket, so I had to bend pretty far to get my entire head in the water.

I thought, "I've got this."

Gravity responded, "LOL!"

In a matter of moments, my feet left the ground and my nose dipped below the water's surface.  Water instantly filled my nostrils as I attempted to recover from my impromptu headstand.  

I'm ridiculously grateful that I didn't fall with an almighty crash.  It took a little muscle and more than a little spluttering, but I managed to make it back to my feet without a broken neck.  Needless to say, this is my first "empty tank" experience in the Philippines.  The spring stopped flowing and the clouds have refused to release the rain, resulting in our water tank drying up.  All of this just two weeks shy of my departure.  I guess it's an experience God thought I needed.

Thankfully, the guys have been able to find the calcium build-ups along the water line.  They have spent the better part of two days clearing the pipes and we should have water in the tank in the next day or so.  Until then, here's hoping I don't drown in a bucket bath!

Basket Case Pictures

(Baskets made just for me!)

(Part of a painting project Hala has been working on)

(The artist signing her work.)

Basket Case

I remember being so excited as a little girl to see what Dad would bring home from his solo travels.  The morning after he came home, there would always be a little treat for each of us kids on the kitchen counter.  It might be a toy or jewelry or a book, but there would always be a little something.  He always picked the best gifts for each of us. I can't remember ever feeling jealous of someone else's gift because mine was always exactly perfect for me.  Dad just has this phenomenal gift-giving ability.

There was always something for us kids, and I'm certain there was always something for Mom.  If he ever brought something home for himself, it was usually one of two things: a handmade, basket or a small ceramic tile.  With this knowledge I've never had to wonder what to bring home for Dad, now that I go on my own adventures.  I might bring him some coffee, maybe some dried fruit, maybe a whole caboodle of things! But I've always known that baskets and tiles are really where it's at.

Four months ago I started on my quest to bring my dad a basket from the village I'm currently living in.  Are there any floating around to buy? No. Does anyone regularly make them? Nope. Apparently, basket-making is one of the dying traditional arts.  There is only one old guy in the entire village that even knows how to make them anymore.  I asked him if he would make a basket or two, and I got the very succinct answer, "No."

Then, last weekend, there was a lot of birthday talk.  'Tis the season of sticky rice and banana ice cream for the kids in our social circle, which is totally fun!  However, all the talk reminded me that I'm going to get home just in time for Dad to turn the big five-oh. And I didn't have a gift.  I mentioned this during the discussion and explained the basket situation.  I figured I'd just have to buy a basket from town and that would have to make do.

The next day, the old guy's wife showed up at the door.  With three beautiful handmade baskets in tow. She named her price and left basketless.  

It's such a small thing.  I know they're just baskets when all is said and done, but God knew I wanted to be able to give my dad a gift like he has always given me.  Once again I'm reminded that the small things make up the big things and my heart is full to the brim.