Hunting and Exploring

In a couple days, some of us adult ladies will be heading to Manila for some appointments and odd supplies.  We will be out of the village for some ten days, while rest of the family will remain here.  The kids are excited because this means they will get a two week break from school.  I'm excited because this means I will get to FaceTime with my family back home.

One of the things we need to do while we're in the city is search for art supplies.  I will be "teaching" (though in art, I feel it's more like guiding than anything) two of the high school age girls through a homeschooling art curriculum.  I made a supply list on Wednesday and set out to find what we already have, so we don't purchase anything unnecessary.  Thursday night, I'm going through the final drawer and lo!  Gary the Cockroach twitched his nasty little antennae at me from his nestled position between the molding clay and finger paints.  The molding clay was my objective, but there was no way I was going to reach for it with Gary just chilling there.  As I debated my options, Gary waved farewell and crawled deeper into the recesses of the drawer.  That made my decision for me.  I shut the drawer and went up to bed.

Friday morning, I announced to S and J that we would be going on a hunt after our morning lessons.  True to my word, once snack had been consumed, S was armed with a fly swatter and J was bequeathed a bottle of Baygon.  We opened the drawer with due apprehension.  One deep breath.  Two deep breaths.  Eventually, winged by my fearless cockroach slayers, I began to unpack the drawer.  The results?  A whole lot of cockroach poo and rock solid molding clay.  At this very moment, Gary is at large.  The only questions is where?

A couple of us have started going on an early morning walk every Saturday.  It's enjoyable for a number of reasons: it gets us out in the sun and fresh air, we become more familiar with the land around us, fellowship...  Needless to say, walking in the morning has become something I look forward to all week long.  This week, we took a familiar path out, but a new ridge path back.  All was well until we reach the end of the loop, where we were met by a lovely standing pool that looked to be about 5/8 water buffalo poop.  With many laughs, groans, and helping hands, we technically made it across.  Sufficed to say we needed to rinse in the river before we made it home.

Each passing day brings a new lesson, picture, or idea.  Whole pockets of flowers hidden from view in the bush praise God with their beauty.  A mother water buffalo protects her young by chasing the strange white people away.  A little pineapple sprouts from a plant beside the river.  Piglets are born.  It seems to me that the details might make a difference after all.  Maybe it just depends on the details I choose to focus on.

When The Orange Flower Blooms

Seventy years ago, the village I am currently living in and the surrounding villages would watch for a certain tree to blossom.  Rainy season would creep toward its slow end and then, sprinkled like bright beacons over the low ridges, little orange flowers exploded into color.  When this happened, they knew head-hunting season had begun.

I'm told it was a rite of passage into manhood.  When a boy brought back his first head from a warring village, he returned a man in the eyes of his people.  Today, no signs of their violent past remain.  The people don't speak of it.  "We are ashamed of what we were," they say.  "Why would we talk about it?"  The old ways seem especially forgotten when, despite the orange flowers staring down from the treetops, we hike freely from one village to the next.  We hike through corn ready for harvest and green rice fields, past flowering bananas and loaded coconut trees.  Every now and then, we catch sight of another tree with orange blooms.  It is a great reminder of where God finds each of us, especially as the missionaries here prepare to share the full gospel with this people for the first time.

God has also been reminding me of His great love through a seemingly endless stream of blessings:

1) Just as I was hitting a slump of "Yeah, I'm ready for a spinach salad, a Chipotle burrito, and a nice HOT bath," I received a package from home.  Of course, the package didn't bring a spinach salad or a burrito or a bath, but it DID have lots of love and cream of wheat inside. 

2)  Then, I received and account statement from the office and discovered a very generous monetary gift.  I inquired after who sent it, but no one seems to know!  My hope is that, whoever you are, you read this and know I am extremely thankful!  God bless you and yours! 

3)  Yet another blessing came my way just yesterday.  When I packed up and moved to the Philippines, I had a pipe dream of learning the local language.  As of yesterday, I am officially in part-time language study!  Realistically, I know that I won't become anywhere near fluent in the seven months I have left, but I'm stoked to learn what I can.  It is a humongous blessing to have the people helping me take time out of their busy schedules to learn a language I may never use again, just because I want to learn.

All in all, I'm a slightly snuffly, yet very happy camper!

TTFN (Ta-Ta For Now!)