A Reflection on Advent

 Part I: 

                When we had German visitors stay with us, one of them asked to talk with me about what Advent is like in South Sudan.  It got me thinking about what this season means in the cultural sense.

                There is not much of a “pre-Christmas” feeling here.  When we had an end-of-the-school-year party, we blasted Christmas music; it felt absurd.  Some of that feeling is because it was 95° outside instead of 35°, true enough.  But it’s more than that.  To me, the holiday season is about a focus on family, precious time spent together reliving old memories and creating new ones, and appreciation for what we have in life.  And how do we experience these things?  Through family traditions.

               We cut down Christmas trees.  We get out ornaments that send us skipping down memory lane.  We bake gingerbread cookies.  We string bright lights outside our homes and light warm fires within.  We awe children with tales of St. Nicholas, and spend untold hours getting gifts ready for loved ones.  These are the things that spell out “Christmas”… in America.

                In South Sudan, there are no Christmas trees.  There are no ovens.  There is no electricity.  Santa’s reindeer don’t know the way here.  Coal is a valuable resource used for cooking and heat.  There are no shopping malls, and “every kiss” certainly does not “begin with Kay”.  The Christmas feasts to which we are accustomed look a little different here – “breakfast, lunch, and dinner?!  all on the same day?!?” – but the vast majority will not get even that small luxury. 

                So it feels a little different, being here this year.  The Advent season seems less hyped-up, less significant, less holiday-ish.  Almost as though Christmas might be an afterthought that follows “oh hey, today is Tuesday”.  But that feeling is a result of looking only through the lens of Culture.

Part II: 
                 As I (jealously) skimmed over Facebook statuses of those headed to Cape May for Advent Retreats, I got to thinking about what this season means in the religious sense.
                 This year, I appreciate much more than I ever have before the meaning of my parents’ favorite bumper sticker:  Keep ‘Christ’ in ‘Christmas’.  In years past, I was embarrassed by this brazen declaration of religiosity.  I said, “Happy Holidays” to avoid offending.  I set up nativity scenes all around the house, but was not moved to prayer by the absence of the infant Christ.  This year, I am empowered by my faith.  The pendulum has swung the other way.  The carols I sing are about Jesus, not Santa.  I’ve been trying to unwrap my heart for God, not wrap gifts for relatives.

                In a way, Advent here is a lot more work than it has been before.  Here, I must prepare my spirit to welcome God.  That’s much more complicated than preparing a wreath to welcome guests at the front door.  And it’s much easier to clean a house than it is to try to wipe a soul clean.  But that’s the whole point, isn’t it?  That I can’t clean my soul – only He can.  I need Him to come, this infant child who would save the world.

               So it feels a little different, being here this year.  The Advent season seems more purposeful, more significant, more holy.  Almost as though Christmas will provide all the hope necessary to get us through the next 364 days – the hope of the Light of Christ.  I believe it will.  And I will continue to keep that at the very forefront of my mind.  After all, “He is the reason for the season.”

A Month of Change

The last month has been overwhelmingly busy, which for me is a good thing.  Some very big things have happened here!

Big Event #1: Our Sisters Arrive!

                The first exciting thing was the arrival of our Sisters on November 11^th.  Four Visitation Sisters of Don Bosco (VSDBs) were scheduled to come work here in Maridi way back in July.  But they kept getting delayed over bureaucratic red tape in their native India (problems with their passports, I was told).  So when I heard they were actually in the car on their way from Juba (where they’d flown in to), my heart leapt for joy.

I knew I was eager for them to join our community, but what I felt right before their arrival and for the rest of the day took me by surprise and overwhelmed me.  From the moment they stepped out of the car, I LOVED them in a way that seemed to surpassed human love.  The only explanation I can offer is that God was LOVING them directly through my own heart.  LOVING them with a force and authenticity that could only have come from Him.  To be a vessel for such indescribably powerful emotion was … unreal.  I do not understand why God keeps allowing me, keeps choosing me, to have these experiences, but I gratefully yearn for more.

The Sisters’ arrival was intense.  Their car stopped a few hundred yards before the house so they could take part in the parade – yes, parade – that welcomed them.  I thought I was overwhelmed when 20 children greeted me uppon my arrival!  The next day, we had a school mass of epic proportions.  600 people jammed into (and sat outside of) our small church, each adding something spirited to the service.  The villagers had asked what they could offer to the Sisters, and were told food was a good option.  I think China could have fed its people for 3 weeks with what was laid at the Sisters’ feet.  The rest of the day, they sat as Distinguished Guests on the platform of the school, not unlike queens lovingly surveying their people, as everyone in Manguo Parish honored them with songs, tribal dances, speeches, and a girls’ football game.  I was so happy when they joined in on one of the dances.  It set a great tone for how awesome they’d be to have here.

I moved into the brand new convent with them and got re-settled for the third (and hopefully final) time in South Sudan.  (Momentary pause: I live in a ‘convent’.  How cool does that sound?!?)  In the weeks since, I have enjoyed every second I’ve gotten to spend with them, and appreciate them more with each passing day.  They are so spirited, so lively, so holy, kind, nurturing, genuine, exuberant, motherly, humble, hysterical… the list goes on ad infinitum.  They brighten my world so much with their presence.  I almost can’t imagine what life was like before they came.  And it’s nice for the women to outnumber the men, too J.

The Sisters get adorned with African garb.

Big Event #2: We Inaugurate Our New Hospital!

                The Salesian presence has only been here a couple of years, but in that short time they’ve built a church, a school, a convent, AND a gorgeous (and huge) Health Center.  We held a ceremonial mass to bless it on November 20^th.  A lot of work went into organizing such a huge event, and thankfully it all came together perfectly.  The Bishop presided over the mass along with our priests.  The ECS Bishop took part as well, showing strong support and cooperation between our faiths (ECS = Episcopal Church of Sudan, the other Christian denomination prevalent here). Nearly 100 of our children received sacraments, 22 of whom were anointed - which means they came from the ECS Church into our Catholic faith.  (The two faiths are very similar, but the biggest difference is a crucial one:  Protestants believe that the Eucharist symbolizes the Body of Christ, which he gave the 12 Apostles at The Last Supper.  Catholics believe that once a priest blesses it, it literally becomes the Body of Christ.)

The guest list for the event included the Acting Commissioner of Maridi, Ministers of the Interior, Education, and Health, and the Governor of our state, among others.  It was video and audio taped for television, radio, and print news.  It was (as one would imagine) a very – BIG – deal.  And I got to sit front-row, in the best seat, and play photographer for our community.  I got to be a real part of something monumental.  It was an extremely humbling experience.

                The Minister of Health said that South Sudan has the worst healthcare of any country in the world, and that our state has the worst healthcare in South Sudan.  It made me realize how truly vital our hospital will be in bettering the lives of the local people.  Made me realize how much God is blessing us with the ability to make an impact on this growing country.  And I got to witness its very beginnings.  Again, so deeply humbling.  Then during his speech, shocking us all, the Governor handed one of his cabinet members an order to grant the Salesians with more land (“within 7 days”) to continue furthering our mission here.  We are already building a great Hall next to the hospital, and our next project (with the new land) will be either a secondary school or a technical school so that our students can continue their education with us.  We have the support of the government, we have the support of the people, and  most importantly, we have the support of Our Heavenly Father.  What an amazing blessing to be an SLM here in Maridi at a time like this!

The bishop blessed my BEDROOM!
Talk about a once-in-a-lifetime experience :)

The Bishop delivers his homily underneath a banner
that reminds us of our mission.

Big Event #3: Our New Brother Comes!

                Bro. Julius joined us from the Democratic Republic of the Congo about a week ago.  He hit the ground running, and his dedication to the boys was clear from Day 1.  Except when he is sleeping or eating, he is with the children (and sometimes he skips the eating).  He's already coaching football for both the "big boys" and the "medium-sized boys" and wants to assistant-coach my girls' team as well.  He brought with him a new ball and even orange cones!  Together, we will build great teams!  But much more importantly, seeing how he interacts with the children, I have already learned so much.  Each evening as I journal, some new inspired insight hits me, some positive, others challenging.  In my time in Africa, I have grown as a person every single day because of the amazing people I am surrounded by.  But this Brother, I think, will be a particularly significant person for me to follow.  I can’t yet describe the effect observing him has had on me, but I feel something stirring within me (the Holy Spirit?) that is both inspiring and peaceful.

Other Happenings:

The End of School:

                The end of the school year came fast and furious, and I was put in charge of organizing and typing all the exams.  I got to revisit something I learned at Orientation:  “Even when you are not directly interacting with a child, you are directly impacting and bettering the life of a child.”  Keeping this in mind made me grateful for being able to do my work.  A wise friend once taught me to replace the phrase "I have to" with "I get to".  Very quickly, the one-word-change shifts perspective on everything!  (Try it.  Seriously.)  I will admit, frustration still got the best of me a few times, but hey, it’s “progress not perfection” right?  And it humbled me so much every time I got another exam, handwritten by a teacher on sometimes-already-used paper.  The teachers themselves, the professionals, have no computers, no way to create a simple test for their students.  And here I am with my own laptop and the skills to use it efficiently.  How many synonyms for “blessed” are there?  How many ways are there of saying “thank you God! But why me?"

Visitors:

                We’ve had quite the influx of visitors recently.  Salesians moving around the country have come to spend time with us, sometimes for a few days, sometimes just a few moments.  When they are here, they are family.  And I feel it just like that, so happy they’ve come.  So blessed to be a stop on their journeys.  There is a twinge of the inner joy of family present during those times.  I have felt this way with my beloved Marianist family as well.  Maybe this is how God created us all, meant to be intimately connected with one another, meant to truly appreciate the value of each person who crosses our path.  Maybe I feel this way when I am with religious orders because I’m closest to God here, because my spirit is more open to His graces.  One day, I hope I can harness this Love with/for everyone I meet.
  

Humanitarian Efforts:

                We had some visitors from Germany whose organization sponsored renovations on the school and who were looking into a possible partnership between our schools/students.  It’s hard to believe I am on the ground seeing the receiving end of humanitarian efforts.   More poignantly, for one day I looked at Maridi as they did, with fresh eyes, hungry to take in all that is Africa.  It made me appreciate how blessed I am to be living this life.  They only stayed 36 hours – I get to stay a year.  This has been my dream for as long as I can remember, and I get to live it every single day.  Their stay also showed me that I have come to understand this culture more than I’d realized.  I still have a loooong way to go, but I feel… like I'm starting to belong.  And not just in the “God wants me here” sense (I’ve had that from Day 1);  in the sense of “this really is my home, and I am responsible for it”.

All-in-all, this past month has been a lot of things.  But what has struck me most deeply and most often is a profound sense of humility, penetrating all the way through my soul.

It's the Little Things

The following is a collection of small moments that have affected me in various ways.  The purpose of this post is to reinforce the idea that it is the little things in life that can bring the greatest meaning. 

Spiderwoman 
               A few weeks ago, I was bitten by a poisonous spider.  My arm quickly got… well we don’t need to go into gory detail, but it was bad.  It kept getting worse until I finally decided (a week and a half later) that I did indeed need to go to the hospital.  I got into the car.  And to my surprise, so did another teacher and Grace (my mission partner).  I was not expecting anyone to come along to comfort me.  Ever the “tough guy,” I acted as though I didn't care either way.  But I did.  A lot.  They sat with me.  They held my hand.  When I refused to squeeze despite the searing pain, they squeezed for me.  Their thoughtful caring touched my heart so much.
               A week later, I had to make a 3 hour trip to see another doctor.  Again Grace slid next to me in the car.  Again I feigned indifference but was secretly grateful.  In the weeks after, she gently nursed me back to health.  (Sidenote: she's actually a nurse.  How much did I luck out?)  Never before has medical aid felt so calming and so personal.  Her empathy made all the difference in the world.

The Students Show Their Love

                During the period of my absence, the students at the school asked, “Where is Sista Cait?” and sent get-well messages to me through the grapevine.  When I made my first appearance at the school in over a week, their faces lit up.  They were incredibly sweet and their happiness was genuine.  They had actually missed me.  I didn't think I mattered that much.  

                The first day back teaching the littlest ones, I entered the classroom to a rousing Welcome (back) song.  After class, I stayed behind for a few minutes while another teacher was preparing his lesson.  One girl looked up at me as only a child can (with eyes that could make a glacier melt) and flashed me the purest of smiles.  “I love you,” she said (in English!), and went back to playing her xylophone.  Just like that.  A moment like that changes a person.  A moment like that sticks with you forever.

Whistle While You Work
                I was playing with some children after school when one of our Brothers came looking for workers to cut the grass (to do this, we use “slashers” which look like golf clubs).  He called to the kids but said, “you don’t want to stop your game?  Okay, no problem.”  They screamed, “No, no! Wait! Stop! We don’t want to play!” and ran over.  They happily spent the next hour in the rain, pulling their weight and then some.  Their work ethic surprised and impressed me.  These children, as a whole, want to work for their school community, even if it means trading in soccer jerseys and grass-stained knees for sweat-soaked t-shirts and mud-caked feet.
                 Through their actions, they provided me with an example to follow.  They have unknowingly challenged me to examine my own priorities and to evaluate my willingness to do what is needed while maintaining a consistently uplifted spirit.  What is second nature to them is cause for reflection for me.

White Girl Got Rhythm
                One afternoon, I asked a few boys to teach me some of the rhythms they play on the drums.  They looked at me with condescending skepticism, but decided to briefly placate me.  Little did they know how much I love the pulse of music.  After recovering from their surprise that I was actually able to follow along, they challenged me with more difficult beats.  I surprised them again.  A small crowd gathered to gawk, and I couldn’t help but feel they were secretly waiting for me to make a terrible blunder and give up.  No such luck.  Eventually we decided “halas” (we were “finished”), and went our separate ways.  But I had gained their respect; I could see it in their eyes.  To me, this small victory is very important.  “I am one of you,” it implies.  “I am not as much of an outsider as it may seem.”  Street cred – check. 

Jubilation 
             Yesterday was All Saints’ Day and the first day post-midterm-exams.  To celebrate both, we had a school mass, the first one since I’ve been here.  The church was packed to the brim (it’s not a huge space, and we have almost 500 kids in the school).  The liturgical dancers performed in the aisle.  The best student singers held their microphones with pride.  There was dancing in the pews.  Normal Sunday mass is a jovial experience, but something was different about this one.  There was a spirit of fun that saturated the air, a product of the energy of the young congregation.  The students who are preparing for sacraments were called to line up, and the sheer number of them was almost overwhelming.  All of them are choosing, on their own, to further their faith.  For the entire 2+ hours of mass, everyone was smiling, thoroughly enjoying the time spent together in worship.  There's something amazing about the passion of youth.  If there's a more powerful energy source for the soul, I don't know about it.

Dance, White Girl, Dance
             After mass, the kids gathered in a massive huddle to dance around a standing drum that was providing a soundtrack to the morning.  I walked over and was immediately told, “Sista, we want to see you dance.”  No problem!  I jumped into the inner circle and gave it my best.  What seemed like a hundred children’s voices rang out with laughter, and some flat-out doubled over.  Now I am no Latina, but I thought I was doing pretty well swinging my hips this way and that.  I don’t know if they laughed just because their teacher was joining in with the kids, because I impressed them with my dancing skills, or because I made a fool out of myself (of course I’m telling myself it was the second).  But it doesn’t matter.  We all had a great deal of fun.  I will remember their laughter in that moment – our laughter – for a long time to come.

Picnic
           We took some of the children on a picnic.  On the way to the picnic spot, I rode in the girls’ car.  I think all of Maridi heard our singing and clapping.  Every song sung was a simple, repetitive Praise and Worship song.  Secular music?  Not of interest.  Singing quietly?  Not an option.  The celebratory chanting continued throughout the day and was complemented by group dances.  I had so much fun! On the way home, I rode in the boys’ tractor-wagon.  Maridi got an encore.  For at least 5 straight minutes, they sang-shouted, “We are aaaaaall Don Bosco boys!”  I claimed this title too, despite being the only girl present (I’m used to that, so I don’t mind “being a boy” every once and awhile).  Interestingly enough, at this very moment, as I am typing this, I hear those exact words being sung from all the way up at the school.  Just another example of the faith of these wonderful kids.  Their lives joyfully center around Christ.  Mine should too.

Frisbee
            Here, the kids play basketball, volleyball, and (the king of sports) soccer.  I brought with me a frisbee, hoping to introduce an American game to South Sudan.  It was a slow start, as kids raised their eyebrows at the flying “plate”.  A few occasionally tossed it around while waiting for their turn to play the “real” games.  But it has begun to take hold.  Yesterday at Oratory, they asked me for it first-thing.  They asked for it instead of even the soccer ball!  They split into teams and learned Ultimate Frisbee, which they played for the whole 2 hours.  They chose to stay even after the other games started.  This is a big deal.  I am so glad that they are learning the game and that they are happy.  As I stood in line at Sports Authority two months ago, I didn’t think about how I might be affected by the purchase.  I did not expect this, but I feel greatly humbled.  All I am is a servant whose hope it is to be a model of God’s love to these children.  Oddly enough, He chose frisbee as a way to bring our cultures together, as a way to bring us together.  I have received so much from this place.  Now God has gifted me with the opportunity to actually add something here, however small.  And something that might even remain here after I have gone.  What a beautiful thing.

Home Is Where My Heart Is

Note: Today’s post is longer than the others I have written.  This is necessary because of its nature of being the first blog post from my new home.  I encourage you to read it in its entirety if you would like true insight into my life here, but if you are overwhelmed, at least give the last paragraph a glance.

It has been almost three weeks since my last post (sorry, Mom!).  I hereby vow to post regularly from now on.  Part of the reason I’ve been slacking it because I am much busier now that I am at my permanent site.  But I’d be lying if I said that was the main reason.  The truth is, I’m a little overwhelmed.  Not by my daily activities, but by my inability to put into words what has happened here in the past weeks.  This challenge is… comfortingly frustrating.  The experiences I have had thus far can never be adequately expressed through words [thus the frustration].  The fact that they have such depth for me is something to be very grateful for [thus the comfort].  I consider myself a “words person” – I like when things make sense on paper.  Though at this point, I am at a complete loss as to how the English language (or any language) could possibly do justice to my life here.  But for you, dear reader, I will try…

< Faith >

My days start with 6:30 morning prayer.  Though still a bit hazy at that time, I breathe in as much of the breviary as I can.  Mass follows afterwards.  When I sit down in the church, there are  a few people scattered amongst the front rows.  Then a child joins me in my pew.  Then two slide next to Grace.  Then there are voices praying from a few feet behind me.  By the time Mass is over, there are 60 people bowing their heads.  Actually, 60 children bowing their heads.  They come in bright school uniforms, but it is not their shirts that light up the morning – it is their faith.

There are two groups the children may join to be more active in the Church: the Altar Servers and the Daughters of Mary.  At each daily mass, attendance is taken, but the spirit is not to see who has failed to come, but rather to let the kids know that their presence is valued.  They are proud when they shout “preeesent!” as though they want to make sure God hears them.  Never before have I seen a group of children so committed to Christ.  They are not ordered by their parents to come. They are not brought as accessories to the adults.  They are there because they love the Lord, simple as that.  There is a reason Jesus tells us, “Amen I say to you, whoever does not accept the kingdom of God like a child will not enter it.” (Mark 10:15)

For Sunday Mass, the Daughters of Mary don beautifully bright uniforms and perform joyful liturgical dances in the aisle -  It. Is. Awesome.  The women of the Legion of Mary also wear color-coded dresses.  They wave purple flags and vibrantly yell/trill a high-pitched “yayayayayaaaa” when the Spirit moves them.  I was definitely not expecting the very first one I heard (from 6 inches behind my ear) on Day 1 in Maridi, but now I love it!  The adults here are overwhelmingly welcoming.  They seek out Grace and me to shake our hands each week and to engage us in conversation even though I have no idea what they’re saying and vice versa.  Mass here starts anywhere between 9:30 and 10:15am (“Africa time”) and goes until about noon/12:30.  If you’d told me a month ago that I would love a 2½ hour long mass, I would've said you were being too kind.  But the time flies and I am disappointed when it's over.  
Everything here is very community-oriented and the priests’ homilies are no exception.  They are catered specifically to this town, to its successes and its difficulties.  They are as I believe all homilies should be: not just a comment on the Gospel, but a direct connection between the Word of God and the people.  As an outsider, this gives me greater insight into the realities of life here.

Weekly Adoration is inspiring as well, due to its simplicity.  The parishioners who attend (again, mostly children) call out, “Jesus bless our” or “Jesus, thank you for [fill in the blank]” which the congregation then repeats 3 times.   So simple.  So pure.  So beautiful.  After Oratory every evening (playtime with the kids), 30 or so boys stay to pray the rosary.  I get lost in prayer underneath the most majestic skies one could ever hope to see.  Again, the time flies by as I reflect on the Power that has brought so much grace into my life.  After Rosary, someone gives a Goodnight Talk, short and sweet.  And the boys really listen.  Grace spoke one evening about her most cherished saint (shoutout to St. Therese of Lisieux) , and the next day Fr. John Peter was bombarded with questions about saints/sainthood.

11 October marked the start of the Year of Faith in the Catholic church. Perfect! Because it is/will be, without a doubt, my biggest year of faith.  The ways in which God is piercing through my every being is incredible - He is filling my heart with Joy, Love, and a burning desire to become closer to Christ His Son.  My understanding of my own faith and curiosity for the as-yet-undiscovered grows exponentially each day – sometimes hour by hour I feel myself growing closer to the Lord.  October is also the Month of Mary.  How wonderful!  A Marianist woman at my core, this focus on Our Lady warms my heart each day.  I have just decided to teach my class the Marianist Doxology: “May the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit be glorified in all places through the Immaculate Virgin Mary.”  There are very few things I love more than sharing anything Marianist (“Ask me what my pendant means!  Ok, now ask me again!”).  AND, to top it all off, this month we focus on Our Lady of the Rosary. And  I – Love – The - Rosary!  ‘Nough said.

< Language >

The Arabic I was learning in Juba is, while not completely useless, is not a necessity here.  Almost everyone speaks very good English (even the littlest ones know enough).  And the local language here is Zande (a tribal language).  I’m not too disappointed – I was terrible at Arabic.  I want to learn Zande so I can communicate with the adults and show the kids that I want to embrace their culture (knowing what they're saying about me can’t hurt either ;-] ).  But since I don’t have to learn it, I’m not giving it as much effort as I should.  I hope by my next post I can report otherwise. 

All conversations here begin exactly the same way: “Hello. How are you?” / “I am fine. How are you?” / “I am fine.”  For me, this is literally the entirety of many of my exchanges.  The South Sudanese handshake is a must with everyone I come into contact with.  Even the infants will put their hand in yours when you hold it out!  But BY FAR, my best way of communicating is through a beaming, sincere, loving SMILE.  I have no shortage of those (you wouldn’t either if you lived here).  The way the kids’ faces transform from “who are you?” into “I love you” is nothing short of magical.  I have started winking as well, and this is even more effective than a smile is alone.  Their faces light up immediately (“immeeeeeeediately” as I apparently say it).

< School >

In the weeks before we were given official classes, Grace and I taught simple Praise & Worship songs to the kids - the ones with hand motions, which I love.  The kids get REVVED UP about the songs.  They shout at us, “again! again!”  They’d do it for an hour straight if we let them.  They beam with excitement, and when I ask “do you love Jesus?  No, no, I mean DO YOU LOVE JESUS?!” they respond with shouts of joy and dance with passion.  They now know that “singing is praying twice” and “dancing is praying three times” – I made up the dancing part but it seems to make sense to me, so hey, why not? 

One of the most inspiring things I’ve ever witnessed/been a part of was a group of 72 fifth graders absolutely bringing down the house with a song whose only lyrics are “Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, I love you” and “I want to love you, Jesus”.  You would think it was a Justin Bieber concert in the States (is that still a valid reference?).

We have an "Informal School" where kids of various ages gather in the mornings to learn.  The difference is these children’s inability to pay school fees, which range from $7-$20 USD per semester, depending on age.  The Don Bosco school is as committed to these youngsters’ education as they are to those who can afford an education.  Right now they meet in the Church.  Next year, they will be worked in to the regular classrooms.  I am proud to see  these kids sing the alphabet and recite the English words for body parts (props to Grace for bringing back “Head, Shoulders, Knees, and Toes”).  The nursery school kids don’t know much English but they are excellent at memorizing and mimicking anything they’re taught.   All the grades are taught exclusively in English (South Sudan’s official language), so they learn quickly.

At the moment I am charged with teaching P.5 (Primary School Grade 5) Christian Doctrine.  It’s harder than I thought it would be.  I came here with this whole plan of what kind of a teacher I wanted to be.  I was going to light the fire in their minds & expand their critical thinking skills & lead a thoughtful discussion-based class and, and, and…  Turns out that I have 72 students (ages 11 to 15 – the war disrupted everything about their lives, and their education was no exception).  What this means is that learning all of their names the first week like I had planned was impossible.  It also means that at any given time, 20 kids are paying absolutely no attention to me, and the ones that do listen don’t have much interest in a participating in a discussion on the Gospel of Mark.  They like to see things written on the board, copy them down, and memorize them later.  I’m a little frustrated with myself so far.  I know it will just take some time, but patience was never my best virtue. 

I have to remember, though, that I am not here to revolutionize the education system.  I am here to love the children.  That is my job.  Yes, I need to impart some knowledge unto them about the Bible. Yes, they need to learn something.  But what I most want them to know is something that I repeat at the end of each class: “Always remember: God loves you, Jesus loves you, and I love you too.”  I want them to do well on their exams, of course, but I need them to know that they are loved.  End of story.

< Recreation >

                Oratory for me has consisted of sitting and talking with the children, them teaching me Zande (which they love to do), playing card games, frisbee, volleyball, and especially soccer.  Soccer is huge here, the main sport, and the only sport that the school has an official (boys) team for.

                I have been entrusted with the task of forming and training a girls’ soccer team.  This is my favorite duty.  When I am with them on the field, (playing, or reffing or coaching), I am in my zone.  If I am discontent with my teaching, I am thrilled about my coaching.  The girls are hungry to play.  They once played a 2 ½ hour game w/ no water break, and then wanted to “train” for another 1 ½ afterwards.  The girls here do not participate in Oratory.  So they (as I believe all kids do) need to play on a team.  Growing up, sports was essential to my development.  They aren’t aware of it, but they are learning discipline, teamwork, commitment, respect, persistence, focus, and many other things.  Since Grace and I are the first women to volunteer in Maridi, I hope to be a strong female role model for the girls, if they’ll have me.  They play a basic pee-wee game of Ball Herding but are slowly learning positions, ball handling, and the idea of passing.  The biggest lesson they learned so far, however, is that I will not tolerate any fighting on my field.  A few girls had to be escorted away after a tussle, so I laid down the law.  I have a year with them; by next October they will be champions!  Fr. John Peter is committed to this project.  He let them play in uniform shorts and will be getting them a game v. another school sometime in the near future.  I am excited for them (and for myself too).

< The Kids >

As a group, these kids here are the best I’ve ever worked with.  They are...

- Committed - to everything they do

- Respectful - if kids are disruptive, they shush each other with a "shhh" and/or (occasionally) a swift whap on the arm

- Courteous - no one dares point out something embarrassing (I haven't gotten a single comment about the shorts I sat in paint with)

- Spirited - they are vivaciously engaged when Christian songs are being sung and when a soccer match is underway

- Eager - to learn, to play, to work, to worship, to love each other and Jesus, and to make friends with me

- Truthful and trustworthy - I have never met a group of kids that keep each other so honest

- Sweet, kind, pure, beautiful little angels sent straight from Heaven wrapped in God's love

  < In Conclusion >

None of the above sentences adequately describes my life here in Maridi, South Sudan.  No adjective can convey the true beauty of the children; no adverb is strong enough to modify the ways in which God is changing me.  The closest I could come to putting a label on this place is to say that "agape" love is present here (shoutout to Miss Rondon on the Greek).  It’s in the air. It’s in the smiles. It’s in the church, the school, the playground. It’s in the quiet sunsets and roaring laughter. It’s everywhere!  Walking the path of my life is like straddling the line between Heaven and Earth – one foot in Majesty, the other in Humanity – and at any given time I do not know which foot is where, they blend together so perfectly. 

I am the most blessed woman in the whole world.

Late Night Musings of an SLM

Yesterday was my last day in Juba.  Today I made the long journey to Maridi, where I will be doing my year of service.  I have been so blessed to spend the past two and a half weeks with the community in Juba.  I have experienced so much!  Here are my thoughts on some of what I’ve observed/learned:

On Community Values:

-    People take joy seriously…  There’s a Brother here who makes up songs all day, smiles widely at awkward times, dances whenever he gets the chance, and says that anything you want/need is “no problem!”  The priests joke around constantly.  The Sisters play basketball (in their habits).  I have never laughed so often or smiled so consistently.

-    People appreciate simplicity...  Looking at pictures we’ve taken so far, I realized how terribly washed out I look, and how young.  At home, this would encourage me to wear more makeup.  But here, the fact that I live just as I am (without modifying my appearance), is so much more beautiful a thing than looking a little better in a photograph.  It’s not worth losing that feeling for the sake of a little mascara.  I think I’ll stay washed-out.

-    People are generous...  There is a woman who makes beaded bracelets and rosaries.  I inquired about buying some.  She then made me a personalized bracelet of the South Sudanese flag and a special-order rosary with my favorite colors.  She did this with 2 days’ notice. It takes a full day to make one rosary.  She went far above and beyond for me.  This spirit of generosity is not uncommon.

On the Pace of Life:

-    Time is determined by the sun/moon instead of numbers on a clock.  At night, we sit out on the porch all together.  We talk, enjoy the stars, and sway to the melodies of a soft guitar.  This is how life is supposed to be lived.  We don’t “plan” time together, we don’t trouble ourselves about the tasks of tomorrow, we don’t do anything except love one another in the most natural way.  Life. Is. People.

On the Third World:

-    Exhausted after chasing the kids around outside, I needed to rehydrate.  Not thinking ahead, I filled up my water bottle and brought it outside.  10 kids ran over and fought for the “moya”, and in seconds the bottle was drained.  Afterwards, I remembered: I am in the middle of a community considered impoverished even by South Sudanese standards.  That bottle might be the only filtered water those kids get in God knows how long.  I am spoiled.

-    In the city, there is a billboard advising people to “Wash.  With soap.”   In the US, we’re urged to check for cancer or safeguard against diabetes.  Here, the government wants to get people to wash their hands.

-    The young ones here are poster-children for the heartbreaking commercials we have back in the States, the ones that tug at your heartstrings until you pledge to give $13/month to save a kid.  They wear the same (often dirty or ripped) clothes each day; babies’ stomachs are distended from malnutrition; some have patches of bald spots from infections; and everybody plays without shoes.  I am living in an infomercial.  The thing is, though, until I step back and make an actual effort to view things like this, I don’t see any of it.  All I see every day are happy kids, joyful adults, and loving families who live fulfilling lives in a wonderful community.  Everything here is “normal” to me.  Perspective is everything.

-    I went to mass at what they call the “Hanging Church”.  It was some plastic chairs (and a blanket for the kids) under a tree.  It was wonderful!  People make do with what they have.

On Spirituality

-    I have come to really enjoy daily rosary.  Not only am I able to sit through it (a feat in itself), but often times I find it ending too soon.  To embrace the rosary like this is a cool feeling.

-    Here, spirituality is about community.  Every week, the church is packed and the sounds of jubilation are comfortingly deafening.   The villagers practice singing and dancing for hours every afternoon in preparation for an upcoming feast day.  Church is not a requirement, but a privilege.  Worshipping is not a task, but a gift.

-    For morning and night prayer, we read from a breviary (a book of prayers and meditations).  I find at least one thing to copy into my journal from every session.  To make such strong connections between the prayers and my life is uplifting.

-    Being surrounded by such religious people is changing me.  I don’t have the words yet to describe exactly how, but I feel it.  And I absolutely love it.

On Maridi

-    I am Home.  Never in my entire life have I felt the way I did as we came into Maridi.  I immediately had an overwhelming sense of Belonging, like this place has been calling my heart my whole life and I finally answered.  It nearly brought tears to my eyes.  There is zero doubt that this is absolutely where God wants me.  I am overjoyed, I am comforted, and I am Happy all the way down into my soul.