Monday, January 5, 2009
Sunday, December 7, 2008
Im back.
Though I believe I am alone here. However, that is not the point.
Surveying up north right now has left me with hours upon hours of thinking time everyday. Good in some ways, not so much in others. I feel like im sinking into myself. I feel socially awkward, i dont know how to talk to people. I always was introverted, but it is becoming increasingly so.
I think alot about my life. What i want to do and see. I think about family. But now these two things are competing it seems, and i dont know what to do.
I dream of travel amd adventure, in both work and play. I love change and learning. I want to see the world, experience so many things, and meet many people. The trouble is I feel pressure to sit and stay still. Like a puppy.
Part of me wants the benefits of a normal settled life, having family close, time to spend, and being able to plan in advance and make the little get-togethers. (and the holidays for that matter)
But the other part of me feels that i need more, that i would be bored or something. I enjoy our work, its outside, its everywhere, its in the remote regions of the province. Its expereincing new things and meeting new people. Its adventure. It also allows us the saved up time and finances to travel abroad, to China and South America, maybe back to Africa. And this is what i dream of, what my heart aches for. But its also little time off to see family, and impossible to plan around.
Am i being selfish for wanting to follow my dreams and live my life for me right now? Does family first mean forgetting my dreams and settling to be near? I do wish i could see family more. Can i have both?
I feel that now is our time while we are kid-free to live our dreams and love life together as simply husband and wife. But to what cost?
these are my thoughts
Though I believe I am alone here. However, that is not the point.
Surveying up north right now has left me with hours upon hours of thinking time everyday. Good in some ways, not so much in others. I feel like im sinking into myself. I feel socially awkward, i dont know how to talk to people. I always was introverted, but it is becoming increasingly so.
I think alot about my life. What i want to do and see. I think about family. But now these two things are competing it seems, and i dont know what to do.
I dream of travel amd adventure, in both work and play. I love change and learning. I want to see the world, experience so many things, and meet many people. The trouble is I feel pressure to sit and stay still. Like a puppy.
Part of me wants the benefits of a normal settled life, having family close, time to spend, and being able to plan in advance and make the little get-togethers. (and the holidays for that matter)
But the other part of me feels that i need more, that i would be bored or something. I enjoy our work, its outside, its everywhere, its in the remote regions of the province. Its expereincing new things and meeting new people. Its adventure. It also allows us the saved up time and finances to travel abroad, to China and South America, maybe back to Africa. And this is what i dream of, what my heart aches for. But its also little time off to see family, and impossible to plan around.
Am i being selfish for wanting to follow my dreams and live my life for me right now? Does family first mean forgetting my dreams and settling to be near? I do wish i could see family more. Can i have both?
I feel that now is our time while we are kid-free to live our dreams and love life together as simply husband and wife. But to what cost?
these are my thoughts
Tuesday, May 6, 2008
lost in slumber
laying in bed this morning i had these brilliant thoughts and ideas. i was goin gover them in my mind, refining them and articulating them specifically so i could share on my blog.
Then i fell back asleep and lost the thoughts to slumber.
They have not returned yet. Alas.
Then i fell back asleep and lost the thoughts to slumber.
They have not returned yet. Alas.
Thursday, April 10, 2008
i cannot see the sun, but there is light
the weather out side seems to match my heart.
the snow falls, silencing everything around so im left feeling alone.
it melts leaving a tear stained face.
and the weight of it accumulating weighs heavy.
the multitude of flakes has me helpless
the burden has me sinking.
i cannot see the sun, but there is light.
the snow falls, silencing everything around so im left feeling alone.
it melts leaving a tear stained face.
and the weight of it accumulating weighs heavy.
the multitude of flakes has me helpless
the burden has me sinking.
i cannot see the sun, but there is light.
Wednesday, March 26, 2008
randoms and rants
Some random thoughts and observations
As I was waiting for the bus the other morning, I realized that a young man waiting in the bus shelter was using a pair of teal tweezers to pluck out the hairs on his chin. I just found it odd. Perhaps he was running late?
A girl in one of my classes amazes me with her perfectly choreographed rituals to settling into her seat. She walks in, sitting in the seat in front of me, slightly to the right. She takes of her pink backpack stained with dirt. Sits down, places her little black purse in front of her. Places her pink backpack on the chair to her left. Uses the kleenex, though once it was a paper towel, that she always has in her hand to thoroughly wipe the desk space in front of her. Then she wipes the bottom of her shiny black vinyl purse and sets it down again. She leaves the kleenex within reach on the desk in front of her. She unzips her pink backpack and pulls out her bright orange pencil case, setting it in front of her. She takes out her pencil and sharpens it with the little blue sharpener. Its exactly the same every time. Maybe it's something like how most people (perhaps?) usually dry off their bodies the same way every time the get out of the shower: right arm, left arm, face, hair, chest and so on.
Maybe not so surprisingly I often have Africa in my head, but one of my latest thoughts:
Funny how some people can become so obsessed with celebrities in the media, thinking they actually know them, know who they are and their personalities. Women in particular can even attach themselves emotionally to a famous person in whom they have never met. (OK, I'm not going crazy, this will link to Africa) I was never one of those girls. As a teenager when others would talk about their favorite star and who they would die to meet, or which one they would date, I could never really understand it. I didn't care about the rich and famous, they were not part of my world. Today I had the thought that celebrities aren't real to me. They almost seem made up. Anyways, this lead to more ponderings about the media and our perceptions of it, how much we regard it as truth, as reality, or as fiction. This is when my mind wandered back to Africa. What do we believe when we see war- torn and death ravaged countries on the news for a mere minute or two? What did we think when we saw Rwanda in the news? How do we perceive what's happening in Kenya or Tibet right now? I find that now that I have experienced Africa, now that I have been there, met the people, touched the ground, breathed the air, its part of my world now. I find myself more aware of distant turbulence. I'm struggling with what this means. Am I only sensitive to things in which I have had contact?
As I was waiting for the bus the other morning, I realized that a young man waiting in the bus shelter was using a pair of teal tweezers to pluck out the hairs on his chin. I just found it odd. Perhaps he was running late?
A girl in one of my classes amazes me with her perfectly choreographed rituals to settling into her seat. She walks in, sitting in the seat in front of me, slightly to the right. She takes of her pink backpack stained with dirt. Sits down, places her little black purse in front of her. Places her pink backpack on the chair to her left. Uses the kleenex, though once it was a paper towel, that she always has in her hand to thoroughly wipe the desk space in front of her. Then she wipes the bottom of her shiny black vinyl purse and sets it down again. She leaves the kleenex within reach on the desk in front of her. She unzips her pink backpack and pulls out her bright orange pencil case, setting it in front of her. She takes out her pencil and sharpens it with the little blue sharpener. Its exactly the same every time. Maybe it's something like how most people (perhaps?) usually dry off their bodies the same way every time the get out of the shower: right arm, left arm, face, hair, chest and so on.
Maybe not so surprisingly I often have Africa in my head, but one of my latest thoughts:
Funny how some people can become so obsessed with celebrities in the media, thinking they actually know them, know who they are and their personalities. Women in particular can even attach themselves emotionally to a famous person in whom they have never met. (OK, I'm not going crazy, this will link to Africa) I was never one of those girls. As a teenager when others would talk about their favorite star and who they would die to meet, or which one they would date, I could never really understand it. I didn't care about the rich and famous, they were not part of my world. Today I had the thought that celebrities aren't real to me. They almost seem made up. Anyways, this lead to more ponderings about the media and our perceptions of it, how much we regard it as truth, as reality, or as fiction. This is when my mind wandered back to Africa. What do we believe when we see war- torn and death ravaged countries on the news for a mere minute or two? What did we think when we saw Rwanda in the news? How do we perceive what's happening in Kenya or Tibet right now? I find that now that I have experienced Africa, now that I have been there, met the people, touched the ground, breathed the air, its part of my world now. I find myself more aware of distant turbulence. I'm struggling with what this means. Am I only sensitive to things in which I have had contact?
Fruit and Valentine's CD's
Many people have asked me what we ate.
Fruit mostly. The most delicious fruit. Pineapple, mango, papaya, bananas, avocado, and some other stranger ones that i didn't enjoy as much. Every morning was fruit and bread with jam, and an egg, flat as a pancake. They also served either coffee or African tea in a thermos, which was kind of like a chi tea, made with milk rather than water. If you left it for a minute it would skim over. And it smelled fresh, I mean straight from the cow. My stomach didn't like it that much.
Lunch we would stop at a grocer to grab something, typical sandwich, samosa, etc, and we would stop on the road out there to buy bananas from a woman on the side of the road. Supper was always at a restaurant, as the team had separated accommodations and the days were long, it was easiest to meet somewhere. Usually the menu consisted of slightly off North American food. Sometimes we would go to a wonderful elaborate buffet that consisted of both local recipes and North American dishes.
Speaking of eating, I have a very wonderful story of Valentines day in Rwanda.
Our team on the last day before our presentation was tired and exhausted from working, and had one more long day ahead of us to pull all the data together. In fact with surveying, Ben and I had our hardest day too. We headed to a restaurant to fill our stomachs. It was a nice restaurant we had gone to before, high up on a balcony over-looking Kigali. As we approached some tables we were confronted with 4 hosts, two young women in short skirts, and another pair in uniform. Each pair was rushing to set tables, directing us to sit down, pulling our chairs out for us. Our team each sat somewhere different, unaware, but finally cluing into the awkward situation that there were in fact TWO restaurants on that balcony competing for our service. By then we had ended up on both sides, and feeling too guilty to move as a whole group to the other, we decided to stay split up and dine at both. Ben and I stayed on the side of the restaurant we had not been to before, thinking they would be similar. Slightly disappointed, the menu consisted of a few sandwiches, chicken fingers, fish sticks and a burger, with fries of course. After opting for the burger and fish sticks our table settled into conversation. Soon our team leader realized it was our first valentines day as a married couple and decided it had to be special. He got up and went to talk to the waitress. Soon we were escorted to our own little table with a candle. It was quite romantic. And to top it off, a group of the guys from our team came up to us and serenaded us with a N'Sync love song. Quite the night.
But that wasn't all. The competitive atmosphere between the restaurants was fierce. A while after we were given a candle, every other table on our side did too. After that some of the guys on the other side took some candles for their table. They promptly were reprimanded and their candles returned to the rightful side. Then waitress on their own side stepped up and brought them their own candles. I think we made the better choice however, we were served first (let's ignore the fact that all we could order was fast food, while the other table had a full menu) Although, good thing we shared the burger then the fish sticks, because they arrived approx 15min apart from each other. For the grand finale of our first Valentine's Day, we were given a gift of a home-made burnt/mixed CD of pop love songs by one of the hosts who also happened to be a DJ.
Fruit mostly. The most delicious fruit. Pineapple, mango, papaya, bananas, avocado, and some other stranger ones that i didn't enjoy as much. Every morning was fruit and bread with jam, and an egg, flat as a pancake. They also served either coffee or African tea in a thermos, which was kind of like a chi tea, made with milk rather than water. If you left it for a minute it would skim over. And it smelled fresh, I mean straight from the cow. My stomach didn't like it that much.
Lunch we would stop at a grocer to grab something, typical sandwich, samosa, etc, and we would stop on the road out there to buy bananas from a woman on the side of the road. Supper was always at a restaurant, as the team had separated accommodations and the days were long, it was easiest to meet somewhere. Usually the menu consisted of slightly off North American food. Sometimes we would go to a wonderful elaborate buffet that consisted of both local recipes and North American dishes.
Speaking of eating, I have a very wonderful story of Valentines day in Rwanda.
Our team on the last day before our presentation was tired and exhausted from working, and had one more long day ahead of us to pull all the data together. In fact with surveying, Ben and I had our hardest day too. We headed to a restaurant to fill our stomachs. It was a nice restaurant we had gone to before, high up on a balcony over-looking Kigali. As we approached some tables we were confronted with 4 hosts, two young women in short skirts, and another pair in uniform. Each pair was rushing to set tables, directing us to sit down, pulling our chairs out for us. Our team each sat somewhere different, unaware, but finally cluing into the awkward situation that there were in fact TWO restaurants on that balcony competing for our service. By then we had ended up on both sides, and feeling too guilty to move as a whole group to the other, we decided to stay split up and dine at both. Ben and I stayed on the side of the restaurant we had not been to before, thinking they would be similar. Slightly disappointed, the menu consisted of a few sandwiches, chicken fingers, fish sticks and a burger, with fries of course. After opting for the burger and fish sticks our table settled into conversation. Soon our team leader realized it was our first valentines day as a married couple and decided it had to be special. He got up and went to talk to the waitress. Soon we were escorted to our own little table with a candle. It was quite romantic. And to top it off, a group of the guys from our team came up to us and serenaded us with a N'Sync love song. Quite the night.
But that wasn't all. The competitive atmosphere between the restaurants was fierce. A while after we were given a candle, every other table on our side did too. After that some of the guys on the other side took some candles for their table. They promptly were reprimanded and their candles returned to the rightful side. Then waitress on their own side stepped up and brought them their own candles. I think we made the better choice however, we were served first (let's ignore the fact that all we could order was fast food, while the other table had a full menu) Although, good thing we shared the burger then the fish sticks, because they arrived approx 15min apart from each other. For the grand finale of our first Valentine's Day, we were given a gift of a home-made burnt/mixed CD of pop love songs by one of the hosts who also happened to be a DJ.
Tuesday, March 25, 2008
Again!
One significant memory, one of my favorite things that happened in Africa was on Valentine's Day, after a long and very frustrating day of work, we had finally finished our survey. Just in time too. We were surveying the top parcel of land where the existing church structure stood, and there was to be a service at 2pm. We had to finish up by then as it would be impossible once people started to gather.
The day was hot and we were tired. I was really struggling with myself. We were there to do our survey which was difficult to do when large herds of kids would follow me around, shouting and yelling. I couldn't hear Ben on the radio which was essential to getting the job done. It was difficult to move around as I was closed in by little bodies pushing to get the closest. I had little patience. I was claustrophobic. I got so aggravated, which bothered me. Weren't we there for the children? They are who we were there to serve, yet I had no feelings of joy or love to give them. I don't think I was even smiling.
When we had finished the job, I felt so much relief that my attitude did a 180. Now I could smile and laugh and be friendly. It didn't seem right that I didn't have the time for this while working. On the other hand, if we did not buckle down and get the job done, they would not get houses and school rooms built for them.
Back to my point, it was after this that I had a simple experience that will stick with me. The people were gathering for the church service. Ben and I sat down under a tree to rest. The kids crowded around, holding my hands, petting my hair, and crawling into my lap. One girl in particular, her name was Olive, had spend as much time as she could with me in the past week. She was a girl full of joy and friendship. She often helped the younger children, and the widows pound flour. She approached me with a friend, asking me in her broken English if I knew a certain song. They proceeded to sing me a song in their language which I instantly recognized as, "Our God is an Awesome God."
For the next half hour we sang together.
I wrote it out in English and they quickly picked it up. They wrote it out in Kinyrwandan, and had me sing it over and over. After each time Olive would yell, "Again!" But I got it. Much to the entertainment of those listening. The older women were laughing quite hard at my fumbling of their language. They appreciated my willingness to learn their language. It was so much fun.
The day was hot and we were tired. I was really struggling with myself. We were there to do our survey which was difficult to do when large herds of kids would follow me around, shouting and yelling. I couldn't hear Ben on the radio which was essential to getting the job done. It was difficult to move around as I was closed in by little bodies pushing to get the closest. I had little patience. I was claustrophobic. I got so aggravated, which bothered me. Weren't we there for the children? They are who we were there to serve, yet I had no feelings of joy or love to give them. I don't think I was even smiling.
When we had finished the job, I felt so much relief that my attitude did a 180. Now I could smile and laugh and be friendly. It didn't seem right that I didn't have the time for this while working. On the other hand, if we did not buckle down and get the job done, they would not get houses and school rooms built for them.
Back to my point, it was after this that I had a simple experience that will stick with me. The people were gathering for the church service. Ben and I sat down under a tree to rest. The kids crowded around, holding my hands, petting my hair, and crawling into my lap. One girl in particular, her name was Olive, had spend as much time as she could with me in the past week. She was a girl full of joy and friendship. She often helped the younger children, and the widows pound flour. She approached me with a friend, asking me in her broken English if I knew a certain song. They proceeded to sing me a song in their language which I instantly recognized as, "Our God is an Awesome God."
For the next half hour we sang together.
I wrote it out in English and they quickly picked it up. They wrote it out in Kinyrwandan, and had me sing it over and over. After each time Olive would yell, "Again!" But I got it. Much to the entertainment of those listening. The older women were laughing quite hard at my fumbling of their language. They appreciated my willingness to learn their language. It was so much fun.
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