Snapshots of Kudjip: Flowers and Fruit

Snapshots of Kudjip: The Dawn

Have you ever commanded the morning to appear

and caused the dawn to rise in the east?

Have you made daylight spread to the ends of the earth, 

to bring an end to the night's wickedness?

As the light approaches,

the earth takes shape like clay 

pressed beneath a seal;

it is robed in brilliant colors. 

The light disturbs the wicked

and stops the arm that is raised in violence. 

(Job 38:12-15)

Maintenance at Kudjip: A Big Hole

Sometimes as a maintenance guy on a mission station, Morgan doesn't feel so very important. Like when he's trying to figure out which jobs he can do with four guys when it is pouring rain and the power is off. Hint: there aren't a lot of jobs that you can do in the pouring rain with no power.

And then, sometimes, he knows that the job he is doing is actually, despite appearances perhaps, quite essential. Such as fixing the sewage system for one of the doctor houses so that it doesn't back up into the house. Because even the best doctors find their style a little cramped when their sewage system doesn't work. It's the little things in life, you know?

And THEN, sometimes, he feels a little bit like he is doing the same thing over and over again, day after day. Like, when the measurements aren't done QUITE right and he has to do the same job over again. That feels a little redundant. It can get old. Just a little.

Morgan rejoined the maintenance team after a week of paternity leave as they were finishing up the "fixing the sewage system" job. A large ditch had been dug as a "dry well" (evidently this is where excess "gray" water from the septic tank goes) and filled with stones (because that is what you do, I guess. I don't understand it completely). A pipe is then laid from the septic tank to the end of the giant ditch, with holes in it, to drain off the water, and it is then covered up. I guess.

Anyway, with the combination of several genius minds on the project, the simple matter of measuring the heights of "in" end of the pipe and the "out" end of the pipe was neglected until the ditch was dug, the rocks were in, and the pipe was being laid. At that point, one of the guys on the crew casually mentioned to Morgan that "the pipe is too high on this end."

Morgan frowned at the guy, thinking, of course it's not too high. There are several of us on this project. Surely somebody measured it.
"Really?" He said kindly, attempting to be a good listener like we are told to be.
"Yes." replied the guy, who obviously had faulty 3-D perception.
"Ok," Morgan decided to give him the benefit of the doubt, at least in theory.
"Let's measure it and see."

A couple of measurements later, Morgan stood looking at pipe that entered the septic tank 500mm from the top and exited the tank 300mm from the top. This meant that, for the sewage system to work correctly, the gray water would need to be really cooperative and agree to flow uphill. Just a little. Not much.

Since Morgan was guessing that the water would not be so agreeable, the crew began to move forward on moving backwards on the job to a point where they could fix the outgoing height of the pipe. This meant removing the pipe. Then removing the rocks. Lots and lots of rocks. Then digging the ditch deeper. (it was already very deep. and big) Also, the second time around of digging had to be done around a couple inches of gray water than was now running into the ditch from the old (not working) leech field. Then replacing the rocks. Lots and lots of rocks. And going and getting even more rocks because now the hole is bigger and needs more rock to be filled. Then replacing the pipe, so as to get back to the same point in the project that they were already at, only with everything in positions that worked with, rather than against, the various natural laws of the universe, such as gravity.

While I do feel very sorry for Morgan, I really couldn't restrain myself from a couple of small snorts of laughter. Respectful laughter, of course.

And, you know, the obligatory "measure twice, cut once" remark.
This from the Queen of Impulsive.
Pretty much all of my projects are done two or three times before they work.
Or don't work, as the case may be.
Like the last batch of sweet bread dough I made… without sugar.
Never fear, I realized it at the end and tried to knead in 1/2 c of sugar to the dough.
It really doesn't work that well.
Don't try it.

Or the entire load of laundry that I inadvertently tie-dyed purple from a new skirt because I'm too lazy to sort my laundry.
But we have pretty purple towels now.
And NOW I wash that skirt by hand.

You know, if we were all perfect I could of course give some great moral about how we should always think through our actions before we do them so that we would not make mistakes such as these and we would only ever have to do things once, beautifully, because we are all so wise now and have learned our lesson.
But we aren't.
I, for one, am quite unintelligent on a regular basis.
Clear thought did not come easy to me before two pregnancies and children, never mind now that I have a toddler and a newborn to juggle with my hormone-addled brain.
I don't know about you.
And I really don't have time to think through all of my actions.
And sometimes, even with all the thinking through, I just miss things.
Or things go wrong.
And I feel so stupid.
Or it's completely out of my control and I feel angry that I now have to clean up a mess someone else or something else made.
Because, isn't my time worth more than this???
And surely if we were all thinking clearly none of this would happen.

But I watched my husband this last week graciously accept a mistake that happened, and not look around for someone to blame, or kick himself for being stupid, or get angry at the amount of "unnecessary" work that now needed to happen. Instead, he laughed. And started fixing the problem.

I noticed this tendency while we were dating when our spare tire blew out halfway between Southern New Mexico and Oklahoma and we had to wait several hours for Morgan's dad to come tow us home. Morgan laughed. And called his dad to come get us.

Or when our toddler threw up all over him a couple weeks ago. Twice. Morgan laughed. And went and took a shower.

Sometimes, the answer is not to "do better" or "think clearer" or "be smarter."
Because we are still human, and sometimes we just screw up.
Or someone else does.
And then we have a choice to make: to deal with it graciously, or ungraciously.
To get angry.
Or to laugh and move forward.

And life on the mission field, or anywhere, for that matter, is very often not about doing things perfectly, but about learning to laugh and move on.
Even if that means moving "backwards" for a little while.

Lula Anne.

Things I am thankful for:
-Lula's labor went a bit faster than Theron's. 1/10th the time, actually.
-Lula was not actually born in the car. We made it all the way to the delivery room.
-We are back home within 12 hours of labor starting.
-Good doctor with good hearing who lives across the road and can hear my husband yelling ERIN!!!! from our house. 

Things I have learned:
-3 hours is a REALLY FAST labor.
-Sometimes the absolute last words in the whole wide world that you want to hear are "DON'T PUSH YET!!!!"
-Sometimes you just don't notice all the potholes on the road between your house and the hospital. They just don't seem to matter.

Other observations:
Sometimes you find yourself not being quite as nice as you want to be being.
You think, in your head,
"The doctor and the nurse are nice people.
I like them.
They are doing the best things for me.
They know how this is supposed to work."
But then you watch and your hands just won't seem to stop pushing them away when they insist on stretching/pushing on/ "helping" things that you just feel in that moment very strongly would be better left quite alone.
You also for some reason feel like a good thing to inform them of would be the fact that "it hurts."
As if they don't know.
Sorry guys. You really are the best. =]

We are very thankful to be home and feeling good with a healthy baby and a very confused toddler.

Live. Laugh. Love.

It's such a cliche. 

Valentine's Day: the day for exchanging chocolates and red roses and hoping that some special person will notice you. 

Or the day for having it pointed out in no uncertain terms just how nonexistent your "love life" really is.

 But yesterday, as I was thinking through the "ideal" evening with my own "special someone," something dawned on me. Or, perhaps I should say "re-dawned" because it has occurred to me before. My favorite thing about my husband is that he is my friend. 

I know, that is cliche too. 

But I think that it is often overlooked. So much emphasis is placed on the chocolates and roses and fluffy pink feelings and romantic candlelight dinners and tuxedos (although, I will say, I'm a sucker for my dressed-up husband. With a bow tie.) 

My favorite evenings, though, are the ones where we are doing the dishes together and making fun of each other and laughing so hard we can't breathe. 

Or the ones where we are eating by candlelight again, not to be romantic, but because the power has gone out. Again. 

Or the ones where we run outside 

and desperately try to pull all of the dry laundry off the line 

as the first sprinkles of rain begin to fall, 

and we are getting all tangled up the clean clothes and clothesline 

and laughing and tripping over our toddler 

who is trying so hard to help 

and is just managing to be everywhere that is most inconvenient. 

Or the ones where we eat a whole roll of oreos (who decided that so many delicious little cookies should go in one package?) while I read a book and he sits beside me and plays a computer game. 

When we were engaged, we were warned over and over again (perhaps due to our rather short dating time) that after we were married, the fun and romance would wear off, and at some point we were going to have to face the reality that is mundane married life. 

Well… duh. Of course the fuzzy feelings can't last forever, continuously, all the time. 

But friendship can. 

And when we just aren't feeling the starry-eyed romance in the middle of the stuff that is life… 

we can always laugh. 

At each other. 

With each other. 

At life. 

And I think, that is what love really looks like. 

Not chocolates (although I do love chocolate). 

Not roses (not my favorite flower, anyways). 

Not tuxedos (although, refer to the above confession regarding my stance on suits.) 

But love is laughing and rolling up our sleeves and washing the dishes. 

Or sweeping. 

Or stumbling around and finding the matches and candles in the dark so that we can see to finish dinner. 

Or giving the toddler a bath because he sat in a puddle. Again. 

And always, being willing to laugh. 

And live.

And love. 

Life at Kudjip: The Great Laundry Dilemma

There are times in life on the mission field when you just have to stop and contemplate how amazingly complicated a formerly easy part of your life has become. Now, granted, there are plenty of formerly difficult or expensive things that are now easy, such as eating plenty of fruits and vegetables or staying active enough. BUT, there are also some of those formerly easy things that now are amazingly complicated. Case in point: laundry. There are several factors that go into making this common household chore a more complicated and involved undertaking that it heretofore might have been.

1. I use cloth diapers for Theron. Now, I have always used cloth diapers for him, this is not a new development since becoming missionaries, but I just need for you to keep in mind that this little factor lends an aura of urgency or importance to the Laundry Dilemma that it might not have if what was at stake was, say, clean underwear rather than diapers. Diapers are important. Very important. 

2. All of our water comes from a water tank, which is filled by rain. Now, granted, we do live in the tropics, so this would seem to be a non-issue. However, this is only true during the rainy season, which we are currently in. During the dry season, I am told, these water tanks do occasionally go dry, especially if you happen to do, say, a load of diapers a day. While I have not actually lived here during a dry season, this factor has to be kept in mind to understand while I feel morally obligated to be thankful for the copious amounts of rain we are currently receiving on a daily, hourly, and minutely basis. 

3. Our power goes off. A lot. Usually at least two or three times in an evening, often during the day as well. When the power goes off, laundry cannot be done at all for two reasons: (1) the water pump is electric and requires power so when the power goes off, so does our water; (2) the washing machine is electric and requires power so when the power goes off, so does my washing machine. 

4. We don't have a drier. Now, this is not a HUGE deal, as we do have a nice laundry line and I grew up hanging clothes outside to dry, since we didn't have a drier when I was a teenager. However, two issues: (1) I'm 7 months pregnant. This makes bending over to pick up clothes and straightening up to hang them approximately 235 times a day just a leetle more interesting. I can't breathe when I bend over. (2) In order for clothes to dry on a clothes line, it must at the very least not be raining. Ideally, there would actually be a modicum of sunshine. Here is where we refer back to factor #2, regarding water. As I mentioned back then, you may recall, we are currently in the rainy season. This means that we get approximately 3 minutes of sunshine per day. The rest of the time it is either pouring, sprinkling, misting, foggy, very overcast, or some mixture or variation on those condition. 

5. Not to worry, my neighbor has a drier which I am welcome to use whenever I need it! Yay! Except… see factor #3. The drier is yet another item which is electric, therefore requiring electricity to function, therefore frequently not functioning. 

SO, in summary, to have clean diapers (which is very important) I must make sure to do the laundry when we have water in the tank (requiring rain), the water pump and washer are functioning (requiring power) and there is EITHER enough sunshine to dry the clothes on the line OR enough power to dry the clothes in the drier. 

And then I must make sure to get the laundry DOWN OFF the line BEFORE it rains again, or the work I did hanging them up in the first place is negated. And it is just so depressing to have to re-hang clothes that WERE dry but then got rained on. 

I'm not complaining. Just contemplating. Now, if you'll excuse me, I believe the power is on and the sun is out so I need to run and do laundry. Because Theron is currently wearing his last diaper. 

Theron at Kudjip: Spot the Toddler

After two days of Spot the Toddler, I am happy to report that my one-year-old is back to his normal coloration.
Things I am thankful for:
1. Neither grandmother was here to see his excessive spottliness because they probably would have freaked out. At least, my mom would have. =]
2. We live across the street from two wonderful doctors who don't mind being asked over and over, "are you sure it's just allergies?"
3. They were indeed sure it was just allergies.
4. Benedryl makes my child sleepy, not hyper.
5. Baby's coloration pattern is pretty much back to normal now. That is: Mud with whitish-pink undertones and Lunch accents.