Category: Other Page 56 of 181

Those Kids: Term 1 at HOPAC

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On December 22, 2014

In Other

Lily and friends during Pamoja Week (kind of like Spirit Week)

Grace joined the swim team….this is at her first Gala!

Kindergarteners are always excellent at walking in line

Grace in her Term 1 assembly

(This is one of my favorite parts of HOPAC….each class takes a turn each term to put on an assembly.  By the time they get to fifth grade, none of the kids have stage fright and all are completely comfortable performing!)

Josiah’s first grade class

Little Miss Kindergarten

Josiah’s first grade assembly

Lily’s kindergarten assembly

Grace’s field trip to test out their hand-made boats

Josiah’s field trip to the tide pools

All I Want for Christmas is Permethrin

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On December 13, 2014

In Other

Have you ever thought about what the world was like before pesticides?

Probably a lot more bugs.

A few years ago, we had a team here.  One thing they brought was a couple bottles of permethrin.

It’s meant for spraying on clothes and tents while camping, to keep the bugs away.  The team didn’t use it, so they left it with us.

We discovered soon after that this stuff is liquid gold.  If we sprayed it on baseboards, mosquito nets, and under furniture, we didn’t have live bugs in our house any more–we had dead bugs.  And the best part is that it keeps working for about three months after it’s sprayed.  

When your house is full of ticks, mosquitoes, ants of various varieties, cockroaches the size of small mammals, and centipedes that sting, trust me, you’d be willing to try anything.

I get the eebie jeebies just looking at this picture.  

We brought permethrin back with us in July, but now it’s gone.  And the bugs know it, and they have invaded.  So when my mom offered to send us a box of Christmas presents back with a friend who was visiting the States, one of the first things I asked for was more permethrin.

And the last couple of weeks, it’s what I thought about every single day as I opened my cupboards and saw the roaches and their droppings.  I’m sorry, but I’m of the old-fashioned opinion that when you put clean dishes back in the cupboards, they should stay clean.  You shouldn’t have to wash them again when you take them out.  

We got my mom’s box on Wednesday, and even though I was happy to see the chocolate chips and the presents for the kids, I was most excited to see the permethrin.  

This morning, I took everything out of the cupboards, blasted them with bug spray, scrubbed them, and sprayed them with permethrin.  (The cupboards, not the dishes.) I dare those bugs to come back.

Listen, when I was in America, I bought organic sweet potatoes from Trader Joe’s like every other good little mom.  But out here, I’ve got to say that I sure am thankful for pesticides.

A Thrill of Hope

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On December 10, 2014

In Other

My kids’ Sunday School teacher pulled me aside after the service.

She was talking to me in Swahili, and I was alarmed by what I was hearing.  Finally, I asked her to switch to English.  I wanted to make sure I understood exactly what she was saying.

Unfortunately, the message had not been lost in translation.  Except it sounded even worse in English.

During Sunday School, all the children sit on a mat outside.  The teacher told me that one of my children had found a little pouch with money in it.  Even though it was in close proximity to another child, my child took the money.  Another one of my children witnessed this event and encouraged the other child, saying, “Good job!”

Of course, it was all brought to light (thankfully), and my two children were implicated in this scheme.

It definitely was one of the more humiliating experiences of my life.

Oh yes, the children of the missionaries stole money from a child who is probably a thousand times poorer than they are.  At church.  That made me feel really good.

We slunk away with our tails between our legs.

At home, Gil took one little thief and I took the other.  We both extracted that each child knew exactly what they were doing.  And each knew that it was wrong.

I wanted to shake that child and yell, WHAT WERE YOU THINKING?  And, WELL, THERE GOES CHRISTMAS!

But then I remembered:  Christmas.

You know, we want our kids to understand the “true meaning of Christmas,” don’t we?  That’s it’s not all about the presents and the parties and the cookies.  And we tell them and we tell them and their eyes glaze over and they look over our shoulder at the presents under the tree.

This time was different.  I looked deep into my child’s eyes and said, “This is why Jesus had to come to earth.  Because our hearts are full of sin.  Because it pops out of our hearts when we least expect it.  Because our lives are broken.  Because God loves us anyway and we need to be rescued.  That’s why we celebrate Christmas!”

And the child looked back and me and I saw an inkling of understanding.

Long lay the world

In sin and error pining

Till He appeared and the soul felt its worth

A thrill of hope

The weary world rejoices

For yonder breaks

A new and glorious morn!

No One Can Accuse Me of Not Going Through Labor

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On December 8, 2014

In Other

For two months, our attempt at another adoption has been at a stand still, and there wasn’t anything I could do about it.

Last week, I found out that there was something I could do, so I seized the day.

I left the house at 10:45 am, after my Swahili lesson.  I got home at 4:45 pm.  That is six hours, in case you are counting.

I traveled approximately 28 miles, round trip.  However, four of those six hours were spent in the car, in traffic.  For 28 miles.  Welcome to Dar es Salaam.

I went to two social welfare offices.  One social worker was incredibly helpful, though considering she had never been given a filing cabinet, had to search for my paperwork through a series of plastic bags.  The other social worker was not very happy to see me, but grudgingly accepted my paperwork.

I got lost on the way home because road construction sent me down streets I was not familiar with.  I accidentally drove down a one-way street…..right next to a police station.  I got a ticket.  They wanted to give me two tickets, but I managed to squeeze out a few tears and they only gave me one.

After all of that, finally, things are moving again.  We still don’t have a final answer as to whether we will be allowed to adopt a fourth child, but at least we’re moving in the right direction.

I’ve never been through actual birth labor.  But this kind of labor has got to count for something, right?

24 Hours

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On November 26, 2014

In Other

Friday, November 22nd, 5:00 pm:  Pumpkin pies came out of the oven.  Sadly, I do not have Costco this year.  I am back to cooking pumpkin pies from this:

This ain’t no mamsy-pamsy carving pumpkin.  This is a PUMPKIN.  You couldn’t carve this pumpkin unless you had a chain saw.  We had to hack the thing open.  Thankfully, it made delicious pies.

Receive a text message from Lauren.  Can you cook two chickens for tomorrow?  Our turkey option fell through so we are just doing chicken. 

I found out later that “the turkey option” was going to cost $126.  Yeah, chicken sounds delicious.

6:00 pm:  We head out to dinner at Verna’s.  Verna is a South African woman who serves Mexican food in her front yard on Friday nights.  In Tanzania.  Yep, this is a crazy world we live in.  On the way to Verna’s, we stop by the butcher and pick up two chickens.  

9:00 pm:  I stick one of the chickens in the crock pot and the other in the fridge.  

Saturday, November 23rd, 8:00 am:  Feed starving children.

Take chicken out of crock pot; pull it apart.  Stick in the other one.  

Make bread dough.  Leave it to rise.  

9:00 am:  Alyssa gets dropped off at my house.  We’re going to the Artisan Market.  Or rather, WE’RE GOING TO THE ARTISAN MARKET!


So this is the thing.  I don’t get to go shopping very often, except for things like fruit and bread and laundry detergent.  Now, I’m not a big shopper in general, but after months go by with no shopping, I get pretty excited when it’s the time of year for the Artisan Market.  It comes around only once a year, when about 85 artisans gather from all over Tanzania to showcase their creativity.  

I told Gil, “I’m going to spend a lot of money today. But since these are all non-profits, it’s practically like I’m giving the money to charity.”  He just rolled his eyes.  

But seriously, friends, look at this stuff.  Wouldn’t you get excited too?

This is what I bought for myself (those are ornaments on the left).  Sadly, I can’t show you the rest of my purchases because Christmas is coming and I can’t keep certain people from reading this post.  

By the way, if you are just totally jealous that I got to shop here, just hop on over to Karamaand find a lot of the same things.  

12:00 pm:  Alyssa and I drag ourselves away from the Artisan Market.  We stopped at a store on the way home because Alyssa needed sage for her stuffing.  

1:30 pm:  I arrive home and jump into a frenzy of frantic activity.  In case you haven’t figured it out, we are celebrating Thanksgiving today.  Yes, I know it’s Saturday the 23rd.  But the last Thursday of the month is only a national holiday in the United States of America.  For the rest of the world, it’s an ordinary work day.  Thus, we celebrate on Saturday.

I turn my risen dough into rolls.  I make a green salad.  I cut up the other chicken.  I make a chocolate mousse pie.  All in an hour and a half.  I am a sweaty mess by the time I am done.  (It’s about 90 degrees here these days).  With Gil’s help, it all gets done.  Yes, it was pushing it to go to the Artisan Market the morning of Thanksgiving, but seriously, how could I have passed up the ARTISAN MARKET?


3:00 pm:  We head to Ben and Lauren’s house for Thanksgiving.  Every year, it’s tradition to celebrate with our Reach Global team.  We are all in different ministries, so we rarely see them other than about once a month, but here, they are family.  Our kids call them Aunt and Uncle and Grandma and Grandpa.  None of us are blood related, and they can’t ever really replace our actual family, but they sure bring us a lot of joy.  

The afternoon is filled with chicken and mashed potatoes and pumpkin pie, running children, and lots and lots of laughter.  Just as Thanksgiving should be.  

9:00 pm:  Stick the kids in the shower; put them to bed.  Head to the kitchen to wash up; put the leftovers in the fridge; put the dishes away.  

Open a cupboard a spot The Cockroach.  

AHA!  This horrible creature has been pooping in my cabinet for the last couple of weeks but has evaded capture.  So now that I have spotted him, war is on.  Gil is out watching a soccer game (we don’t have TV stations so he watches games at a hotel) so it is just Amy vs. The Cockroach.

I spend 15 minutes chasing him all throughout my cupboards, but in the end, I am victorious.  With satisfaction, I watch him writhe in agony to his death.  That’s what you get for pooping in my cupboards.  

I’m sorry to end this post so digustingly. But you want to know my life?  This is my life.  The Good, the Bad, and the Cockroaches.

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