Again.

By

On August 5, 2014

In Other

So, okay.

I know I told you that I would be writing about the ordinary parts of my life here.  And I promise I am getting to that.  Phew, my days have been busy.

But now I need to tell you about TODAY.

Anyone who has read this blog for any length of time knows that we want to adopt

one

more

child.

We’ve wanted that for a very long time now.  We tried forthis little guy.  Then Tanzania told us we could only adopt three.

Then we spent over a year working on an Ethiopian adoption, which has been in eternal limbo (that is, until all of our paperwork expires next month, and then it will be out of limbo and will be mostly dead.)

Meanwhile, we got new information that made us hope that we could try again in Tanzania for a fourth child.  During our whole time in the States, that’s what I’ve been hoping and praying for.

So today.

Today we decided to go to social welfare.  This is not a small undertaking.  We left the house at 10 am and returned home at 4 pm.  Yes.  That’s what happens when you go to social welfare.  And to think that for a good number of years, I did this about once a week.

But we fought the traffic and the parking and the road construction and the elevator that creaks up to the fourth floor and we waited and we waited and we waited for hours.

But finally we talked to the person who we had been waiting for, the one who worked with us through Josiah’s and Lily’s adoption and the one who said no to #4 almost three years ago.

And first, she said No again.  But then I brought out the new information and I pleaded and cajoled and I batted my eyelashes and she said she would research and look into it.  So it actually became Maybe.

And then I called our lawyer and she said we should go for it and start the process, because at this point, I have nothing to lose except time and petrol (and maybe a little bit of sanity).

So while we are waiting for the regional social welfare to make up their minds whether it really is legal for us to adopt #4 (we are pretty convinced it is), I will start the process with our district social welfare to do another homestudy.

Like, next week.

Even if we are approved for Four, it won’t be this little guy.  We found out months ago that he was selected for adoption, and even though we were a teeny bit sad about that, mostly we were very, very happy that he gets his family.  And of course, there are zillions of other wonderful little boys in Tanzania that need a family.

So here we go again.

I’m sure it will be a crazy ride.

Welcome To My World

By

On July 31, 2014

In Other

The salon was now a video store.

Darn it.  I guess a lot can change in a year.

But I still had two little girls next to me with very big hair that needed to be braided.  A woman took pity on me as I was searching for the salon-now-video-store and pointed us in the direction of another salon.

I tried to repeat her directions back to her, and finally she told me to just follow her.  We walked through the dust, past piles of blackened trash and bare concrete block structures, over rocks and around puddles, dodging small children who always stop to stare at the white woman and her two brown children.  Finally she deposited me in front of the other salon.

I poked my head in.  Naomba kusuka watoto wangu?  I asked.  Will you please braid my children’s hair?  

Yes.  They welcomed us in.

The small room had two plastic chairs, two salon hair dryers, two large mirrors, and a shelf filled with hair products.  That was it.  On the wall was a poster of a little Asian girl with some sort of inspirational saying on it.  We took our shoes off outside, and they plopped my girls down on the floor and started working on their hair.

A guy came in with his arms full of women’s clothes on hangers.  Selling them.  He showed off each piece for the women to admire.  One woman took a bright fuchsia dress and tried it on on top of her clothes, prancing around for the others to see.  They haggled over the price and she bought it.  5000 shillings–about $3.00.

I know from experience that these type of clothes come from huge bundles of used clothing, shipped over from America, cast offs from thrift stores that get too much stuff.  I wondered about the American woman who donated that dress to charity; if only she knew that it ended up in a little salon in East Africa.

This is my life.  How do I even describe it to you?  I’ve been thinking so much about the women I met and became friends with in America this year.  I’ve been thinking about how I wish I could give them a glimpse into what this life is really like.

I could have described how earlier this morning, I went to the main grocery store in town–the one that sells imported products.  I could have told you how I the power went out while I was there, and how I waited in line for an hour because the store couldn’t get their power back-up system to work and thus couldn’t check anybody out.  Finally, in total frustration, my friend and I abandoned our carts in line and left the store.

I could have told you about how when I buy rice or beans, I always put them in the freezer overnight before I put them in the pantry, so that I kill all the bugs first.

I could have told you about the butcher shop where I buy meat, how it stinks to high heaven but he has the best prices and so I put up with it.

I loved my time with you, my American friends.  I’m going to try to give you a glimpse into this life here.  Hang with me while I attempt.

She’s At My Table

By

On July 26, 2014

In Other

Do you remember the story of Zawadi?  Click the link, if you never read it.  And even if you did, read it again, because it’s a pretty cool story.

Zawadi has been home for almost a year now, but it happened shortly after we left for the States, so we never got to get to know her and we never got to celebrate with Ben and Lauren.

So it’s pretty amazing and wonderful and awesome that now she’s at my table, and playing with my children.  Her parents are some of our best friends, so the kids will practically be raised as cousins.

We’re pretty happy about that.

Diary of an International Transition: Days 3, 4, 5

By

On July 24, 2014

In Other

My days have been spent unpacking.

My nights have been spent lying awake, trying to get my body to overcome jetlag.  

And that about sums it up.  

Both are improving dramatically.  

On Monday, we unpacked all the stuff we brought from the States.  On Tuesday, we started tackling the garage, where we had stored everything else (except our furniture–the family in our house was using that).  

Seriously, the stuff in our garage looked like it had been there 25 years, with the dirt and the lizards and cockroaches and the moths and various droppings from the lizards and the cockroaches.  I had forgotten how dirty everything gets here.  But thankfully, everything has recovered.  

The above picture is our bedroom earlier today, and right now, it’s almost completely put away.  Progress!

Here are a few other images from today.  

We transformed the garage into the kids’ playroom. I LOVE THIS.

Our landlord had cut down the gigantic, gorgeous trees in our yard right before we arrived.  She had been talking about this for a while, since the roots were wreaking havoc, but we were still so sad to see them go.  See how lonely that tire swing looks?  

I’m not actually sure our dogs remember us.

Spaghetti sauce cooking on the stove; a common site in my kitchen.  Tomatoes are plentiful and cheap here, and the canned stuff is expensive.  This is about six pounds of tomatoes, cooked down.  

This afternoon the vet stopped by (unannounced; he does that from time to time) and told me that I got fat in America.  This is a compliment in Tanzania.  I did my best to smile and thank him!

Tonight, as I was locking up, I picked up a toy the kids had left on the porch.  A giant rhinoceros beetle fell off it and bit my finger and just about gave me a heart attack.  Thankfully, it only gave me a bloody finger.

Oh yes, I am home.

This is the end of my Transition Diary….I will move onto other topics now.  Thanks for reading along!  

Diary of an International Transition: Arrival Day and Day 2

By

On July 21, 2014

In Other

The five hour flight from Dubai to Dar es Salaam seemed really short after the other parts of our trip.

But the contrast between Dubai and Dar is enough to boggle the mind.

Dubai is one of the richest cities in the world, and the airport is practically a small city.  It has three terminals, and Terminal 3 is the largest building in the world by floor space and the largest airport terminal in the world.  Yeah.  Imagine huge glass ceilings and gigantic sparkling pillars and marble floors.  And Dubai has only 2 million people.

Dar, on the other hand, has over 5 million people.  However, its one and only airport’s arrival terminal consists of two rooms.  Two.  Rooms.  You walk into the immigration room straight off the tarmac, and go from there into the baggage claim/customs room.  Our flight had over 200 people on it, so you can imagine that we all got up close and personal in the airport.

Talk about culture shock.

We arrived around 3 pm but didn’t get out of the airport until 4:30.  Things go a little slow in there, especially when waiting for 13 pieces of luggage.

Our wonderful friends Ben and Lauren (and Zawadi!) were waiting for us….what a welcome, wonderful sight after so many good-byes and so many hours of travel!  They also made us dinner and brought us groceries.

And today was our first full day.

We are back in our previous house, the house Gil and I have lived in the longest since we’ve been married.  It is such a huge blessing to come back to a house, and we are so thankful for the family who stayed here while we were gone.

Today we spent our time unpacking, arranging, organizing…you get the idea.  We went to the Voda store to get our phones working again, and picked up some groceries.

It’s all very surreal.  One part of me feels like we never left, and that somehow last year was a very long, involved dream.  Another part of me feels like all of this is very familiar, but not where I belong, and that somehow that was a different person who lived that life in Tanzania.

It’s weird.

Long time habits that I had forgotten about are coming back to me.  How to smash the cockroaches in my cabinet.  To laugh, not scream, when I pick up my toaster and a gecko runs out.  What type of mayonnaise to buy.  What sweat feels like.  How to convert shillings.  Swahili.

They say that when people first move to another country, the first six months are the honeymoon period, when everything is exciting and adventurous.  Then they start hating everything for a while.  Eventually, they adapt and come to a happy medium in their new life.

I think that in re-entry to a country where you previously lived, you skip the honeymoon and go straight to the hatred.  Ugh.  The traffic.  The insane drivers who seem to have no value on human life or property.  The ticks (spent an hour today de-ticking our dog).  The cockroaches.  And to top it all off, we had no electricity today from 10 am until 7 pm (and no back-up systems currently working).  It’s almost as if Tanzania was laughing at me.  Oh yeah?  You really thought you wanted to live here?  What were you thinking?  

Thankfully, I’ve done this enough times to know that the “hatred” phase won’t last very long either.  I know I will get used to life again soon and maybe even be brave enough to drive in a few days.

You call me out upon the waters 

The great unknown where feet may fail

And there I find You in the mystery

In oceans deep

My faith will stand

I didn’t take any pictures today…..a little too overwhelming.  But here’s a post from a few years ago with pictures of our house, if you are interested.

Let me walk upon the waters, wherever you would call me.

Page 111 of 234

Previous

Next

Powered by WordPress & Theme by Anders Norén

Verified by MonsterInsights