Tag: Haven of Peace Academy Page 10 of 23

Show Stopping

As student council adviser, preparations for the annual Talent Show have been occupying a great deal of my time and mental energy these last couple of weeks.

And last week, all I could think was, I am so glad that I don’t have to do this next year. 



But then Friday night came.  And it was full of laughter and community and great memories.  Now, I am wistful.  It’s always worth it.  And I will miss it.

Oh yes, we did zip line our Student Council president into the show!  (Of course, that was Gil’s idea.  Of course.)

The last act was five little girls dancing to Eye of the Tiger.  In rehearsal, I kept telling them, Look mean, girls!  Look mean!  They ended with a bang.

Passing the Baton

They’re here. 

 

This is the Russell family.   David will be HOPAC’s new chaplain.  They arrived on March 22.

 

This is Marc.  He will be HOPAC’s new Bible teacher starting in August.  He was here for a week last week, getting to know the city, the school, and our house (since his family will be living in it while we are gone). 

 

Gil has been both chaplain and Bible teacher during his years at HOPAC.  But it became clear pretty early on that this was a two person job.  I helped him a lot, but there was so much we wanted to do that we didn’t have time for. 

 

So we were thankful when HOPAC agreed to hire two men to take Gil’s place.  And we are even more thankful that both of them are talented and committed and men of God and Scripture.  What a huge relief for us as we leave this place that we love so much.

 

Last week, our spring break, was very, very full as we showed these two men (and the rest of the Russell family) around Dar.  But oh, so incredibly fulfilling and exciting as we passed on to them our vision for HOPAC.

 

We took them to Mbudya Island, one of our very favorite places. 

 

 

Mbudya has the most incredible coral reef.  Snorkeling with our kids (even Lily can do it!) is one of our favorite parts of living so close to the Indian Ocean.  So, so wish I could show you what we saw under that glistening water. 

 

And Gil took Marc on a mini, one-day safari. 

 

 

 

But just to make sure that Marc wouldn’t be too enamoured by the beauty of Tanzania and this apparently care-free life we live here, Gil made sure that they all got stuck in the mud for six hours. 

 

 

The countdown begins.  Eleven weeks to go.

 

SEWing Love

Most people outside of Africa think that most people inside of Africa live in mud huts. 

 

Well, in the cities, they don’t.  We don’t. 

 

But the majority of Tanzanians do. 

 

 

Sometimes modern thinking wants to idealize village life, and that it’s only western influence that has damaged the noble savage.

 

 

 

There is some truth in that.  There is a lot of beauty to be found in the simplicity of village life.  And western countries certainly have screwed up Africa. 

 

But it’s not entirely true.  Tanzanians themselves have deforested their land for charcoal, destroying the ecosystem and reducing the rainfall.  Lack of education has contributed to devastating poverty, chronic malnutrition, and stagnant economic growth.  And sin, in the midst of it all, is also responsible for rampant promiscuity and all the heartache and disease that comes with it.

 

HOPAC has an outstanding service learning program.  It’s one of the brightest, best parts of a HOPAC education.  All secondary students take classes, year-round, on these very issues.  Then they engage in projects to make a difference:  teaching English at local schools, making water filters, reducing erosion….during every school week.

 

This is culminated in Service Emphasis Week (SEW) each March, when every HOPAC secondary student is put on a team to go out and serve throughout Tanzania:  orphanages, disability hospitals, deaf schools….and villages.

 

 

This year, Gil and I got to lead a team of eight 11th grade students to the village of Mitengwe, about 3 hours outside of Dar es Salaam.  We were privileged to work alongside some of our best friends:

 

 

Tim and Emily have been our friends for over 10 years.  Our both sets of adopted kids have grown up together.  We don’t get to see them often, but we are kindred spirits.  So it was a pleasure for us to enter their world for a week, and experience all the things they have told us about for all these years.

 

Tim and Emily are awesome.  Period.  They want the people of the village to know Jesus, but they also want to help improve their lives.  And they want to do it in sustainable, reproducing ways that will help people to change using the village resources….not American resources. 

 

They live extremely sacrificial lives. 

 

So.  They have taught the people how to dig their own wells that they can maintain themselves (since all the machine-dug, foreign-funded wells in the village are broken and unusable).  They are introducing drought-resistant, highly nutritious plants and teaching people what a difference they can make.  They have started a pre-school.  They are training people how to care for their own medical needs.  Like I said.  They are awesome.

 

 

 

So we had a blast bringing our 8 students into this village for a week.  Our students worked hard.  But they also learned so much.  Our students, these ones who have the education, the resources, the connections….these students can make a difference in this country!  And I pray that now they have a better picture of how that can happen.

 

Our primary tasks for the week were to help with the construction of a community center, and to bless the local elementary school by painting some walls and chalkboards. 

 

 

 

These kind of schools have nothing.  Literally.  They have no books, no paper, no pictures, no colorful rugs.  They have a few desks (not enough), chalkboards, and walls.  Some classrooms don’t even have four walls. 

 

 

The school has a relatively new classroom which was built about a year ago.  Since then, they haven’t had the money to paint it.  So that’s what we did.

 

 

 

But our students, our kids, and us….we were the ones who were far more blessed by this experience.  To God be the Glory.

 

 

 

March 22

When Gil started his job as HOPAC chaplain, he unintentionally woke up at 5 in the morning for the first two months. He was so full of ideas and excitement that he couldn’t sleep any later.

Gil’s mind works like a chess board; he is full of strategy and vision. He loves solving problems. (I’ve always said it’s a good thing he loves Jesus because he would have made a great bank robber.) So this young international school was exactly suited to how he is wired. And of course, since I was trained in education, I’ve been happy as a clam.

Obviously, Gil’s involuntary early mornings didn’t last forever. But the absolute assurance of God’s calling us to HOPAC did last. The times of tears and fear and frustration never changed that. We have always been completely confident that we are where God has wanted us to be.

And I don’t take that for granted. I know full well that the majority of the world must work because they must feed their families, not because they are called to their occupation. I understand how incredibly blessed we are to be able to do something that we love, that energizes and excites us.

Which is why it’s so hard to accept that we are leaving.

For 10 years, HOPAC has been our life. It’s practically all we talk about and think about and pray about. The community at HOPAC has been our family. We know almost every student (out of over 300) by name, and many of their parents as well. We’ve watched many of our students grow from 5 years old to 18 years old. We’ve been a part of the school growing in every area: sports, curriculum, numbers, buildings, God-centeredness. My children have been literally raised on the campus; they run free, I often can’t find them….though Josiah and Lily usually just sneak into first grade.

If you cut me open, HOPAC’s blood will run out.

The school feels like one of our children. When someone tries to harm this school in any way, my Mama Bear claws come out, even if it’s in an area I haven’t been involved in. Not that the school is perfect, but it’s my school. Don’t go messing with my school.

Tomorrow. Tomorrow, the new chaplain and his family arrive. And I must accept reality.

I’ve known for a very long time now that in June of 2013, we would leave HOPAC. I’ve known it in my head, but now it’s getting to my heart. Yes, we’ll be back. And HOPAC will still be our kids’ school. But it will be just that–our kids’ school. Not ours. I won’t know 300 students’ names anymore.

This week, I’ve woken at 5 am on most days. This time, it’s my mind that’s spinning. Friday is the end of Term 2, the beginning of spring break. And the day the new chaplain arrives. The Beginning of the End. Three months left.

And the tears flow and my heart is heavy. I know it’s the right time; I know it. But letting go is still going to be really, really hard.

Orange Max

I do wonder sometimes who gets more excited about dress-up days at school:  Grace, or her Daddy.  It’s a toss-up, really.

Last week was Book Week and Friday was Book Character Day.  First Grade had Dr. Seuss, and so the Medina family decided that Grace would be the Grinch.  (The nice Grinch, we said, after he decided to give all the toys back.)

 

Part of the reason we decided on the Grinch was so that Grace could bring Minnie to school.  Except that, according to Daddy, it was a problem that the Grinch’s dog, Max, was a brown dog, and Minnie was white.

 

So that sent him on a quest:  Turn Minnie into a brown dog.  Hair dye did not work.  Henna did.  Which actually turned the poor dog orange, but you get the idea.

 

Never a dull moment around here. 

 

She got the prize for best costume in her class.  I think that actually the judge just felt sorry for Minnie. 

When I brought Minnie home from school Friday morning, after the assembly, our gardener gave me a really strange look at the now-orange dog. 

Dawa?  he asked.  [Medicine?]  Makes sense, since we are constantly fighting ticks.

I thought about this question for about three seconds.  Then I realized that I didn’t know the Swahili words for dye, Grinch, Dr. Seuss, or costume.  Or, even if I did, how he could possibly understand why children would dress up like book characters, AND why it would therefore be necessary to have an orange brown dog. 

I gave up.  Yes, Dawa, I said. 

Who knows?  Maybe henna will keep the ticks away. 

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