Waka Waka

Briana has been teaching the awesomest dance classes ever in Nica. I "help" by dancing along and videotaping. :)

Here is a video of them working on the dance to Waka Waka. The kids LOVED it. The music's a little hard to hear the first 15 seconds due to the thunder storm (which is also why everyone is soaking wet).

Play Along with Teatro Catalina

We're going to try something new... a blog post that is also a game! Are you excited? There will be prizes from Nica for the winners when I return, so you should be.

Once a week we teach a theater class in Villa Catalina, which is one of the villages Amigos for Christ has built (read more here). This class was started by Katie, and right now they are putting on a production of Snow White that is quite hilarious. It is so amazing that in this random little village in Nicaragua, there is such a great opportunity to be creative, bond as a group, and learn a fun skill. Katie really does a great job with them.

Anyway, a week or two ago, they played a theater game that was sort of like group charades. They were put into three groups and each group was given a well-known story. They were then given the task of coming up with three still frame poses that would communicate what their story was.

I got pictures of each of their poses and will post them below. Your job is to guess (via comments) what their stories were.

The rules are:
1) If you were there, you're disqualified 'cause you know the answers
2) You may only guess at one of the three stories, and you only get one try. This will give a chance for more people to play.
3) I will let you know the answers when all three have guessed correctly. The first three people to guess a story right will receive prizes from Nicaragua (though this may take a lil' while if you don't live near me).

Here they are...

Group 1:

Group 2:

Group 3:

Little Dreams Come True

My first week here in Nica, God showed me a way that he already has answered things I prayed when I was here before. During one of the days I was here in March, I went on a quick delivery run with the Amigos staff. We left the Villa, which is where visiting groups always go to work and play, and went to another village I had never seen before. There was a school there, and we delivered a bunch of donated backpacks to their students. The school was about the same size as the one in the Villa, but the kids were not nearly as vibrant as the others. They didn't run up to us to try to play like they do in the Villa. I remember praying that God would send Amigos there too, because these people were in a lot of need, but they did not have the American groups come to work and play among them much.

The first full day I came back this summer, we were told that the groups were mostly digging pipeline in a different place. Amigos had just finished drilling a well for another community, but needed to dig 6 miles of line to get the water to them. So, we went out in an old school bus full of 60 American high schoolers, parked on the side of some random highway, and started digging. At lunch, the staff walked us about a half mile down to where this community lived so we could meet them. We walked through the village and then came to the school, which looked a tad familiar. After staring at it for a few seconds, I realized that it was the same school I had helped deliver backpacks to, months before.

These kids who before had been tired and slightly suspicious now ran up to us to play. All this summer, the American groups go out twice a week to dig this line and get to go interact and play with the kids in the afternoon. They play field hockey, football, and jump-off-the-back-of-the-slide-and-have-a-gringo-catch-you. It is so cool to see that a little wish I had that a village could get love like the Villa has been realized so abundantly.

Reunited

There is a little boy here in Nicaragua named Junior, and he is my absolute favorite (not that I have favorites). When I was here in March, I played with him just about everyday and completely fell in love with him. I could never tell if the feeling was mutual though because these kids have Americans come and play with them almost every week. He always called me "Gringa," which is just what they call white women. So, when I left, I was sad to leave him, but didn't think he would even give my departure a second thought.

My first week back here in July, I didn't see him. I figured he had moved or something because he hadn't come out to play with the Americans like he had before. So, my third day in his village, I prayed that I would be able to find him and set off toward his house to see if he was there. As I was walking down the road, I saw an unfamiliar looking boy sprinting strait for me. When he got closer, I saw that he was wearing the shirt that Junior used to wear. I was so confused and disheartened, figuring Junior was surely gone. Then, just as this boy was about to crash into me, I got a good look at his face and realized that it was Junior, he had just had a buzz cut. I yelled, "Junior!" right as he took a flying leap into my arms. I spun him around and told him how happy I was to see him again and that I had been looking for him for days.

We then went to the swings to play. As we were sitting down, some others girls I didn't know came up and asked if they could play too. Before I could respond, Junior said, "No! She's my gringa!" They replied that they could play with me too, but he shot back more angrily this time, "No! She's only mine!" I was floored. I never would have thought that he would remember me let alone have become so attached. The staff down here later told me that he actually doesn't get close with a lot of Americans. So now I'm definitely glad I found him and get to play and hang out with him for three more weeks. Maybe eventually he'll learn my name :)

Radiant

Kenyans are really good at celebrating. When we came, singing and dancing children greeted us. Everywhere we went, people performed, prepared food, and were just so excited to see us. The women especially exuded joy when they sang and danced, and I would just watch in awe and wonder. They’re lives are so hard (see the blog about that), but they are so radiant dancing around in the dirt.

When we turned on the well, they sang songs that said things like “Jesus never changes” and “God can give us water.” In church we sang things like “We are one in the Spirit, we are one in the Lord. Jesus, I love you, you are my savior” and “You are Lord, you are Father.” It was always very simple ideas repeated over and over, but to hear it from them and to sing it with them was incredibly powerful.

I just looked through my videos and pictures to try to find something of this, but I don’t have anything. I think I was just too amazed to even think about trying to record it. Oh well, I guess you’ll have to go sometime to see it :).

True Story: Maasai Women

After a few days of being around the Maasai village in Kenya, the true stories of life there started to come out. The first thing I noticed was that when a woman told you how many children she had, she typically used two numbers: how many children total, and how many are still alive. They were numbers like 8 and 5, 14 and 9, 7 and 6.

When I hung out with the young girls (basically teenage girls who are not yet married, which is the Maasai standard for adulthood) it was hard at first to figure out why they grimaced and avoided the subject when I asked if they were going to get married.

In the middle of the week, in a crazy amazing outpouring of the Holy Spirit among the women's cooperative, the women on our team found out why. The women's stories started coming out, and most had the same pattern. Their fathers forced them to get married so they could acquire more cows. In order to get married, they had to get circumcised, which is not a good thing for women. Both forced marriage and female circumcision are against the law in Kenya now, but they still do it secretly.

Most women have also been raped many times, are rarely safe, and are not exactly treated well by their husbands. There are actual witch doctors in Kenya, and the spiritual darkness in the country is more blatant in the West, so the women often also deal with significant spiritual oppression whether they are Christian or not. On top of that, it is their role to do just about everything, including raising the children, getting water, working crops, and feeding everyone. It's hard for them to keep their children alive, let alone send them to school or think about the future.

Some women try to escape from this life, either by running away from home, or, if they're lucky, through higher education. We met a few of them. The girls I worked with had not yet reached this point, but were not looking forward to it. It was actually hard to talk to them at first because basic American conversation is so success, future, and prosperity oriented. After going through names, ages, number of brothers and sisters, and how many years of school they completed, there wasn't a lot more to talk about. "A future" is not really something they think about, and hope, outside the eternal hope of heaven, is not even considered. They try to eat, survive, and avoid pain along the way. Knowing all this made their joy and love all the more spectacular. More about that soon...

You Did For Me

One of my favorite memories of Kenya was simply playing with a little girl. The first few days, I had trouble playing with the kids and loving them, because I was afraid to attach myself to children I may never see again. I hate loving people and then leaving them. One night I realized this and asked God to help me with it.

The next day was Seminar day so they had canceled school and there was not a child to be found. I was a little disappointed, especially since I didn't have anything to do until the youth arrived in the afternoon. Finally I saw one little girl wandering down the hillside. I ran and got one of our children's crafts, went up to her, and just handed it to her (remember I can't verbally communicate with her at all). She looked skeptical, so I sat down, took it out of the bag, and showed her how to do it. Still unsure about me, she sat down and began to do it, but looked up every few seconds to ponder who in the world I was.

After she finished, she held up her work to show it to me, and I indicated that I thought it was great. She immediately lit up with a huge smile and giggled with the cutest laugh I've ever heard. After that we started playing. We began with peek-a-boo esque games that eventually progressed to a stampede of children, who had gathered to watch us, trying to catch and tackle me.

Now, I've played with children a lot before, but this time still stands out in my mind everyday. What was so amazing about this particular instance was what it was like to sit with this girl. It has proven incredibly difficult to put into words, which is why I have avoided posting a blog about it until now. The best I can come up with is that sitting and coloring with this girl was like being with Jesus - like physically. My sudden love for her and connection to her was so intense I barely believed I wasn't dreaming. I couldn't figure out what was going on, so I asked God. Right then, I remembered the parable in Matthew 25 where Jesus says that whatever we do for the least of his brothers and sisters, we do for him. I hung out with her almost all day, and all I can say is that it was one of the best days of my life.

 ³⁴"Then the King will say to those on his right, 'Come, you who are blessed by my Father; take your inheritance, the kingdom prepared for you since the creation of the world. ³⁵For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, ³⁶I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me.'
 ³⁷"Then the righteous will answer him, 'Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you something to drink? ³⁸When did we see you a stranger and invite you in, or needing clothes and clothe you? ³⁹When did we see you sick or in prison and go to visit you?'
 ⁴⁰"The King will reply, 'I tell you the truth, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did for me.'