Recap :)

August through January has been a blur of milestones, because of travel and life changes. I will attempt to recap, but I'm already looking forward to another good year of more changes!

August involved a flurry of a new roommate in the apartment (my mother), new ESL classes, a new baby in the family (my cousin had a sweet little girl) and beginning to work on developing a proposal for my thesis project (a requirement for graduation). I blissfully reduced my employers to one!

September proved more memorable.  I clarified my thesis topic, deciding that I wanted to create an English program for teenagers that would teach peace and conflict resolution through English lessons. Another cousin (Havenbird!) got married in a beautiful ceremony on the family farm and a day later, I left for the Middle East to begin work on my thesis in an appropriate context.

October was spent in a little town called Beit Sahour, which is adjacent to Bethlehem, in the West Bank. I helped to run a coffeeshop, learned how to make a killer Caramel Latte, baked sweets for the coffeeshop and hungry friends, taught a lovely group of guys to play Dutch Blitz, enjoyed falafel for dinner on a regular basis, went to weddings, and danced and laughed until the days blurred together. The intersection of identity and language became a little clearer and a lot more complex through conversations with Palestinian youth. 

In the midst of it all, I interviewed (Skype) for jobs in China, Taiwan, Turkey, and Saudi Arabia, and viewed countless other job offers. Completion of my project meant that graduation would become a reality in December, and my plans included a job in a nice warm climate. None of the jobs seemed quite right. The job in Taiwan was at a language institute and would include teaching a lot of young learners. The job in China was with a new program and they wanted me to assume the head teacher position, which would include massive amounts of program planning as well as teaching. The job in Turkey was unpredictable hours. The job in Saudi came with a number of perks meant to counteract the restrictions of the culture, but I was still unsure. 

In the quiet of a Bethlehem afternoon, I read a staff email from my teaching job in the USA, announcing a new position that would opened in November. This position offered more hours and would involve teaching an intensive English class for newly arrived refugees. After an email conversation that lasted about a week, I surprised myself and submitted my updated resume and letter of interest to my supervisor. 

Around the same time, my 3 1/2 year old niece announced during a 1 a.m. Skype call (1 a.m. for me!) that "Mommy and I are getting a new baby!" I squealed at a volume that rivaled the squeal of my apartment-mate in Beit Sahour when she found out earlier that evening that we had a mouse. (The mouse became known as LeRoy and he was relocated successfully to the garden after several weeks.) Th news that there would be another baby in the family filled me with excitement and added to my growing sense that maybe I shouldn't take a job overseas just yet. 

I left Palestine at the beginning of November. I'm not sure if I left part of my heart there or if I brought part of Palestine home in my heart, but regardless, the six weeks I spent there had an incredible impact on me. I flew via Frankfurt, Germany, and arrived later the same day in Rome. A friend had spent a month in Italy studying Italian and we had planned to spend the last few days of her time in Rome together. I arrived around midnight at a gorgeous apartment, a few hundred feet from the Spanish Steps. 

The next few days were spent revisiting Rome. I enjoyed a coffee at a coffeeshop founded in 1760 with a long history of famous patrons. I wandered with camera in hand to some of my favorite sites. Meredith and I window shopped and savored gelato and delicious meals at some of her favorite spots.  We talked as I struggled to begin to make sense of my last two months, trying to understand freedom, injustice, reconciliation, and peace. Our trip culminated in a fantastic morning vespa tour of the "hidden" history of Rome. Valerio and Ipazzio were excellent tour guides. 

On November 9th, I left Rome to fly back to D.C., flying again through Frankfurt. I sat an airport coffee bar, struck by the irony that as I left one place divided by a massive wall, I was watching news stories on the 25th anniversary of the collapse of another wall. Berlin's wall may be history, but the wall cutting through Palestine still stands. 

I arrived in the USA later that day, a Sunday, and my new position officially started on Monday. I burrowed under my blankets to keep warm as I tried to plan a multi-level ESL class for refugees who had been in the USA less than a month and simultaneously finish my project. Cold, gray November days blurred together as my eyes became strained from endless hours of looking at a computer screen and reading about teaching strategies.

December 8th was the first day of my new class. December 13th was the deadline for my capstone project and the deadline for proposal submissions for an ESL conference. December 21st was the due date for my comprehensive exam. In any spare minute, I searched for possible apartments to rent (My parents are now both back in the USA and living in their apartment, which I had been renting in their absence.) December was a month were every minute counted and if I wasn't editing my thesis or writing a lesson plan, I was thinking about what I still needed to do. 

Miraculously, I survived. My supervisor accepted my thesis, my comprehensive exam completed on time, my classes stopped being quite as overwhelming to plan, and the committee for the ESL conference accepted my proposal without revisions.

My diploma arrived in the mail in January. It's official! I will walk in our graduation ceremony in May but it was celebration enough to finally see that piece of paper announcing that I am FINISHED! And now, one week remains in January! Although it still seems surreal that I don't have to do homework, I already find myself thinking about other ways to continue academically. My advisor and her husband were traveling in January and offered me the chance to house-sit for them, since I have yet to find an apartment that fits my budget. As I look around, their tables are decorated with my Arabic flashcards, International Phonetic Alphabet flashcards, printouts relating to teaching pronunciation and developing literacy, and a stack of library books. 

As I think about what I've just written, I'm amazed. I am blessed. In 2014, I visited Tanzania, Brazil, Palestine, and Italy. I turned 30. I graduated with a M.Ed TESOL. I started a new job. I learned more about my strengths and grew in some of my weak areas. I stopped caring about some things and became more passionate about others. I've been encouraged and supported by friends and family around the globe (literally!). It has been an incredible year. 2015 holds a lot of promise as well!   

Life in Transition, yet again.

Life, always interesting, has gotten a bit hectic lately.  I am so thankful that I only registered for one class this term.  In addition to Linguistics, which has been a very challenging class, I'm going to be starting work soon.  Thank you very much to those of you who have been praying for me as I've made a variety of decisions about work!

I have just received my final clearance for my teaching job.  I will take my collection of forms and clearances into the main office on Tuesday and I start teaching a class of adults on April 23.  This job will only be eight hours a week.  To supplement those hours, I'm going to be working at a local retirement village, as a part time home health aide.  I have a six hour orientation on Monday for that position.

On May 1, I'll have a new roommate moving into my flat.  Martha and I roomed together in university, and nine years later, we are going to try this again!

As I sit at my kitchen table, covered in a pretty yellow and orange striped tablecloth, I feel so excited.  Spring is here, the sunshine is lovely, and I'm making a home here.  I've been so encouraged by the friends I've been reconnecting with and the opportunities before me.  I love being able to pop over to my sister's house and say hi for a few minutes.  I finally feel as though I'm making some connections at church as well.  Like the bits of green popping up everywhere, this is a time for me to grow.  

On the Road

I think I've started a post about ten times and each time, I've just not finished it.  There are a number of reasons, lack of time, lack of means (I knocked my laptop to the the tile floor by accident while still in Mozambique and it is not turning on!) and a few other things, but either way, it's time to start writing again!

I can hardly believe that two weeks ago today, I was attending my last church service in Moz.  Various church people had presents for me and presented them to me in front of the entire congregation.  By the time they were finished, I had tears streaming down my face.  These are good people.  I have been blessed to get to know them. 

I left Moz on the following Monday.  The trip from Beira to Joburg to DC took a full 24 hours, plus a seven hour time change.  Normally, I have no problems sleeping on planes, but this 18 hour flight, sleep eluded me.  There was a surprisingly bad selection of films and a rather negative woman in the seat behind me (who didn't mind sharing her opinions rather loudly with her husband and those of us in a ten seat radius.)  Aside from that, the flight was uneventful.  I like adventures, but in terms of plane rides, uneventful is a good quality!  

It was wonderful to see family once back in PA.  I swapped my swim suits and sandals for sweaters and slippers, but the fall leaves are gorgeous and I love sitting by a fire on a chilly evening.  It doesn't hurt that there is usually a little Jack Russell Terrier who is happy to sit with me.

Farewell to the tropics

Today is my last full day in Mozambique.  I'm surprised by how sad I feel to say goodbye.  The church had a special place in the service to say goodbye to me.  I was given several really thoughtful gifts and during the process, I started crying.  I think that was actually a source of great entertainment for the church, although not in a malicious manner.

The community pool for my parent's little complex has been a source of much joy for me.  In the last few weeks, the pool's temperatures have soared to perfection.  It may not be an ideal pool by American standards (considering the water is very chlorinated and usually has a variety of palm fronds, ants, and occasionally a roach floating in its depths.  But I'll miss it.  I'll miss the little Bronze Mannikins who line up side by side on a branch of the almond tree to catch the last rays of the day.  I'll miss the pink blossoms of the frangipani.  I'll miss the bliss of warm water on a hot day.

 

My parent's house has been home for four months.  I keep snapping "just one more picture," wanting to capture people, places and memories in megapixels for preservation.  I have mementos taped into my journal to accompany my written notes and souvenirs packed into my suitcases.  But the best parts will still be here in Mozambique, waiting until I come back, whenever ever that may be.  In the meantime, I'm so thankful that I will be able to picture my folks at home and at work.  Mozambique and her people will have a special place in my heart.  

 

The next step of my journey will begin tomorrow.  I have a sneaking feeling that the East Coast of the USA will offer weather a teensy bit colder than I like.  Although goodbyes are making me sad today, with every goodbye there is another hello.  The hello at the end of this journey will be my US family :)  See you the other side of the Pond!

It has been odd to read about and see pictures of the effects of Hurricane Sandy on the East Coast and yet continue to enjoy the summer heat in Moz.  Our thoughts and prayers have been with and will continue to be with those of you on the East Coast. 

I am gearing up for another transition.  I have less than two weeks remaining here and I'm afraid the return to PA's winter might be a real shock to my body!  My four months in Moz have passed quickly and I have loved my time here.  My memories of Mozambique will be softly colored by sunlight and smell of the ocean. 

This lovely fellow is a Mangrove Kingfisher.  I love his colors!  The other day, he was flitting around the trees in our garden while I enjoyed the breeze and spent my quiet start to the day. 

 

And of course, I'll miss my little gecko friends.  We have spotted a new little one inside the house, but this fellow below is on our walkway between the carpark and the veranda.  

 

I recently came across a comment by Richard Fuller, who was an engineer and architect in the USA.  He said, "There is no such thing as a failed experiment, only experiments with unexpected outcomes.”  I rather liked that observation. 

Architecture and Fruit Shopping

Last night was a rough night for me due to a headache, so I skipped our morning Portuguese lesson.  Mom and Dad went on their own and had a good time learning the alphabet.  After they came home and we had lunch, we went out to run a few errands: looking for a tire, cloth for an embroidery lesson Mom will be teaching tomorrow, and also some fruit.  

I love taking pictures as we drive around the city.  I try to be sneaky when I take photos, so that most of my subjects are unaware.  I also enjoy taking photos of the architecture here.  This city is a mix of styles from the various groups who have run the country.  I love the oldest buildings.  I wish I could see what they would have looked like when they were newly constructed.  

Dad buying fruit from his favorite vendor

Fruit Market 

The more functional buildings aren't quite as pretty!

This last picture is of an old building that is home to a few different families now, as you can tell by the laundry hanging on the second balcony.  I think there are shops on the lower level.  

There are more difficult sights than the architecture.  On the way to the fabric shop for Mom's material, we saw a man crawling on his hands and knees across a fairly busy street.  He wore knee pads on his knees.  He was crawling because he only had his right foot.  Once we reached the store, I saw a second man on crutches, also missing a foot.  There are so many examples of how life is difficult here.  Not even a week into being here, it is still overwhelming.  There are so many different types of help needed, one doesn't know where to start.  

I started reading a new book while Mom and Dad were at their language lesson.  The first chapter reminds the reader that God has a unique and creative plan for each of our lives.  I'm so thankful that I don't have to create a plan for the people of Mozambique.  My creativity would shrink in the sight of the challenges they face.  But there is hope here (and I don't mean me!), and where this is hope, there is possibility.  There is a proverb of sorts which says, when the world says "Give up," Hope whispers, "Try it one more time."  I think many Mozambicans will keep trying one more time until something improves.  

Day 2 in Moz.

Today has been a slow day.  I couldn't fall asleep until two in the morning, and I slept until nearly eleven.  Mom made pancakes for breakfast/lunch for me, and then we talked for a while before walking down the beach.  My experience of Africa has not included beaches, other than Alexandria and Dahab in Egypt.  It feels somewhat disorienting, but I love the beach and I love Africa :)  I'm certain I can adapt.  

I love the many dug-out boats we saw.  This one had such a pretty multi-colored sail.  Mom said it is actually made of feed sacks!

There are many buildings in a very bad state, but I loved the style of this lovely one!

the golf course  "green"

A lot of Mozambique seems very different right now, but there are some things that remind me of Zim.  For instance, these trees have a long, machete like seed pod.  They are a variety of acacia (I think that's what Mom said) and I remember them from Zim!  And of course, bougainvillea's bright pink decorates many places in my memories.  

Here is a quick picture of Mom and Dad's veranda.  I'll try to get more pictures of the area, and I'm sure I'll end up with more than anyone will ever want to see!  

The Journey

Well, friends, I'm writing to you from Mozambique, hearing the call to pray echo across the city.  But first, I'll tell you about the journey here. I have four months to tell you about being here!

My travel started Wednesday morning, with packing up my grandparents' car.  After saying goodbyes to my sister, brother-in-law, and my adorable little niece, I ran a last few errands and then drove an hour to my grandparents to return their car.  I piled my suitcases on my aunt and uncle's porch, and spent an hour or so chatting with family until my aunt got home. Then we loaded my suitcases (minus my little travel pillow, which apparently grew little legs and ran off with one of the kids) and we drove to DC.  From there, I checked into my flight in record time.  I was at the airport three hours early, and conveniently, no one else was in the queue for check-in.  I walked straight up, checked both bags straight through to my final destination, and then went through security.  That also went very smoothly.  I think both check-in and security took about thirty minutes.  My next stop was to find another travel pillow in an airport shop, buy some water, and then settle in to wait.

I had a slight moment of panic when the staff at the gate for my flight wanted to weigh all hand luggage.  I've learned that the best way to avoid overweight checked baggage is to put books in my hand luggage, but this did not bode well for my hand luggage.  Being rather sneaky, I quickly rearranged my hand luggage so the weight was split between my "hand luggage" and my "personal item" (which is a rather large purse!).  They only weighed the one, said it was fine, and then I went back to my seat and switched it around again, putting what I would need during the flight in the bag that would be under my seat.

After my final texts were sent and phone calls made, I turned off my phone and prepared to board.  I was on an Airbus 340, and the center luggage compartments are very high for a 5'2'' person.  A very kind man saw me trying to figure out how to put my bag up, and he took it for me.

The flight was reasonably full, but the seat next to me (I was on the center aisle) was vacant.  I came to appreciate that much later in the flight.

We took off at about 5:45 p.m.  Once we could, I turned on my little entertainment set and started scrolling through the movies.  I was not very sleepy during the flight, and I watched One Thousand Words (eh, it was ok but not really good), Salmon Fishing in the Yemen (LOVED IT!!!!), Hunger Games (Didn't read the books, but so many people keep talking about it I figured I might as well....I probably still will not read the books, nor would I buy the movie), Ice Age: Dawn of the Dinosaurs, and Madagascar.  Towards the last two, I was falling asleep.

We stopped in Dakar to fuel and take on some new passengers.  After a brief hour on the ground, we were off again, with another eight hours to reach Jo-berg.  By this point, I was starting to feel ill.  I don't know if it was the food, but I started to feel like I could be sick.  It was so nice to have the seat next to me available to stretch out a little more.  The flight attendant brought me Schweppes Ginger Ale and a hot wash cloth and I started praying that I would survive the flight.  I dozed a little bit and by the time we landed, I felt reasonable but still not very good.  I walked down the steps of the plane to the shuttle for the terminal with a gorgeous African sunset glowing in the distance.

Once in the airport, I started feeling ill again.  I also had to decide if I needed to go to the International Transfer section or Immigration.  Technically, I was continuing on to another destination, but I knew I would need to go through Immigration in order to go to my hotel for the night.  With a deep breathe (more to calm my stomach), I went through Immigration.  After Immigration, I came to baggage claim.  Dad had said I would probably need to collect and then recheck my bags.  I waited and waited until the very last bags were circling on the carousel, but neither of my bags were there.  I went to the man who was collecting the last unclaimed bags and showed him my claim ticket.  He assured me my bags would have been sent straight to my next flight.  Hesitantly, with another prayer for divine provision, I went through Customs and found my way to the City Lodge.  Thankfully, I had packed my pjs in my hand luggage.

The next day, I repacked and found my way to the appropriate counter for my next flight.  The woman working could only tell me that my luggage was in their system, but she could not guarantee that it would be on my flight.  Apparently there was no way to tell exactly where my suitcases were located.  With another prayer, I went through security and to my gate.  After waiting another hour, I boarded my second plane.  This was a much smaller Embraer 135.  To give an idea of how small it was, I was in seat 4B.  The flight was only an hour and half.  Before I knew it, we were landing at the "aeropuerto internacional de beira."  All twelve of us deplaned and went through Immigration.  I could then go to the luggage carousel and...my bags were both there!  Both locks were broken but they were there!  I then had to x-ray all of my belongings, shuffle them back onto the cart while six men watched without helping, and then I could go get my visa.  After that, I was able to give my parents big hugs!

On the way to their house, they took me to the beach for my first glimpse of the Indian Ocean.  The rest of evening was spent at Mom and Dad's house.  And so begins my time in Moz.

Changed

I must say, England will have left her mark on me.  There are things I've come to love about this place, although the ever changing weather isn't one of them.  However, last night, as I lay curled in bed, trying to sleep but with a headache that made it impossible to sleep, I started to think of the things I have learned to appreciate.

1.  Cornish Pasties-a pastry filled with some delicious concoction.  My favorite is broccoli and cheese, although I do like others as well.


2.  Hot Water Bottles-wonderful.  On a cold night, it's so nice to wrap yourself around a hot water bottle or with a headache, as I did last night, to rest it behind your neck.  I have a soft fleece cover for my hot water bottle and believe me, it gets used a lot!

3.  Lemsips-a powdered lemon drink with paracetamol.  You add hot water to it and it is a drink as well as your medicine for a cold, sinus pain, or some sort of flu.  They actually taste good!

4.  Hot drinks-Oh yes.  I realized the other day while talking with my sister, I think I drink at least five hot drinks a day here.  One cup of coffee, sometimes two, and the rest are tea.  Rooibos (an herbal tea), a fruity herbal tea, or green tea...I'm still not a fan of black tea and personally I think Earl Gray is sludge in a cup, but I do like my herbal teas.  I think I'm truly adapting because I've noticed a certain pattern: I come home, I set down my handbag, and I walk straight to the kitchen to boil the kettle.  Once the tea is made, I can sit down, breathe deeply, and drink my tea to settle in to being home.

Which brings me to the next thing...
5.  Electric Kettles!  I love 'em and use it every day, several times a day!  (Three earlier "likes" all relate back to this one!)

6.  Cockney Rhyming-tthis particular slang is really entertaining and I don't quite get it.  However, my housemate is teaching me a few phrases here and there.  For instance, "Get your daisy roots" would mean "Get your boots."  "Up the apple and pears" would mean "Up the stairs."  And for you gents, "Here comes me trouble and strife," would mean "Here comes my wife!"

Actually, there are a lot of phrases that the British use that I have come to appreciate.  "Everything's gone pear-shaped," (meaning, it went terribly wrong) is one that I've adopted to use from time to time.  Regardless, three years here has had an affect on me.  It makes me think of Thomas Wolfe's famous words, "You can't go home again."  Everywhere we travel changes us and we can never be the same, nor does "home" remain constant while we are gone.  I think we can consider that with sadness and regret or with excitement and anticipation.  I prefer excitement and anticipation!

Sunday chats

As I took the tube to central London yesterday, a little girl and her dad sat across from me.  When we got to Stratford, he pointed out the construction works for the new Westfield.  

"Do you see that?  That is going to be an incredible shopping centre..."

The little girl responded in a high, childish voice, "Really?  Surely it can't be better than Harrods!"  

I tried to hid my chuckle.  She looked about eight years old, and I found it so funny that she clearly has already formed an opinion of Harrod's as THE standard of shopping.

A good friend of ours left London yesterday.  A few of us were able to sit and have a last coffee and chat with Jasmin before she left.  

London is  a very transient city.  I've only been here two and half years and in that time, I've already said goodbye to many friends who have moved on to somewhere else.  Perhaps some of it is because many of my friends are still single and students.  Regardless, it is one of the more difficult sides of living in London.  But I appreciated Jasmin's attitude as she left.  As we hugged goodbye, her comment was, "See you later," rather than "Goodbye."  I like the sound of that!