This is an African sunset

cindy lauper hair

More observations from the front lines (aka, how to be cool in high school):

*Somehow it's cool again to shave half your head and leave the other side of your hair long
*curse as much as possible = really really cool
*if you laugh out loud, be sure to look nervously around at the rest of the students in your group to make sure they're laughing as well (if they're not, start sneezing or something to mask that you thought something was funny that nobody else did)
*If you're a jock (and male), be sure to wear gigantic athletic shorts (that come near your ankles), at least 2 pairs of shorts underneath those, and don't bother to tie your shoes
*Be against the man (who's the man? why, whoever you want of course) and ready to protest something, anything at any moment's notice
*make lots of noise, wander around the room, ask the teacher if she has anything to munch, and giggle obnoxiously - and then brag about being stoned (in a voice that surely no teacher could hear...if that teacher is 103 and completely deaf)
*when you're texting someone, hold your phone just below your backpack so that no teacher can see you (again, if that teacher is 103 and completely blind)
*nod and sing audibly to your ipod in the middle of class (don't worry, nobody knows you're way off) - if you're really into it, even break into a headbang every now and then

Ha, these kids crack me up! And to think of all the stuff we thought was cool in high school...oh how little it changes (except for the whole 80's hair comeback, sick and gross)

Platanos

Hello Hello, I have a random assortment of things to say today...
First, I caught a whiff of something that smelled like Costa Rica today (to be specific, smelled like frying plantains, aka platanos) and it made me a little home sick. How is it that I still feel home sick for Costa Rica, 2 and a half years later?

Thoughts of Costa Rica made me think about how little I've traveled - in relation to the size of the world - and how many places I want to go (everywhere). I feel sad for people I've met who have never been anywhere...even recognizing that most of them don't want to go anywhere, still I feel sad because there's SO much out there! Going places outside the US puts such a different perspective on living in the US too...and I think we all need that.

Second (or third?), and entirely unrelated, I've decided that not all middle school children are hoodlums after subbing at 2 different, non-wretched mid schools this week. As I stood against the wall watching the school talent show today, I realized that, on a good day, I really like these kids. I think they're pretty much hilarious...and the funniest part is that they don't even know it. For all their attempts to be cool, these 12 and 13 year olds still have the tiniest bit of innocence and unintentional little-kid-goofiness left in them...some of them do anyway. The talent show today was complete with not just one, but two singing versions of "On My Own" (les mis...I think), a gymnastics floor routine, the sightless (due to serious hair coverage of the eyes) emo kid playing guitar, men and women's show choirs (can you call 12 and 13 year old choirs "men's" and "women's"?), a juggling act to Napoleon Dynamite's Jamiroquai song (how do you spell jamiroquai?) and of course, the ever-required garage band nirvana cover (the fastest "smells like teen spirit" I have ever heard...they were on fiii-yuh!). The men's choir sang and danced to "Blue" - which I haven't heard since my own middle school days...or maybe it was high school, but nevertheless, it's been a long long time since I heard 'blue, da ba di, da ba doo'...ha! Very entertaining.

Ok, and the highlight of my week: yesterday a kid in the english class I was subbing for drew a picture of me (my face) and wrote: Mrs. Fraser, I love science!
Ha! Such flattery, I love it!

Oh yeah, one more thing, I changed my o-fficial name on here to Sarita because I felt like it...but it's the same me (mostly at least...except I'm a little more glass half full than I was when I started this), don't get confused!

Hoodlums

Can I just tell you how NOT fun it is to be a subsitute teacher for devil children? Somehow these patience-tryers (aka middle schoolers) know when I'm tired and that is when they turn into horrid screaming hoodlums...
I'm tired today (can you tell)
I took a job at a school 45 minutes away from my house because it was either that or a school for delinquents (the real ones, who've been caught)
I had to keep 7th graders from killing each other (or at least from throwing things across the room) all day
I did not have fun

Here's a list of what I've learned as an official substitute going on 3 weeks now:
1) Your students will assume that, as a huera (white girl), you don't speak any spanish
2) It is pretty fun to suprise them by knowing what they've said and responding accordingly
3) The trouble arises when they go beyond your rusty knowledge of espanol (or when they go too fast)...
4) my memories of middle school as being an awful time of life don't fail me - middle school continues to be awful, despite that i'm now 23 and i don't care what other people think of me
5) How did wearing girl pants, when you're a boy, get cool? can i just say that that is the most ridiculous look...if you want tight pants, please, just buy some tight boy pants because they are made to fit you (and girl pants are not - hence why, in case you were wondering, they don't cover your butt at all, not even a little bit)
6) 8th graders are stuck, and i mean stuck, on sex - every thought, every word, every comment, every joke, etc. etc. etc.
7) 7th graders don't get sarcasm...pity
8) movies = time to scream, run around the room, throw things, be generally obnoxious for middle schoolers (as opposed to high schoolers, who actually watch and try to learn things)
9) please God, don't give me a job teaching middle school devils
10) and last, but not least, i've discovered that eyes are no longer needed...i've been amazed by the emo kids who have no eyes...or hair that hangs down to their noses and which is never, ever swept aside for the purpose of seeing things...apparently seeing is no longer necessary or even enjoyed...at least not by the boys who wear girl pants that are WAY too small

Illustrating the stories...

First, feeding a giraffe...and an up-close-and-personal giraffe tongue.








And this is typical traffic...in the middle of the city mind you. We're in a jam at one of the stinkin' roundabouts. Note the at least 2 lanes of traffic in the dirt on the left (the actual road is paved).

the capital F

Well friends, I'm taking a brief break from the Africa stories. Sort of.
I think that the number one thing that I brought back was a changed heart...
I don't want to explain why exactly (or how) my heart needed change, probably most of you know anyway, but the fact was that there was no longer life in my heart prior to going. Somehow God made little green shoots start to come up from my heart while I was in Kenya. I don't know how exactly - maybe it was the beauty of the country, maybe it was falling so in love with the girls at the center, maybe it was being around people who praise God with every breath... I guess it doesn't really matter how, it just matters that God made my heart alive again.

Freedom is what I have sought so desperately for the last year. I couldn't even really put into words just what exactly "Freedom" is or how to find it, I just knew that I wanted it. Amazingly enough, when I stopped trying so hard to find Freedom, God freed me.

Now that I've returned home, I feel like I'm fighting to hang on to that freedom, not to go back into old patterns and habits. The fact remains though, that my heart is so very changed. I think that, besides processing through the Africa experience and thinking about the changes in me, having read a couple Ayn Rand books lately has also put me into a deep-thought mode. Please know that I read Rand books with a mountain of salt (not just a grain), and that I disagree with a lot of what she has to say. I haven't read her pure philosophy books, so I don't have the whole story, but regardless, what she expounds in her fiction (like Atlas Shrugged) doesn't match up with the Bible, therefore I cannot take it as truth. Despite all that though, I do agree in part with what she says. Like doing what is right, because it's right - I agree that that is how we ought to live. Like being confident and sure of yourself (to an extent) - yeah. Like living life to the fullest - for sure.

Speaking in motives though, here's the difference: I am confident because every good thing in me (EVERY good thing) is from God. I don't believe that there is a single aspect of me, that is good, that is not because of the work that God does to change me. That's a fuller realization from Africa...I think I half way believed that all that was good in me was from God, but I didn't realize the connection to confidence in that. Because these good things were put in me by God, who is right and perfect, that means that I can be confident. And it means that I am worth being loved by the best that I can find, if God should allow me to marry someone. As far as doing what is right goes, how does one know what's right? Sometimes it's terribly hard to know...but because I have the Holy Spirit living in me and the Bible to read, I can know what is right. And I ought to do it without regard to the consequences. And doing what is right leads right into living life fully. I know that Heaven will be better, and often I long for it. I also know though that God didn't give us the ability to laugh or to love or interests in various things for nothing...I know that this life can be enjoyed, and it should be by those filled within by Joy from God.

So all that said, having had miraculous heart surgery in Africa, I am suddenly aware that it's ok to be single. Huh? Where's the connection? Well, I realized that I somehow put some value on myself because of a relationship that I had, and since that relationship was over, twice, that left me reeling in more ways than one. Here's the thing: I can be, and should be, confident in who I am now, especially in light of who I will be. I am worth something because of my Lord within me, totally regardless of whether I'm loved or not. I am also fully satisfied by the love of God within me - the love that surpasses knowledge (and boy, does it!) - Eph 3. He will NEVER EVER stop loving me. I can't even comprhend that, except to know that my heart is free, Free!

Animules

I know, I know, I'm breaking the unspoken blog rules by posting every day...but you'll have to get over it as I have immense amounts of african stories that I want to write about!
So, today I'm going to tell you about my Kenyan-Safari-Replacement-Day. Because I was a little too poor to venture off into the bush and see some lions and such, one of the missionaries took me for a safari replacement day-oh-wonder.

First, we went to feed giraffes. Things I learned about giraffes include: they are huge (HUGE) up close! they have long black tongues...that slime ya good as you put food pellets on them! giraffes also have incredibly long eyelashes, which i realize is a random fact, but they're amazing.... one last, and important fact, is that giraffes are known to headbutt you if you neglect to feed them in a timely fashion...and since their heads are a good 2 feet long, it is wise to avoid the headbutting by continuously forking over more pellets. You too should find a place to feed giraffes someday - perhaps at the Giraffe Centre in Karen, Kenya??? Just watch out for slime galore.

The second place we went was the David Sheldrick Elephant Orphanage. This is run by an english lady (Mrs. Sheldrick) who is world-renowned by earth conservation types (that would be the tree huggers - of which i must say i am a bit on the tree huggerish side). She rescues baby elephants and raises them until they can fend for themselves, finally releasing them to a herd in the wild. Since baby elephants only drink milk for the first two years of life, they're out of luck for survival if the mother dies - so Mrs. Sheldrick and her team rescue and raise these babies. Let me just tell you, baby elephants are so cute! It's kinda funny to see a huge elephant in a little baby body...and to see them play like little kids - squirting mud on each other, kicking a ball around. Very, very cute.

The third place we saw was the Safari Walk in the Nairobi National Park. This safari walk is basically a zoo...which somehow almost seems wrong when it's in Africa...but nonetheless, I loved it! I am pretty much like a 10 yr. old about zoos - I love them! I saw all kinds of animals - pygmy hippos (which are ridiculously ugly by the way), albino zebras, some kind of long-haired monkeys, a lion, fighting cheetahs (the female wasn't so fond of the male or his intentions), a rhino, about 20 different kinds of gazelles...all of which were beautiful.

After all this animal galavanting around, Rose (the missionary) and I decided we were in need of sustenance so we stopped at the Karen Tea Shoppe. This was possibly the weirdest moment of the entire month because as soon as we entered the garden for the restaurant, it was like we'd walked into some european garden. This place had a jazz band playing cheesy songs with a singer who sounded like Louis Armstrong...everybody eating was foreign (like from europe)...the entire menu did not have one african meal choice (i had cheesy pasta) aside from the drink offerings...even the waitstaff spoke with faintly british accents. The english in Kenya is full of british words (like smart, queue, torch, etc.), however not many Kenyan people actually speak with british accents....except for in this magic garden. So weird, you'd never guess you were in the middle of east africa as you sat in this tea shop.

After eating, we decided to continue on our european path to see Karen Blixen's house (which is a museum). Karen Blixen was a Danish colonial settler in Kenya for several years who became famous when she wrote "Out of Africa" under the name Isak Dinesen. You may have seen the Meryl Streep and Robert Redford movie. Anyway, her house has been preserved and it was pretty incredible. The things that the colonials took with them to Africa are unreal - like grandfather clocks and china dishes! She did have a huge lion rug in one of the bedrooms and it was pretty terrifying - there is no way I could sleep with that thing in my room! It's head was huge! and it was grimacing, like as if it should have been growling...with its eyes looking straight at you...oooh, creepy! She possibly was the one who killed that lion - so I guess it may have been like a trophy, but still...gee whiz. Outside the house is a view of her beloved Ngong hills - and they truly were spectacularly beautiful. Karen (the town, named after her) is outside the crush of Nairobi so it is a lot greener, a lot slower, lots more flowers and animals - generally a nicer place. Adding to the view was a wedding reception that was taking place on the grounds of the museum. This was a serious affair - ribbons and bows and tulle everywhere, several hundred people, a live band, even security guards that looked suspiciously like bouncers (big arm muscles, tight t-shirts, black sunglasses). Weddings are a big deal in Kenya - you decorate the cars with massive amounts of ribbons and flower bouquets and you invite the entire town - but this wedding must have been for someone very important.

The day was ended by pizza and a movie at Rose's house...pizza that was very close to american pizza, and catch me if you can (which is a very entertaining movie, by the way).

So, this has gotten way, way too long...
But, it was a pretty wonderful day - animals, views, museums, and pizza (after weeks of rice, beans, and peas in assorted variations) what more could you ask for?

African massages

So, everytime you venture out in a car in Nairobi, you're absolutely taking your life into your own hands... For one thing, if roads are not paved, be prepared for an African massage (as our driver affectionately referred to unpaved rides) because the pajero (like a land rover) you're riding in will be sailing over speed bumps the size of small busses (no kidding, really, there are massive speed bumps on roads that really, REALLY need no help in slowing people down in the first place and a car my size (honda accord) would have no chance making it over these things, not even one wheel at a time), through potholes the size of small cars (no exaggeration my friends), around thousands of people, goats, chickens, and stopped matatus (public transportation system), avoiding the really deep mud holes, all of which = lots of fun (aka car-sickness inducing entertainment). On paved roads you have a slightly better time of it, although the potholes are frequent and sometimes massive...and you play African chicken pretty often too. African chicken would be when a car is coming directly towards you, fast as it can go...who moves first??? You know how people generally tend to wait to pass others on small highways in the US, at least until the oncoming traffic is far away? Well, no such polite driving in Nairobi, nosirree, passing is a fair option at any time, especially when you're in the midst of speedy oncoming traffic and your line of cars is about a million long (so you won't be able to get back in your lane for quite some time). I think African chicken may have been invented for the sole purpose of terrifying tourists...well, for 2 purposes, terror and getting ahead of the bloody slow pajero (or 10) in front of you. Another roadside attraction (besides pot holes, goats, and people) is the infamous roundabout. Who invented these things and expected them to work? I expect that my american love for traffic lights is a bit too refined since people the world over rely on roundabouts, but really! Mass chaos should be the aka for roundabouts! I asked the missionaries if it was hard to adjust to driving (since I could see no clear driving rules or patterns) and they all said that it wasn't so bad because the traffic around you sort of trained you...which is all well and good, especially if you're in the driver's seat. In the passenger's seat however, I never could tell how you were supposed to know when it was your turn to go or wait, how you merged over 6+ lanes of traffic going around the roundabout in time to make your exit, how you didn't get killed every time...God is good to the drivers of Kenya! All said and done though, I must say that the driving was at least entertaining. I was glad to be a passenger and not a driver! It all makes the driving in america seem so incredibly tame...and smooth. I'll never complain about a bumpy brick road in Lubbock again!

For when YOU go to Kenya (to be continued)

Some swahili words to learn (repeat after me students):
Jambo = hello
Asante = thank you
Asante sana = thank you very much
Karibu = welcome
Maji = water
Safi = clean
Maji safi ya kunywa = clean water for drinking

Some meals to eat:
Ugali (aka, ewww, gali... this is not the most tasty of culinary offerings...pretty much just fills the hole as it is a cake made solely of corn flour and water)
beans and rice
rice and beans
peas, beans, and rice
potatoes, peas, beans
potatoes, peas, rice
cabbage
rice and cabbage
various combinations of the above fare

Fruits to enjoy:
Pineapple
Mango
Apples
Watermelon
Oranges (not so great actually)

Driving to prepare for:
no lanes
no lights
few (and possibly optional) stop signs
many, many roundabouts (read: total and complete chaos for the casual observer)
left-sided driving (think british)
lots of hooting horns for apparent and non-apparent reasons
matatus = public transportation - nissan vans holding up to 14 people, including those hanging on the door and out the windows - they make up their own rules and try to beat the potholes by going as fast as possible over them (I didn't actually get to experience the matatu from the inside as we had drivers everywhere)
2 lane roads turned into 6+ lanes
medians and road sides (including sidewalks) = completely acceptable driving areas
pedestrians = approximately 3 million of the 3.5 million inhabitants of Nairobi will be walking, with no fear, alongside the road at all times of day and night
bikes = also fearless (and often roadkill)
animal life = occasional baboons or giraffes to be seen along the road

I love Kenya!