Aaron is FIFTEEN

Look at this cute little guy! It's Aaron and yesterday was his birthday. So this post is dedicated to our firstborn son...Aaron Jackson Kelley! Aaron was born in Texas and had his first birthday there too. Unfortunately, that was before digital cameras and I don't have any other of his cute baby pictures with us. Aaron turned 2 in Jordan and when he turned 3 (in Jordan too) he was a big brother to a newborn brother. He turned 4 in Sudan, 5 back in Jordan (because his second little brother was born there just a month earlier), and 6 in Texas. Aaron turned 7 in Sudan and now...finally, a picture. Aaron's 8th birthday in Sudan. Here he is with two of his buddies, one from Kenya and one from Finland/Germany.

And when he turned 9, well, same house, same table, same friends, same cups! Ha! Good to see that at least I had different plates! 

Aaron turned 10, same house, yes, same table and all of that, same friends...so I chose a different shot...the trampoline :)

OK, Aaron turned 11, but I'll spare you the picture. Actually, you should know that we branched out that year and had his party at a park! But I didn't have a good picture to put here, so I am adding a picture taken a few weeks later at the church Christmas program where Aaron was a shepherd and his brothers were angelic angels :)

Here is Aaron with some of his bestest friends in Sudan...

Aaron turned 12 back in Texas and before you know it...we were moving again! This time to Indonesia. Aaron turned 13 in Bandung.

And turned 14 in Palembang because...you guessed it...we moved again.

And to keep with the theme, Aaron is celebrating his 15 year birthday in a new country. We are SO happy to get to go to Malaysia to celebrate with him! Woohoo! We are so proud of this guy and so happy that God gave him to our family! Happy 15th Aaron!

Hangin' Clothes

I hang our clothes to dry on our roof. What? Everyone doesn't do that? Well, not everyone has a roof that looks like this... 

By the way, I am not sitting in a blue basket and neither are those my giant hips. It's just a weird angle for the picture, ok?

I love the view I get from our roof. I always take a few minutes to enjoy it before getting down to the task of hanging up or taking down the clothes. Here is what I get to see...

Sorry, it was a little hazy the day I took that picture. But it is a great view. I also get to enjoy the palm trees that grow right up and look like they are giant potted plants on the roof!

The other day I got a kick out of the little neighbor boys enjoying a swim in an impromptu swimming pool. Complete with innertube!

And I always look over the edge of our roof to check out the ditch below...

Did you see it? Look closer!! OK, I will zoom in for you...

I like to see the monitor lizard that hangs out in the ditch. This guy is several feet long, although he is smaller than the one who used to live there. Don't you think it is cool to have a monitor lizard that lives next door?

Yup, just a regular 'ole trip up to the roof to hang out the clothes and count my blessings!

Who's The Rude One?

I have lived in Asia for most of my life, but who am I fooling? I’m not Asian. My fair skin and my blonde hair make me stick out like sore thumb.  I love rice, tropical weather, exotic fruit and the ocean. I even have adopted a lot of “Asian” ways of doing things. But there’s one thing I have never grown accustomed to: the staring. Oh, they mean no harm, and I tell myself that all the time. But the incessant and unabashed staring has always been my pet peeve. And then there are the attempts to sneak pictures of me, as if I don’t notice their cameras sneakily aimed at me while the photographer nonchalantly looks off somewhere else while snapping the picture. Now, understand, this is not because I am famous or beautiful, but simply because I am a blonde-headed foreigner in Asia. I try to be patient, but I’ll just be honest, it’s irritating.

One day, I was shopping at a mall and I stepped into the restroom. As I washed my hands at the sink, I glanced in the mirror and noticed a couple of ladies in the reflection. They were standing across the room behind me and were obviously talking about me. Ugh! I was so irritated. Why couldn’t I shop at a mall in peace for once? And for Pete’s sake, why couldn’t I go to the powder room in peace? They giggled and whispered and stole glances at me that they were sure were secret, but to me were obvious. Why did they have to be like that?

I wanted them to know how rude their behavior was. In my mind, I gave them a scolding. But, not wanting to be an “ugly American”, I did not actually say any of my speech to them. As I turned to leave the restroom, I didn’t look at them and smile, as I usually would have. I just walked by and ignored them. From behind me, I could hear one of the ladies speak to the other one, “She’s so pretty!”

I gulped as a wave of guilt flowed over me. It was not them that had been rude, it was me! They probably did not speak directly to me for fear I would not understand their language. And me? I had rejected two ladies in whose country I was a guest. Two ladies who needed God’s love, not another woman’s judgment

Oh Lord, give me patience when the culture I live in irritates me. I want to be treated with respect, but please help me to do the same for others, even in my mind!

Fun Words Part 2

I had fun reading your comments on the blog and Facebook about Fun Words. Since word clouds are my new favorite thing, I made a word cloud out of all the words you and I thought of! Enjoy!

Word cloud made with WordItOut

Thanksgiving Feast: Cross-Cultural Style!

We had a great Thanksgiving Day, celebrating with many other fellow-workers. My friend Barbara is my guest blogger for this post! You won't want to miss her story "behind the scenes" at our Thanksgiving Meal. It's hilarious!

Last week a friend and I had the privilege of cooking 
Thanksgiving dinner for 120 Americans.... In the simple 
kitchen of a hotel two hours outside of our city.   Nine 
turkeys were ordered from a local importer and baked prior 
to the gathering along with plenty of pecan and pumpkin 
desserts – pecans thanks to some care packages from the 
US,  local squash was boiled and mashed to substitute for 
cans of pumpkin.  Two gallons of celery, sage (brought in 
my suitcase last year), onions and parsley were cooked and 
frozen ahead of time along with pan after pan of corn 
bread in preparation for making dressing.  But, even all 
this work done in advance did not prepare me for cooking 
in the hotel kitchen!  My friend and I have promised to 
never speak about the hotel kitchen’s cleanliness (um… 
lack of cleanliness…) with another person.  So, I won’t 
even mention all of the living creatures we encountered. 
 Nor will I mention the fact that the kitchen did not have 
a single wash rag or towel.  I won’t even mention that the 
same sink of dirty brown water (straight from the river??) 
was used all day long to “wash” dishes from breakfast, 
lunch, snacks and dinner for more than 300 hotel guests….. 
 Let’s just say, the entire experience was a cultural 
experience and was not for the faint of heart!  (Note to 
self…. Give family an extra dose or two of de-worming 
medicine ASAP!)

The kitchen equipment was mostly what I would call big 
“camp stoves” and woks the size of hula hoops.  Everything 
was giant sized and perfect for cooking for a crowd…. If 
one is a giant!  The pot they provided me with was so tall 
that it came up to my nose when sitting on the burner for 
cooking.  This was going to make stirring the gravy a 
challenge!  So, I asked the kitchen staff if I could perhaps 
use a smaller pot since I was too short to stir this one. 
 (Understand that none of these Asian men were much taller 
than my 5 foot 4 inches!)  After the men had a little 
pow-wow about how to solve my problem for me…. While I was 
trying to deny my urge to go grab and wash a dirty but 
smaller pot that I had spotted on the floor… the men came 
up with a solution they were satisfied would solve my 
dilemma.  One man disappeared out the back door of the 
kitchen and reappeared with a satisfied grin on his face 
carrying two bricks.  He deposited these two bricks on the 
floor in front of the stove, demonstrated how I should 
place one foot on each brick, and assured me that these 
bricks would make me tall enough to stir the pot.  Of 
course!  And, to think that I would have changed pots when 
there was a much better solution at hand.  Yes, I cooked 
for several hours balanced atop these bricks that were 
thoughtfully provided.

As I cooked, I was able to answer many questions for the 
hotel’s kitchen staff.  I noticed they would gather into 
 pow-wow sessions and then send a chosen delegate to ask 
me a question and report back with answers. Sometimes that 
pow-wow would all need to gather to explore a particularly 
interesting situation – like opening a can.   When opening 
the cans of cranberry sauce, the entire staff gathered to 
“ooooh” and “aaaaah” over the process.  The conversation 
went something like this….. “What is that” “Can opener.” 
 “It is fast!”  “Yes.”  “Did you bring that from America?” 
 “No, I bought it at the mall here.”  “Look how that opens 
cans!  That must be something new!”  “Ya, it’s really 
helpful.”   The most common question asked was, “What is 
that??”  Answers to that question included Turkey; Mashed 
potatoes; Dressing; Gravy; Cranberries……  But, thankfully 
I was also able to tell them about how Thanksgiving Day is 
a time to thank God for all his blessings and provision. 
 Hopefully they will remember the message of Thanksgiving 
even longer than they remember the amazing can opener. 
 And, by God’s grace , I pray I was gracious, kind and 
thankful while cooking a huge meal, on a tight schedule 
with an audience of local men watching, questioning and 
“helping".

Are You in the Minority? (A TCK Moment)

The other day we were having family worship. We were studying a passage from Ephesians and talking about the believers in Ephesus. Kris asked the boys, "Have you ever been in a place where you felt like you were in the minority?" We waited for the obvious answer. I mean, think about it: the boys have lived all of their lives either in the Middle East (think "White boy surrounded by Arabs"), Africa (think "White boy in Africa") or in Asia (think "White boy in Asia") and have always lived in predominately Muslim cultures. So, yes, the answer seemed very obvious...to Kris and me. The boys thought and thought and finally, each one said, "No, I can't think of a time when I felt like I was in the minority."

I had to smile! I love TCKs! Do you know what that is? It's a kid who is from one culture, grows up in another culture, and therefore develops his or her own (third) culture. And TCKs have awesome answers to questions we think are obvious. I say "we" here because I have learned to be somewhat American, but I am actually a TCK myself. Which explains why I loved their answer! Ha! Finally one of them came up with an answer. You know when it was that he felt like he was in the minority? No really, go ahead, guess! It was when he went to public school in Texas! The one time he was surrounded by kids who were from his passport country! And you know why he said he felt like he was in the minority? It had more to do with the other kids' spiritual lives than it did to their language or skin color. Wow. He taught me a lesson and didn't even know he did!

I love that our kids are comfortable in their own "skin" (literally) and that they are sensitive to the spiritual state of the kids around them. They challenge me to look past the obvious and see the heart condition of those around me. TCKs see the world differently. Do you know a TCK? Give them a hug and tell them you appreciate them!

The Christmas Mouse

Today was about a game of cat and mouse...and Jana.  Can you guess who won? Well, it all started with the Christmas tree really...

Kris left just after lunch today and just about that time I began catching the head-cold that Seth and Joel already have. By the time we got home from dropping him off at the airport, all three of us were feeling pretty bad. But Thanksgiving is over and Christmas is on it's way. It is time for Christmas decorations. So, in spite of feeling under-the-weather, we decorated the house. Actually, I did most of it. But then it was time for the Christmas tree and Seth and Joel joined in.

I pulled the artificial tree out of the storage room and Joel and I began untying the string that held the long skinny tree box shut. As I began to pull out the tree, out skittered a tiny mouse!  What?! A mouse in our tree box?! Arrgh! It ran to the front door and tried to get out, but the door was locked shut. So it skittered BACK into the tree and box!

I remembered that Eddy the Cat was taking a nap in Aaron's room, so I ran to get him. In my excitement, I woke him up rather abruptly and he couldn't figure out what I was doing. He just looked up at me, sleepily and confused. I plopped the fat mouser in front of the box and proceeded to pull the tree out. Eddy, still perplexed as to what on earth I was trying to do, got freaked out by the sound of the pine needles scraping against the cardboard. He ran under the table to hide and while he was hiding from the pine needles, the mouse made a run for it. Good grief!

Well, we didn't know where that silly critter had gone and none of us knew where to start looking so we just went back to putting up the Christmas tree. We had a great time putting lights, tinsel and ornaments all over the tree. I have to say, though, that we'd jump every time we saw something brown or mousy looking. When we were done, the tree looked great. I spread a pretty Christmas cloth around the base of the tree to serve as the tree skirt.

It wasn't until about an hour later when Eddy was fully awake. He went into Aaron's room and I heard scuffling noises coming from there. I checked and, sure enough, Eddy had found the mouse. "Oh good," I thought to myself.  Well now, Eddy was so proud of himself. And he is no dummy, he's learned from the many lizards he has caught in the past, that he cannot bite too hard on his prey if he still wants them to get a head start when he lets them go. So he held the tiny mouse very gently as he wandered around, trying to figure out where to start the chase. I, in the mean time, was jumping from chair to chair and squeeling here and there whenever Eddy would drop the mouse and watch it run.

He finally decided on Seth and Joel's room to stage his little hunt. I left him alone in there, not wanted to see the yukky remains of the Christmas mouse. But a few minutes later I peeked in to check on the progress. Well, Eddy had let the mouse get away and it was behind a suitcase. I helped him by moving it and he caught the mouse again. But, as you might have guessed, he let it get away AGAIN. Well, by now I am getting frustrated with Eddy, who has no intention whatsoever of eating this mouse. The rodent ran behind Joel's bed, which is a large and heavy platform bed with a chest of drawers and bookshelf attached. There was no way I could move that thing. But that didn't stop me from trying a few times. Finally, after emptying drawers, pulling my back muscles, crawling on and under the bed and grumbling at Eddy the whole time, we found the mouse in a tiny space between the head of the bed and the wall.

For the next half hour Eddy and I worked (but not together, as we had different ideas on how this attack should go down) to catch that stupid mouse. I really would have just left Eddy alone, but this was the boys' room and they wouldn't be able to sleep if they knew there was a mouse in there. When I saw the little thing with a flashlight, I could see he was not injured at all. Eddy was on one side of the bed, waiting for the mouse to come. I had blocked the other side, which Eddy thought was a bad idea and kept moving my blockade. Finally, in disgust, I gave up on Eddy and I found some rat glue. Time to take matters into my own hands. I put the glue on the paper and planned to block one end, put the rat glue on the other, and remove Eddy. Dishonorable discharge. As I spread the glue on the paper, Eddy became distracted by a cat fight outside. Are you for real Eddy? Good grief. So he wasn't really watching, as he was supposed to be doing. Oh well, I crawled under the bed to replace the blockade (that Eddy had moved for the umpteenth time) and was in a very precarious position when I heard Eddy jumping at the mouse who was trying to make a break for it, literally under my nose! I am sure if anyone were there watching, they would have been amazed at my flying abilities. How I was under the bed one moment and across the room on top of Seth's bed the next is still a mystery to me.

OK, Eddy had the mouse again. Now to get him to leave the room and pick a smaller room like the bathroom. Have you noticed that cats don't follow orders like dogs do? He, yet again, disagreed with my idea. He wanted to go back to the boys' room, but he eventually chose the school room. And...can you say it again? He let the mouse go AGAIN. Injure the mouse already! But no, it got away and by then I was sweaty, out of breath and completely disgusted with my cat. Never mind, I don't even care where the mouse is anymore. The school room is right next to my bedroom, but whatever. I'm too tired to chase that silly thing any more. 

 So today was a game of cat and mouse...and Jana. I guess the Christmas Mouse won. If he doesn't die from exhaustion. That little guy got caught about 10 times this afternoon. And I am way mad at my cat. We aren't actually speaking at the moment.

Thanksgiving: We Thank the Lord for So Many Things. Here Are Some of Them!

Word cloud made with WordItOut

Fun Words

I like words. I like to read 'em and I like to write 'em. There are some words that are just fun. I especially like to hear and say those words. Do you know what I'm talking about? Words like smarmy. Isn't it fun to say?

smarmy!

Other languages have fun words too.

Gaptek. How awesome is that word? If you have a "gap" in your knowledge of technology, you suffer from gaptek!  That's Indonesian.

MOOSHkilluh. Boy, can't you just grab a hold of that word? That's Arabic for "problem" and it feels great to say it when you are talking about a problem!

How about NuEE? And there's not even a letter in this alphabet to write the funnest part of the word. That's what to say when you are calling a little girl to come over to shake your hand or whatever when you are in Eritrea. It's great fun to say.

Words are fun. They are fun because they have meaning. But on a purely shallow level, sometimes they are just fun to say! What are your favorite words?

Happy 10th Joel!

TEN YEARS ago our precious Joel joined the family! Happy Birthday JOEL!

We were living in Sudan at the time, but we went to Jordan for Joel to make his grand entry. He was welcomed by his two big brothers!

Joel has added smiles and laughter to our lives ever since!

What a fun three-some we have!

Big brother Seth, who is often mistaken as his twin, is helping to babysit!

Joel and his daddy!

Joel and his cousin Shelby!

Joel and his Aunt Michelle!

Joel spent his first birthday in Texas and his second birthday in Sudan.

Joel celebrated his third birthday in Sudan too. 

And when he turned four, he got to celebrate with his preschool class.

Happy Fifth, Joel! 

Joel often sports a Koolaid mustache

Aunt Julia took Joel for a special ice cream treat when he turned SIX. 

That's also the year he broke his arm. Brave kid!

How's that for a cool hair-do?

At birthday #7, Joel got to celebrate with his cousin Carl in Texas!

And got to spend time family...like Papa!

And got to learn the piano. Nice piano attire, huh? That's Texas-style!

Joel and Aunt April!

Then we moved to Indonesia and Joel got to celebrate #8 with friends in Bandung.

And #9 with friends in Palembang.

And this year, he turned 10. Wow! He got a Robo Hamster named Hammie. You can Google "Roborovski Hamster" to see how tiny these little guys are. Our cat Eddie likes Hammie too. Eddie would like to rename him "Snack".

Happy Birthday to our 10 year old. We love you, Joel!

Five Times a Day

I’m nothing unusual really, just a little cup in the hands of a young nomad woman. She has six other cups just like me. I don’t even have a handle and I am not very big at all. A finjaan is what I’m called, and I hold coffee for my owner five times a day.

The young nomad woman sets the other cups and me on a little metal tray.

Clink...clink...clink

She sets the tray on the dirt beside her little charcoal stove and begins to fan the coals with one hand while shaking a metal cup of coffee beans over the heat with the other.

Rattle...rattle...rattle

The beans begin to smoke and the aroma fills the round dome-shaped tent of the nomad woman. Laughter fills the room; deep chuckles and throaty voices of old men. They are reclining on blankets and mats in the tent as they wait for their coffee to be served.  The man with the big grin and missing teeth is the young nomad woman’s husband. He is old, but he is kind. She has borne him a child already, so he is very proud of her. Her tiny baby boy is sleeping in a bundle on her back. She has tied him there and he is quiet and peaceful.  The nomad lady puts the coffee beans in a thick wooden cylinder and pounds them with a heavy metal rod.

Thump...thump...thump

She pounds the beans, along with a large piece of ginger, then coaxes the grounds into the long thin spout of her gourd-shaped clay coffee pot. She pours water in and sets the pot on the coals.  The drops of water that escaped down the sides of the pot now sizzle on the fire.

Ssss...ssss...ssss

When the coffee bubbles, she knows it is almost ready. She removes the pot before the dark froth bubbles up the long spout and spills out onto the coals.  She sets the round clay pot on a ring made of reeds that keeps it sitting upright while the coffee grounds settle to the bottom.  She picks up something that looks like a wad of crumpled string. It is really a tangled ball of camel tail hairs. She has crafted them into a filter that is stuffed into the spout of the clay pot. The camel hair keeps the coffee grounds and ginger threads from pouring out with the coffee.

Not much coffee will be poured into me, however, because the young nomad woman has already filled me and the other cups more than half-way with sugar. She holds the clay pot of coffee high over the tray and begins to pour the dark liquid in a thin stream, like a black ribbon, into each of us until we are filled to the rim with the steamy beverage.

And now, it is time to serve the men in the tent. The young nomad woman lifts the tray with me and the other cups of coffee. She offers us to the men. Dark leathery fingers reach toward us as the old men lean forward and take us by our rims. The boiling liquid will not burn them. Many years of holding hot coffee have calloused their skin.

The conversation wanes and is replaced with the satisfied sounds of approval, as the men sip the coffee and feel the strong flavor of ginger burning their throats when they swallow.

Mmmm...mmmm...mmmm

“Te’uum buun!” They say to the young nomad woman. She smiles shyly and looks down at the ground.

This is her life. She knows nothing of the outside world. She is simple. She builds her tent, she milks her camel, and she makes coffee five times a day for her husband and his friends. She has her lot and she does it well. Her cup is full.

I am like her. I am nothing unusual really, just a little cup in the hands of a young nomad woman. She has six other cups just like me. I don’t even have a handle and I’m not very big at all. But five times a day I make my owner’s guests happy. Five times a day my cup is full.

Lime Tree!

We have been traveling for a week. Imagine my delight when I looked in our back yard and discovered our little lime tree had a surprise for me!

It may be Fall back home in Texas, but here on the island it looks as if Spring is in full bloom!  

And all those pretty blooms and baby limes are found on this funny, scraggly little "Charlie Brown" lime tree!