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".