Peanut!

Pattie wrote today. She tries to keep us up to date on life in Lopit, you see.

In chronicling this Sunday morning’s adventures, she reported that Laudina came over a’blazing, asking to borrow her tweezers.

Apparently, little Thomaso got a peanut stuck up his nose.

This has provided Kim and I with fodder for spontaneous laughter all day long.

Thank you, Lopitland.

Also, thank you Thomaso. And the peanut.

In other news, I’m so bored, I’m contemplating putting up a profile for Kimberly on SovereignGraceSingles.com. (Google is so handy.) Honestly, how fun would that be?

“Single white female. Enjoys long walks on the beach and/or poopy paths in Southern Sudan.”

Kim has threatened to tweeze all my eyebrows out if I did that, so the project is on hold while I contemplate the consequences.

Go Go Gadget...

Pattie wrote me today about the team's idea for my rehab--a mechanical arm. It made me smile, so I thought I'd share it with you.

"So about that mechanical arm. Probably won't be nearly as funny in email as it was in person, but Jen and Craig were joking about how you are having to choose which kind of special arm to have installed.

"You could go for the "go go gadget arm" that could serve many purposes. We thought maybe you could get one that is rechargeable and then I could borrow it to smack the misbehaving children (quite loud recently in the mornings with all the buleta [fruit from our tree]) through my window screen--or the fighting dogs :0)

[Pattie would never really smack children; just so there isn't a misunderstanding. It's safe to say most of our team members would never hit a child...]

"Jen is actually voting for the 'spider man arm' which could be used to cocoon the misbehavers. Besides, think how easy it would be to get from [our village] to [Steve's village] with a spider man arm. If I am not mistaken, this was also Craiger's preference :0)

"Or jen says you could get one like 'the thing' from Adam's family that will just walk around by itself and do whatever you want. I mean think of the possibilities here.

"We're all willing to donate for such a cause, as long as you will let us borrow it from time to time!!!! Just trying to prepare you for what you're coming home to HE HE!!!"

:)

I really Schruted it.

In my quiet time Tuesday morning, I asked the Lord to humble me.

I wasn't expecting such an immediate and heavy helping of humility.

My dear mother posted up here a bit already, and news has gotten around inexplicably fast through church channels, but just so we're on the same page--I had a bit of a hectic bike accident Tuesday morning.

The funny thing is, I was so excited about writing everyone and saying how great it was to be back on the dry season schedule--waking up early, enjoying uninterrupted time in the Word before catching the sunrise on my bike, then working in the village centers with the kids for preschool. The perfect beginning to my Lopit day!

But Tuesday I hit a patch of sand, slid into a hole and went head-over-handlebars about a mile from Steve’s compound. I’m so thankful I wasn’t 10K’s out. I’d just passed one of the pastors, who saw me biff it and came running. I came up screaming for Kim—who I knew wasn’t too far behind me, running—but begged Pastor S. to unclip my feet from my toeclips and get the bike off me. He did that and more—yanked me up under the armpits, then took my hurt arm, pulling, pushing and wrenching it around until I finally convinced him to stop. His heart was good, I’m sure. But probably not the ideal response, medically speaking. Yikes.

Kim wanted to run back and get a car, but I didn’t think it was that bad, so we walked. I think three quarters of a mile later, I realized that was a really stupid idea. Steve caught sight of me from his breakfast table and I must’ve looked something terrible, because before I knew it I had ice on my shoulder, Iris at my side and a washcloth on my face.

Would you believe that within two hours of biting it, I was at the airstrip, hitching a ride on a mosquito plane? Pretty amazing stuff. Thank you AIMAIR. I spent most of the first flight (to Loki) bawling and feeling sorry for myself. I spent most of the second flight (a long one, in the tiny plane, to Nairobi) trying not to barf, feeling terrible for Kim (who came with and hates flying) and praying it’d all just be over. Our pilot, Mike, was an all-star; he flew the plane through choppy air and helped take care of me. Thank you, Mike.

Chanda (marked on my medical forms as my “guardian angel”) met us at the airport and, lickidy split, we were at Nairobi hospital.

I couldn’t get surgery that first day—something about respiratory concerns because I’d just flown—but the next afternoon I went in. My collarbone was dislocated from my shoulder blade by about an inch and a half, and all the ligaments torn clear away. So the orthopedic surgeon took a wire and pulled everything back together.

Three days in the hospital was more than enough for me, so I’m happy to be at Mayfield now. But I’m constantly being humbled because I can’t do much for myself and it hurts really bad. I’m here ‘til at least Wednesday, when I have an appointment to get the stitches out. Then, I dunno. Hopefully back to So Sud as soon as possible. Sling for four weeks; recovery will take about six, they say. It will never be 100% again, so my major league pitching dreams have been shattered. Whimper.

Honestly, this couldn’t have come at a worse time—I was so happy to be back home, yet discouraged recently in other ways. (I’ll write on that when I can.) I talk rather flippantly about it now, but—like my mom says—what else can I do? In reality, being out AGAIN for medical stuff makes me wonder if I should even be in the field at all, certainly because it came right after a rough night where it just seemed like nothing we do in Lopit actually gets to the people. (Again, later.)

So, as you pray for healing, pray for encouragement or guidance. And pray for finances; Chanda took care of all that so far, so I don’t know what I’m looking at, but it is still scary, especially since I don’t know how much travel costs insurance will cover, particularly for Kimmie. Just one more thing I’m trying to put off thinking about. Meh.

I’ll write more when I can; typing with one hand is really tiring. Thanks for all the emails everyone; I’m sorry I probably won’t write you back just yet—part of the reason of this lengthy post, so I only have to type it once. I’d better stop now—I seem to be getting more discouraged as I go.

Thanks again, and keep loving Jesus.

F is for Francis...

some wonderful people from home sent a few sets of letter and number stamps to use in the preschool. i was really excited to get them, so we tried them out on francis and jessica.


francis is a very serious student!

i'm certain he doesn't get the idea that these are letters, which represent sounds and make words. but it was enough to know we make these shapes a lot and it had something to do with his name, i think. so he carefully traced the letters, then proudly showed us his work.

even better, he asked if he could hang his little sheet full of F's on our cabinet door, where we sometimes put cartoons or quotes. i just smiled and grabbed the tack. he doesn't know a thing about the american tendency yo display kids' artwork on the fridge. :)

Hey, Good Lookin'

For whatever reason, Jessica, Thomaso and Ellen had free reign of my room the other day. The mirror was a huge distraction. I don't quite get what Thomaso is doing here, with the mirror pressed to his face, but I snapped a picture just before he caught on to me...

Moment of Vanity...

The way I figure it, I should use the free net and immobility to my advantage and post some pictures for ya'll...

Jessica is so beautiful, it blows me away. Here, she wanted to join Kim in getting ready for church...

Kissy face. :)

Happy Thanksgiving!

Jen held off on her big Thanksgiving meal until KP and I got back. Very, very sweet.

Another wonderful night off food and fellowship.

Joshua can be hilarious.

Miss Pattie and baby Joy.

Quite a crowd. Even Steve & Co. came--a small miracle.

Iris and the kiddos.

The lovely Mama Dure.

Boston cream pie. And Ohesa.

On the mend ...

Andi asked me to post this to let you know that she is out of surgery and doing fine, although in quite a bit of pain at the moment. Her guardian angel, Kimmie, was seeking more meds for her from the nurse when I called and had already gone out and gotten some "good" food. Kimmie says she expects Andi will be in the hospital for one, maybe two more days. And although Andi is ready to go home now, Kimmie assures me she'll make sure Andi does what the doctors say.

Thanks for all your prayers and concern.

Andi's mom

Editted to add:
Sorry to be so cryptic with the first post, I wasn't thinking clearly! Andi had an accident on her bike Tuesday morning and dislocated her collarbone. AIM flew her and Kimmie out to Nairobi, where the doctors determined that they needed to wire her shoulder and collarbone back together. She had surgery Wednesday. I will post more after I talk to her tomorrow (Thursday).

Lopitland meets Hollywood…

Hey gang, I finally got that video finished and kicked back Stateside. Hooray!
My dear friend Rev. Mark, who represents (and comprises) the USA branch of this adventure, has so graciously offered his services to copy and send out this little production.
(You folks at OUC or Faith—when you see him, hug him. He does a lot for me!)
Anyway, if you’d like a closer look at our work out here, my team and what TIMO is all about, drop Mark a line and he’ll send you a copy.
Here’s his email: markalexander17@yahoo.com
Make sure you let him know your name and address. And, if you’re from Faith or OUC, make a note of that; he’ll save on postage and give them to the church.
I hope you’re blessed by the video, and can better know how to pray for us from it!
Cheers!

What is the What.

I picked up a novel about the Lost Boys while I was in Nairobi—“What is the What.”
I was having a hard enough time reading about the horrible things this character Achak saw and experienced as he first walked to Ethiopia, then back across the country to Kenya, being attacked by animals (both of the lion and Arab horseman variety), bombed by the North, used by the SPLA and worn down nearly to death or insanity. But during one of my breaks—I made a habit or putting down the book and resting now and then, lest I be overwhelmed by it—I happened upon the title page, where I saw under the title, “An Autobiography by Achak Valentino…”
I can’t begin to tell you how this affected me. There’s quite a difference between a NOVEL—like the front cover said—and an AUTOBIOGRAPHY. Before, the character was just that—a character. He was fictional, likely many boys’ experiences distilled down into one storyline.
But then—“autobiography.” Suddenly, Achak wasn’t just the story of many faceless boys. The suffering had a face. It could be pinned down, put in a specific time and place, given a name. This was actually someone’s life.
It made me sick, to read about this boy’s life and to know it was very real, and being forced to confront the fact that his life was the same life thousands of other boys lived, and are still living today.
Imagine, not knowing anything but war. Or being born and raised in Kakuma, a refugee camp in the desert of Kenya.
Hmmph.
Anyway, it’s a good book. If you’re into that kind of thing, you should give it a read.

New guy on the block…

We came back to find out we’ve had one added to our ranks.
This fella Toby came out to help for a few weeks, but apparently has decided to stay indefinitely. Or something.
Anyway, I guess it’s cool because he’ll be helping do some of the practical work. And there’s a place for him to stay in the boys’ house now, since Daniel is gone. I guess all the village folk mistake him for Daniel, and he acts/looks very much like him. So maybe it’s like we didn’t lose anyone at all, after all.
Or maybe not. The guy he came with told me he was “The New Daniel.” Which I guess might be funny to him, but sort of made me want to punch him. (See previous bit about how losing a team member is like losing your nose or some other essential body part.)
It’s a little painful, knowing that this guy gets to live among the LoPeeps and the TIMO team, but doesn’t have the responsibilities of TIMO and just does practical stuff, because that’s exactly what Daniel wanted to do, but was told he couldn’t do here.
So, perhaps a bit bittersweet, but good nonetheless.
And, who knows, maybe, come Christmas, he’ll fill in as the Weihnachtsmann, too.
Karibu, Toby!

Home!

A week’s lesson in patience, two uneventful flights and slightly annoying (but very short) stop in Loki* later, we’re finally back home in Lopitland.
(*I’m sorry, I really hate Loki. To me, Loki is where malaria is born. And where dust lives. And the breeding ground of a whole host of other evils. I, um, might not be giving Loki a fair shake. Forgive me.)
Flying over so much nothingness makes you realize how we really are in the middle of nowhere. Then our pilot buzzed around the horseshoe of our mountain range; Kim and I had our noses pressed to the windows. It’s so cool, to see our little villages from the air—outlines of the compounds, the haphazard lines of the peanut fields, the funny cone roofs.
We carried entirely too much up the mountain, but were rewarded when we got home—Pattie had made us special lemonade and put seats under our tired bodies. She even had the whole inside of the house poohed while we were gone! In a word—amazing.
Our neighbors were excited to have us home, too. It just made my heart happy to shake their hands and smile with them. I really enjoy being home.
In a related story, it’s officially Christmas season in Lopit. I put up the lights just as soon as my tired body would let me. Then, unfortunately, I proceeded to fall backward off the stool I was hanging them from. My first thought was, “Oh, please, Lord, tell me I didn’t break anything. Steve would absolutely kill me. And I’m in no mood to wait for another flight.”
But, no worries. I’m OK. :)

Un-stuck.

Tomorrow, we get un-stuck. That is, we get to leave Nairobi. Praise the Lord.

I took down a lot of my Nairobi posts. I figured anyone short of a stalker wouldn't want to read all about our crazy city adventures and misadventures.

My apologies to all the stalkers out there.

Update from Pattie...

I got an email from Pattie the other day.

Seeing that thing in my inbox did terrible things to my stomach. I was so afraid she was going to tell me about one of our friends dying or something.

Praise God, she didn’t.

Let me glean from her two emails here, to give you an update.

To go back, it looks like the monyemiji came down and begged Steve to get the meds sent out a bit ago, because so many kids were dying. That’s a pretty big move. Good on you, monyemiji folk.

Franco was sick, but Pattie started treating him with the new medicine and he looks like he’ll be fine. Paula even carried him most of the way down to church Sunday, Pattie says, because they asked him and he said he wanted to go. She said it’s been so wonderful to see how Abuba is taking to heart our lessons on the importance and method of getting a fever down. I think maybe when our neighbors saw Pattie and Kim soaking me down with our precious little water when I was sick, that did something in their minds. Pattie says Abuba even helped her explain to other people why it was important and how to do it. I think Pattie was really encouraged.

One of our friend’s kids, Monday, was really sick. (There’s a picture of Monday somewhere on here.) I’m not even sure how to explain this story, because even Pattie was having a hard time telling it. Here’s the thing: Sometimes, the Lopit declare someone dead before they’re actually dead. Which leads to confusion, when people are… resurrected. They, umm… come back to life. Anyway, this seems to be the case with Monday. Pattie woke up to the women wailing in mourning and telling her Monday died, but then Monday was really just sick. And now she’s in the clinic, and it sounds like she’s getting better.

Pattie said she was “mad enough to spit nails” (I think that means really mad) when she heard from our neighbor that, though they just got a whole slew of meds on that plane HK sent up, the clinic had sent her away, saying there was no more medicine. Not yet sure if that’s really the case—people have a habit of saying that when they’re lying about having been to the clinic. We’ll see what good ol’ Pattie says in her next email.

I miss Pattie. :(

Boxing for Breakfast

The other day I enjoyed a really great breakfast with Adele, a missionary/ photojournalist I met last time we were in Kenya.

She chatted with us a bit under the glow of our Christmas lights on “Christmas Day” and invited me out to this beautiful place in Karen for a Boxing Day treat.

It was nice, just sitting there, enjoying coffee and good food, and each other. We talked about a lot of things—the supporter stress, how we’ve been challenged in our walks, war (did you know there is a war on in Congo right now? I didn’t), being a single missionary in Africa, etc.

I remember sitting back for a moment and thinking, “Oh, wow, I’m really relaxing.” That was a good moment.

It was nice to understand and be understood. That is so rare here.

And it was nice to be challenged, as well—just hearing about how she is studying the Word, how she’s trusting God to teach her “new” things from “old” texts, how she’s being deliberate about living what she’s learning… that spurred me on.

Anyway, our morning out at this lovely café stands out in my mind—sort of a calm in the middle of the Nairobi storm, a real blessing.

Yuletide craziness...

So, today was our Christmas. We did our best to wish as many people as possible a merry Christmas. Some--yea even most--were confused by our holiday cheer and greetings, but after a lot of explaining, some caught on and humored us.



We got all dressed up and went out to eat for our "Christmas" dinner. It was excellent fun.

Merry Christmas, everyone!

Let's see if this works...

In a moment of decent internet connection, I'm trying to see if posting my prayer letter on here works. Let me know if you can click on it and it's big enough to read!

Also, if you're not on my mailing list but want to be, just email me: aclinard@gmail.com.

Golly, having internet is really great...

Santa!

How great is it that on our Christmas Eve, we see Santa at Nakumatt? Apparently, even Father Christmas does his shopping last minute. (I feel he and my Dad could bond over that fact.)

Hooked…

Grasshopper and Monkey, hamming it up.




Also not unusual.

Monkey See, Monkey Do…

Here’s my sweet Monkey. (Also known as Ellen.) I love this little girl very, very much. She’s so dirty in this picture, which is usual. I think this day I found her laying out in the dirt, making what must be something close to snow angels, just minus the snow.