Day 5 Critters: Chameleon

Okay, so he was not found in our backyard, but a friend found him and thought our kids would have fun with him. Supposedly if you keep him on cut flowers or greens on your table he won't go anywhere. I had some lilies brought in for a treat, so onto the lilies he went!

Hello little guy!!

I absolutely love how little chameleon feet can fold in half.
Great for grabbing!
This poor guy nicknamed 'Color' by our boys was getting
lily pollen chameleon-prints all over...

As you can see he didn't camouflage himself in lily colors.
I guess some things are just too much to ask.
After a few days he was looking rather peaked.
We decided he needed more bugs then we could offer and moved him outside to the guava tree. Haven't seen him in quite some time...

Day 4 Critters: Fuzzy Caterpillars (Chenilles)

Well, you've made it through the first half of my week about bugs -
surely it's not that bad! =)

These fuzzy friends are deceptively cute, but cuddling up with them can be mildly poisonous. There are many varieties, and we don't see them in the city often. This group was out in the forest sunbathing on a fence post. At least that's what I would want to do...

A similar pokey brown variety were fried up for lunch...


Gotta go!
Apparently when I was driving James back from the doctor's today we ran over a snake and Joel quickly learned the Swahili word: nyoki. Maybe I can get a picture!

Day 3 Critters: Stick Bug

I always wanted to see one,
so it was exciting times when the boys found this guy outside by the car!



They said he walked slowly like a praying mantis
and when he flew he had beautiful blue and yellow wings like a butterfly.
Never would have guessed!
He hides them pretty well, don't you think?
Gorgeous on the inside, with a plain rough exterior.
There are people like that.



Of course they thought it would be fun to give him a tour of our house,
much to their little sister's chagrin...
His shadow makes him look even bigger!

What a creative God we serve!

Sticks that walk?

I could never have come up with that.

Day 2 Critters: Snails

After alluding to snails and puppy-dog tails yesterday, I thought this one fitting for today. My Joelie loves his snails. In fact, one day after a heavy rain, he grabbed an empty honey jar and filled it to the brim with little snails and moved them right into his room.

They were in his windowsill and climbing up the screens
before I was even aware of his little plan.

I finally convinced him to take pictures and moved them back outside
where they are happily eating through
my precious roses
to this day.
Hm...

Day 1 Critters: Froggy

Okay, every time Africa comes up inevitably someone asks me the critters-question:
What are the bugs like?
Aren't there spiders there?
How about the bugs?
How big are they anyway?
Are there LOTS of bugs?

Regardless of what I say in response, they almost always reply:
Oh! I could never live there!
Wow, I don't know how you do it.
Eww, gross!

I know it will not comfort any of you, but I will say anyway that I am a pretty dedicated arachnophobic (the movie trailers from that movie-which-shall-remain-nameless are with me to this day). AND I have seen more spiders at my parents house in the US than here in Central Africa (no offense Mom and Dad, but there really was a couple years of true infestation). If I can live here, anyone could. Seriously, the cockroaches here are nothing to those in Texas from what I hear. Deep in the forest the biggest spider we ever saw was about hand-size anyway (and that's not where we're living btw).

So hopefully you are past being grossed out and able to enjoy some of the creatures we've discovered in this past year. I will endeavor to post a picture of a new 'critter' for one week. Should be more fun than gross. But I have two boys... what was that about snails and puppy dog tails? What can I say?

So often Joel (aka Master Tracker) has caught some living thing or other and wants to keep it. Seriously, this happens about once a week. The kid knows no fear. Often it was these cute little frogs:

See?

Cute.

Little.

Froggy.

Then last month we found HIM:

Yes, in our backyard.

No, it's not pregnant.

It really is that big.

The video of the boys chasing it around the back porch to the screams of their sister will have to wait for an hour of high bandwidth.

Critter number One: Bullfrog.

Reading about Africa

There are lots of good books many of you have probably already read about this beloved continent, Out of Africa being one of them... (NO, the movie does not count!)

{Side Note: The first place Kent and I lived in Africa in 1999 was in Karen, about 1 mile from the historic home of Karen Blixen, incognito author of that book! Gorgeous place to fall in love with Africa, even if the encroaching capital city had changed the neighborhood a lot...}

Though you may not see them from your Starbucks table at the bookstore or on any billboards, there are two books on Africa definitely worth reading. Okay, I am a bit biased... They are written by two colleagues of mine and much of what they write gives insight into how our lives work day to day.

BOOK 1: (you know, Thing 1 and Thing 2? Maybe I read too much Dr. Seuss...)

Through the Outhouse Floor: and other real adventures of missionary life by Barbara Thomas

Barbara and her husband precede us by a decade or two, so we have never met in person, but their stories give lots of humor and insight to the realities of working here. Of course our working strategies and details have changed a bit since then, but due to the history of this place there are things she was able to buy back then that we can no longer find here, like brown sugar. I have already read through it twice and still enjoy it. If you're looking for a novel, this isn't it, but it will give you a funny and clear picture of how things work here. She places the emphasis on "REAL" and I can vouch to you that it is just that!



BOOK 2:

Grandma's Letters from Africa by Linda Thomas

(Yes, the two women are married to cousins.)

Linda is a dear friend of mine. When we first came to Africa 10 years ago she and her husband were working in the school administration where I was a volunteer teacher for missionary kids. We had great fun that year! One time I was trying to make an international phone call to interview for a teaching job back home the following year and Linda was sharing her office for this purpose. (All went well btw - call made, clear connection, questions answered and job taken...) As I turned to leave her office she was locking up behind me and we were chatting when my eyes caught something posted on the wall next to her desk. It looked like a cute stick drawing done by a young child. Slowly it dawned on me that I was not reading the child's scrawl of a beloved student at the school... It said something like, "We miss you Nana." With tears in my eyes I turned to Linda, "I thought it was excruciating to leave my friends and parents behind and come to Africa, but you left your grandchildren!" I can't imagine how hard that must have been, but she did it for the Lord she loves. She did it with grace. And had fun too! Check out sweet Linda's blog here: Quaint I Ain't.

Why my roses make me smile

About one year ago, as we were moving into this fixer-upper with a great yard in a great location, Kent spotted a tiny plant hidden between the dilapitated outhouse and back wall we share with the mosque. Familiar little leaves, like those of a ROSE. Surely roses are not indigenous plants and were probably carefully brought here some decades ago by previous foreigners with a taste for home gardens. Here there are spindly poinsettia trees, and wild hibiscus, lemongrass, bougainvillea and palms and vines galore, but a rose? I was doubtful. With the aid of our handy sack full of bat guano from the attic remodel we transplanted this tiny thing (maybe 11" tall) to the area out our back door. My imaginary back patio, which will one day be more than dirt and rocks...

Flash forward to August 09 when after 2 months of remodeling and 1 month on the road I spend the entire month in bed with 2 bouts of malaria topped off with a dash of swine flu. Somewhere near the end of this month-in-bed, just as I was starting to feel better, I was blasting a Sara Groves song. As she sang, 'Hope has a way of turning it's face to you just when you least expect it... walk through a room, you look out a window and something there leaves you breathless...' And, I kid you not, God's timing is beautiful music, these exact words were playing as I walked down our dark hallway to the cramped kitchen and in a glance I will never forget, saw HOPE embodied. My little rose-ish imp had grown several inches and blossomed the most beautiful of pink blossoms. It WAS a rose after all! God provided us a house, even though it was a time-sink and disappointment in some ways, and just as He had worked healing in my body, I knew He would work healing in our house.

A reason to hope.

As our fall rains came, our little pink picture of hope continued to grow stronger and taller. By the time the Christmas heatwave hit it was over a meter tall (3 feet) with a series of blooms one after another. Sometime in January I noticed something new... a little sprout. (I'm sure you gardening experts have a more official name - excuse my ignorance. For many years now I have not had a garden to call my own, so this is all new to me.) A baby rose plant! Hope begets hope.

As the new growth grew to about a foot and developed roots of its own I prepped soil and cut it off from the mother plant to move it further away. (Someone with gardening expertise is probably going to read this and know better - please just leave it the comments - I'll take all the advice I can get.) The move was really rough on the baby rose and it died down to its second-to-last green leaf (the dog running over it everyday didn't help either, but a fence eventually did...). I started to get bold with pruning the mother plant.

I was taught, in the northern hemisphere, of course, that rose bushes are to be trimmed down to about 12-18" in February or so to allow for the new growth of spring. Well, we don't have seasons like that here (see previous post), so I was a bit lost. I have been trying something new cutting a stem down that far after its thorns turn color and its blossomed already 2-4 times. So far it's been getting me a bushier plant (which = more flowers!).

And after a few dormant weeks here and there, this rose of hope blooms. And every time I walk in or out of my kitchen I look out the back door to drink in the sight of it. Last month I had not one, not two, but SIX pink roses on that mother plant. And the baby? The baby is now almost two feet tall with its first pink rose and another bud. How far He has brought us all this past year!

That first little rose plant must have been put there years ago awaiting my discovery, that in nurturing I would also be nurtured and would find HOPE. Hope I can look at and touch.

Hope flourishing.

That's why my roses make me smile. They are a tangible picture to me of the unseen work God is doing to settle us here and I have HOPE He will use our lives for his Glory.

weather

I just love that in Emma Thomson's Sense & Sensibility little Margaret is taught to bring up the weather in the most awkward situations! It is always a safe subject. Well, after actually posting the words 'blood diamond', I am following up with a 'safe' post about weather. =)

Being raised in the Pacific NW, moderate temperatures and occasional rain are really normal to me. Living in the tropics has definitely adjusted my thermostat, but where we are it is quite comfortable (at 2,000ish ft above sea level) between 60 and 100 all year. Most days are around 80 degrees. We are just finishing our spring rains, which brings occasional thunderstorms and cool cloudy days before the dry heat of summer. A cool, rainy spring doesn't feel that strange to me.

Nor does a cool, rainy fall or a warm summer actually. It is the heat of winter that always gets me as totally bizarre. I just can't seem to curl up with hot cocoa and marshmallows before the Christmas tree listening to Bing Crosby when it's 90 degrees and sunny outside... After several years of this, I am finally starting to get used to making potato salad for New Years.

The advantage to this system is that we get flowers year-round!! (oh, and veggies too...)

treasures

Anna would like to teach herself to read. She found James' Bible open on the front porch and brought it to me, "Tell me some of Jesus' words." I showed her how Jesus' words were red and we flipped through the gospels looking for 'lots of red'. Matthew 6 eventually came into view with its veritable fount of red ink. Wow, Jesus said lots of words here!

She again asked me to read. (Apparently, I was taking too long scanning for something that would make sense to a 3-yr-old going on 13.) I started in on the Lord's prayer (verse 9 - 14) because her brothers have it memorized, she has heard it often in the evenings and could finish each phrase where I left off. Thinking this would exhaust her curiosity, I turned to shut the Word. She stopped me. "Read more!" I skipped to verse 19, "Do not store up for yourself treasures on earth, where moth and rust destroy, and where thieves break in and steal. But store up for yourselves treasures in heaven..."

She understands treasures. And she understands moth and rust destroying. We see it everyday very plainly. Stuff gets yucky here. This idea sated her, as she ran off to play (or change clothes again for the umpteenth time), I was left pondering. This week I've been stuck thinking about treasures. Our money. Our media. Our image. What do we treasure? How can you tell? I think we must be willing to sacrifice something for a treasure.

A few years back several friends said we needed to watch "Blood Diamond" because of the similarities with where we work and live. We knew it would be intense, and I felt I had to mentally prepare to watch it. Last week we did it. I survived with liberal use of the MUTE button and blocking out the violence while reading the subtitles below. I fully own my wimpiness when it comes to violent movies. Images stay with me forever, and I just don't need to witness 500 extra murders however fake they may look to some of you. If you haven't seen it and feel ready to, I will at least say this: it portrays accurate and realistic chaos.

Then Sunday we sang in French how 'God is more precious than silver and gold and diamonds.' As I watched Congolese people singing those words, the song took on new meaning for me. Here it is obvious when a cousin leaves his family to work in the mines, make a few dollars and spend it on worldly pleasures. They sacrifice their entire social network (which means so much more here) in search of worldly treasure. It is fleeting. Spent quickly. Temporary. In that movie, and probably still today in many mines people will sacrifice much, many give their lives in pursuit of gold and diamonds. For what? So some American 20-yr-old bride can get a deal on the perfect ring? We can't pretend we're not involved. What do we treasure?

All I'm saying is that I've got a lot to 'chew on' regarding treasure.
 
"for where your treasure is, there your heart will be also."