A Watery Adventure (part 2)...

This is about the people. Lovely, dark-eyed, people with skin the color of perfectly creamed coffee. People from two very different places, who live alongside each other, melding customs and ways. People who work together to make life happen.

The Kami are from Cambodia originally. They have long lived on and around the lake, drawing from its many resources for sustenance. The other group is the Vietnamese. They came here as refugees, but they've stayed and built a life here. Though the communities have remained separate, intermarriage occurs, along with the borrowing of various customs and skills.

And faith. Faith seems to be similar in both groups. Buddhism, ancestor worship, and a strong fear of spirits and ghosts. Everything is seen to have spiritual origins, and those who've preceded us in death are seen to greatly impact our lives. Altars are erected in even the smallest homes to appease these spirits. Life operates on a basis of fear. Consequences. Superstition.

But there is Hope, and it is being offered. Offered by those from the outside, working alongside these people, and offered from the inside, from those who've seen Hope and Life and Light.

This little fella was about 8-9 months old. His momma didn't want him, and twice, she attempted to abort him. After the second attempt failed, she accepted her pregnancy and is now raising her little boy. He is jolly, though slightly delayed in physical development.

And this couple. A school teacher and his wife. Our hosts for out time on the lake. This beautiful couple are parents to two, and gracious in hospitality. Both are hard workers. Their love of God shows on their faces, and through every action. It was an honor to get to know them.

Every morning around 7 am, between 30-70 kids show up for school. They sit on the floor with open notebooks, all ages and grades together. They teach each other and are taught by Anhai, the school-teacher above. The chatter and energy of these kids was what we woke up to every morning.

And smiling faces greeted us with hugs and carefully drawn pictures. They taught us to count and identify colors in their mother-tongue. They showed us their mad boating skills. And they invited us to join them in the myriad of games that seem to be universal to school-aged children around the world.

I so enjoyed these beautiful people. Hospitable, friendly, and so sweet. The types of things that communicate beyond language barriers. Together we enjoyed rice and fish for every meal, and together we squatted at the barge's edge and washed dishes right into the lake.

I spent quite a bit of time with these women, as we worked together on bringing maternal healthcare to the village. We learned from each other.... customs, ways of thinking, and care techniques. We combined our knowledge and offered it in a place where medical care is sketchy at best. We talked about strategies and opportunities. We used the opportunities that arose, and offered care where we were asked to.

What a beautiful opportunity we had, crossing cultures, languages, and boarders. We saw opportunity and need. Together, these ladies and I reached out to their own in the ways we were able. Three languages, three cultures, three groups of people came together for 9 days, and we worked together to offer hope.

A Watery Adventure...

I think I'll talk about my time in Cambodia in three separate posts. This first one will focus on the place. Tonle Sap lake. This is a fresh-water lake in Cambodia, ranging from 3,000 sq. Km in the dry season, to 10,000 sq. km in the rainy season. It isn't so deep, 1-3 meters in the dry season, and up to 14 meters in the rainy season. While I was there, We actually could've walked across the entire lake.... It was only about 4 feet deep!
 

The population on this lake is immense. When I say 'on' the lake, I am not exaggerating. Sure, there are houses on stilts NEAR the lake, but there are also quite a number of villages floating out on the lake. The estimated population on the lake is around 80,000 people.

They live on boats and barges and rafts.... basically anything that floats.And even the littlest ones can paddle anything. One little boy paddled to school on a cooler lid every day.  Stores float too. And the fiberglass boat shop, and the engine repair shop. Everything is adapted to this watery lifestyle.

The lake is everything. The source of food and water and the receptacle of waste and garbage. It is work and recreation, danger and safety. That is where swimming, showering, laundry, and dishes all take place.

The main source of food is fish. Always accompanied by rice. Sometimes, the vegetable boat passes by that day, and there is some variety. Other times a turtle, snake, or bird varies the diet.



When a storm blows in, you hope and pray that the anchor will hold, lest you blow away. You bring out your pots and pans and bang loudly, hoping to scare the winds away. Every morning your view is different as your house and the houses of those around you have rotated.

And the sunsets are always beautiful, reflecting off the lake for miles. Sometimes there is peaceful serenity, but usually the sounds of motor boats, music, and neighbors are prevalent, filling the air with life. Because everyone lives closely, they share the clatter and music of daily life.

On Feelings....

I feel distant.
Maybe that's because I live on the opposite side of the world from people and places I've considered home. But mostly it's not the physical things that make me feel distant. Its emotional things. Things like the fact that my sister is engaged to marry a man I barely know. That my nephew is almost 1, and I've only met him once. Maybe its things like engagement announcements, weddings, funerals, and big moments that I sometimes don't even know about for days or weeks after the fact.

I feel loved.
Some of you have really made an effort to stay in touch. I do understand the effort that requires. Thank you. Letters and cards are precious here, and packages an even more rare treat! I feel loved when God has chosen to provide my needs through you. I feel loved by random emails, and an occasional chat on Facebook. And I am told by family members that people ask about me and pray for me, and my heart is warmed.


I feel overwhelmed.
As I study and read, as I learn everything I can about babies and mothers and midwifery, I feel overwhelmed by the miracle that is birth. I feel amazed that it ever goes well, and that so many perfect babies are born when so much can go wrong. I feel overwhelmed by assignments and work and lack of sleep.I feel overwhelmed by the possibilities that open to me, and the decisions I have to make. And I feel overwhelmed in trying to figure out the practical and financial aspects of it all.

The roasted wedding pig

 I feel hopeful.
As I entertain the idea of various possibilities for my future, I feel hopeful and excited. Yes, there is some mixture in those feelings, but my overwhelming sentiment is hopefulness. I am hopeful that these next few months will be filled with adventure, excitement, and meaningful connections with people I love here. My hope is that I can wrap up my time here well.

I feel privileged.
I've become the Godmother of this little sweetie, and the midwife to about 70 others, and I feel the immense joy of that. I feel honored that God has given me this amazing opportunity to serve in this amazing culture and ministry. The people I've met here are quality individuals, many of whom really love the Lord. This is a huge joy to my heart. And I frequently participate in miracles and watch God's creative power at work.

I feel curious.
I know it may seem early to think about next steps, but the truth is, in just 3 short months, I'll be needing to take those steps. I feel curious as to what God is preparing next for me. I wonder what connections He has for me, and what country will be my next stop. I wonder why He has graciously chosen me, and what the next few years may look like. Reverse culture shock intrigues (and frightens) me a bit. I'm curious how God may choose to work in and through me as I continue to submit myself to His all-knowing plan.
Enough feelings for you? Let me know what you guys are feeling..... It'll make me feel less distant.

More Sisters....

So after the trip to the waterfalls, we made a motorized tour of the island. We stopped at the home of our drivers where we were served fresh coconut. So fresh was this coconut that a long, bamboo spire with a knife on the end was employed to relieve the tree of said fruit before our very eyes.












 Machetes were wielded to facilitate the disembowelment of the coconut, and they were laid on the table before us.













 Early next morning, we took a small fishing boat out for a cruise. We snorkeled, saw giant clams over 1.3 meters in length, and each got a nice bit of sunburn to show for it.

 On the way back to our resort the heavens showed their hospitality by opening the windows, as it were, and drenching us.(hence my sisters' malongs).








 Following our days in paradise, I introduced my sisters to the peach-mango pie at Jollibee....













 Roadside fruit stands......










And the open market which was described as being simultaneously "The most fascinating and disgusting thing I have ever seen".









I have spared the pictures of freshly butchered meat, the smell of dried fish, and the sounds of pigs being led to slaughter.

 I introduced them to my Indian friend, Tareen.











These identical twins showed up at the primary health care outreach we did.












While I listened to hearts and lungs and checked rashes and fevers, my sisters made their own set of friends.















They made their way into a lot of little hearts.











And left with a large number of admirers.

 

 We tasted the goodness of Davao's best Frappe,















And learned the joys of public transportation. To top it all off, we went to the nearby mall for the fountain show. These fountains are choreographed to music, as are the colorful lights that accompany their dance. What a finale to a whirlwind, wonderful visit from two of the most precious friends a girl could ever have.

About the Sister(s)...

So I told you my sister was coming to see me. Imagine, then, my surprise when not one but TWO sisters showed up at the airport! The dear, weary travelers caught me completely off-guard and I must admit, I shed a few tears in my happiness.






A newly-acquired friend from the airport took us out for breakfast. Nothing says 'Welcome to Davao' quite like porriage with pig intestines for breakfast!







The next few days were filled with babies as my sisters shadowed me on birth-room shifts. I have never known anything quite like the first cry of a newborn baby to steal hearts and bring tears to one's eyes. I believe it was love at first sight.










The shifts were full and busy, which made getting over jet-lag a bit of a challenge. Post-partum hemorrhage and jet lag apparently don't mix well.







They were naturals at newborn care, and got to hold not a few infants when other hands were too full.








After our busy days of work, we were off to paradise. We spent four nights in this  little hut, the ocean creeping right up to the wall in front of us each night.














Oh, good evening, Mt. Apo. The harbor lights winked at us from across the bay.










Every morning, delicious fresh fruits and coffee as we watched the fishermen row home after a long night's work.








Sister moments.......











And starfish......












Sunsets......















and some of the most beautiful and serene moments you could possibly imagine.









Each day we hopped motorcycles and toured the little villages nearby. We enjoyed local foods, scenery, and the admiring gazes of hundreds of people.

I introduced them to this little piece of heaven known as Haggimit Falls. It is a series of natural waterfalls with pools, natural slides, and natural diving boards.








There, too, we had many gazing admirers. Peachy was far bolder than I, and took many jumps off of these perilous heights. I managed one, only after many false alarms, and much effort to turn off the rational part of my brain that didn't think striking my head on a rock was a good way to die.












Here's an example of Peachy's unparalleled bravery. There is more to this story, but for now, I will desist from my attack of photos. To be continued.....

Now what?

I go to seek a great perhaps....

I really like that quote, because it is just what every missionary does. It is not the perhaps of God's sending, or of his ability to remain faithful to those He's sent, but the perhaps of just what, exactly, may come of that single act of obedience. GO.

Perhaps it will result in the saving of many souls, and perhaps it will primarily contribute to the saving of our own. Instead of the images of revivals and church planting that frequented my daydreams, I find myself pitifully pleading God for His continued grace and sustenance. I find a new relevance in the verse that talks about 'working out my salvation with fear and trembling". And I increasingly realize the degree of grace necessary to not only sustain mission workers, but also to produce fruit through them.


Perhaps it will be a clearly marked path, and perhaps we will feel as though we are following God with a blindfold on. "Marco"... "Polo"... "Marco" .... "Polo".... Wait, how did God end up way over there? I was so sure I was following Him when I headed in this direction. But perhaps, if God had made that path clear to me from the beginning, I would've dismissed it. Maybe I would have shrunk away in fear, or maybe I would confidently have stepped out, unaware of my human frailty. So I see His plan is perfect, even when our resultant paths look a little jagged.

These are not my feet

And then there are the times. The times we just have no clue which way our path will next veer. When we feel a bit lost, and excited, and afraid, and eager. It is hide and seek, but we've yet to find. Those crazy moments when we realize that all we have been working toward for weeks, months, or years has been accomplished and we do not yet know our next goal. That panic-y feel when we must recreate our normal.

I find myself in this position over the next few months. I'm seeking a great perhaps. As this season of my life begins to wind down, my heart is dreaming, my feelers are out, and I ask myself... "Now what?" It may be a bit premature, but my heart is seeking a new dream to chase. 5 months from now I will get onto an airplane back to the US, back to a great perhaps. I'm I am asking for the nations, but I'm not sure which one yet.

I am praying for direction. These feet want to go, these hands want to serve, and this heart wants to love. Perhaps God will act quickly in cultivating a new dream in my soul, or perhaps He will lead me into another period of waiting. Either way, I'm determined to be content. Now what? Now I am determined, by the grace of God, to live well no matter what the path before me may be.