Would you wash in this??

This was coming out of my hot water pipes when I wanted to take a shower today...

?!?!

I know this might seem like a jump to you... but last week, Rusty*, who is an older brother who lives on nothing and gives everything he has to let others know who His redeemer is, was telling me about the love of the Father.

He told me several years ago, when he had nothing (my internal response, "really?! I thought you had nothing now... you had less then?!"), and really needed a phone, he went and stood in line and waited to get a phone number. (At least- that's what I understood happened from his story. Details may seem shady, and that would be very perceptive of you. We weren't speaking in English, and all this happened a regime ago) Anyway, Father taught him at that time that he only needed to rely on Father's love for him.

How humbling.

I have both a telephone, and a cell phone, and am house-sitting in a large enough apartment that I can help others by giving them a place to stay for extended periods of time without inconveniencing myself by moving myself out of my own room, have plenty to do at work (more than enough!), ... and I could go on.

Who am I to be above it all and not be thankful for pipes and water... and the fact that the water is going down the drain and NOT overflowing and flooding my kitchen (which happened recently)... and to not be thankful that I am loved. LOVED. Beyond a shadow of a doubt. Loved.

Rusty opened up 1 Jn 4 ... and basically gave us a sermon. Which I definitely needed....

He ended with...

¹⁶ And so we know and rely on the love God has for us.

Oh yeah, that reliance? ... the water situation cleared up by 2pm :D In time for me to get myself clean and off to the office. :)

Living with a three year old...

Sometimes... living a three year old is just too fun not to share.

Sometimes it's fun... like when you have "ribbit"- "ква!" verbal 'wars' with him yelling at the top of his lungs, because he loves frogs. Or... when he's watching "Cars" for the millionth time and he crows, "Makqveen!!!" when Lighting McQueen comes on screen.

Sometimes it hurts... like when he's throwing toy cars at you and thinking it's super fun... and you're just frustrated you can't make him understand in his language that it HURTS and he needs to stop!

Sometimes it's hilarious... like when his mom forgets that she's filling up the tub and walks off to do something in another part of the apartment... and you both come into the bathroom to find water and bubbles all over. And he's happily playing away (he doesn't have a bathtub at home- so it's a new nightly treat).

Sometimes it's frustrating... like when you can't find something you're looking for... but there are toys all over the living room floor that you don't have time to pick up right then.

Sometimes it is amazing.... like hearing "Kkris-chtina!!!!" as the first thing he says when he walks in the door. Every day! :)

He and his mom have been living with me for a few weeks because currently their apartment is getting some remodeling/redecorating work done... and from the pictures that the dad has shown me... their place is quite uninhabitable at the moment (let alone for a three year old). I'm so grateful for the opportunity. I'm getting lots of joy from living with this little man!

school days

So I'm back to teaching on a regular basis... and not just the weekly conversation club stuff that I was doing before.

At the English center where I work, I have a class that I like to call the "Hooligans." The best part of the name isn't so much that it describes these 12-14 yr old troublemakers so well, but that it is a cognate as well. :) So the joke works in both languages!

I also have "my other class," which for the first two weeks of class seemed to have a rotating class roster and an open invite to all prospective students. (Not the easiest teaching environment). We have finally fallen into a regular three students now, and I think that they are doing quite well.

The big news however... isn't my classes at the center.

I am also now teaching at a nearby elementary school!

It's so exciting.

These 26 (or so) ten-year olds are adorable. Many of the boys come dressed in suits (When was the last time you saw a ten year old boy in a suit jacket?! It's adorable, even if he still has Denis the Menace tendencies to mischief), and the girls are all carefully decked out in dresses, tights, and polished Mary Janes.

Thank goodness we are working on, "What's your name?" in addition to "How old are you?" because learning some of these names is killing me! I'm generally good at learning people's names... but when some of them are composed of multiple syllables that I have trouble pronouncing... the cultural divide between me and these kids is more apparent than the differences in our wardrobes! (Honestly, one of the girls names sounds like "La-di-dah" to me... I just have to remember that her name's actually Faridah when I call on her! And that's an EASY name :D )

Speaking of cultural divides, here's another story. The Monday before my first day of official class with these kids, I went to their classroom to introduce myself. I was with Rose*, who not only is a friend of mine, but she is also a mother to one of the boys that I teach in this class. Unfortunately for her, the day that we visited, her son was accused of stealing.

After I introduced myself to all the children, the teacher dismissed most of the class to go eat lunch, while she stayed behind to talk with my friend and her son. I wasn't quite sure what was going on, so while the teacher's lecture started to increase in volume and speed, I tried to make myself invisible against a far wall. Pretty soon, the teacher sounded very angry and I was beginning to gather that my friend's son was being accused of something, and that the teacher was promising physical punishment to make him tell the truth. At first, I didn't believe what my ears were translating... until the teacher demonstrated breaking her own splayed fingers with her other hand clenched into a fist.

Yep. She threatened her own student with corporal punishment. Quite graphically.

I was rather shocked.

Then one of the other students was drawn in, and she began berating both young men.

At this break, my friend turned to me and was like, "You need to go and teach at the center, don't you?"

And yes I did, but not for a few more hours. But I took the opening to leave then mostly because I just needed to get out of the awkwardness of witnessing this situation! I don't do well with this level of verbal hostility and confrontation...

What floored me though? Was that this teacher, who had practically been spitting nails for ten minutes, noticed that I was leaving, and at the drop of a pin she was pleasantly inviting me to come back on Wednesday for my lesson.

Whew!

Talk about a culture lesson.

I'm so thankful that in the two weeks since I started teaching at the elementary school, the teacher hasn't found any reasons to berate me like that, and has always been very friendly with me.

frogs don't say ribbit!

I love learning stuff from young children. Half the time they don't realize that you don't understand 98% of what is coming out of their mouths... but they teach you the best stuff when you don't know their native language!

Plus they ask you the same questions over and over and over and over. So if you don't know the answer the first time... you'll know the next day!

I've noticed this before because of both of my languages... but did you know animals "say" different noises in every language??

For example: Dogs say, "guau, guau" and chicks say, "pio, pio" in Spanish. But in English they say, "ruff, ruff" and "cheep, cheep."

Well... tonight, as my little house guest was taking a bath... he started yelling (from the bathtub), something that sounded like, "kuak, kuak! Kuak, kuak!"

I guessed duck.

But when I walked into the bathroom, where I saw him squatting on the rug with his hands on the floor... and he jumped!?!

Conclusion.... frogs here don't say ribbit... they say "ква, ква!" :D