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Foolishness and Anger

2012-02-22T19:52:00.002-07:00

Tonight I Skyped with my parents. We talked about Kenya, friends, life anddeath, the future and everything in between. My mom shared this verse with me that she discussed in her Bible studythis week: "People ruin their livesby their own foolishness and then are angry at the Lord" (Proverbs 19:3).

How many times have I been angry with God because ofdecisions I made that led to disaster? More times than I’d like to admit on the World Wide Web, or even to myclosest friends. When calamity hits mylife, I immediately search for something or someone to blame. Examining myself and my actions becomes mylast resort if I even attempt it. Holding others responsible, especially God,captures my utmost attention and demands my efforts. Yet Paul commands in 2 Corinthians 13:5, “Examineyourselves to see if your faith is genuine. Test yourselves. Surely you knowthat Jesus Christ is among you; if not, you have failed the test of genuinefaith.” I would much rather focus on thefaults of others than look at mine.

God gave me the freedom of will and choice. When I make a choice that ends badly, it isbecause of my choice. My struggle with Mexico earlier this schoolyear was not because God is sadistic and likes to see me suffer; my strugglecame from my choice to disconnect from people and community and engage withself-pity. Was I mad at God because ofmy situation? Yes. I blamed God for bringing me to Mexico, forallowing horrible things to happen, and then for abandoning me. All of this I realize (in hindsight, of course)was my own foolishness. I was choosingto ruin my life through my attitude, and I was angry with God because of it.

I hope this lesson “sticks” this time!

Showing Mercy

2012-02-19T11:32:00.001-07:00

This morning I was listening to a sermon from the church Iattended when I lived in Colorado Springs, and the topic of the sermon was “Dealingwith Doubt”. One of the passages PastorMatt Heard referenced was Jude verse 22: “And you must show mercy to thosewhose faith is wavering” (NLT).

In every stage of life, in every realm of belief, in every person’s life, doubt pervades. So why then, church, do we stiff-handbelievers when they express doubt about certain aspects of their faith? I think this is one of the reasons I strugglewith churches. In a world full of doubtand uncertainty, Jesus offers mercy and answers. Why don’t more churches follow His lead? Judgment abounds in many churches whichcauses the members to internalize their doubts instead of openly sharing theirthoughts and seeking real answers. Nowthis isn’t to say that every church is like this—just like in the rest of life,speaking in generalities does not hit every one of its aspects. I believe we as Christians, the church, needto be set apart from the world in our thoughts and actions, but why does this separationso often reveal itself in the form of judgment? When doubts are expressed, many “Believers” respond with: “How can you doubt God? How can you say prayer is useless? How canyou say a “loving God” wouldn’t allow such pain? You just need to trust God more.” Sometimes we just need someone to come alongside and encourage us when we are struggling, not tell us there is somethingwrong with us. We need to be open andhonest with others, sharing our struggles, not stuffing them down for fear ofjudgment. My doubts do not make me anyless of a follower of Christ; in fact it is through my doubts that I gain adeeper understanding of Who Christ is. This does not mean we do not hold each other accountable for oursins. Jude goes on to say in verse 23, “Rescueothers by snatching them from the flames of judgment. Show mercy to still others, but do so withgreat caution, hating the sins that contaminate their lives.” In showing mercy to doubters, we mustultimately help guide them back to God’s truth.

In other news, it has been raining in Queretaro for the pastthree weeks—COMPLETELY bizarre for this time of year I’m told. I have been enjoying this “blessing”immensely as it reminds me of the weather back home in Washington. All this moisture has caused the main doorinto my apartment to swell, making me feel like a SWAT team leader ramming myshoulder into the door to gain entry. This rainy, cold weather has also lead to an increase in colds and flus,making my class sizes smaller and my work-load of getting students caught uplarger. I have caught my second coldsince returning to Mexico in January, I managed to throw my neck out onThursday (but thanks to the power of prayer, it is much better), and now I amhaving spasms in my lower back. Yet inthe midst of these minor difficulties, God is good. I am almost entirely caught up on my grading,I’ve been able to read a lot this weekend and ponder some interesting areas ofmy life, and I got to chat with one of my sisters via Skype yesterday. Dios es bueno todo el tiempo (God is good allof the time)—sometimes we just have to look a little harder to see this truth!

Whistling Donkey

2012-02-09T16:01:00.001-07:00

Today as I was working with another teacher, she said, “Wow,I’m like the whistling donkey.” To whichI replied, “What?” and laughed hysterically. She said, “No, it’s a real saying.” I asked her if there was a story behind her saying, and this is what shetold me: “Once there was this farmer whohad a donkey. The donkey made reallyannoying noises, you know ‘Eeee-aaaaaw’, and the farmer didn’t want to hearit. So he put a whistle in the donkey’smouth so the donkey would suck on that instead of making the annoyingnoise. One day, the donkey actually blewinto the whistle and it made noise, so the farmer took his donkey and put it ona stage in front of people, thinking the donkey would blow the whistle againand the farmer would be famous, but the donkey just sucked on the whistle. So the saying means anytime you do somethinggood or cool without meaning to it’s like the whistling donkey.” And she also told me I should pass this storyalong to my parents or put it in my blog, so here it is! What a relief to have something to blogabout!

I truly feel fortunate this semester to be where I am. I’m still struggling with decisions that aremade at my school and how people are treated there, and also typical teacher/studentmatters, but I’m grateful. I feel like I’mcontributing to something bigger than myself (my reason for wanting to come toMexico in the first place), but it is different than how I thought it would be. Instead of bring my knowledge of IB and theMYP to this school and making a huge impact throughout the whole building, Ifind that I am making smaller impressions in individual people. And now that I’ve finally gotten over myselfand am adjusting to the groove of this culture, I am trying to be moreintentional about these individuals. Simple acts such as sending an encouraging email to a strugglingteacher, sharing resources and experiences with others, and finding time to sitdown and chat with people in the midst of a hectic schedule all go a lotfurther than sharing everything I know about IB.

Jesus came to earth to save everyone which he accomplishedby dying on the cross, but while he was alive, he invested in the lives of asmall group of people to encourage and teach them. When I stand before God to be judged on mylife and actions, I don’t think God is going to say, “tsk, tsk, why didn’t youimpart your knowledge and experience of IB to JFK?” I think God is going to be asking, “Did youlove my people in Mexico? Did youencourage and help them? Did you weepand pray over them as I did, and did you tell them about Me?” God is reminding me anew that my job as ateacher has very little to do with teaching curriculum and standards and hasEVERYTHING to do with loving His children. The standards and content are important too, especially if I want tokeep my job, but I have a bigger purpose.

So that whole, “I want to be part of something bigger thanmyself” thing I was spouting off prior to coming to Mexico, I think I’ve foundit, but it has nothing to do with teaching in Mexico and everything to do withGod.

Shaping Character and Attitude

2012-02-03T19:46:00.000-07:00

God’s provision is an intricate thing. In many ways, it’s obscure and difficult tonavigate, but in other ways it’s dumbfounding in its simplicity. I still have not grasped the true reason formy journey to Queretaro, but I’m believing more and more that it’s less andless about the actual students. Oh sure,I’m still trying to make a positive impact on these students in hopes for abetter future, but there is something bigger going on. For starters, my life is radically changing,and I think for the better. God isshaping my character and my attitude, and stripping me of my dependence onthings other than Him.

This second semester is already so different from firstsemester. My circumstances haven’tchanged so much as my attitude towards them. My students are still crazy, the administration is crazier still, and mySpanish still isn’t where I’d like it to be, but I have perspective on allthese things. These circumstances arenot my problem—the fact that I’ve been focusing solely on myself has been theproblem. I have been making myselfmiserable by wallowing in self-pity. No,Mexico is not what I thought it would be, and neither is my life for thatmatter, but this is only a small piece of a grand plan. I have been learning that the farther I pushoutside of myself and focus on others, the better my attitude becomes. God is revealing a small glimpse at thatgrand plan, and I want be a part of it instead of just watching it happen.

Great things that have resulted from this revelation: I’mnot stressed about my lesson planning even when I have to modify the samelesson four different times because it totally bombed; pushing past myself hasallowed me to get to know some other people and build friendships with some ofthe National teachers—I actually like I have friends now! I am pouring into people, and as a result,they are pouring back into me. I amrediscovering how much I enjoy getting to know people on a personal level. I am becoming more what God wants me to be—Hishands and feet.

Lesson learned (or still in the process of being learnedanyways): when life is at its bleakest and I am consumed with my problems, Ineed to do something nice for someone else and get the focus off ofmyself. God will do the rest.

Letter to Mom

2012-01-26T19:19:00.004-07:00

Tonight I was writing an email to my mom and some of the stuff Iwas writing seemed appropriate to share in a more global fashion, so here’s asampling of my thoughts to my mom:

“Iremember talking with you and dad earlier this school year about perspectiveand how I just didn't have any. For the first half of this year, you and dadand friends from back home gave me perspective about my situations and prayedthat God would help me trust without seeing the reasons behind them. I feellike God is finally starting to reveal a bit of His plan. I still don't knowentirely why I'm here in Mexico, of all places. But I get to go to Kenya, Ihave a friend who's dad is a doctor and can give me all my shots (and probablycould help me out with the malaria injections if I were to get that after I getback), I'm learning new tricks to use in the classroom, I'm starting to buildsome relationships and with whom I might have a positive impact, I'm getting tosee and experience some cool things, and at this point, the more I release myworries and stresses to God, He show's me that my future is all planned out.For a while I was stressed about figuring out how to get my vaccinations, wherethe money would come from to get me to Kenya, what I am going to do after thisyear, if I'll even survive the rest of this school year--you know, typicalstuff. God has it all under His control, and I'm gaining more perspective onthat.

I know things can seem pretty bleak because of life circumstances, but I keepcoming back to God's promise in Jeremiah 29. Like the Israelites, I think we'rein exile; it may not take the same form as it did in history, but I think God'spromise holds just as true to us today as it did then: "'For I know theplans I have for you,' says the Lord. 'They are plans for good and not fordisaster, to give you a future and a hope. In those days when you pray, I willlisten. If you look for me wholeheartedly, you will find me. I will be found byyou,' says the Lord. 'I will end your captivity and restore your fortunes. Iwill gather you out of the nations where I sent you and will bring you homeagain to your own land.'" (vs 11-14). My captivity may look more likeself-pity or depression, but God says if I pray to Him, He willlisten, and that if I look for Him, He will be found.Sometimes (MOST times) I wish that He would reveal Himself a little sooner, butHe promises that He will!”

Inciting Incidents

2012-01-24T15:02:00.000-07:00

I’m about half way through A Million Miles in a Thousand Years: How I Learned to Live a BetterStory by Donald Miller (thanks for the recommendation, Brittney!). In this book, Miller describes his journey ofunderstanding that our lives are made up of stories; they have the sameelements: expositions, inciting incidents, rising actions, climaxes, fallingactions, and resolutions. Some peoplelive good stories, other people live boring stories (a bit confusing, but ifyou read the book, it will all make sense!). Anyways, as I was walking back to my apartment this afternoon, I wasthinking about all of the “inciting incidents” I’ve had in my life that forcedme to change. Just like in stories wheresomething happens in a character’s life that forces him/her to leave home,change jobs, or make some kind of life-altering situation, God places incitingincidents in our lives to force us to change. Here are some of the moments I came up with:

· Not getting accepted to the college I planned onattending after high school which forced me to open my mind to Whitworth—amazingexperience, but one I would not have chosen on my own

· Not finding a teaching job in Spokane and havingto sub for a year—I learned a lot about having back-up plans and living on myown

· Not finding a job in the State of Washington andlooking in Colorado—made great friends, got trained in IB, and learned a lotabout relationships

· Reaching an uncomfortable place with a friendand my job that made me investigate teaching abroad and brought me to Mexico—I’mlearning so much more about relationships, Mexico, and I have the opportunityto visit the Rehema/InStep Orphanage in Kenya

· Reaching a (many) breaking point(s) here inMexico that made me decide not to return for a second year—not sure what thefall-out will be since this is current

All of these inciting incidences forced me to make a drasticchange in my life. Without these closed(and in some cases, SLAMMED) doors and as my mom puts it, “death of a vision’s”,I would not be living a very good story. It’s the conflict in stories that makes them interesting and worthwatching or reading. The same is truewith our lives. Does this make my brokendreams any easier? In hind-sight, yesbecause I can see God’s hand in it; while I’m in the midst of the conflict,heck no! I just want my mommy! But, it’s also comforting to know that I’mliving a really good story! :)

Numerous Blessings

2012-01-23T15:02:00.000-07:00

Good news. Two littlewords that when combined create an emotional response that rivals the explosion ofan Atom Bomb. Well, at least in myopinion.

I have three pieces of good news to share today (such awelcome note after the last posting, for ALL of us!):

1) The health clinic where I can get my vaccinations forKenya is open on Saturdays, so I will not have to take any days off to get myshots! This is such a stress-reliever! Now I just need to bribe a Spanish-speakingfriend to go with me… any takers?
2) I was essentiallyoffered a teaching position for next year contingent upon the formality of a Skypeinterview.
3) An anonymous donorput a significant amount of money into my Kenya account.

Is this just the beginning of what’s to come or the eye ofthe storm? At this point, it doesn’tmatter. I’m living day-by-day, and todayis a good and blessed day.

Do I HAVE to?

2012-01-21T17:09:00.000-07:00

“I want to know Christand experience the mighty power that raised him from the dead. I want to sufferwith him, sharing in his death, so that one way or another I will experiencethe resurrection from the dead!” Philippians 3:10-11

But what happens when I don’t want to suffer or share in Hisdeath?

Since coming to Mexico, I have been fortunate to experiencemany opportunities that others may never attain: rafting down a powder-blue riverin the jungle, visiting a tribute-castle to Surrealism art, being in a crowd sothick I had no control of when I went, experiencing life without water orelectricity, trying so many new things it makes my head spin just thinkingabout it. My life has been packed withadventure. I do want to know Christ andfollow His leading, and I do want to experience that mighty power thatovertakes death—I’ve seen a glimpse and I desire more. But I’m tired of suffering. I’m losing sight of why I am here. Every day is a constant struggle, and I feelthat I am being pushed back and defeated. If it isn’t the struggle of going without basic necessities like runningwater or electricity, it’s the struggle of loneliness, or battling withpolitics at work, or dealing with privileged students who don’t give a damnabout listening or following directions or learning how to problem-solve—their moneyand family will take care of them! Yes,I’ve met some neat people and experienced some fun adventures worth writing homeabout, but I’ve also been constantly bombarded with difficulties that seem tooinsurmountable to even attempt let alone conquer.

In Isaiah it talks about God sitting back and watchingquietly from his place in Heaven while a battle rages and then He swoops in atthe last minute and wins the day (18:4). Much of our entertainment follows that same theme of waiting until thelast moment and then good triumphs over evil and everyone lives happily ever after. When watching those shows, I find myselfskipping to the end mentally and thinking about how awesome everything will be,and I don’t pay attention to the trials the characters face to get to the end. This is especially true with movies or showsI’ve seen before, like “Lord of the Rings”—I know that Frodo and Sam willsurvive the journey, Middle Earth will be saved, and Good will triumph overEvil. I don’t think about thedifficulties of the characters; I just enjoy the special effects and wait forthe happy ending. So why can’t the samebe true in my life? I’m trying to focuson the end goal of surviving this school year in Mexico, but I can’t get mymind past all of the difficulties that hound me day after day. I know God is at work in my life, but I can’thelp picturing Him sitting back in His comfy throne just quietly watching mestruggle. When is my Hero going to swoopdown into action and save the day?

Every day I try to perk up my attitude by reading anencouraging word from God, and almost every day by the end of the day I feeldefeated.

OLord, how long will you forget me? Forever?

                    Howlong will you look the other way?
             Howlong must I struggle with anguish in my soul,
                    with sorrow in my heart every day?
                    How long will my enemy have the upperhand?
             Turnand answer me, O Lord my God!
                    Restore the sparkle to my eyes, or Iwill die.
             Don’tlet my enemies gloat, saying, “We have defeated him!”
                      Don’t let them rejoice at my downfall.
             ButI trust in your unfailing love.
                     I will rejoice because you have rescuedme.
             Iwill sing to the Lord
                     because he is good to me. Psalm 13

Support for Kenya

2012-01-18T16:17:00.000-07:00

Dear Family and Friends,

As many of you know, my parents have been donating theirtime, energy, and money to a children’s home in Kenya under the name of RehemaInStep Ministries. Now I have theopportunity to visit this home during the first two weeks of April 2012.

Rehema InStep is currently home to 106 mostly abandoned andabused children, 90 of whom are 5-yrs-old and younger. These kids receive food, shelter, and mostimportantly, love on a daily basis. RehemaInStepprovides a stable, loving environment for kids who would otherwise bediscarded. In addition to providing ahome and family for these children, this ministry also provides jobs for widows, single moms, field workers, and securityguards—Rehema InStep is the largest employer in the area of Sibanga, Kenya.

So where do I comein? Well, in the words of my father,Terry Kiser, this is a “reconnaissance mission”. After this school year in Mexico, I do nothave any definite plans for next year. This trip to Kenya will allow me to explore another option for what Godmight have in store for me in the future. In addition to scouting options for next year, I hope to accomplish afew goals:

· Experience God’s love and grace outside of mylimited understanding of those qualities

· Play music for the kids and staff

· Find inspiration for a few new songs

· Wade into the melee and assist with the careof the kids

Since my parents’ first trip to the children’s home in 2010, I’vebeen looking for a way to visit myself. Now,God has provided the opportunity with a break the first two weeks of April thisyear. I strongly believe He is callingme to Africa to explore His heart. Andso, that leads me to the purpose of this letter: to ask for your support inthis endeavor however you feel God would lead you.

· Take a long look at the children’s homewebsite: http://www.rehemainstep.com

· Prayer Support: Take some time to pray for thekids and staff at Rehema InStep, and please join me in praying that God wouldprepare me mentally, physically, and spiritually for this trip, that he wouldprovide protection and peace in traveling, that God would use me in the livesof everyone I come in contact with and vice versa, and mainly that God wouldbreak my heart for the things that break His.

· Financial Support: Having a willing heart is not enough to getme to Africa; the cost of the flights and transportation will be between$2300-2500, plus $15 per day to cover the cost of room and board at thechildren’s home. Any amount will help. Support may be mailed to 13455 Gibralter Rd,Anacortes, WA 98221, and checks may be made payable to Rehema InStep (pleasetag “April Mission—Kari Kiser” in the memo line). This is a 501c3 organization, so the giftsare tax deductible.

· Spreading the Word: Please feel free to share information aboutRehema InStep Ministries and/or my trip with others.

If you would like to keep up with all of my adventures to Kenyaand back, I will be blogging about them at: http://dondeestaelbanoporfavor.blogspot.com. Also, if you would like to learn moreabout Rehema InStep Ministries, the children they help, and/or learn how to getinvolved yourself, please visit http://www.rehemainstep.com/.

Thank you for your time and support!

Kari Kiser

“Then Iheard the Lord asking, ‘Whom should I send as a messenger to this people? Whowill go for us?’ I said, “Here I am. Send me.’” Isaiah 6:8

Jenga Philosophy

2012-01-08T15:58:00.001-07:00

One of my many faults is that I confuse happiness withjoy. Now you Wordsmiths out there may bethinking, “Hey Kari, those two words are synonyms,” and from a purelydictionarial (yes, I just made that word up) perspective, I would agree withyou. From a spiritual perspective, thesewords are very different.

Like most people, I enjoy being happy. Among some of the top things that make mehappy are kind words from others, spending time with friends, giving andreceiving gifts, and corny jokes. I amhappiest when these things seem to gel together and everything seems to beunder my control. Unfortunately,happiness is kind of like a game of Jenga; suspense and elation build as yetanother wooden piece is pulled from the bottom and placed on top until thestructure is unstable and topples in a crashing, heaping mess. No matter how many levels you construct andhow many personal records you accumulate (the highest recorded tower is currently 40 2/3 levels, by the way), the end result is always the same:your creation will topple.

This is theproblem with my self-maintained happiness. Sure, it’s fun for a while, seeing how much happiness I can sustain fromthe same building blocks just slightly rearranged, but eventually it comes to acrashing end and I am left feeling hollow and dissatisfied.

In contrast to this game of happiness stands joy—the “confidentassurance of God’s love and work in our lives” (taken from my NLT StudyBible). Joy extends beyond individualblocks of circumstances to a firm foundation like that of a house. Knowing that no matter what may happen in mylife, Christ is in control of every minute detail, and that gives me thefreedom to experience true Joy. I don’thave to wonder when my joy will give out and come crashing down because my joyin Christ is solid, as long as I cling to Him and not to my blocks of happiness.

I know this next semester will be filled with trials anddisappointments, but God holds my life in His hands, and I want to rest in thatassurance and experience that Joy.

Control or Trust

2012-01-07T09:25:00.004-07:00

So I was reading the Transformed International (find outmore information here: http://www.transformedinternational.org/index.php) blogthat Dad posted and scrolled down to the note Daniel wrote about leaving Kenyaand I was struck by this part:

I have a lot of anxiety about being inAmerica for more than a few months. Kenya has become home and where I feel likeI have purpose, being anywhere but here feels scary. The Lord is reminding meof my perceived “need” to be in control. I’m convinced that control and havingfaith in the Lord can’t occupy the same space in a man’s soul. So the more Itry to be in control, the more my heart struggles with trusting the Father’splan.

I don’t like change because I’m not incontrol. But at the same time, I crave it as it causes me to grasp onto theonly firm thing in my life, my relationship with God. (http://blog.transformedinternational.org/)

If I replace America with Mexico, and Kenya with America,this seems to be what I'm facing too. There is absolutely nothing I can control here in Mexico--between thelanguage barrier and the constant barrage of what others are calling "badluck", I can't do anything to fix my predicaments. All I can do is continue to work on myattitude and trust God's plan...whatever that may be. Control and trust are warring words, and themore I give into one, the less I hold onto the other. This semester I want to hold onto trust andlet go of my control. This is not aneasy task, but it’s nice knowing I’m not the only one that feels the way I doabout where God has me.

Who Needs Electricity? I DO!!!

2012-01-04T09:50:00.002-07:00

So I was all excited to come home from work and continue theplanning I started at work for my current unit when I found the power was outAGAIN! I calmly called Jeff (the guy tocall when in trouble) and relayed my predicament. He sighed and said he would check to see ifit was a bill not paid problem. A fewmoments later he called again to say the bill had been paid and that he wouldsend a maintenance person out to check into it. Meanwhile I began the oh-so enjoyable task of cleaning out a rottenrefrigerator for the second time this holiday season (the first was my parents’fridge in the garage that went out while they were in Kenya for two months). The pungent odor was enough to make me gagand almost vomit several times, and now my entire apartment smells like rottenmeat. The fridge is cleaned out, butstill reeks. The maintenance guy cameshortly after I finished washing all of the parts I could pry out of the fridgeand proceeded to check the breakers, take off the power amp reader to look atthe wires, take off the neighbor’s reader to look at the wires, and then hecame back up to my apartment and told me he had to return to school to get aladder. I kept myself busy with changingthe sheets on my bed and unpacking my suitcase. While I was packing up my dirty sheets and clothes to take to thelavanderia, I discovered a dead mouse amongst the clothes. Dropping the pillow case, I jumped back inhorror—I did not squeal however! Mysuspicions of something nibbling my little Ziploc of marshmallows areconfirmed, and I’m glad I changed my sheets! Yuck!!! The mouse is not in mytrash, waiting to be hauled to the dumpster, and I think I’ve swept up most ofthe mouse poop. The little creatureseems to have been mostly confined to the two bedrooms because I haven’t foundany evidence of poop anywhere else in my apartment…yet. I am a bit disgusted that it died in my dirtylaundry, but perhaps I could market the idea as the latest in mouse bait. Now I have added to my grocery list D-con, orwhatever mouse killer they have here. Inthe meantime, I’m leaving my dirty laundry where it is to ward off any friends,and dining on chocolate until I can get to the grocery store and have somewherecold to put my food. I’m not sure whenthe power will be back on, but I’m praying soon.

You all should be grateful that I’m dealing with so manyadversities—what else would I have to blog about so you can be thoroughlyentertained from a safe distance?

Oh, and here’s what I read yesterday in Psalm 42: “ Why am Idiscouraged? Why is my heart so sad? I will put my hope in God! I will praisehim again—my Savior and my God! Now I amdeeply discouraged, but I will remember you—even from the distand Mount Hermon,the source of the Jordan, from the land of Mount Mizar. I hear the tumult ofthe raging seas as your waves and surging tides sweep over me. But each day theLord pours his unfailing love upon me, and through each night I sing his songs,praying to God who gives me life.”

I’m still pretty discouraged since things are starting to bleed over intomy work—I can’t plan, I can’t grade the essays online, I’m not getting muchhelp from people at school because everyone is busy with something moreimportant, and I can’t focus at school because of being preoccupied by myproblems. I would like to have one areaof my life here in Mexico that is not so difficult, but that doesn’t seem to beGod’s plan for me right now. I can onlytrust God’s unfailing love for me and His plan for my life.

New Theme Song

2012-01-02T19:04:00.000-07:00

Over break I heard a song that pretty much sums up what Ithink God is up to in my life: “Blessings” by Laura Story. Here is the chorus:

“'Cause what if Your blessings comethrough raindrops
What if Your healing comes through tears
What if a thousand sleepless nights
Are what it takes to know You’re near
What if trials of this life are Your mercies in disguise”

I know God is working in my life, but everything over thepast couple of years have been way more difficult than I could have everanticipated, and this year especially has pushed me past my breaking point moretimes than I can count.. But afterspending two relaxing and comfortable weeks in the comfort of my parents’ home,I was hopeful that returning to Mexico would be a bit easier…

Surprisingly, the actual traveling part was relativelygood. At 3:05 am my dad loaded mysuitcase, guitar, and two carry-on bags into my Mazda and my parents and Idrove down to SEATAC for my 7:06 am flight. My parents said a quick prayer over me at the curb, my mom gave me somecash for food (gotta love moms!), and I went to check my bag and guitar. I made my way to the gate by way of theunderground train, and arrived in plenty of time to watch a few episodes of “TheMiddle” before take-off. San Franciscoairport was fine, although I learned the hard way to find food before walkingdown to the International Flights wing. After a three hour layover and more of “The Middle” I found my seat formy flight to Mexico City. After gettingsituated, a flight attendant asked me if I wouldn’t mind moving to the exit rowso a family could sit together, so I got to enjoy extra leg room and emptyseats all around me! The flight part wasgreat!

We landed in Mexico City around 7pm and I spent the nexthour waiting in line to get through customs. When it was my turned, I handed the agent my work visa, Passport, andnew immigration slip, and I passed right through! I thanked God and hurried off to find mychecked luggage, which was waiting for when I got to the carousel. I passed through the next security pointwithout having to be searched, and found the bus ticketing counter after askinga security guard by 8:20 pm. I purchasedmy bus ticket to Querétaro on the next available bus, which was at 9:10 pm. After waiting for an hour, I finally boardedthe bus. During the next three hours, Islept for about 15 minutes. We pulledinto the bus station about 12:00 am, and I purchased my ticket for a taxi andwaited in a line outside for another hour to get in the taxi (got to loveMexican efficiency). At 1:15 am Ifinally made it to my apartment and discovered I had no electricity, and Icouldn’t find an open internet signal to email my parents to let them know Imade it safely, and I was out of minutes on my phone so I couldn’t text or callthem either.

This morning I got up and checked my refrigerator todiscover a terrible odor, just like the one I dealt with when I cleaned out myparents’ fridge over break—apparently my electricity had been off for a longtime. This of course made me burst intotears of frustration. After getting arecharge on my phone, I was finally able to contact my parents and share myfrustration of not being able to plan or grade (of which I had done none overbreak) and they prayed for me over the phone. The rest of the afternoon I worked on putting together a 1000 piecepuzzle (over half way done with it too), played guitar a bit (it is so nice tobe able to play and sing again), finished watching the first season of “TheMiddle” including all of the special features, and started the pilot episode of“Alias” again—the battery life on my new laptop is pretty awesome! I decided to make a cup of hot chocolate towarm up since I couldn’t use my heaters and I felt like I was camping with myheadlamp and heating water in a frying pan over the gas burner. After I climbed back into bed, I heard voicesoutside my window and then my bedside clock lit up—I had power!!! This doesn’t solve the problem of myrefrigerator being full of rotting food, but this does solve my issue of havingno internet and no heat!

Do I know what God is up to? Is He trying to determine at what point I break down and cry (whichdoesn’t take much here in Mexico)? I have no idea, but I do know that His plans arefor good and not disaster (no matter how much it feels the opposite), and plansto give me a hope and a future (no matter how hopeless things seem toget). I am strapping myself to thisverse in Jeremiah because I’m exhausted from clinging to it for so long. At this point I do not want to be here inMexico, but I still believe this is where God wants me, and I want to beobedient. I desperately need yourprayers and encouragements to continue. Thank you for all of your support!

There's No Place Like Home

2011-12-20T20:47:00.001-07:00

Traveling—just the mention of the word turns my stomach intoa Cat’s Cradle game. My trip from Mexicoto the US proved to be more anxiety inducing than others, but I planned on thatbeing the case. Let me back up and startfrom the beginning: Friday.

In order to get to the airport in Mexico City for my 6:50 amflight Saturday morning, I needed to get a taxi to take me to the bus stationfor my 1:00 am bus to Mexico City. MySpanish hasn’t improved much and I was nervous about having to call andschedule a taxi, but Lulu offered to call for me and put me on the schedule tobe picked up at 12:30 am—it only takes about 10-15 minutes to get to thestation. Well 12:30 am rolls around and(TIM) no taxi. I waited for about 8minutes and then walked up to the front gate of my apartment to see if I couldflag one down. An unmarked car stoppedwith a man and woman and they asked if I needed a taxi… uh, StrangerDanger!!! Luckily a REAL taxi pulled upnext and I jumped in that one. Thedriver asked me a bunch of questions in Spanish, and I did my best torespond. Somewhere around 12:50 am heasked when my bus was leaving and I told him 1:00 am. He looked at me in the rearview mirror andthen stepped on the gas pedal—we weren’t on the main highway to the terminalbut on some back roads. He weaved in andout of traffic and sped over topes (speed bumps). He kept looking back and saying “A la una… ay…”and drove faster. Despite TIM (This IsMexico), there is also PTL (Praise The Lord) in this first leg of the journeybecause I managed to make it ON the bus by 1:00 am! I was the very last person and received manyglares, but I made it.

Second leg… I made it to the right terminal, checked my bag(more to come on that later), and made it through security okay. (Just a note to those of you flying out ofMexico in the near future: you do not have to take your shoes off and ifyou do, they look at you funny and tell you to put them back on.) So I wandered around looking for Immigrationand found it because there was a HUGE line of people and no one at either ofthe two desks! Typical Mexicanefficiency… luckily I arrived at the airport in plenty of time to be able towait an hour in line and still make my flight. Things I learned so far in the trip: 1) When ordering a taxi, give anhour of cushion instead of a half hour; 2) again I am confirmed in my decisionto leave Mexico after this year; and 3) Expecting the worst but relying on God’sSovereignty is a good combination.

Third leg… San Francisco. I survived Immigration only to learn that I am expected to get myluggage from baggage claim and Recheck it too late. I didn’t pick up on the clues of everyonearound me getting their bags and grabbing luggage carts… They wouldn’t let mego back the 20 feet to get my bag and told me that I just needed to go to mygate and hope the bag makes it to my final destination—yeah right! After going through security AGAIN, I grabbeda Subway sandwich and settled in at my gate. At least I was back in a country I could understand and speak thelanguage.

Fourth leg… SEATAC. As expected, my luggage did not make it to Seattle. I reported my lost bag to a Unitedrepresentative who was very kind and humorous. He pointed out that the first problem is that my bag was incorrectlytagged—I am not Benito. My bag’s finaldestination, according to the incorrect tag, was San Francisco. After a quick email to the people in SanFrancisco, I was told my bag would be returned within a couple of days. Luckily I was picking up my parents fromSEATAC Monday and I could pick it up then. Upon opening my bag, I found a note that said they found and destroyedthree Kinder Eggs because they are illegal in the US, but they managed to leavebehind one in my bag…

Things I learned from this trip: 1) When ordering a taxi,give an hour of cushion instead of a half hour; 2) again I am confirmed in mydecision to leave Mexico after this year; 3) I’ll always double check myluggage tags; and 4) Expecting the worst but relying on God’s Sovereignty is agood combination.

It’s good to be home.

Frisbee, Packages, and Home

2011-12-14T20:14:00.005-07:00

What do you get when you mix an unpracticed team, a Frisbee tournamentnear Mexico City, and a catchy cheer? The Best Team Spirit Award, of course! This past weekend I traveled to Zumpango (just north of Mexico City) tocompete against eight other teams in Ultimate Frisbee. Unfortunately, our team never actuallypracticed all together and it showed on the field. Out of the five games we played, we lostevery single one. Although expected, itwas a bit sad. I played Ultimate on anintermural team in college, but the level at this competition was wayhigher. I felt like I had no idea what Iwas doing. A few of the other girls dida good job of trying to explain to me what I should be doing while guarding andplaying different positions. Sometimesit was difficult to understand what they were telling me since it was mostly inSpanish, but I certainly learned a lot. ThingsI learned: I’m WAY out of shape; I miss playing on a team; I really need to workon my flick; “venga” and “vamos” are great words to shout in a game; and mybody doesn’t like the extreme temperature changes here in central Mexico—30* atnight and mid 70s during the day makes my body freak out and colds worse! Yet another reason Mexico isn’t quite theright fit for me… BUT even though we didn’twin any games, my team won the Best Team Spirit award (which looks identical tothe first place medals…just sayin’)! One of the girls, Zus (“z” is pronounced the same as “s” in Spanish)came up with a fun and catchy cheer that we sang as often as possible; it wasso catchy that some of the teams we played sang it to us whenever they saw us,or cheered us on in other games!

Tuesday night was the JFK staff party. Everyone from the school is invited to attendfrom teachers to office staff to maintenance staff. They served us a four course meal, had anopen bar (not too exciting for me, but others took advantage of theopportunity), raffled off prizes, and had a DJ pumping out dance tunes. One of the Spanish teachers dragged me out onthe dance floor for a while and it was fun to be silly with the other staff members. I line danced to “Achy Breaky Heart” inSpanish, and belted it out during “Man, I Feel Like A Woman”. It was an experience for sure!

After the party, I was able to finally dive into the two “Kar-packages”I received that day: one from my sister Jeni loaded with chocolates and othergoodies I can’t find here in Mexico, and the other one was from the teachers Iworked with at MRMS. As I explored themany treasures and notes, I bawled my eyes out. I was, and still am, overwhelmed by how much people care for me and loveme even though I’m thousands of miles away! I can’t tell you what it means to me to know I’m not forgotten. Everything is so new and different in my liferight now that I feel lost most of the time and unknown. Many of you reminded me that is not the case. I am so blessed by family and friends, but Ihad lost sight of this until now. It’seasy to become solely focused on all the problems in life and become blind tothe good, and there is so much good!

Saturday morning I board a flight to Seattle to spendChristmas Break with my family, and I can’t wait! Top things I’m looking forward to: long and hot showers, baking/cooking in afully stocked kitchen, decorating the house before my parents get home, beingsurrounded by a language I know, church and worship, playing my guitar andsinging, seeing all of my family, sleeping, playing Wii, and just all of the “knowns”of home (not necessarily in that order).

Decisions and Conclusions

2011-12-08T17:29:00.001-07:00

For those of you worried that I have fallen off the edge of the earth,I have good news: the world is round, and I’m still on it!

As always, life has been a whirlwind. Since my last post about Thanksgiving in Puerto Vallarta I have had afew melt-downs, attended a very festive Christmas party with many of the internationalteachers, and chowed down on some delicious Costco pizza.

Last week I made the decision not to return to JFK for next schoolyear. There are many factors that playedinto this decision, but it boils down to not being the right fit. God has been affirming me in this decision inthe midst of my wavering and freaking out about what I’ll do next year andthinking I’m a failure. After chats withmy mom in Kenya, and friends in the States, I’ve had time to process this verdict,and here’s what I’ve concluded:

1) I am not a failure for choosing to leave next year; there are toomany aspects about Mexico and JFK that I disagree with, and I truly do notthink I can be happy or effective here. At my old school I felt like I was contributing, I was surrounded bysupportive staff members that no only helped me at school, but also outside—theywere my extended family. Here I don’tfeel like I’m making a difference at all, and the language barrier is too muchfor me to overcome at this point. Teaching is hard enough without the added challenges of not fitting inwithin school and without.

2) It’s ok if I don’t know what I’m going to do next year. God has lead the way and provided for myevery need for the past 27+ years; He’s not going to abandon me now!

3) I know more about what I want from my place of employment. Family (even if not blood-related) is themost important factor, along with collaboration with peers. I am so relationship motivated that I cannotsubsist in an environment without that. It is also important to be near a church that I can understand and feela part of—if my employment does not allow that, it’s not worth it.

4) Friends and family are SO important, even if they are thousands ofmiles away. I could never have made itthis far without the support and encouragement of everyone in the Springs,Anacortes, and wherever else you may be in the world. And I cannot make it the remaining six monthswithout you, so keep it up!

5) Having something to look forward too (like walking to Costco forpizza, playing in an ultimate Frisbee tournament in Mexico City, or going homefor Christmas) helps encourage me to keep moving ahead and not give up.

It’s been a rough school year so far, and I know there are moredifficulties ahead, but I’m learning a lot. God knows what He’s doing—I may not like it, but it’s for my best.

Puerto Vallarta for Thanksgiving

2011-11-29T17:52:00.001-07:00

Thursday night seven of us loaded onto abus bound for Puerto Vallarta. I washoping to purchase my bus ticket to the airport in Mexico City before leavingthe bus terminal, but I realized that I had lost my debit card somewherebetween Wednesday afternoon and then. Luckily I had taken out enough cash to get me through the weekend, and Itried not to worry about the lost card—God is still Sovereign even in ourclumsiness! Our bus left around 8:15 pmand we were given a packaged sandwich, a granola bar, a pop or juice and abottle of water before we boarded. Allof us sat near each other and were giggly for the first 30 minutes of thetrip. The first movie that they showedwas “Father of the Bride” in English with English subtitles—weird. After that they showed three more movies, alldubbed in Spanish. Most of the girlsslept on and off, but I didn’t sleep well at all. The seats seem like they would be reallycomfortable: they were wider than regular bus seats and reclined at almost a140* angle, and there were little footrests that kind of propped your feet up. I found that the footrest just made my feetfall asleep, and I usually sleep on my side or stomach. At the end of the almost 10 hour bus ride, Ithink I slept a collective two hours. Wemade it to our hotel around 6:15am and were able to check into the Holiday Innearly and head down to the beach to watch the sunrise. Four of the girls were able to get into theirroom right away, but our keys didn’t work. It turned out it wasn’t our fault; one of the hotel employees tried fouror five different times with his little machine and then finally gave usanother room at the end of the hall. After breakfast we laid on the beach all day, soaking in the sun,dipping in the pool, and fending off vendors.

There are few things more calming thanthe sound of gentle waves lapping upon the shore. The problem with Puerto Vallarta is that thesound is constantly being interrupted by hawkers peddling their wares. Most of the beach is government propertyexcept for the roped off areas right in front of the hotels, and people areallowed to sell whatever as long as they are wearing all white. “Hola, you want hat? Practically free…whichone you want…what you want today…Hey beautiful womans, what you like…you wantnecklace? One peso…off” The worst by faris when they try to guilt-tip you into buying something. “You no have money, I no have money; you needbuy so I feed family.” And as soon asyou step foot on that beach, regardless of skin or hair color, the barrage beginsand does not relent until sunset. Atfirst I was intrigued, but after a few hours it was just annoying. I know they are just doing their job, but bythe second day I couldn’t even politely say no; I just ignored them.

Friday evening Melanie, Lauren and Iwent for a horse ride on the beach at sunset. I have never ridden a horse before and I’ve heard many differentreactions to riding horses. Some peoplelove it and want to own their own or already do, and others are terrified. I figured that I would just go into it withan open mind and see what happened and just hope I didn’t fall off! The three horses that were waiting for uswere definitely older and seemed pretty docile, and two of them were onlyslightly larger than ponies. Unfortunately, I don’t remember the name of my horse, but I reallyenjoyed the ride. The wooden saddle wasn’tvery comfortable, especially when we galloped a bit, but I would love to ride ahorse again. Our guide walked alongbeside us for a while until we came to a small stream. He told us to cross and ride down to themarina and come back. So I said a silentprayer, leaned back as the horse descended the small bank, leaned forward as hescrambled up the other side and waited for my friends. We had fun working our way down the beach,seeing people’s reactions to us, and taking pictures of the sunset and eachother. It was a fun adventure.

I treated Saturday pretty much the sameas Friday except I wore a t-shirt to keep from burning my chest and back moreand without the horse ride. We met threefirefighters from Edmonton, Alberta and played volleyball with them in theafternoon. Then Melanie, Abby and Iscrambled to shower, change, pack and head downtown to dinner before having tocatch the 9:00pm bus back to Queretaro. The bus ride back was a bit worse for me. I got to sit next to strangers, and the busonly showed one and a half movies—the half was in English… Every time I triedto read I got car sick, and the guy who sat next to me kept invading myseat. Finally when his head hit myshoulder I sat bolt upright and flicked the seat up so it hit him in theface! I think I only slept about an hourcollectively on the nine hour ride back. When we pulled into the terminal, Melanie took care of getting us a caband even paid for my bus ticket to the airport since I still hadn’t found mydebit card—which was good because I was NOT coherent due to lack of sleep andan oncoming cold, and trying to think and talk in Spanish was not working forme, just ask Melanie! :)

Stepping outside we were greeted with acold wind and temperatures in the low 40s (yes, I’m still working in Fahrenheit…). Thetaxi ride took a long time to get home because they had a major street closedfor some kind of running event or something, but eventually we got to Melanie’sand then I walked home from there. Afterrummaging through my bags again in search of my lost debit card, I took a long,hot shower, popped a few nighttime cold pills and spent the rest of the dayslipping in and out of consciousness.

Monday, of course, came way toosoon. The school day went well. Cristi from HR called and cancelled my debitcard and found out that no one had used the card since my lasttransaction! DEBTET! After school Danielle (my AP) drove me to thebank, waited in all of the lines, and helped me get a new card. Then she even drove me home! What a gal!

In summary, while I missed my family forThanksgiving, I certainly had an adventure and I’m thankful for the opportunity!

Words from Teachers

2011-11-22T19:59:00.001-07:00

It’s amazing how far a kind word goes. After struggling with high flying students and getting discouraged overmy lack of success with them, I decided to email the parents of my really goodkiddos. I can think of few things thatmake me feel better than saying nice things about other people. I’m only half way through my list of kiddos,but I’ve received many emails back from parents telling me how much theyappreciate a nice note instead of a nasty gram. One of the parents went as far as to email my principal to tell her howmuch she appreciated my note home! Despite words of affirmation being my love language, I often forget justhow important positive words are to others.

As an educator especially, it is so important for me to be pouring intomy students and encouraging them to grow. Proverbs 15:4 says, “Gentle words are a tree of life; a deceitful tonguecrushes the spirit.” Have I beenspeaking gentle words of encouragement to all of my students? It’s easy to be nice to the kids who alwaysfollow directions, but have I been speaking gentle words to my irksomestudents? I need to find simple ways toencourage my behavior problem kids, not only to keep from crushing theirspirit, but also for my sanity!

I remember back to comments teachers said to me in school. In high school, teachers like Ms. King andMr. Burnett saw something in me past just the frumpy mess, and encouragedme. So much of who I have become is dueto the kind words of teachers. MyEnglish teacher, Ms. King, took a previously homeschooled student who had neverwritten a paper in her life and helped me see that I could be successful. Not only did she express kind words in class,she made an effort to come to my choir concerts and brag to my parents howwonderful I was in and out of class. Mr.Burnett, my drama and stage tech teacher praised me for the bold choices I madein monologues and my willingness to learn in everything lighting and sound. My passion and talent for music was spurned onby all of the choir teachers because they told me I have a talented voice andthey gave me constructive criticism on how to become even better. In college my favorite professors saw talentsand told me what they saw. It’s thesepeople (plus countless others) who took the time to pour words of affirmationinto me that have shaped who I am today. Will I follow in their footsteps with my students? I sure hope so.

Dribble on Worship

2011-11-17T20:12:00.001-07:00

Worship is more than just melodic phrases and passionate riffs—it is alifestyle. When I am cradling my guitarand letting my voice resound, I know I am surrendering my all in worship and Ido not have to think about it. In manyways, music is my love language. It’seasy for me. If worship is a lifestyle,am I experiencing the same reckless abandon in my work and relationships as inmy music? This is the part I strugglewith. Do my words and actions outside mymusic reflect a “reverent devotion and allegiance pledged to God” (NLT StudyBible dictionary)? I wish I could say mylife exudes the characteristics above, but sadly I replace “God” with otherobjectives: money, comfort, entertainment, recognition. If only living a life of worship was as simpleas the music… My focus for the remainderof this semester is to strive for the fulfillment of this idea with God.

Lulu

2011-11-15T18:38:00.001-07:00

TonightI want to tell you about Lulu. Like somany schools, JFK could not subsist without her. Not only is she the MS school secretary, sheis like a second mom to many of the teachers and students in the building. Lulu is a warm, squat, woman in her early 50swith short-cropped hair that she dyes various colors depending on the seasonand her mood; she wears bright clothes with tasteful patterns, and her glasseshave a hint of red around the rims. Shedesires to be an elementary teacher some day but worries she may not. You see, here in Mexico there is a mandatory retirementage of 65 years old. 12 years standbetween Lulu and accomplishing her dream. Her husband does not earn a high enough income for Lulu to attendeducation classes full time without working, and JFK is one of the bestemployment opportunities in the area, so she attends classes a few times aweek, works full time at the school, and volunteers in a classroom onSaturdays. I don’t know how she does itbecause her job at school would be enough to make me retire early. In the midst of constant interruption fromstudents, staff, phone calls, and her boss, she somehow manages to accomplishall of her tasks and still pour into the people around her in Spanish orEnglish. I can spend a whole period justconversing with her about any topic, and I always feel like that was time wellspent. I do not know what the futureholds for Lulu, but I trust God with her and pray she will have a classroom ofher own before time runs out.

Homeless

2011-11-09T17:37:00.001-07:00

It’s amazingwhat a paper-trail can do. Since Tuesdayof last week, I have been without running water in my apartment because thewater company capped the wrong tenant’s pipes. After going through the appropriate channels to no avail, I wrote aformal letter of complaint and emailed it to the General Director of myschool. Within 30 minutes I had a replyfrom her, and miraculously I have water again. No, the water company has not fixed its error, but the maintenance staffat my school managed rig my piping to feed off of a huge water container abovemy building, which they somehow managed to fill.

The peoplehere in Mexico are masters at making things work. Everywhere you look you will find traces ofpatch-jobs and ingenuity that would make even Red Green marvel. Most things here in Mexico are second-hand;just because you have gotten your use out of something doesn’t mean it’sdone. Everything from clothes tovehicles to electronics will see as many lives as a cat is thought topossess.

Now I’vealways been resourceful (just ask my parents), and that has come in handy here. The welcome-crate that contained food to getme started when I first arrived is my clothes basket; empty bottles and plasticcontainers become places to store odds and ends; pillowcases become carryingbags to tote my laundry to the lavandería; a gift bag doubled as a lunch bagfor a while; my plastic tub doubles as a coffee table and storage; the listgoes on. When you have little to workwith, you are forced to problem-solve and invent solutions with what’s readilyavailable. I understand this concept asthis is how I was raised, and in many ways this makes me feel at home. But I don’t think I will ever fully feel athome here.

Part of thatis because Mexico is so far removed from my comfort zone, but the other part isI’ve come to realize (again) that this world is not my home. It’s ok to be uncomfortable because it forcesme to keep going and try new things. I wouldmuch rather be back in Colorado Springs, sharing a meal with a good friend atPanera Bread, or watching TV with my parents because those things areknown. I don’t think I’m meant to livethat kind of life right now. I feel likethe fictional characters that I read about who reach a turning point in their livesin which they can never go back to how things were. There is sadness in that thought, but I amalso encouraged because I feel like there is so much more waiting for me.

I do notknow what my future holds, but I’m excited to see how it unfolds… running wateror not!

I want my mommy!

2011-11-08T16:45:00.003-07:00

Some days are “mommy days”, when all you want to do is be hugged by your mom and told everything will be ok. Unfortunately, the older you get the less those days are accessible, especially when you’re in Mexico and your mommy is in Kenya.

Let me take a moment to tell you about my mommy (and daddy too). My parents have decided, at the ripe age of 60+ (if I told you exact years, my mom might kill me…), to pour out their lives for an orphanage in Kenya. Not only do they devote much of their time and energy gathering money, children’s clothes and other supplies to ship to Kenya, they actually travel to the children’s home to physically love on the kids and staff. They get to witness first-hand the healing and power of God in the lives of 106 kids (and counting—that’s right Duggers family, you ain’t got nothin’ on this “family”!). The joys and heartaches that my parents have experienced with this place would overwhelm many to inaction, yet they continue to give their all to help. Currently, my parents have embarked on a two month endeavor to give the live-in caretakers some time off to visit family and friends back in the US. With the help of another couple, they are in charge of 106 kids and a slough of staff, including food, bookkeeping, and trips to the health clinic with sick kids. There are very few people in this world that would be willing to give up their time and money to help kids half-way around the world, let alone people who should be enjoying a selfish retirement. I am so proud of my parents’ willingness to follow God’s calling in their lives and to endure so many hardships in the process. If you think about it, please pray for them and the children’s home, and if you want to find out more information about what they are doing, check out this website: http://www.rehemainstep.com/

Moses in Mexico?

2011-11-01T07:26:00.004-06:00

This past week I’ve been reading in the book of Exodus. In many ways I identify with the charactersand events, not because I view my life in Mexico like the Israelites’ lives inEgypt, but because I see myself in Moses especially. I find myself wondering what kinds ofblessings eluded Moses because he felt incapable of accomplishing the task Godlaid before him and told God “No”. DidMoses ever regret asking God to send someone else and see that God chose Aaronto be His voice? I also marvel in thefact that God saw something in Moses that He wanted to use and did not letMoses off the hook completely. Aaronwould speak, but Moses was still in charge. If Moses and I were to meet, I think we would have a lot in common. Ever since my emotional breakdown I’ve beenthinking about what I’ve possibly missed out on. What fun has escaped me and whatopportunities to be a conduit of God’s Grace have I missed because of myattitude and telling God “No”? At thesame time I see that God refuses to let me off the hook. I may not be doing all that was envisionedfor me to complete, but God has brought me to Mexico and I’m here until thefirst part of July. Like Moses, I’mtimid and unsure that God has chosen the right person for this task. I have days when I feel like no one listensto me, not my students, not my administration, not my peers. But I think about when God commanded Moses tolead His people out of Egypt, it wasn’t conditional upon how people reacted toMoses. In fact, God hardened Pharaoh’sheart and didn’t allow him to listen to Moses. Right now I feel like God has given me a seemingly insurmountable task—ofwhich I’m not even sure, but I know that I am not responsible for the reactionsand responses of others, only my own. Icannot control all of the obstacles that may cross my path, but I can choosehow I respond to them. Despite my inefficiencies,God has chosen me for this task and I must do the best I can.

Life continues!

2011-10-25T11:43:00.000-06:00

It’s been a while since I’ve posted and I have much to writeabout! Over the past two weeks I haveobtained my working Visa, visited a winery and small market, and startedaccumulating supplies for my Halloween costume.

Last Wednesday I left school with a few other teachers andMaribel from HR to pick up my working Visa. I had heard from other teachers that you have to wait for hours before,but I was just excited not to have to teach my last class of the day. The way the immigration office works here inQueretaro is that they open the doors for a few hours in the late morning/earlyafternoon for people to come line up for service. You’re given a number and then you wait untilthey call you up—similar to the DMV in the States. If you do not show up at the open doorsduring those hours, you miss out and have to come back later. My group arrived around 12:45 and we were thelast group they admitted. To pass thetwo hours until my number was called, I read my Kindle, purposely ignoring thepapers waiting to be graded in my bag. Ifigured if I had to wait then my papers did too :)! In the midst of my reading I was able toconverse with some of the other teachers about school, Spanish lessons, and thebooks we were reading. When my numberwas called, I had the pleasure of working with a very upbeat employee whichsurprised me. I signed a bunch ofpapers, gave my thumbprints, and then had to write my name in their bookbecause for some reason it was not written in there. The guy smiled and told me I didn’texist. I chuckled while mouthing urgentprayers to God that this wouldn’t lead to anything serious. It turned out not to be a big deal, and amoment later I was handed my freshly laminated FM3 card. While I was still enjoying the warmth of mylegality, Maribel told me she had to take it to finish my paperwork andpromised to give it back next week.

Friday after school I went with a couple of girls topurchase fabric for my costume. I’vedecided to dress as a ham hock like Scout in To Kill a Mockingbird. No, Ido not expect many teachers or students to understand my costume, but I willenjoy the literary nature of it! I stillneed to go to Home Depot to get some chicken-wire or something for the internalstructure. I hope it will turn out howI’m envisioning it and not look like a piece of poop…

Saturday morning I met some girls at 10am to drive toTequisquiapan to visit a winery called Freixenet. I’m not a big wine fan, but I wanted tosocialize and see more of Mexico. Whenwe arrived, we split a bottle of sparkling wine and nibbled some of the Spanishcuisine while we waited for the rest of our group to join us. The perfect music match for wine is ofcourse, Jazz. What I found interestingis that the “Jazz” music they played at Freixenet was pop music that was“jazzed” up. Some of the songs were ok,but the Coldplay song was a little much for me. After wine we participated in a tour of thewinery which was all in Spanish. Kerrieoffered to translate, but Melanie and I were having way to much fun creatingout own tour dialogue. Some of the finerpoints included the room for checking the bottles for mice, the percentage ofpeople who made it out of the wine cellars alive, and the proper attire forbeing in a winery. I don’t know abouteveryone else, but I know Melanie and I had a great time! Then we loaded back in the car to head to themarket in Tequis (much easier to say than the whole name of the town). Jenika was really looking forward to thepottery that was supposed to be sold there, but as we were walking in Melanietold her that she was thinking of the market in San Miguel de Allende. Nevertheless, we enjoyed wandering around themarket talking about Don Quixote art. After a little nap, we went to La Encrucijada (the Rock House mentionedin a previous blog) and rocked out until a little after 2am. The rest Sunday I spent sleeping and reading,further ignoring my grading and studying for my Spanish quiz this comingThursday.

The latest on my computer is that the Dell people will beworking on my computer for the next 5-10 business days—I wonder if those areMexican business days… TIM! I amencouraged that my computer is being worked on, but I’m prepared for them notbeing able to fix it. We’ll see whathappens!

Thanks for your prayers and encouraging letters—they arehelping! Keep ‘em coming, and if youthink about it, say a prayer for my folks in Kenya.

Moving Forward

2011-10-17T08:16:00.003-06:00

Ihave finished the book The Dream Giver,and I am left to ponder some choices. You see, I can choose to stop moving forward and focus on myfrustrations and struggles, or I can choose to push forward and discover God’splans for my life. “The bottom line ofevery test in the WasteLand is this: When God seems absent and everything isgoing wrong, will you still trust God enough to patiently allow Him to prepareyou for what’s ahead?” (The Dream Giver). Lately my answer has been no, I don’t trustwhat God is doing (especially now since my laptop is not working). Instead of looking ahead and following God’sleading, I have been facing the direction I came from, wondering why I left inthe first place. I empathize with theIsraelites when they were led into the desert. They didn’t understand what God had waiting for them if only they wouldhave trusted and followed Him sooner. George Mueller once said, “Our heavenly Father never takes anything fromHis children unless He means to give them something better,” but we have tocross a desert sometimes to receive that “something better”. I admit I’m short-sighted; I cannot glimpsenor imagine what God has in-store for me. The question I am facing right now is, how long will I stay in thedesert? I can choose to stay here for along time and wallow in self-pity, or I can choose to trust God and moveforward. One thing I know for certain isthat I DO NOT want to stay where I am. And while I’d like to pin all of my frustrations on my job and being ina foreign country, I know that the real problem resides inside of me. I can’t give up; I have to move forward.

Overestimating

2011-10-14T19:38:00.000-06:00

Estimating is not a gift I possess. Overestimating and underestimating, on theother hand, seem to be my forte. Whetherit’s my appetite at dinner, my judgment of abilities, or my understanding ofsituations, I end up miscalculating somehow. Perhaps this is a result of my indifference for everything mathematical andmy affinity for everything Right-Brained. Regardless of the origin of this insufficiency, it continues to plaguemy life.

For the past month I have been teaching my students aboutfigurative language and poetry. Thesummative assessment was an analysis of a poem we had previously discussed inclass. Students were asked to identifyfigurative language, imagery, mood and tone, to summarize the poem in their ownwords, and to explain briefly the main idea of the poem—all things we’ve beenpracticing in class. On top of that, Ishowed the students yesterday how the final assessment would work and modeledhow to answer the 10 questions. Today Igave the assessment. I learned threethings: 1) My students do not listen to or follow directions, regardless inwhat form they are delivered, 2) Mystudents have no idea how to think on their own or problem solve, and 3) I haveno idea how to teach them. I canhonestly say that today was one of the most frustrating days I’ve had so far atschool. Have I overestimated theirability? Have I overestimated my abilityas a teacher? Listening to the questionsand seeing the frustrated and confused looks from my students almost pushed meover the edge today. There is adisconnect somewhere between what I am teaching and what my students arelearning, and I don’t know how much of it is my inefficiency at teaching thisgroup and how much of it is due to their laissez-faire attitude towardslearning. I understand that subjectcontent is not a priority for most adolescents, but I’ve never struggled sohard for attention in my classroom since my first year of teaching. I’m not saying I’m a bad teacher, but I haveno idea how to teach rich, ESL students who function between a 2nd and 5^thgrade level in English. Neither myeducation classes nor my teaching experiences have prepared me for thisposition—I have underestimated the difficulty of this job. If I wanted to find a job that would completelydestroy my passion for teaching, this is it. And what kills me is that I genuinely like my students and the people Iwork with.

On a completely different note…

About twice a month I make a trek to the grocery store withmy backpack to stock up on food. I amtoo cheap to pay for a taxi to drive me 1.3 km to my house with all of my bags,so I load them in my backpack. Thiscauses many weird looks during my trip. The apartment guards just stare at me and laugh when they see me with myoverstuffed backpack. People in cars andon the street do double-takes to figure out what I’m doing. It’s weird and some work, but I save myself $35(pesos) every time I use my backpack!

Disruption

2011-10-09T09:41:00.005-06:00

Friday I received a package from home with some very importantessentials (I have ranked them in order of most important to least important):Swedish fish, Hershey’s Hugs, winter coat, t-shirt and camisole, lunch bag,Crystal Light packets, inhaler. All ofthese items were crammed in a medium USPS flat-rate box. I was completely blown away with how much mymom shoved in that box! I was alsoamazed that the box arrived intact without any issues! The mail here in Mexico is sketchy at best,and after hearing horror stories about boxes being lost and held by customsagents in Mexico City, I didn’t think the box would ever arrive. I now feel ready to face the week, Winter,and running! Thanks mom!

In the last blog I mentioned that I’m reading the book The Dream Giver: Following Your God-GivenDestiny by Bruce Wilkinson. I’vefinished the parable portion (the first fourth of the book), and instead ofbeing encouraged, I find myself a bit disheartened. The main character, Ordinary, meets manychallenges and struggles in pursuit of his Dream. He eventually comes to the city in which heis to accomplish his Dream. After alittle while, the Dream Giver tells Ordinary that he needs to move on andpursue his dream in a new place. LikeOrdinary, I felt a stirring in my comfortable life in Colorado Springs whichled me to Mexico. And now that I’m here,I just want to be back in the land of the familiar. The thought that as soon as I’m comfortable Iwill have to move again is daunting and unwelcome. Is this what my life is going to belike? Am I destined to live a life ofdiscomfort and constant disruption? Thisis not a happy thought, and one that leads me to ask, “Lord, what are you doingin my life?” Now of course I still of 3/4of the book to go, so maybe I’ll find some encouragement yet, but I’m notholding out for it. My parents’ pastortold me he would be praying that God would disrupt my life while in Mexico, andI can say without hesitation that his prayer is being answered! God is working on my heart and my mind; I amso far outside of my comfort zone that I don’t even know where to look to catcha glimpse of it. In a way I’m prettyexcited, but mostly I’m just terrified.

I’ll let you know how the rest of the book goes.

Beautiful Chrysalis?

2011-10-08T17:16:00.001-06:00

Things rarely turn out the way I plan them. You would think I have learned this lesson bynow, and I would stop obsessing about my own plans. Looking back at my life up until now, I cansee that God has given me what I needed when I needed it. Every amazing blessing has come about throughgiving up a part of myself and my desires to pursue God and where He takesme. Mexico has been nothing like Iimagined it would be, and that’s ok. I’min the midst of being transformed, and if everything was easy and as Iexpected, how would I change?

As November approaches, so does the time of year whenMonarch Butterflies will migrate to parts of southern Mexico. I’ve been doing a little bit of researchabout these creatures, and I have been reminded about how important changeis. In one year, the butterfly lifecycle will begin and end four times, with the last generation living a bitlonger to ensure the survival of the species through the migrationprocess. Each life cycle consists offour parts as well: larvae, caterpillar, chrysalis, and adult butterfly. While this cycle cannot be completelyparallel with the Christian life-cycle, I do see similarities. The larvae and caterpillar stages are allabout eating and taking in the needed energy to allow their bodies to make itthrough metamorphosis in the chrysalis stage. So it is with Christians. We havean infancy stage in which we require information to be fed to us in order towithstand the changes that will come later. Some of us never make it past this stage in our transformation and sonever reach adult butterfly stage. Someof us try to jump ahead to quickly and do now receive enough information tomake it to that last stage either. Currently I view myself in the “chrysalis” phase. God is in the midst of morphing me into thecreation He has in mind for me to be. Many changes are taking place, and honestly, I hate them. Why can’t I just stay a caterpillar forever? It’s a life I know and is comfortable forme. But I believe God calls each of usaway from that comfort zone eventually. I cannot affect real change in my world if I do no leave my comfortzone. God has a beautiful end for me,and in order for me to attain that last stage I have to go through immense painand changes. I hope one day to respondas Heimlich did in A Bug’s Life: “Lookat me! I’m a beautiful butterfly!”—Only Ihope to be more transformed than just a pair of wings jutting out from my back!

By the way, I’m reading TheDream Giver: Following Your God-Given Destiny by Bruce Wilkinson, and ittalks about some of the ideas above using a parable. I find it challenging but also comforting inthe midst of my time here in Mexico.

Saludos!

Jaguar Day

2011-10-01T11:47:00.000-06:00

Jaguar Day: an occasion to present the new basketball jerseysat a “pep-rally”, and then let the kids run free for the next two and a halfhours. The entire campus convened intheir auditorium, from the youngest Kinder students to the oldest Seniorstudents. Expecting an explosion oflights and sounds to engage the students, I was disappointed when the entirepresentation consisted of the flag ceremony and a high school student reading aspeech in both English and Spanish. There was someone running around in a Jaguar costume, and a youngstudent in a little Jaguar costume, but that was the most exciting part of thegathering, and when they had us chant “We are, we are Jaguars, Jaguars” (samebeat as “We Will Rock You”). Afterwards,they ushered all of the students out of the auditorium to go find an activityto visit. From that point forward, itwas a free-for-all. I was supposed tohelp with jump rope, but I decided to be a rogue teacher and start my ownactivity of frisbee. I think it was asuccess, and I only lost one frisbee (which I hope will show up later).

After we kicked the students out at 11:30pm, all of JFKstaff returned to the auditorium for some bonding. A man in unfortunate bright green track pantstold us all (in Spanish of course) about the Jaguar and how it’s a powerfulanimal. Then we played a series of gamesin which I had to follow along blindly because I couldn’t understand much ofwhat this guy said—not just because of my lack of Spanish, but this guy had atype of lisp and did not enunciate well. The first game we wandered around while the guy sang a song and thenwhen he stopped he told us how many people we needed in a group. Left over people had to do a little dancewhile the guy sang. Then we had to passballs around in a circle and whoever had one of them when the guy stoppedsinging had to do the same dance from earlier. After that, everyone was given a hoola-hoop to place on the ground. When the guy sang, we had to “swim” outsideof the hoops (which I guess were supposed to be boats). The first time the music stopped, I totallybiffed it trying to get in a hoop—I don’t know quite what happened, but I didland in the hoop! Each time they tookmore hoops out and we tried to cram as many people in the hoop aspossible. Then we were all givenhandkerchiefs that we stuck in our pockets, and then we had to run around andsteal as many as we could in the time allotted. There were a few more activities, but the last one wasunforgettable. Track-pants man led us insome dances to different songs. The firstsong was about a man who got hit by a train and how he danced—of course we emulatedhis dance—completely inappropriate, but amusing non-the-less. The last dance was an interpretive dance toclassical music. It was fun to be goofywith the staff. The rest of theafternoon was spent in meetings—true excitement!

Was this day a total waste? No, just mostly! :)

Beards, Shirts and Setbacks

2011-09-27T17:19:00.001-06:00

What do you do when you have a group of students that is full of energy but empty of attention? Act crazier than them! Instead of getting frustrated at trying to control behavior, I decided to join in. I gathered my hair underneath my chin, put a hairband around it, and wandered around stroking my newly formed “beard”. The kids thought it was hilarious and actually listened to me the rest of the period!

Size of clothing is another difference here. The school has provided two white polo shirts for teachers. Making the false assumption or being the same size in shirts here in Mexico as I am in the States, I ordered large. Unfortunately, a large is more like a very small medium. I find it terribly difficult to be professional when I look/feel like a hoochy-mama. Showing tummies may be ok for some people, but I like to keep the mystery alive (advice of a dear friend in CO). I think I will have two shirts for my youngest niece after washing…

Today I was walking past the Tienda to meet one of my mentees when my principal called me over and said, “You’re going to kill me”. It turns out she volunteered one of my classes for some kind of story activity. Not only did I lose an entire class period with my lowest class, but the next teacher lost half of her class as well because the story activity ran longer than expected. I also lose another 15 minutes with the same class tomorrow for a presentation from the school orchestra… I could choose to be upset over these setbacks, or I could just say, “TIM” and move on. I choose the latter.

It's Time for Another Good Idea/Bad Idea

2011-09-21T19:53:00.002-06:00

Good idea: driving aggressively in Querétaro.

Bad idea: creating your own lane and then cutting off a bus 10 times bigger than you, clipping the front of the bus, and then driving off because you know it’s your fault.

This morning on our typical jerky bus ride to school, we came to a screeching halt because a car hit our bus in an attempt to pass us in a non-existent lane. The car didn’t even stop but took off like a rocket. The front of the bus was scraped, and the plastic guard around the wheel broke off, but no serious damage.

After experiencing paradise last weekend, the adjustment back to work has been rough. Students no longer feel the need to follow directions, planning time is used for everything but planning, and my bug bites are driving me crazy! Despite these frustrations, the only thing I can control is my attitude. I cannot control student behavior, administrative decisions, or lack of resources, but I can decide how I will respond to these ever-changing elements. I just need reminders to help me remember! My goal for the rest of this week: maintain a positive attitude.

Journey to the Jungle

2011-09-19T20:00:00.000-06:00

So far with this blog I have discussed the diversity of culture and people without focusing on climate or environment. Allow me to change gears (fitting turn of phrase for a country inundated with manual transmissions).

This past three-day-weekend I had the privilege of traveling with four other adventuring souls to a few key destinations in San Luis Potosí: Xilitla (pronounced Hee-leet-la) and Ciudad Valles. Jenika and her boyfriend Fernando organized the trip, and Melanie, Jenna and I jumped on board for the journey of a lifetime! We started the trip with having to switch vehicles because the hood of the car wouldn’t latch shut, but at least we had the option of another car. Jenna being the most petite was seated behind Fernando (who had the seat almost all the way back), Melanie and I switched being squished in the middle, and Jenika was copilot. The road through the Sierra Gorda and Sierra Madre mountains was breathtaking—not only in its beauty but also in its windy roads along steep, unprotected cliffs. Fernando’s driving succeeded in making a few passengers car-sick, but more importantly, his driving enabled us to arrive at our destinations safely!

Our reason for visiting Xilitla was to see Las Pozas, a tribute to surrealist art built by Edward James. Because of our delay in Jalpan over slow “gringo” service and terrible food, we were only able to spend about an hour and a half wandering through peculiar structures, of which we only saw a small portion. While the humidity threatened to drain my body of all liquid, the pure beauty of the structures and the jungle preserved my energy. Never having experienced a jungle before, I was enamored by the lush and dense nature of such an environment. Everything was incredibly thick and heavy, from the air to the foliage. The sheer weight of beauty and mystery was overpowering. After speaking with one of the tour guides, Fernando learned that we still had about a three hour drive to Ciudad Valles, so we crammed back into the car like sardines and sped off into the hills again.

Arriving at our destination, a small campground along the Micos River run by Huaxteca.com (pronounced Was-teca), we found quaint huts with beds and electricity, and dinner waiting for us. There was even a bonfire after dinner complete with pop music and marshmallows! It was difficult to sleep that first night because of the humidity, but the sound of the river lulled me to sleep. The next morning we loaded onto a bus to go raft the Tampaon River—a majestic turquoise river through the lush jungle. Our rafting guide explained the safety rules for rafting and then told us we were going to practice being flipped out of the raft. Immediately my mind started racing and telling me that the whole point of rafting was to stay IN the raft. My experiences with rafting have been in freezing snow-melt rivers—staying out of the water is a good thing! But the water of the Tampaon River is warm. In fact, I spent more time outside of the raft floating down the river than inside the raft paddling. There were only a few rapids and nothing over class II along the 15 kilometer river. Whenever there weren’t rapids, I took to swimming, climbing up rocks, and jumping into the warm water—it was glorious! Two-thirds through the trip we had to get out of the raft to traverse over some rocks and then splash down (literally because we had to jump off a 15ft cliff to get to the other side) to the other side. They gave us a granola bar and some ice tea and then we were back in the boat headed down river. At the end of the trip, they fed us a large comida (big meal usually eaten around 3pm) of traditional Huaxtecan food, which was delicious! Most of us napped on the 1.5 hour bus ride back to camp. Around 7pm that evening we drove into Ciudad Valles in search for some food because we couldn’t wait until the meal at 9pm at the campground. I ate some delicious empanadas with a coke. Upon returning to camp, we all headed to bed, exhausted from a day of rafting, swimming, and relaxing. The next morning we packed up the car and met our guide for our trip to one of the fourth largest waterfalls in Latin America. After driving about 40 minutes, we were given the option of walking down to the river or riding in the back of a sketchy pick-up truck—we chose the latter. None of us realized that we would have to paddle a long wooden boat up stream about 5 kilometers to see the water fall. It was a lot of work, and we had to get out and walk while our tour guide and river guide pulled the boat along the shore through rapids we weren’t strong enough to paddle through. We stopped at a large rock in front of the waterfall to take some pictures. Afterwards, we paddled a bit down-stream and then our guide reminded us of the “river position” and told us to get out of the boat and float through the rapids. This experience was both terrifying and exhilarating! After two rapids we swam to shore and walked a ways to a pool in a cave, complete with flitting bats. The cool water was sweet relief after paddling so hard in the humid heat. We had a snack there too and then headed back to our starting point where we changed and ate another fabulous Huaxtecan meal. Satiated for the moment, we crammed back into the car and headed towards Queretaro. On the way we encountered a closed road with no detour signs, but Fernando managed to get us on the right road.

Despite the length of this entry, I feel I have failed to describe the incredible nature of this trip. Many random and funny incidents have been left out (probably to relief of my fellow travelers!), and I am not able to communicate all of the emotions and thoughts that swarmed my being this weekend. I am overwhelmed by the enormity, splendor, and beauty of the God of the Universe and that He chose to lavish His love and blessings on me through this trip. Plus I got to know some pretty awesome people! I’m counting down until the next long weekend… now if I can just endure this whole working thing… :)

Sushi, Fortunes, and Adventure

2011-09-14T20:58:00.000-06:00

God answered your prayers in giving me a better day today. My lesson went well today, I met with two of my mentees, Sarah and I planned Ultimate Frisbee teams for tomorrow, I finally got a pair of JFK pants to wear during my Optativa, I received an encouraging letter in the mail, and I was able to spend some quality time with a new friend. Funny how little things thrill me!

Sarah took me to her favorite sushi bar after school and introduced me to the dish she orders every time: beef and cream cheese rolled in seaweed and rice and dipped in chipotle mayonnaise. I really enjoyed to food, but even more-so the conversation. Quality time is one of my primary love languages—it’s how I feel loved, and it was nice of Sarah to take time out of her hectic schedule to love me in this way. We talked about family, friends, and work. I am not alone in my frustrations with students or the administration, which is comforting.

After returning home, I opened the fortune cookie that came with the meal and found the following message: “You should be able to undertake and complete anything”. Thanks to my dear friend Stephanie, I am unable to read a fortune without adding the slightly inappropriate tag ending… But for this particular message, I decided to add my own tag ending of “in Christ”. I know I can’t undertake or complete anything on my own, but as Paul mentioned in Philippians 4:13, “I can do all things because Christ gives me the strength.” And I think I am beginning to grasp the concept of being happy with whatever I have. I have a long way to go before I master it, but I have to start somewhere. Thank you for your prayers in this area, and in the area of school as well!

Tomorrow is Mexico’s Independence Day (El Grito), and I have the pleasure of joining a group of people in San Miguel de Allende to celebrate. After that, I’m headed for a weekend of white water rafting, waterfalls, jungle, and relaxation. I’ll let you all know the outcome of this adventure upon my return!

Drenched Trust

2011-09-13T19:49:00.000-06:00

While I pride myself in my use of vocabulary and eloquence of writing, there is no other way to say this: being a girl sucks sometimes. I am fully cognizant that women were/are made in the image of God, but did we have to get all of His emotions? In the midst of blurred vision and blubbering sobs, my mind traverses a tricky course full of dark allies and ridiculous detours. In the past hour I have raised many questions to God and received one answer: “All that has been in my life up to now/ It belongs to You/ You are still holy.”

Kim Hill’s song, “You Are Still Holy” continues to break down my preconceived notions of life. Life is not about me or my abilities (or lack-there-of). My triumphs, my fiascoes, and everything in between belong to God. The weight of the world does not rest in my incapable and unqualified hands, no matter how much I feel like it does. God is bigger than my failed lesson plans, bigger than my raging hormones, and bigger than my out-of-control acne.

The specific cause(s) of this most recent explosion of emotion can be traced to three stimuli: 1) epic lesson plan failure, 2) being a woman, and 3) lack of time with God. Reliving the failed lesson plan may bring about nightmares, being a woman is explanatory enough (especially for my male audience members), but I’ll elaborate upon the third stimulus. By the time I return home, I’m done for the day except to check FB, email, and stream Alias (I’m on episode 8 of season 4…). Mornings and I do not get along, and all of my “planning time” at school dissipates without my realization of where it goes (my speculation is that it somehow correlates with the water cycle and returns to the sky, but I digress). So when I do I find time to meet with God? I usually don’t. The days I do find time to read my Bible I find it difficult to focus or there is some kind of catastrophe later in the day that negates any lesson learned from the reading. My conversations with others about God and/or what I’m learning are non-existent. This is a huge area of concern and one for which I desperately need prayer. As strong a person as people perceive me to be, I am incapable of handling everything on my own, let alone the plethora of changes around which my mind is currently trying to wrap itself.

In the midst of my many questions and self-doubt, I cling to the fact that God has brought me this far; if He wanted to get rid of me I think he would have done it a long time ago and saved Himself much trouble. The good, the bad, and the ugly (of which I am currently occupying the latter) belong to God, and I trust His plan. My trust is just sometimes drenched in tears.

Work and Play

2011-09-10T13:32:00.001-06:00

Since nothing bad has happened recently, there hasn’t been much fodder for my blog! But I’ll recap the last few days and emotions in the most exciting capacity possible.

The honeymoon is over and the students’ true personalities, as well as the teachers’, have surfaced. There is a lull that accompanies this break-through every year; a void in which equilibrium must be achieved in order to find a routine to establish the course for the rest of the year. After spending last year teaching 8th grade, I find that I must take a step back to remember that 6th graders do not listen or follow directions well. This has caused a division and frustration in the classroom. About 75% of my students are capable of following directions the first time. The other 25% either choose not to listen or have absolutely no idea what I asked them to do. Some may argue that this is the case with any grade level, but I believe the percentages are slightly different the older students get. In moments of utter frustration, I forget that it is my job to teach students how to listen and follow direction. My subject matter is important, but in 6th grade it’s more important for me to teach my students how to be learners and how to make the most of their education.

On class in particular, just like every year, is more challenging than the rest. After reviewing papers and test scores, my suspicions were confirmed: my C class contains some of my lowest scoring students. Either because of language acquisition or cognitive development issues, this group of students has a difficult time learning. Earlier this week I had to remind this class, in a firm voice, that their habit of talking while the teacher talks is totally unacceptable, and I had to have them practice coming into class and getting started on the warm-up twice before they got it. Yet apart from the irksome nature of this class, the students are precious. I just need to remember and hold onto that that! I also need to make more time to stay at school to accomplish all the planning and grading I can’t seem to accomplish during my planning periods…

The remainder of that week wasn’t too terribly exciting apart from playing soccer and tetherball with some of my students. I did get to meet with two of my mentees; I’m looking forward to getting to know them better throughout this year. Since I have 12 students, I hope to meet with each one once a month just to check in and see how life is going.

Last night I hung out at La Encrucijada Rock House with some other teachers from school. Before that, some of us gathered at Sarah’s house (she lives within walking distance of the bar) and visited for about an hour before walking to the bar at 10pm. This bar is kind of two in one. There is a front section and a back section (separated by a little courtyard) and both have live bands. My group of friends was in the front, and I was really impressed with the band which started playing at 11pm. They played rock music both current and past, and it was fun to sing along. Everything they sang was in English, but then when they talked it was in Spanish—it was kind of bizarre. The female vocalist in particular had a great voice. At about 2:30am Danielle said she was going home and offered to take Jo and I home. I can’t remember the last time I stayed out that late without almost falling asleep! I had so much fun and am definitely interested in going back!

What's in a Name?

2011-09-05T17:44:00.002-06:00

Names carry significance to a person’s identity, even more so in Mexico. Not only are both parents represented in a person’s last names, but a nickname implies great meaning as well. People look for a way to shorten your name or give you a nickname. Take Kari for example: most people here have taken to calling me Kar. I don’t have a problem with this, but no one outside of my family has ever called me that in the States, not even close friends. Mau is short for Mauricio (which makes me think of China every time I say it), Pato for Patricio, Dani for Daniela, Gabo for Gabriel, Nat for Nathalia—if there’s a way to shorten or combine names, Mexican people figure it out. Some nicknames are reserved for close relationships only, which is not that different from the States. I don’t reveal my family nickname of Karbear to just anyone. Because of the difference in names here in Mexico, I am fascinated with them. I love being able to call my students by their nicknames; I feel as if I’m being let into an inner-sanctum. I’m also embracing being called by my first name because of the same reason. In the United States, it’s a sign of disrespect to be called by one’s first name in the teaching field, but that is not the case here in Mexico. First names, nicknames, open a door to relationship and familiarity—the soul of this country.

Today I met my mentees for the year (minus two who were absent). I have two 6th grade girls, one 7th grade girl, four 8th grade girls, and four 8th grade boys. We played a series of icebreaker/team building games to get to know each other—of course the 8th graders were too cool to fully engage. I’m looking forward to meeting with each student individually, to break them away from the mob mentality. I hope to be able to meet with each of the 11 students at least twice a bimester, but I’ll have to see how things work out schedule-wise.

I also started Spanish lessons today after school. Our instructor is the SWAS (School within a School) instructor for Spanish—kids who don’t know any Spanish see her to learn. This afternoon she was learning where each of us were in our knowledge of Spanish, and I was able to get a sheet of paper that shows how to conjugate verbs in the past tense. I’m feeling more confident in the knowledge I have already and what I will be able to learn with this class. DEBTET!

Life's a lot like that...

2011-09-02T18:58:00.003-06:00

Today I had a "Life's a lot like that" moment. Those of you party to the old days of ACBC when my father led Prayer and Share time know what I'm referring to; for the rest of you, you'll understand after I explain.

I love Willow Tree figurines--I love how each figure expresses such clear emotion without facial features. Some of you may be creeped-out by this design feature, but I adore the statuettes. One of my favorites is titled "Happiness" and portrays a girl with shoulder-length wavy hair, face pointed towards the sky, and outstretched arms on which three little blue birds perch. This girl displays such freedom and wreckless abandon in such a simple gesture. Unfortunately, I have witnessed this figure break three times; twice as a result of my previous (and dearly loved) cat, Gabby and her affinity for watching things fall, and this last time as a result of moving my desk for internet installation. As I was gluing the hand back on for the third time, I thought, "Life's a lot like that." Despite the number of times this figure has been broken, her face and gester remains the same (minus a hand or arm), and when the pieces are all glued back together, that same expression of happiness shows through the cracks. I empathize with this figurine, especially these past few weeks. Every week something has gone wrong: no electicity, no running water, no internet, no working phone, Montezuma's Revenge, punctured foot, no frisbees for my Optativa, and now a head cold. Yet in the midst of all these trials and frustrations, so I still exude the same happiness as I did before for brokenness? It hasn't always been pretty, but God continues to fit the broken pieces back together, and I continue to try and project the same stance as my beloved Willow Tree girl, only with a few more cracks than last time. My AP, Danielle mentioned how I have maintained a positive attitude despite all of the junk and bad luck that's been thrown at me.

I hope and pray that this positive attitude will remain whatever may come my way.

No Bus

2011-09-01T18:24:00.000-06:00

Wednesday morning I limped the two blocks to where the bus picks us up every morning. The bus normally comes about 10 minutes earlier than its scheduled time, but it was 6:50am (scheduled for pick-up at 6:55am) and the bus wasn’t there. Shortly after, Maia received a call from Luke (who gets picked up before us) stating that the bus wasn’t coming and we’d have to take a taxi. Apparently one of the staff members who rides the bus is very good friends with the driver who called to tell him he couldn’t drive the bus that morning. That guy in turn asked Luke if he needed a ride, and then Luke fed that information to a few other teachers. Embracing the “TIM” philosophy (This Is Mexico), I just laughed and started looking for a taxi to flag down. The group I was with was too big to take just one, so we found two taxis after a bit of walking and made it to school 10 minutes earlier than normal. The school was kind enough to reimburse us for the fare, so all turned out well in the end.

This morning I awoke with a slight sore throat and stuffy nose—first cold of the school year! I was hoping I was immune since I’ve been working in the school system for five years, but apparently not… I hope to make it to the store tomorrow to purchase some cold meds, but until then I’m pretty snotty. Some good news is that my foot is doing better. It’s scabbed over and doesn’t appear to be infected—YAY! Also, today was the start of Optativas (electives) and I got another teacher to join me in overseeing Ultimate Frisbee (no one signed up for her class L). Unfortunately the frisbees have not arrived, so all we could do was tell them the rules and where we will be playing every Thursday—not very exciting for the kids. Our area for frisbee is the sand volleyball court…sounds like a great playing area, huh? There are four polls that run the length of the field in the middle, and there is only enough room for one game to be played at a time. I have 30 kids for this activity, enough for four teams, so Sarah and I are going to have to be creative in what we do with the two teams that can’t play a match. We’ll figure out something, but kind of frustrating. At least I do not have to wrangle 30 kids on my own!

After school today a bunch of us went to Costco. Differences between Mexican Costco and US Costco: Here, they don’t really care if you have a card to get in the store or not; when checking out, they don’t care if the card belongs to you or not—you can just pass it down the line and it doesn’t matter how you pay for your purchases; when buying a hot dog and drink (which is outside the store), you have to show them your card; when leaving the store, they look at your receipt and purchases very closely, examining your cart to make sure you aren’t trying to sneak out other items. Anyways, I purchased a 2-pack of pillows, and I’m stoked to use them tonight! The pillows the school provided were ok for a little while, but they are virtually flat now and do not stay in the pillow cases. Costco is also the only store I’ve found so far that has a different kind of bread other than Bimbo brand (very similar to Wonder Bread), so I treated myself to two loaves. Cheese, salt and pepper pistachios, and precooked/sliced chicken completed my purchase.

My motto remains TIM, and somehow that makes all of the inexplicable occurrences more humorous!

Blood and Internet

2011-08-29T15:46:00.000-06:00

My streak of bad luck continued this morning when I was running for the bus. I was just approaching the bus when I stepped on a piece of gnarly plastic that punctured the sole of my sandal (which doesn’t take much) and embedded itself into my foot. Yes, I’m sure it was plastic and not a piece of rusted metal, and yes, I’m up to date with my tetanus shot. When I discovered I was bleeding on the bus, I took out the only absorbent item I had, a panty liner, ripped it in half, and put it in my sandal catch the blood. Once at school I rinsed the laceration with bottled water and put the other half of the panty liner in my sandal. I cleaned it out again once I arrived home and put some antibacterial cream and an actual band aid over the cut. If it’s not looking and feeling better in a day or two I’ll go see the nurse at school.

HOWEVER, the guys from Cablecom actually came to install my Internet when they were scheduled to appear! I almost forgot I was in Mexico! They were the same guys who installed the internet in two of the other teacher’s places in my apartment complex. One of them spoke a little bit of English—probably about the same amount of Spanish as I can speak, so we talked a little bit about Querétaro, where I was from, how old we were, weather—typical HS Spanish topics. So I’m currently enjoying video steaming with consistent Internet and I’m excited to actually Skype with video too! DEBTET!

Hunting for a Church

2011-08-28T17:58:00.001-06:00

This morning I attended Unidad Cristiana—affiliated with CFN Fellowship of Ministries and Churches. I heard there was a church across the street from Walmart (about a 10 minute walk from my apartment) from Maribel, the Human Resources gal, but I didn’t get up the nerve to wander over there until this morning. My friend Valeria sent me an email with information on the church because she knew I was looking for a Christian church. Because I wanted to sleep in this morning, I decided to go to the 11:30am service over the 8am. Being the punctual person I am, I showed up 10 minutes before the service started (note to self: TIM so I don’t need to be early anywhere outside of school). I was immediately greeted at the front entrance by a nice lady who (I think) asked if it was my first time here; I told her I didn’t speak much Spanish, and she said welcome and waved me toward the main room with the stage and chairs. The main room seats upwards of 800 people (my best guess) including the small balcony above where I sat. The room was pretty bare, but by 11:50, the place was packed.

I didn’t understand most of what the worship leader said, but I was able to decipher much of the songs that we sang. One of the songs was “Lord I Give You My Heart” in Spanish, so I was able to sing along in English and then follow along in Spanish. I truly believe that the Holy Spirit is able to communicate our hearts to God, even if it’s in a language we don’t know. While I didn’t comprehend all of the words I was singing, I understood that I was singing praise to God, and that’s all that matters. What a joy to be able to worship my Father in a different language, in a different part of the world. God is alive in Mexico!

The sermon was even more difficult to understand. All I was able to glean from the hour long message was that our relationship with God can be hindered by our heart and that we need to examine our hearts. I’m sure there was more than that, but that’s all my limited knowledge of Spanish could pick up today. I don’t do well sitting for that long either—I wasn’t expecting a 2 hour service. What helped me get through the service was knowing I had nothing else really important happening today, and that it was a blessing to be with others who love Jesus.

I don’t know if this will become my home church while I’m here in Querétaro, but God has led me here for now, and it’s only a 10 minute walk from my apartment. Dios es bueno todo el tiempo! (That’s the Spanish translation for Carla’s GIGATT!) And thanks for the recommendation, Val!

It's all about the Students

2011-08-27T08:45:00.002-06:00

Students are the reason I teach. All the planning, all the meetings, all the difficulties in this profession seem to wane once the kids show up.

I have 104 rambunctious, polite, and eager students that I get to see every day for 45 minutes each class. I teach four classes of 26 students each, and that time just flies by! Being used to 90 minute block classes where I see the students every other day, this change in time requires some calibration in my teaching strategies, but I think I like it. Every day my schedule is different. These students have 11 classes in their schedule; some they see every day, some they see a few times a week. They receive instruction in English for Science, Social Studies, Language Arts/English, and Music. They receive instruction in Spanish for History of Mexico, Civics, Geography, Math, Spanish, PE, and Art. I don’t know how the students keep track of their schedules, but they do! In addition to the 11 classes, students also have an Optitiva (Elective) the last period of the day on Thursdays. I get to teach the kids how to play Ultimate Frisbee for my Optitiva. Originally, the principal wanted me to run a book club, but when she heard I knew how to play Ultimate, she told me I could do that and they’d just get rid of the book club. SCORE!

Like all 6th graders, one of the biggest difficulties so far has been opening lockers. Despite being given directions in Spanish and English, being shown multiple times, and being given visual aids, some students still cannot open their lockers. But this is one of the many reasons I love 6th graders. At the beginning of the year, I always wonder if these kids will ever be successful. Everything is a struggle, and they seem so young and incapable of accomplishing everything I set before them, but they eventually figure it out. I think that 6th graders show the most growth in middle school in terms of social/emotional growth. Given enough scaffolding, these kids become more independent and capable of success on their own.

Female teachers go by their first names here, so I am “Miss Kari”. This isn’t a sign of disrespect, it’s just how teachers are addressed here. Every once in a while I refer to myself as Ms. Kiser—that’s who I’ve been for the past five years. It will take a while for me to adjust. I will say it’s pretty darn cute when the kids say my name though. Because of Spanish pronunciation, my name sounds like “Mees Car-ee”, or sometimes they call me “Tea-chair” if they have forgotten my name. Out in the halls, students greet me all the time. Some have already taken to giving me hugs—another adjustment I’m going to have to make, it’s ok to hug the kids. It’s going to take me a while to get all of their names, yet I have all the American/Canadian kids’ names memorized. I suppose it helps that there’s only three of them in all of 6th grade…

I’m excited to see how this year is going to progress. I definitely still need your prayers and encouragements, and because of those I’m feeling better about my time here. Thank you!

Bare Necessities

2011-08-24T20:24:00.000-06:00

Absence makes the heart grow fonder. Thomas Haynes Bayly may have made this phrase popular, but I associate a different meaning to this old cliché than distant relationships with people. I’m referring to the simple bare necessities of life such as running water, a healthy stomach, and unlocking doors. Now that these things have resumed their normal positions in my life, I can merrily sing along with Baloo.

One of the neat things about my new school is that every student has a mentor teacher for the year (hopefully all three years if the teacher stays). I will have 13 kids that I get to meet with outside of class to get to know on a deeper level. Some teachers may look at this as another task to complete, but I look at this as an opportunity to invest in students’ lives beyond just my subject area.

We had a training session for being a mentor, and we got to role-play with puppets! The puppet I chose was a dog/ferret type creature and the problem I drew (I was the mentee) was that I liked a boy but didn’t know how to talk to him. My “mentor” (Valeria) chose a witch puppet and her problem was that she liked to hug and hang on the mentee (which in moderation is perfectly good here). The fact that Val’s puppet was a witch was that much more disturbing! It was hilarious!

Classes start tomorrow and I get to meet my kids. From my limited encounters with them earlier this week, I’m really looking forward to getting to know these students.

And I'm Locked Out

2011-08-22T22:09:00.002-06:00

So it turns out someone in my complex turned my water off. I don’t know if the water bill is all connected or what, but my theory is that someone thought I was flushing the water too much and decided to turn it off to save him/herself some money. I’m sorry that my case of Montezuma’s Revenge inconvenienced your water bill, whoever you are...

Water problem fixed. Getting into my apartment to use the water, problem. My top lock doesn’t work from the outside, which hasn’t caused me any problems because I can’t lock it from the outside. Somehow the maintenance guy who came to fix my water managed to LOCK THE DOOR FROM THE OUTSIDE!!! I tried calling all of the numbers I was told to call in case of a problem and no one answered. Jo emailed a few people hoping they would check their email and call me. Finally I got a text and a call telling me that the maintenance guy would be back to fix the lock. He ended up going to my next door neighbors' and crawling onto their roof and over to my patio and unlocked the door from the inside. He then proceeded to take the lock apart, mess with it a bit, and then put it back together in the door—this took him 20 minutes and didn’t change a thing. Then he explained to me in Spanish that the lock only worked from the inside of the door. Really?! I could have told him that (well, not in Spanish)!!!

Trying to focus on the positive, at least my cell phone was working so that I could call the half a dozen people I did tonight. My dad has an acronym that he uses to explain the happenings in Africa; I’m going to steal it and change it to TIM—This is Mexico.

I hope that I’ll be able to laugh about this later to make up for all the crying I’m doing now…

Fútbol, Heartaches, and Agua

2011-08-22T10:19:00.006-06:00

Saturday afternoon I attended my first live fútbol game. Man, do these people love the game or what?! Outside of the stadium people scurried around, trying to buy tickets from the booth or from anyone who had extras. Just before entering the stadium I found several booths lined up selling Gallos’ (Querétaro’s team) jerseys. I had to pass through three security checkpoints just to get into the stadium. Once there, I joined the other international teachers in the fenced in Gallos section—cheers and songs rooting the team on welcomed me to my seat. The group I was with sat in the section framed in by fencing and barbed wire. Polícia surrounded the field, in complete combat gear with shield. I didn’t have to ask anyone why—Mexico is famous for its fan fights. I enjoyed the atmosphere, and the cheers. Val, a National teacher at my school, explained that one of the cheers was “Roosters with balls”; everyone in our section who knew the cheer was singing it, even the little kids. Whenever the crowd was upset, they would throw their 32 oz cups of beer into the rest of the crowd—I only got a little sprinkle at the end of the game. Gallos ended up losing 1-2. Over-zealous fans combined with cheap alcohol did not end well. After the game, a few fights broke out in the stadium, but the worst of it was outside. We ended up running for our car because the Polícia and some drunk teenagers were throwing rocks at each. One of the teachers who wasn’t with my immediate group took video footage and posted it online: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4oWeWAFaW6o

After the game we went to Sarah’s apartment (same girl who gave me the pills), then to another girl’s place to have a drink before going downtown for dinner. My drink was a coca-cola. We wandered around down town, and again I was struck by the two extremes in Querétaro: poor vs. rich. The streets are lined with beggars and cripples, especially outside of the churches, and people pass by them without even a second thought, bent on spending their money on food, drink, and entertainment. Even sitting down at an outdoor restaurant, children come by trying to sell little trinkets, or beg for money for their blind mother. My heart breaks for these people, and I know that giving them money will not fix their problems. All I can do is pray for them as I pass by. I’m sure I will get more used to this contrast, but I hope that I don’t become desensitized.

This morning I managed to drop my clothes off at a Lavandería, or Laundromat where they wash and dry it for you, procure a 20L garrafón of water and haul it back to my apartment. The ladies at the lavandería were nice and told me I could pick up my clothes after 7pm tonight or tomorrow any time after 8pm. I told them tomorrow, they gave me a receipt stating it would be $59 pesos for about 5 kilos (about $4.75 US for about 11lbs); I thanked them and went to see about water. The old gentleman at the little shop was very nice and patient with my limited Spanish. I said, “Hablo un poquito español” (I speak a little Spanish), and he replied, with a big smile, “Perfecto!” I was able to tell him I wanted water but I didn’t have a jug to trade. He told me I would have to pay $77 pesos ($22 pesos for the full jug of water and then I had to pay for an empty one since I didn’t have one to trade, which was $35). The shop was only about two blocks from my apartment, so it wasn’t too difficult.

This evening I get to meet my 6^th graders and help with team-building activities, opening lockers, and building Sundays! I’ll let you know how that turns out!

As always, thank you for your prayers and encouragements—they mean a lot to me!

Got Water?

2011-08-21T10:10:00.001-06:00

(*Disclaimer: I still intend to inform you all of my harrowing experience of transporting 20L of water back to my apartment, but due to the development of TD (Traveler’s Diarrhea) this past week, I have not yet attempted this feat.)

My “Word of the Day” app on iGoogle details “odoriferous” as today’s word. Is this a coincidence???

I’ve gotten into the habit of showering every other day for water conservation and because I’m lazy. So Thursday was my shower day, and Saturday was going to be next. I spent Saturday morning resting and reading one of the books I’m going to be teaching, oh and running to the bathroom every so often with a case of TD. Once I finished the book I went to take a shower; turning the knobs produced nothing but some strange noises in the wall. I tried flushing the toilet and running the faucets in the other two sinks, but nothing. I texted the person I’m supposed to contact about such things, but it is now Sunday morning, my apartment smells like urine and fecal matter, and I still have not heard back from her. One of the other female teachers who lives in my apartment complex, Jo, graciously offered the use of her shower this morning. But while I am now clean, my apartment is still odoriferous. The combination of no running water and TD is NOT an ideal one. And trying to manually flush my toilet did not result in the end effect I would have wished… I ended up using most of my remaining drinking water and only managed to wash half of the contents down the hole…

On a brighter note, Sarah (teaching 6^th grade Science at JFK and one year veteran of the school) gave me some pills last night to help with my inner plumbing, and I’m feeling great today! AND the bank card the school set up is finally working!

While I may not feel like I can handle all of the difficulties that have been thrown my way, God has been gracious in only giving me a few problems at a time. Do I still freak out and cry? Yes. But I know that I am not alone in this adventure, and all these minor discomforts make for great anecdotes for others to enjoy!

Spanish, Fire, and EXTREME POWERPOINT!!!

2011-08-17T20:33:00.000-06:00

Alabado sea Dios! Today was a much better day! I started the day in Philippians 4 where it talks about being full of joy and not worrying about things but praying about everything. It’s not really about what happens during the day but my attitude and reaction. By starting my day in the Word and placing my focus on God, I was able to see clearly His mini miracles. My cell phone works now! I don’t know why it decided to let me call out, but I can. I only have four 50 minute classes and three 50 minute free periods a day (except Thursday when I get to play/teach Ultimate Frisbee for “optitivas” or electives), whereas some teachers only have one or two free periods a couple times a week. Some of the international teachers live further away from shopping centers than I do. I am really quite blessed with my location, what I’m teaching, and how God has provided thus far.

And because I was in a better mood, I found today’s training especially amusing… Claudio (the head of safety in the MS) put together a PowerPoint presentation for the Fire Extinguisher training today. He was not actually giving the presentation—another guy was. To paint a portrait with words of Claudio, think of the SNL “Two Wild and Crazy Guys” skit—slicked back hair, starched shirt, fashionable pants (yesterday they were very shiny), and he thinks he’s all that—I hope you get the picture. So this PowerPoint, just like all his others, is an EXTREME POWERPOINT (just for you, Mary!). All of the words are animated, all of the pictures are animated, all of the arrows pointing to the pictures are animated, and the best part is that the slides didn’t really amalgamate with what the other guy was talking about (from what I could understand!). They did have a translator today, but she kind of forgot to translate what the presenter was saying. My perception is that the translator knew what the guy was saying so she just assumed the rest of us non-Spanish-speaking people did too. People would ask questions in Spanish, and the translator would just stand there looking at the presenter (I couldn’t blame her though; the guy was cute). Anyways, back to Claudio: he would put the next slide up on the screen and then he would walk around with his cell phone and take pictures of us audience members. He had to have taken at least 25 pictures, and I think many of them were of his animated PowerPoint slide! That’s not even the best part. After 1.5 hours of that, they herded us outside to the blacktop area where they had a bunch of dry powder extinguishers and a metal trough. They then put wood in the trough, drenched it in gasoline and lit it. Two staff members at a time were to rush up and put the fire out using the extinguishers. Then the presenter guy lit a match, through it in the trough, and threw on it to get it going again for the next batch. Two thoughts entered my mind during this fire and powder frenzy: “These guys should be using diesel, not gas” and “This would NEVER be allowed in the US!” During this fire act, I relinquished my extinguisher to another International teacher who really wanted to put a fire out (maybe relates back to that whole boys-want-to-be-firemen-when-they-grow-up thing) and retreated to my room for a bit more planning before the end of the day.

Stay tuned for my next blog about my harrowing adventures of hauling a 5 gallon jug of water to my apartment from the corner OXXO store!

Culture Overload

2011-08-16T15:34:00.000-06:00

Sitting in meetings presented entirely in another language with little translation makes you think about interesting things. Well, maybe not you, but me. And because I don’t want you to miss out on my thought patterns, here’s an example: I’m glad I’m not having the bug problems that others are having…la cucaracha, la cucaracha—cockroaches are gross!...This two hour presentation could have been done in 15 minutes tops… What does entonces mean again?...

Coming from a culture that values time, I’m finding it difficult adjusting to a culture that values relationships. It’s not that I do not value relationships—one of my primary love languages is quality time—it’s that I’m feeling like I’m not being efficient enough. If I give up a little bit of time in one place, I have to give up that time somewhere else. Yet in this culture, time doesn’t reign supreme. Yes, I need to be to work on time and retain that professional quality (unless the school provided bus is late…), but if my meeting runs long at the end of the day, I’m not going to miss my bus because 2:45pm could mean 3:05pm or later. If the meeting is supposed to last one hour it probably will go over, but whatever I have to do will be there later. Procrastination is the name of the game here in Mexico, but not necessarily in a bad way—it’s just the way it is. Now whether my punctuality results from time oriented parents, working at a school, or is just some wacked out trait I picked up on my own, the consequences are the same: time oriented person + people oriented culture ≠ a happy ending. One of the two elements has to change; any guesses as to which one it will be?

At this point in time, I think I’ve reached culture overload. Not only culture as in a different country, but ever sense of the word. New school. New boss. New standards. New curriculum. New apartment. New people. New language. New stores. New food. Those of you who know me even a little know that I DO NOT deal well with change. And as much as I’d like to convince you (and me) that I had no preconceived notions of what this move and job were going to be like, the overwhelming truth shows otherwise. Disappointment is the key indicator. I’m disappointed in my job, how I’m interacting with others (or lack-there-of in some instances), and how slowly I’m adapting and picking up the language. While I realize that culture shock is part of every move I’ve ever made, I guess I thought it would get easier. Some of you may be saying to yourselves, “How could you expect moving to another country would be easier?” Great question! The world of denial causes many types of people, especially Kisers, to do untold of, crazy and stupid things. Personally, I blame my parents for a defective reasoning gene, but that’s a whole other blog entirely… :)

Have no fear! This diatribe of disappointment is not an indicator of quitting. As long as I’m not in any physical/emotional danger, I’m not leaving—I signed a one year contract and I’m going to see it through. Plus I know that this is only the beginning. Eight days is not enough to determine the outcome of an entire school year, especially since I have yet to meet my students. But while I may be a stubborn person, it’s going to take much more than that to make this year a success. I deeply request and covet your prayers, especially for these next few weeks. Specifically for the following:

· Boldness and confidence in and outside the classroom

· Becoming more relationship oriented

· Interactions with my peers that still allow me to be a shining star and follow Philippians 2:12-18—this is difficult because my interests are vastly different than those of the majority of my international colleagues.

· Time with God and finding a church

Oh, and notes of encouragement are always good too!

Life in Queretaro

2011-08-14T09:56:00.001-06:00

WARNING: this entry will be a bit long, so you may want to prepare yourself for boredom or plan breaks at several intervals.

Since arriving in Querétaro six days ago, much has happened. I have not had much time to process and decompress until today. My mind has been a sponge, absorbing massive amounts of information in a short time. It is difficult to describe what I’m experiencing, but I’ll attempt to do so with this entry.

Querétaro is a growing city. Most of the people I’ve met are not from here but have been here for many years. The vast majority is from Mexico City, but others are from Sonora and other boarder states and towns.

This city is a conglomeration of old and new. Old churches fill the skyline downtown; new malls are scattered around the periphery of downtown. Small homes and stores intermingle along streets; larger businesses and condominiums push the city’s boundaries. Compared to other places in Mexico, this city is very clean and safe. The police officers, for the most part, are not looking for bribes, streets and buildings are swept/mopped/power-washed regularly. Markets are clean and mostly organized. Streets are narrow and sidewalks even more so—to walk two abreast on a sidewalk is a very cozy feat. Traffic signals and speed limits are merely suggestions—the drivers are extremely aggressive, even compared to Californian drivers, so it is best to stay on the sidewalks. Shops and houses intermingle, leaving me to wonder which is which often.

People are friendly and helpful, so much so that even if they don’t know where something is they’ll think about it and give you an answer. Lesson learned: if they don’t answer right away, it’s probably best to ask another person. Also, it is very important to great every person at school individually, and if you're close to them, give them a hug and airkiss next to their face. This is a hugging, touching culture. It is going to be a switch from my American mindset of "touching a student, however harmless, may end in being fired", vs. making students feel loved and accepted here by hugging and tussling hair.

Transportation is fairly inexpensive. The busses cost $6.50 pesos (about $0.50 US), but are a bit confusing to figure out at first. There are bus stops, but you can flag them down where ever and get off where ever. Once I master the bus routes, I’ll take them whenever possible. Taxis charge for the zone only, so if I want to take a taxi from my apartment down town, it costs about $40-45 pesos (about $4 US). So far I’ve never been offered the “gringo price”—if you ever have to pay $100 pesos for a ride around town, you know you’ve been taken.

American women are believed to be “easy” here. Thanks to MTV and Hollywood movies, we are sluts. Also dating an international person is considered a status symbol, so altogether I’m quite popular here with my blond hair and blue eyes…

Nightlife reigns supreme. Bars and clubs flourish. Age limits seem to be flexible, especially if students have fake IDs. It’s common for our students to be at popular places, yet one more reason for me not to go there. This current group of International teachers (ages 22-27) seems particularly interested in exploring the nightlife. I think that’s great, but I am not a late-night person and never have been. The other teachers probably think I’m a hermit, but that’s ok. I’m hoping to befriend some National (Mexican) teachers at school and learn things to do in the afternoon/evening. But at night, since I’m very near a university, I put my earbuds in and listen to piano music to help me sleep.
It’s difficult and sometimes frustrating to be surrounded by a language I barely know. Already I’ve used more Spanish than I thought I knew, so that’s encouraging. I hope that with the start of Spanish classes I’ll become more fluent quickly. Until then I’ll keep practicing my limited knowledge and smile when others laugh at me.

Links to pics on FB:
http://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10150340032086419.398586.596911418&l=586ed32962&type=1
http://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10150336725486419.397708.596911418&l=678a608158&type=1

Bienvenidos!

2011-08-10T21:50:00.000-06:00

The past few days have been a whirlwind. There is so much to see/do/learn and it’s difficult to know where to begin. The lifestyle in Querétaro contains fragments of familiarity: the necessity for food, transportation, and shelter. The elements are similar, yet the utilization is what sets the US and Mexico apart (among many other things). Since my arrival two days ago, I have seen poverty, affluence, donkeys beside the road, rolling green hills, cobblestone streets, Nationals laughing at my attempts and Spanish, and an overwhelming sense of friendliness even to a “gringo” such as myself. Culture shock has not knocked me off my feet (yet), but it has pushed me further on to understand people who are different than me. I do not feel at home yet—that will take some time, but I am content.

Currently my priorities are: purchase a pay-as-you-go phone and figure out how to get internet at my apartment... oh, and groceries would probably be good too!

And the Journey Begins... or Continues

2011-08-08T06:55:00.000-06:00

After an outdoor church service, my parents and I ate a quick lunch of leftover chicken enchiladas (my last dinner at home that I prepared) and we headed south. We stopped by the hospital in Everett so I could say goodbye to my grandpa who had open heart surgery last week, and then we fought Sea Fair traffic and won! That is to say, there wasn’t much traffic… Anyway, we got to the airport a little over four hours early, thanks to a weird relationship between Continental and United Airlines, the bag check-in experience was a bit arduous. I tried to check my bags at Continental, with whom I purchased my plane ticket, and the screen told me it couldn’t accept checked bags more than four hours prior to the flight. So I was going to wait a bit longer (about five minutes) and try again when I overheard someone tell another passenger that since she was technically flying United that she needed to take her bags down to the United counter and check them there. My parents and I packed up the roughly 138 pounds of gear plus two carry-on items and hauled them down to United. Upon trying to check my bags there, the screen told me that the flight may only allow one checked item per passenger and that I had to wait for an agent to assist me. This caused a mini melt-down because I had paid for three bags the previous night online. To help dissipate my fears (after I swore in front of my mother and almost burst into tears), I ferociously zip-tied my luggage while my dad checked the weight—miracle/proof God is with me #1 all of my luggage was under weight (barely)! The agent came and miracle #2 he tagged all of my items and put them on the conveyor belt without question! Next I bid a tearful goodbye to my folks and headed into the security check line—miracle #3 no problems and my fears of being strip-searched were for nothing! Approaching my gate I noticed that my flight was delayed 40 minutes, which then bled into being in a holding pattern just outside San Francisco for 20 more minutes due to weather, and shortened my layover time by half. Yay! Oh, and as a side note, the people I sat next to on my flight I nicknamed Los Besos—‘nuf said…

Thanks to a training in Vancouver BC last year, going through customs wasn’t quite so scary this time. Nothing to mention for the flight from SFO to MEX other than I had difficulty sleeping. So for now, I am going to find a quiet(er) corner in the E2 hall and try to sleep for a bit. Thanks for all your prayers! GIGATT!

Colorado Bucket List

2011-06-23T16:23:00.000-06:00

Despite not being in Mexico for another 45 days (thanks to my handy-dandy count-down app on iGoogle), I didn’t want to leave my adoring followers without something to read for too long lest all four of you run off to read someone else’s updated blog! So here I am to give you the exciting details of my life since my last entry in April.

Summer triumphantly conquered the Springs and me as well. For the past month I have been devouring books that could not be read during the school year, sleeping in and taking naps, and ticking items off my “Colorado Bucket List”. My current roommate graciously made me a list of the top activities I had to complete before departing this great state. Out of the 27 “Must See” items, I have accomplished eight… However, this just gives me reason to return so I may accomplish the rest before I actually kick the bucket! Included in the eight completed tasks: Sky Sox game (complete with free snuggie!); Denver Zoo; camping while visiting the Great Sand Dunes (including bacon flambé), Mesa Verde, and the 4 Corners; and Glen Eyrie—for those of you counting and only getting up to seven, camping was one of the items on my list. I still hope to see Bishop’s Castle, the world’s largest Goliath Beetle, Cave of the Winds, and the Dinosaur Museum in Woodland Park, and go to Cowboys for line dancing all before I leave in eight days.

Pondering over the past four years of my life here in Colorado Springs has revealed a few things to me: 1) I have met some pretty amazing people here, many of whom have become close friends; 2) My students have taught me more than I could have ever hoped to endow upon them; 3) Confrontation is not enjoyable but sometimes necessary; 4) Often it is easier to ask for forgiveness than permission in a school setting; 5) Pushing outside of my comfort zone is difficult but worth it; 6) Kidney stones are EVIL but survivable with the help of friends and family; and perhaps the most important, 7) No matter what may happen or where I may go, God always provides for my needs and many of my wants—He knows what’s best for me.

As I move forward from here with a truckload and carload of what is left of my belongings and a trailer with my motorcycle, I am thankful for the experiences I’ve had here, the people I’ve met and interacted with, and the lessons I’ve learned. I am excited to see what God has in store for me this next school year!

April

2011-04-27T19:52:00.002-06:00

April brings with it not only snow showers (which we’ve amassed quite a few lately) but also showers of depression among educators. It is traditionally one of the most difficult months during the year in which students act up, wreaking havoc upon even the best laid lesson plans. Attention spans of both teachers and students seem incredibly shortened, as well as tempers. As an educator, I feel I have slighted my students somehow, that maybe they would have received a better education had they been in someone else’s classroom. I have students whom I wish had been further along than they are and whom I feel powerless to keep from falling further behind. And it is in the midst of these struggles that I find myself wondering what it will be like in another country. Obviously there will be weaknesses, but will they be the same as I see in America? Do kids “fall through the cracks” like they do here? Do teachers struggle with the same issues regarding funding and support like we do here? I do not delude myself with thoughts of a utopian school where all my current woes and strifes will be lifted and replaced with hour-long lunches and smiling students who are desperate to learn all I have to teach. Yet I still find myself preoccupied with hopes for a better system.

My plane ticket has been purchased—I depart from SEATAC at 6:57pm on Sunday, August 7^th.

A New Teaching Adventure

2011-04-25T16:28:00.000-06:00

So with my decision to teach in Mexico this 2011-2012 school year, I've decided to create a blog so friends and family from around the globe (thanks to my father's international notoriety and infamy in Kenya) can be in on my shenanigans and all around tom-foolery during my exploits.

For those of you who are just joining me on my journey, I have posted below how I came to the decision to teach in Mexico and leave the comforts I have come to know and love in Colorado Springs. Some are excited for me, some think I’m brave, and most think I’m crazy. While all of those reactions are apropos (especially the last one…), I have to follow God where He’s leading me, and it happens to be to Querétaro, Mexico.

Many of you are wondering why I would choose Mexico over somewhere else in the world. It seems like the news is littered with drug lords, violence, and every horrible stereotype we hold to be true of Mexico. Why would anyone in his/her right mind want to purposely travel to such a dangerous place? While some of you may worry about my mental health, I can assure you I am not going into this new adventure ignorant.

The state of Querétaro is one of the safest places in Mexico; for whatever reason, there is a bubble around this area that hasn't been popped. It is located just northwest of Mexico City, and I will be in the major city of Querétaro. One of the first questions I asked at each of my interviews was about the safety of the areas. Recruiters at International Fairs are a bit different from the US in that they are not trying to trick teachers to come; they are very open and honest about their schools and areas because they do not want someone to get there and freak out mid-year and leave. I've also been explaining the "safety issue" like this to people: Chicago and New York, and many other big cities in the US have gangs, drugs, and violence, but that doesn't mean all of those things are rampant in the US and that I shouldn't live here. This is true in other countries. We always hear about the horrible events in other countries, but we rarely hear about the good things.

It is true that I had my heart set on Europe or someplace exotic; Mexico was not on my radar at all. When I arrived at the fair, I checked my folder (each teacher and school has a folder for communication purposes), and I had interview invitations from Saudi Arabia (quickly declined that one... while I'm not big on stereotypes, I do not want to test the female one in the Middle East), Bulgaria, Mexico, and Singapore. I thought, "What the heck, I'll interview with Mexico," because I was worried about not getting any interviews.

JFK American School had a position for 6th grade MYP Language Arts--that's what I've been teaching for three years. Out of all of my interviews, the one with Querétaro was by far the most fun and exciting. The principal of the middle school has a great sense of humor and we really hit it off. I felt like they really wanted me, asked me good questions, and explained what the environment and culture were like. They unofficially offered me the job and asked me to come back later in the day to talk about the position. I logged that in the background because I was really excited for my interview with Bulgaria.

Three more interviews came and went, bringing me closer to my goal. When the interview came with Bulgaria, I wasn't blown away. The gentleman who interviewed me, while American, was tragically born without a sense of humor and did not sell Bulgaria well to me. The environment, while I would do just fine, would be very tradition in terms of teaching styles, and I would have to live in a house with three other girls that I may or may not get along with. The more I thought about Bulgaria, the more I realized that I would only be going because it was in Europe.

The school in Querétaro has been an IB school for many years, but only with DP (11th and 12th grade), and they are starting MYP this next year in 6th grade. With my experience, they told me I was "the complete package" of what they were looking for. I want to be a part of something big, and implementing MYP is big and I'll be one of the "experts" (scary I know...).

So after much prayer in where I should go (I had three offers by that point: China, Mexico, and Nicaragua), Mexico just seems the best fit for my personality and what I have to offer as a professional teacher.

That's the story behind my decision. I'm continuing to research the area and learn as much as possible, but I'm super excited this opportunity. Oh, and by the way, another school in China called to offer me a job--4/6 offers ain't bad! ;)