Poor Little Moo

Kerri and I were on a walk the other day when we saw a poor cat that got hit in the road. We felt bad but continued to walk when we saw a little girl holding an adorable little kitten so we stopped to check it out. The next thing I know we were taking the cat home with us unsure if Mr. Waid would even let us keep the thing. Apparently her mother was the cat that was dead on the side of the road. There were other kittens but we just took the one and to my surprise Mr. Waid said we could keep it. I went to Shati and asked her if she had any scraps that the kitten could have. She was in the middle of cutting chicken for the caregiver’s dinner and she started giving me some of the body parts that were on the side. I sat there and talked to Shati slightly grossed out as I watched her butchering chickens in front of me. In Bangladesh they don’t really let much of the animal go to waste. I then was slightly grossed out by the body parts that the kitten was eating.. I think it was the esophagus. Shati has had kittens in Bangladesh before so I knew that she was a good one to ask how to raise a kitten in a third world country.
             Our kitten was so tiny because she hasn’t eaten much. She looked like a little rat when she walks around. When she meowed it sounded like a baby dinosaur. Her eyes and ears were abnormally to large for her face and I still thought she was absolutely adorable. We named her Mooja after the word “sock” in Bangla because she would walk around with a little sock in her mouth. We just called her Moo.
             On Christmas we decided that Moo should move into the back part of the kitchen where the ladies cut all the vegetables. I didn’t want the kitten to get use to being an indoor cat and my roommates were getting annoyed with Moo (she was very needy). All day Moo was getting use to all the kids and even though she was scared I was proud of her for putting up with the kids dragging her around. Before I went to bed I made sure that she was inside the kitchen area. I held her for a little bit before putting her back in Martinia’s arms and heading off to bed.
             The next morning I woke up to Danny ringing our doorbell telling us that Moo had died. At first I thought he was confused but by the time I went down to breakfast I realized that he was very right. An animal came in during the night and killed our poor little kitten. I feel absolutely horrible about it and so do the kids. Kakoli and I had to pray about it and we thanked God that we got to know little Moo. 

Update: Nepal

Hello Everyone!
             On December 27 I will be leaving for Dhaka and will fly out to Nepal on the 28th. My visa for Bangladesh says that I have to leave the country every 90 days. I will be traveling around Nepal for the next week and will be returning on January 5 (maybe). Lauren, Heather, and I have all decided not to take our computer because we don’t want to worry about our laptops being stolen. I may get access to Internet every once in a while and I will try to update you to let you know that I am safe. There will also be a blog scheduled to post in a few days so keep your eyes open for that.
             The Internet was finally working well enough to post some picture on my Facebook. I will put the link at the bottom of this post. Please pray for the safe travels of the missionary girls and the Finkbiners (who are going to Thailand).

Sincerely,
Chantel 


Pictures:
http://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.2393352084597.122212.1574787470&type=1&l=9e86cdbdbe

Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas!

One of the most amazing things about Christmas is being with your family. Because of thisI did not think it possible to have such an amazing day without my family. I woke up and had the opportunity to talk to everyone that was at my Grandma’s house. This put me in a good mood and as soon as I was done talking to them I put on my new Christmas outfit that was green and I put a lovely Santa hat on my head. I was decked out in Christmas gear! We went down to have breakfast and Shati had cooked us a delicious meal of rice pancakes with fresh applesauce. Shati and the other kitchen ladies had been awake since four in the morning. They cooked special food for all the kids. For breakfast the kids got noodles (they called the loodulls) and for lunch they got a special egg curry that looked absolutely amazing. I’m pretty sure the kids ate all day because many of them had a stomach ache by the end.
             After our breakfast I helped Mrs. Waid get ready for Christmas. We accomplished the goal of getting everything across campus so that the kids didn’t see their gifts and that meant that the fun was just about to begin. The first gifts we gave out were to the older girls. All of them had already received a trunk that they could keep their possessions in (The kids don’t really have a special place that they can keep their things so that other kids don’t get into them). They also got a packet full of goodies such as jump ropes, coloring books, and color pencils. After that the older boys received their toy cars (the chevron ones that have faces) and a toy ball. The little girls all got big dolls that were made by women in pollywog (which gives work to the women in the villages). The kids all got their gifts and that meant that it was time for the caregivers to receive their tokens of appreciation for all the hard work they do. Mrs. Waid had gotten all of them a sharwa camis’ or a saris and we (the student missionaries) had the privilege of modeling the outfits. They called it a fashion show because we would hold out the outfit and wrap it around us and if a caregiver wanted the garment they would raise their hand and we threw it to them. It was so much fun and everyone was laughing hysterically.
             Mrs. Waid also got us presents. She gave Lauren, Heather, and I saris. As all the fun was dying down and the children were finishing up their lunch of egg curry a few of us sat around talking. All of a sudden shwapna came up and started dancing. She tried to get Heather to dance with her but Heather protested. She then stuck her hand out to me and I gladly received her hand so that she could teach me how to dance. This tickled all the Begnali’s to see a white (Adventist) American girl trying to dance like a Bengali. They enjoyed it so much that they decided to get louder music and go someplace where we had more room. We ended up in the back of campus on the threshing floor with Bani, Shwapna, Lauren, and I dancing around. Papri, Heather, and a few of the kids were our audience and we just let loose on some moves. All the Bengali’s were asking us to teach them some American dance moves but I don’t think they realized that Lauren and I
 obviously don’t know how to dance and so we busted out the Q-tip and the sprinkler. After goofing off for a long time we found out that we were going to have our lunch early and so we walked over to the kitchen where Shati had cooked us another beautiful meal. To top it off we had the most amazing apple pie that she had baked for us. Food makes me happy.
             We thought we would have time to rest for a while but before we knew it Tuli wanted us to practice for our Bengali dance that we were suppose to do for the Christmas Program that night (it wasn’t like any Christmas program you’ve been to). When we were done practicing Tuli informed us that it was time to get ready even though we had over 2 hours before the program. I thought this sounded weird because who needs 2 hours to get ready? When we arrived to Tuli’s house I realized why it was going to take so long. First we had to get Alta painted all over our feet and hands. Alta is this red dye that is made out of flowers that they use to decorate themselves when they dance the traditional Bengali dance. Then they put on our Saris and put a thick layer of eyeliner around our eyes despite my protests. They also put these long braided extensions in the back of our head. It looked ridiculous because it didn’t match but it just made the kids laugh. Kakoli told me that I looked like I was supposed to get married (I hope I don’t have red feet/hands and Egyptian styled make up on my wedding day). We were all done with our preparations just before the program was supposed to begin.
             Tuli was the leader of the program and she is the queen of pulling people on stage to sing or dance when they had no clue that she was going to do it. It was hilarious to watch her drag people up and she succeeded at getting Mrs. Waid and Rony to sing. The baby room caregivers came out and gave a baby fashion show where they modeled the baby toilet, burp rags, and bottles. It was amazing to see the normally quiet caregivers breaking out of their shells.
             I missed my family so much but I am thanking God for such an amazing Christmas. I will never have one like it again. I pray that all of you had an amazing Christmas as well!

Update in Pictures

Hello my faithful readers!

Here are some pictures to help you visualize what you have been reading about. I have 6 more pictures that I was going to put up but the internet is absolutely horrible today so they will be up whenever I have patience enough to deal with it. So you only get three right now. Sorry. I hope you do enjoy the ones you get right now. 

This first picture is of Heather, Lauren, and I on the back of the truck with all the clothes that we passed out to the village people. This was a very overwhelming day but it was totally worth it to see villagers get so excited. I felt like it was a parade where we handed out clothes rather than candy. 

This picture just shows you how overwhelming it was to have 30-40 villagers trying to grab clothes from you. You can see Kerri and I struggling to get out everything.

In order to survive the holidays away from home I have been decorating everything like Christmas. I have gone insane with decorating my classroom, bedroom, living room, the cafeteria, the girls room, and our door. Heather and I created this pop out Christmas tree that stands about two feet tall. Lauren and the kids made the ornaments. We also made a little fireplace with glitter around the flames. My stocking is the blue one!

Like I said the other pictures will be up soonish. I ask that you pray for the trip to Nepal that Lauren, Heather, and I have to make. Our visa says we have to leave the country every 90 days so we are suppose to fly for Nepal on December 28 (I wont be able to update my blog for a week and a half). I also want to thank you for your prayers for our health. We are all beginning to feel a lot better. Praise the Lord. 

Giving Love

I was sitting on my back porch watching the village people from across the pond. I was feeling rather lonely and bored when I thought of the blanket that my mom had given me. She told me that it had been my sisters and she wanted me to take it to Bangladesh to give away. When I first got here I would have never imagined that anyone would need a blanket (It was so hot!) but the last few weeks have been very cool. It may not be cold compared to America but the humidity and wind make it bitter. I know that if I am cold that the villagers must be frozen to the bone. I decided that today was the day that I was going to give away my baby sister blanket.
             I rounded up my fellow missionary girls and we took 6 kids with us. We wandered around in the empty rice fields for a while and then went back to the village that is behind my house.  Out of all the villages that are around us I think they are the poorest. I prayed that God would lead me to the family that needed it the most and then we started looking for a baby girl. We walked around giving little candies to the kids but not really seeing a poor little girl to give a baby blanket. We were almost to the end of the village when I saw a lady with a baby girl tied to her back. She was filling two huge pots with water and carrying them to her house. At first I just watched her and then I decided that she was the one that I was going to give the blanket to. I turned and asked Danny to tell her that I had a gift for her.  We walked into her tiny mud courtyard and a smile crossed her face as she found out the reason for our visit. She stuck out her hand that was soaking wet from carrying the water jugs and shook my hand. I took a quick picture of her the baby and the blanket and said Farwell. I think we made her day.
             I was thinking of gifts that I could give the Bengali ladies that work here and I decided the best person to ask what a Bengali lady would like as a gift would be Shati. I went back behind the kitchen to the other prepping room and asked her what I should get.  Grabbing my arm Shati dragged me into the big room where the kitchen ladies do most of their food prep. She took me to where a few ladies were frying fish and standing close to the wooden oven, which produces all the food for the 120 kids and their caretakers. Then she looked me in the eyes and said, “Chantel, when you give a gift you give love. It doesn’t matter what you give, it can be so small, but the person who is getting the gift does not care. They are just happy that you are giving them love. You understand?” It was one of those profound concepts that should be common knowledge to everyone. I really think that I have missed out on what it really means to give/receive gifts.
             I love getting gifts it makes me so happy. But it doesn’t matter if someone gives me something that I really want or need. What matters is that they cared enough to give me something in the first place. The gift is just a representation of the love that is within the friendship.
             In Bangladesh the people are so happy to receive blankets, clothes, candies, and socks. It is kind of beautiful to see people get so excited about things that seem so small. Christmas is in a week and everyone is so frantic about getting presents (in America) this makes it is so easy to forget the best gift we have ever received. Jesus Christ. Now that is showing Love.

(Thank you for praying for the health of us over in Bangladesh. I asked you to continue to pray. Lauren and I are still very sick and Mr. Waid is even worse than before. We appreciate it so much)

Happy Sabbath!

My Voice Ran Away.

 I woke up to my alarm going crazy. I opened my eyes and could only see white outside. The fog was so dense that I couldn’t even see the pond that is right behind our house. For the first time in 2 days I felt like I could actually go for a walk. This was a good accomplishment because I had been so sick the last few days. With all the excitement I didn’t even notice the fact that my throat felt funny.  I quickly hustled down to meet Kerri and I opened my mouth to let her know I was coming… and a squeak came out.
             Two nights ago I couldn’t sleep well. My stomach ached and I felt nauseous all the time. I’ve spent the last two days sleeping or laying down. I attempted to teach yesterday but I sat down in a chair a majority of the class because when I stood up I felt nauseous. This is why I didn’t notice the fact that my throat felt itchy and my voice sounded like squeaking frog.  Although I had no voice I was still optimistic about what today had to bring! While I was adjusting my classes (so that I wouldn’t have to talk the whole time) Tuli walked in. She had gotten in from Dhaka at 3 in the morning and was still ready to help me teach. My class listened very well and since I couldn’t read them a story (which is their favorite part of class) we all huddled together and they read me a story. Many of the kids were asking me how to spell “sick” or “pray” and I got tons of letters in the middle of class that told me they were so sorry I was sick and that they would pray for me.  I felt so loved!
             Despite the bitter cold weather and not being able to talk I wasn’t about to slow down. I had planned to make my class banana bread for their Christmas party for a long time. So I walked down to the kitchen and discovered that baking in Bangladesh is very different from baking in America with a kitchen aid. First of all, the bananas during this season are tiny so we had to use 10 of them. Then Shati mashed them with her hand. We got out the ingredients and then Shati asked me how much sugar we needed. I told her we needed a cup and she promptly poured sugar in her hand letting it overflow and bit and said, “that is a cup.” Basically with all the ingredients we had to do this sort of magical guessing. It turned out to be pretty tasty (I can’t wait to give it to my kids tomorrow). Thank goodness you don’t need a voice to bake!
             At night Danny asked me where my voice went and I told him it ran away. He told me not to worry because it would come back again. Apparently his voice came home when he lost it.  So eventually I will be able to talk again but for now I will enjoy the weird looks that people give me when I croak a response to them.

(you should hear what it sounds like when I sing Christmas music.. it is bad)!

P.S. My roommates are feeling sick as well. Please pray for our health! We need to love these kids and it is very difficult when you are laying down with stomach aches! 

Dirty Little Squat

(My roommates forced me to write about this experience.. I hope you enjoy it hahah).

            Toilets in America are beautiful. They are porcelain thrones of comfort!  Sadly as the book Little Princes describes they are the exception rather than the rule.  For those of you who have not been to a third world country I will describe to you what a “toilet” is like here. It is a hole with two places to put your feet on either side. They are known as either “squats” or “squat pots” for obvious reasons.
            In Bangladesh you don’t want to have to go to the bathroom if you are a lady in town. This is because there are no restrooms for ladies. Men are allowed to go wherever they please and women are supposed to let it “run down their leg” or wait till they get home.
            Last week Lauren, Heather, Mrs. Waid, Kerri, and I went to Joypurhat to do some shopping. Joypurhat is about an hour from where we live and is a lot bigger than Hili (the town we live by).  We had done all the boring shopping and were just starting to shop for things that Lauren, Heather, and I wanted when I realized something horrible. I had to go to the bathroom. At first I tried to think of happy things like butterflies or puppies but the sense of urgency wouldn’t leave. Plus we were supposed to be there for another several hours. Finally I brought up the fact that I needed a bathroom and Mrs. Waid just looked at me and said, “uh-oh.” We wandered around till we found a man and then we tried to explain to him that I needed a restroom. He turned to the men beside him and they began talking really fast and debating something and then he told us to follow him.
            I was right behind him not sure where he was taking me but I hoped that it was somewhere private. The rest of the ladies followed 10-15 feet behind me… obviously they didn’t share my urgency. Finally the man stopped and I kept going and walked right into an open men’s restroom with men going to the bathroom right in front of me! Horrified I handed my bags to someone and saw that on the other side there were enclosed bathrooms (Thank goodness). I tried not to notice the men’s eyes following me and entered into a tiny room and struggled with the lock. As my eye adjusted to the dim room I saw a spider about half the size of my hand just inches from my face. Then I realized that there were dozens more and I just sighed at my predicament.  When you got to go you got to go.
            When I came out I realized that the bathroom had gotten increasingly more popular. I think the men in there were more embarrassed then I was as I walked as fast as I could out of there trying to avert my eyes.  When I got out of the gate I saw Lauren and Heather and they just smirked at me because of my horrified facial expression.

As we walked away from the men’s room I silently thanked God for that dirty little squat of a bathroom. 

Chantel Teacher

“I will do anything but teaching and nursing.”


 I didn’t have an interest in doing either of these and yet everyone kept on suggestion that I look into these two fields. I was trying to explain this to Erma last spring when we were talking about possible occupations that I should do. She laughed really hard and when she calmed down she said, “Oh, the Lord is going to have fun with you.”  It was probably because I was so determined not to do these two things that she knew that I would do them in my future at some point.
            Now I am a teacher and today I have cleaned up and bandaged three hurt children. I am getting both my nursing and teaching in Bangladesh. To be perfectly honest, I love doing both of them. It is so fun to comfort a child who is hurt and take care of their boo-boo by putting a band-aid on it and giving them candy.  Teaching is even more fun (and difficult). I am absolutely in love with my second grade class.
            I teach them English and science every morning and I tutor and teach math in the afternoon. Tuli is my partner; she helps keep the kids from going completely insane. She is very petite for a Bengali and such a sweetheart. Both of us are creative so we probably have the best-decorated classroom here. We have gone through a couple of lunch periods just decorating our classroom with Christmas stuff.
            The kids are absolutely hilarious. They are obsessed with penguins ever since they learned about them and saw March of the Penguins. I think they know more about penguins then I do now. We have studied marine and arctic animals and their favorite animal to name is the Beluga whale. It cracks me up when I hear 11 Bengali children screaming, “BA-LUUU-GA WHALE.”
            There is such a challenge in teaching and I respect the people that teach for their whole career. It requires patience to deal with kids that are ADHA, slower at learning, and over emotional. My precious little Hannah falls into the first category… I don’t know what to do with her sometimes she practically bounces off the walls and hurts other kids in the process. Her cup of energy is full all the time and she is always twitching with excitement. Kerisa is my slower learner. I love her to death but the other day she read me a sentence that said, “Miss Jesus (Miss Jones) was talking and eating a snow cone.” She completely guesses words while reading that don’t make sense. I will also tell her to “try” saying a word that she has guessed and then she’ll say, “try” instead of the real word… I sigh as I explain that she should “try” saying the word rather than guessing. 
            Every kid has such a unique character and I could write forever about the weird things they do and also the sweet things they do. For example, Kakoli bring me half (if not all) of her snack that she gets during recess. I get at least one note everyday and during our class prayer they always thank Jesus for  “Chantel teacher.”

… maybe teaching isn’t so bad. 

Beautiful Things

“You make beautiful things, you make beautiful things out of the dust. You make beautiful things out of us.” -Song by Gungor 

“Life is very simple here,” Kerri said as we began our walk this morning.
That is an understatement. I can pretty much tell you what everyday is going to be like. There isn’t much of a variation from day to day. However, once in a while I like to switch it up. This morning it was just Kerri and I on the walk and we decided to walk through the old rice fields. We balanced on the little raised walking places that lie between each field. We laughed as the natives looked at the crazy Americans walking around in their fields. It was an adventure. When I got back I found out that Bob, Kerri, Mr and Mrs. Waid were going to Dhaka because Mr. Waid is so sick (pray for him). Everyone gathered around the van before they left and you could see how much the people here really care for the Waids. They are loved very much.  Seeing all this love for one another reminded me of how much I miss my family back at home.
            So now I am on my back porch thinking about all the things I miss.
 I miss my family.
 I miss running, wearing jeans, double stuffed oreos, driving, the feeling of being busy, and people speaking English. The list could go on forever of all the things that I use to hold for granted.  It is so hard to live away from your culture for so long.
            I realize that I cannot focus on these things though. I have a God that is so much greater than I can even comprehend and I know that He is here with me. He is teaching me about so many things. I’m learning to love and to be content with what I have or don’t have. Life isn’t all about me.
            Even while I was sitting here typing this blog my precious little Danny came up to my house looking for me. He had to go to chapel but he quickly gave me a hug and while giving me a kiss on the cheek he told me he loved me. There is something so meaningful about telling the kids I love them when I know that what I feel is so much deeper than what I can express to them in a simple “I love you”. God is making beautiful things out of my life in Bangladesh. He always makes beautiful things out of every situation that we go through in life (even if we don’t see it right away).

I just have to remember that God makes beautiful things out of dust. 

Beautiful Sabbath

            It seems as if Sabbath days have a different glow about them. It can be sunny everyday of the week but somehow when it gets to Sabbath it seems to be exceptionally beautiful. Maybe it is just me. However, today was one of those Sabbaths where everything seemed to have that certain glow about it and it left me feeling really happy.
             In the afternoon we decided to give out the rest of the clothes that we hadn’t given out the week before. We loaded up the back of the truck with tons of girl’s dresses and set off to drive around the villages. I brought a ton of hair clips with me so I decided to give them out and put them in the girl’s hair. It felt as if we were in a one-vehicle parade. We would drive to one little cluster of mud huts and yell for all the baby girls to come and within 5 minutes we were off to the next cluster of houses with a few less dresses.
             At first the girls didn’t know what to do with the hair clips that I had given them so I decided to put them in their hair for them. I’m pretty sure most of the girls have never had a proper bath because their hair was so greasy (but I think it meant a lot to them that I was willing to be so personable). At some points our driver would go really fast and I almost fell of the back of the truck a few times. Other times the truck would bounce over a bump in the road and my feet that were dangling off the back would drag on the road. It was sketchy.
             The villagers appreciated the clothes so much. You could tell how needy the people were by how much they wanted the used underwear. I have never thought that I would want to use someone else’s underwear but I suppose if you don’t have any or enough money that you would be grateful. The drunk man that lives in the village behind my house came out and started bugging us. He is the one that yells almost every night. It was nice to finally meet him and put a face to the ramblings that I have heard so often hahaha. Mrs. Waid threw underwear at him to get him away from out truck and it just made me laugh.
             Yet again poverty was shoved in my face as I watched the desperation of the village people. They would chase after our truck and at sometimes it was too overwhelming. There would be up to 30 or 40 people surrounding us at some points and I would just start staring at the chaos that was unfolding in front of me. We would be passing out clothes and the villagers would all be reaching and grabbing. Even though I’ve been here for 2 months the poverty, dirt, and crowds can still get to me. Sometimes I don’t know how to handle everything I’ve seen while in Bangladesh. Life shouldn’t be like this.
             When we finally arrived back at the orphanage I went to my back porch and watched a beautiful sunset. The sky was exploding with orange and pink. It was easily the most beautiful sunset that I’ve seen while I’ve been here. I felt like it was God’s special gift for me on such a wonderful Sabbath that he created. 

All About the Kids

“Trust in the Lord with all your heart; do not depend on your own understanding. Seek his will in all you do, and he will direct your paths.” Proverbs 3:6-5

             I don’t always understand where God is leading me in life. In all honesty, I almost never understand where he is leading me. Sometimes the curves in the pathway of life doesn’t make sense at all to. I often ask questions like: Why did this happen? Why did that hurt so bad? And why was I so stupid to do that one thing?
             At the beginning of this trip I was so homesick that I was almost positive that I would never leave home once I got back to America. I felt useless and the kids were so overwhelming that I felt like I couldn’t breath. They would stand inches from me yelling at the tops of their lungs and hang on me like I was their personal jungle gym. It was horrible to come 10,000 miles to find that the kids were too much for me to handle. How could I show love to children that I could only tolerate for 10 minutes (in my defense, the kids here are insanely hyperactive haha). I thought God was crazy. You might recall one of my blog posts about not fully understanding God but whispering the words, “this is where God wants me to be.” Now with a smile on my face I can see clearly the things that God has changed in me in just 2 months.
             This morning our apartment was filled with probably 10-15 kids that were running around with their snacks… peanuts. They left a mess and although they were supposed to clean it they didn’t do a very good job.  When we came back from town we discovered that ants had infiltrated our room because of all the peanut shells that had been left behind. I was almost shocked when I felt no annoyance in the fact that this had happened.  Since I was exhausted I took a nap and I woke up to Danny ringing the doorbell asking for me. Yet again I was amazed when I stumbled out so that I could hang out with him instead of clinging to my “naptime”. As the day kept progressing I was more and more amazed as I realized how much I enjoyed the little ones even when they were yelling and being a little too much to handle for the other people here. While decorating the Cafeteria with Christmas stuff they all stood in the windows yelling my names as loud as they could. I just found it fun to yell back at them. Then I would put on a Santa hat and make weird faces at them and they would giggle. Kids are so much fun.. they don’t care how weird you are.
             As the sun was going down and Sabbath was approaching I sat on the roof and watched the sky explode with colors.  For the first time I realized how happy I am and how this experience is truly becoming all about the kids. I don’t always understand where God is taking me and sometimes it hurts at first but in the end it is always the path that leads to the most joy. God really loves us so much that He wants us to be happy.  People who think that God is out to be a joy killer are completely wrong. They just don’t realize that the happiness and fun that God brings is completely different than what everyone else thinks is “fun.” People may think that running around to find self-gratification is fun but they have not spent time with 119 kids who need love almost more than they need air. 

Picture Update.

 Lauren, Heather, and I wearing our Shair's for the first time. It took us way to long to get these things on. A Shari is basically just 6 yards of fabric that you wrap around your body until it looks like this. I still don't know how to put one of these things on myself.

This is Mehtali. She is one of my friends who is insanely talkative. Her father works here as a guard and her mother is a cleaning lady. She grew up in the slums of Dhaka where she learned to fear almost everything.

This was our dinner when we went to Sidduge's house for Eid. Eid is the holiday where the Hindu's send over all their old gods (cows) so that muslims can kill them. As you can see we didn't get any meat (which I am okay with). You can see fried eggs, cucumbers, french fry things, orange and pomegranate, rice, fried chilies, and a dhal patty. They brought out more food for us too.  The people here are so generous.

 This is Shati, our cook, washing my foot for communion. She is probably thinking, "man, this american girl has huge feet." Shati has baby feet.

Here are all the clothes that we need to give away. We have only given away 1/3 of them. You can see all the villagers in the background waiting for their turn to get a free outfit.

 Mrs. Waid trying to see if a dress fits one of the baby girls from the village. On the right you can see Oly (in the pink) and a few of the other village children. These children are better dressed than a lot of the kids that came to get free clothes.

 This is the little blind girl that came to get some clothes. It isn't a very good picture but I didn't want to seem rude to the mother for taking her daughter's picture.

 This is our new baby, Silas. I got to name him! He is adorable even though he is drooling.

Danny is always in our room. He makes me happy. He pretty much just entertains himself with our stuff. Danny really likes Heather's ipod. Also notice the awesome bug nets that we have to have around our bed.

Dressed like Bengali woman. We have the dots on our foreheads, Sharwa Camis', and henna on our hands. We thought we were cool until we realized the henna might stay there for a month. Thank goodness it didn't!

I posted more pictures on my facebook. Here is the link to see them:

http://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.2393352084597.122212.1574787470&type=1&l=9e86cdbdbe

Hold onto the Little Things

We all sat in the Waid’s living room about to watch a ridiculously cheesy movie when Shashitra walked into the room. She is the lady that is in charge of the office. She is probably around 60 years old and her hair falls all the way down her back. Shashitra informed us that a baby boy would be brought from a village the following day. This brought excitement because we would be a new baby boy. Of course we had to name this baby. I quickly responded, “How about Silas?” and with that it was settled… the boy would be named Silas.
             Tonight Lauren, Heather, and I went to the baby room so that we could see the new addition to the Bangla Hope family. We walked around the room for about 5 min trying to find him before we could get Kakoli to ask the caregivers in Bangla where the new baby was. He was lying down behind one of the caregivers. I quickly scooped him up into my arms. Silas has very little hair on his head but it is nice to touch his soft smooth head. He is 2 months old and they say that his mother died from Anemia. Lauren found Paul and Heather picked up Ginger and we all just sat on a bed holding the precious babies. I got Silas to smile and do a little giggle and I believe that it was the most precious thing I have ever seen. Nine members of his family had shown up to give the baby to the orphanage and I couldn’t help but wonder how they gave him up. Of course they were too poor to keep him but my mind still couldn’t comprehend how it was possible to give up such a adorable baby.
             When I think of poverty I think of the villagers. As you have read in my other posts, they have nothing. Today we gave out tons of clothes. Many of the clothes were still in very good condition but since so many of them are brought over by the Waid’s each year they have excess that can be given to the villagers that live around the orphanage.
             Around 3 o’clock Lauren and I went down and moved all the clothes toward the gate that leads to the village. There had to be about 50 villagers outside the gates waiting to get in. The guard would let 4 or 5 kids in at a time and then we would have to sort through all the clothes and dresses and pick out ones that would fit them. Some of the children would come wearing nothing but rags and we would give them beautiful dresses and sweaters. A few of them would burst into tears when we would get near them and others would just smile because we kept telling them how beautiful they were. They really were beautiful despite the fact that many of the children were caked with dirt. One little girl came who was about 4 or 5 years old. She was blind but yet she had such a precious face. I can’t imagine how hard it is for the mother to take care of her newborn baby and her little blind girl. If being a child in Bangladesh is hard, being a blind child in Bangladesh must be harder. I cannot get that little girl’s face out of my head.
             I suppose that tonight is just one of those nights where I cannot help but think of the village people.  I cannot help but think of their pain, poverty, and kindness. It is times like these that I wish that I could do more to help but I feel helpless and pathetic. These village kids can be so precious to me but I cannot express it to them. I guess I should just hold on to the fact that we now have baby Silas. He has a much brighter future now that he is here.

Sometimes all I can do is hold onto the little things. 

Communion

“By eating bread and drinking wine at communion, we act out our acceptance of Christ into our lives, the divine human interaction through which God transforms us by the life of Christ. This we remember and internalize our relationship with him.” Altar Call pg 83

             We had communion today in church. For those of you who don’t know what communion is, it is a tradition that Seventh Day Adventist perform (other denominations do it to but they don’t all do the foot washing) where we act out what Jesus did in the New Testament. First of all, Jesus took on the role of a servant and washed the feet of his disciples and then later he took bread and wine and gave it to them showing them what he would do by dying for them.  (this is a very brief explanation).
             When I was a kid I loved communion because that meant that I got a little snack in the middle of church. As I grew older I stopped performing the foot washing because I was self-conscious about my feet being handled by other people (I know it is weird). It was just to weird for me so I would sit and not participate in that part. In America it seems that we don’t understand the significance of what it means to be the “servant” of another person. We don’t have servants so it doesn’t seem to “apply” to us in a personal way. We are just thankful that Jesus died for us.
             In Bangladesh there is distinct differences of people who are wealthy and people who have nothing. Being from America I am automatically wealthier than most of the people here. I hate that this distinction can be felt as I walk around the campus. The woman in Bangladesh cannot wear a sharwa camis if they have not had an education. If they have never been to school they are confined to a plain everyday shari. Since I wear a Sharwa and I’m American.. there is definitely a distinction. I feel like I should be their equal since we are both human beings that have emotions, thoughts, feelings, and opinions. Yet in our exchanges I sometimes feel as if they feel as if they are obligated to treat me in a different manner because of my “superiority” (which I don’t believe I have).
             So today when I had the chance to wash the cute little feet of Shati (our cook) I began to understand a fraction of what it was like for Jesus to kneel down and wash the feet of his disciples. It was a privilege for me to mimic Jesus and wash the feet of Shati who has done nothing but spoil us since we arrived in Bangladesh. I finally felt like I was repaying her for everything she has done for me. Yet Jesus didn’t owe the disciples anything. He humbled Himself (the King of the Universe) and washed the dirty feet of men who would desert him when he was handed over to be killed. (The foot washing also meant more because I now understand what it is like to have disgusting feet from walking everywhere with just sandals on. It is so nice to have them be squeaky clean).
             After the foot washing we went back into the cafeteria (where we have our church) and we ate the bread and drank the juice that represented Jesus’ death. When handed the juice I knew immediately that it was not grape juice but I drank it without questioning. I later found out that it was raisin juice. Apparently they soak the raisins and then squish them somehow so that it makes a juice… it wasn’t that bad. Even though we didn’t have real grape juice the symbolism was the same. By drinking this I acknowledged that Jesus Christ died for me so that I could live a new life for Him. I think I'm going to look at communion in a different way from now on. 

:)

Thanksgiving

(My internet hasn’t been working to well lately so this is posted a day late)

             First part of my favorite season has past and I am still not an emotional wreck. This is a good sign.  Thanksgiving was still harder than I thought it would be. I felt so exhausted from the week that teaching on Thanksgiving was more miserable than fun. I just kind of sat there looking out the window rather then trying to restrain the kids in my class from bouncing off the ceiling. They were especially crazy on Thursday and I just couldn’t handle it. Tuli is helping this new girl learn how to read and so she hasn’t been there to help me out. Our Thanksgiving dinner was really nice though. Heather, Lauren, and I got dressed up in our Sharis and decorated the table with leaves and candles. We ate homemade gluten, mashed potatoes (mashed by hand), stuffing, green bean casserole, and of course pumpkin pie. It was a pleasant meal where we ate far too much but enjoyed ourselves in the process.
             It wasn’t until I woke up this morning that I felt upset that I wasn’t with my family. It was frustrating because skype wouldn’t work and I just wanted to talk to them so badly… so I called. We had 12 minutes of me on speakerphone and different people telling me hello. I couldn’t help but giggle as everyone was showing their uniqueness in the way they spoke to me for their few seconds. Afterwards I walked inside my room beaming and exclaiming how happy I was to have talked to some of my family members.. then I had to walk back out to my porch and cry a little bit.
             Being away from the people you love is so hard when you know that they are all together celebrating. It gives one a feeling of being alone even when there are plenty of people here. I was determined to not let this emotion take over so Lauren, Heather, and I went into town. Going to town keeps us sane. It helps to get off the orphanage compound at least once a week and buy something random in town. We usually don’t spend more than 5 American dollars but it is still worth it to make the journey. Town is about 30 minutes away by rickshaw van. Since the put-put (named after the lovely noise that it makes) is broken we had to walk/get a man powered rickshaw van. I felt so bad for the poor little legs of the man who was pedaling four of us girls into town. (My greatest fear is falling off the rickshaw van into the open sewers that are along the side the road. Let’s pray that never happens).
              Every time we go into town with a different lady that works here we end up going to different little shops and experience totally different things. This week we went in with Oly who works in the office. She was getting food because she was preparing dinner for a pastor who is visiting. Oly took us to the fish market, which is probably the most disgusting place ever. But what do you expect when there are half dead fish everywhere that are dying slowly and smell awful. After that we went through the spice market that has tons of turmeric and other spices, I love the smell of that place. Oly bought us each a shingara (a little pastry with curried potatoes inside) and I’m pretty sure that it made my day. They were so good. Going to town really cheered me up!
              While talking to a good friend of mine today he told me that he was jealous that I got to be here in Bangladesh. It helped remind me of how thankful I am to be here in Bangladesh. I know that soon my family will all be celebrating my return and we will all be in my grandma’s house together. As for now, I am just so thankful that I am experiencing this time in Bangladesh. I thank God for this adventure that he is leading me on.

I hope you all had a wonderful Thanksgiving!

What is Love?

(If you were like me you probably started singing that one song and dancing around when you read the title. If you are not like me (or don’t know that song).. I’m sorry to inform you of my insanity!)

             The longer I am here the deeper I fall in love with the kids. Yes, they are crazy and sometimes it seems as if they are bouncing of the wall or using me as a jungle gym but I cannot help but love them. It is easy for me to like people but I think it is an entirely different thing for me to truly love someone. I admit that I do not love people like I should. I find myself getting more frustrated with people rather than loving them. This is what makes Jesus’ love so RADICAL. How could he love people who were so mean, cruel, and most of all selfish? It doesn’t make sense but yet it is so beautiful that it just leaves me in awe of what Jesus did by coming down to the world to die.
             I’ve been talking a lot about being selfish in my posts lately. This is because the more that I focus on Jesus the more that I realize how selfish I am and that I am incapable of truly loving people like he loved people. I honestly couldn’t make it through a day remaining happy and positive without asking Jesus to give me energy and happiness. I realized that He could give me energy to keep up with 118 crazy children (all of whom believing that it is possible for me to give each one of them undivided attention at the same time). And if God can do all of this that means He can fill me with a deeper love for people than I ever thought possible.
             True Love (I’m not talking about romantic love) is so much deeper than I feel like I can fully comprehend. Yet when I look at Danny (like I am right now) I cannot help but care so deeply about him and all the things that are going to happen in his life. During week of prayer (WOP is mostly in Bangla and is painfully long) I have a lot of time to think (or space out depending on how tired I am). Sometimes I just look at the kids and I think “Oh my word I love them so much!”
             Before arriving at Bangla Hope my friend Kelsey (previous missionary) told me, “be careful those children will steal your heart.” At first, I didn’t know how I would survive living in the orphanage compound. The kids overwhelmed me; I couldn’t leave my house without being attacked.  I sometimes felt like a famous movie star who was hiding from paparazzi. Of course they have all stolen my heart but I think I am just beginning to understand what Kelsey really meant. I am just beginning to understand a fraction of the love that Jesus feels for every one of us. I am just beginning to understand what love is.

“I’m absolutely convinced that nothing- nothing living or dead, angelic or demonic, today or tomorrow, high or low, thinkable or unthinkable- absolutely nothing can get between us and God’s love because of the way that Jesus our Master has embraced us”
Romans 8:38-39 (The Message)

Now that is real unchangeable, uncomprehendible, and unfailing love!

The Extended Family

Today I became the daughter of Danny and Marissa, the twin sister of Diana, the niece of Kakoli, and the extended family is growing every hour by at least two or three. I came out of my house this afternoon to be dragged into my new “house” where my new mom had prepared me a lovely dinner of Ice cream and curry that was made from water and sand. Of course she put a few greens on my plate (clovers) because that is what every good mom does. My father, Danny took me to Hili and Dhaka and then he preached a good sermon on Sabbath. You can do so much when you play house! I even had my birthday and got a huge mound of sand… I mean cake!
            I couldn’t help but laugh as I was dragged around the campus and forced to “sleep” in a bed made of broken tiles behind a tropical tree. Marissa would tell me in a motherly tone, “Chantel, it is time for you to sleep… no, lay all the way down,” the rest of the kids would just giggle at me being treated as a slave of a daughter. These kids are fun and they really do bring out the kid in me. My love for them is growing everyday. I almost cried today when saying goodnight to Danny because he was just so sweet and kept asking me not to go. I use to give huge giant hugs to a few of the kids before bed and now I give giant hugs to almost all of the older kids and my face gets so many kisses that it can get gross sometimes.
            This morning was a little tough because I really wanted to talk to my family at home but I couldn’t because I don’t have access to a phone right now. But as the day kept going I realized that I have a family here in Bangladesh as well as in America. These kids are my family now and I’m not just talking about the game of house we played this afternoon.
            I feel that family is more than just blood relations. Family is people that you love no matter what. You love them when you haven't talked to them forever or seen their face.

God is teaching me so much. One of the biggest lessons I'm learning is how to really Love.

Happy

The first Sabbath I was here I sat down on the floor with the kids during church. On the back of the mat sat a beautiful young girl who I would later find out is named Mehtali. She is 11 years old and is very thin but has the most gorgeous thick black hair that falls half way down her back. My first impression was that she talked A LOT. That first Sabbath she whispered to me the whole time and almost none of it was comprehendible. Even now that I know her she’ll go on a tangent about something in banglish (English + Bangla) and then ends it with, “but you have to promise you wont tell anyone.” Of course I always promise not to tell anyone because I have no clue what she was talking about in the first place.  These last few weeks she has clung to me and is one of my closest companions here. I have brought out my watercolor paint set and am trying to teach her how to paint.
             Mehtali hasn’t had an easy past and just today I found out her life right now isn’t particularly easy either. She grew up in the slums of Dhaka and has probably seen things and lived through things that I don’t want to know about. It seems that everyone who comes from Dhaka is plagued with a fear of people and the things that they may do to them. So often I am with her when she starts rambling about how something scares her so much. Even here in this haven of Bangla Hope she says that her greatest fear is being raped when she gets up to go to the bathroom in the night. Why should a little kid be so worried about being raped? Why does that have to happen? The world is so messed up.
             Today she dragged me into her house and I was shocked by what I saw. After taking my shoes off I stepped into a tiny room with a concrete floor and all the possessions of the four people who lived inside. The room (or should I say house) was half the size of the room that Lauren, Heather, and I share (which fits our three beds and a little table).  I asked her where she slept since I spotted only one small bed that took up half the room. She looked down to the floor and point to the spot that was hers and then pointed to where her mother and sister slept. Her father took claim of the bed. I then asked her if she had a pad that she slept on and she pointed to a thin mat made of grass woven together. She virtually wears the same dress everyday and apparently she sleeps in that same dress. Mehtali was trying to be a good hostess but then she realized that she didn’t have any food to give me and it made her so sad. I tried to tell her it was okay because I was suppose to eat in a few minutes but I could tell that she still felt upset about it. 
             Mehtali is tough, insecure, afraid, beautiful, and one of the most loving girls I’ve met. After she was done painting in my room last night I walked her half way to her house. She gave me a huge hug and didn’t let go of me for several minutes so I just held her. She kissed me on the cheek and then skipped off with her face beaming. She is so happy with so little and is simply overjoyed with the fact that I am her friend.  Mehtali is so precious.