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.