The man behind me shuffles forward, brushing uncomfortably against my back. I shift away from him, wary of the teenage girl in front of me. She’s lost in her phone call, so she’s unaware of the gap between her and the person in front of her. I’m annoyed because, if she’d just focus and scoot up, then I could have more elbow room. Of course, there’s no saying whether this guy behind me would give me that room anyway. He’s so anxious to get to the front of the line that his personal space boundaries have pretty much disappeared.
I sigh and lean slightly to one side checking the length of the line ahead of me. A mother with a screaming baby promises the child food as soon as she’s taken care of her business. Poor woman…surely she knows that the child won’t understand. He’ll scream until he gets what he wants regardless of his mother’s pleading. Another child tugs on the mother’s skirt. She begs for attention the mother can’t give. She’s cute. I squat to her level and pull a toy out of my pocket. I know it’s weird to have toys in my pocket, but I get bored easily, so I like to have something on hand to entertain me. I show the girl how it works, and then hand it to her. She takes the toy then shyly hides behind her mother to play with it. The mother barely seems to notice that the irritating tug on her skirt is gone.
A business man checks his watch and harrumphs his irritation as he anticipates his tardiness to something I’m sure is very important to him, but means nothing to nobodies like me. I feel sorry for him, though. I used to be that kind of person, rushing from place to place, but getting nowhere fast enough. It’s not a life I would wish on anyone. Unfortunately, I know that’s something he’ll have to figure out on his own.
A young couple stands together, his arms around her. He whispers something in her ear. She giggles and glows, obviously enjoying his affection, oblivious to the scornful looks of anti-PDA-activists. I silently root for the couple and wonder why so many people are embarrassed by affection. Is it jealousy, disgust, or just a meaningless response they’ve been taught by society?
Another girl, about my age, fidgets in line. Her eyes dart around like she’s trying to take in all her surroundings without catching anyone’s eye. She fails, though. She catches mine, just for a moment. I don’t know why, but I smile at her. I’m shooting for a reassuring smile, just to let her know she’s not alone. She smiles back briefly…then the moment is gone and her eyes move on to another target.
I can’t see much farther down the line. I’m kind of short, so my view is easily blocked. I’d look behind me to see how much the line has stretched beyond, but the impatient man breathing down my neck makes me too uncomfortable to turn around. Instead I study my toes. The man inches forward again. Seriously guy! Give people space. I clear my throat and step aside. “Go ahead” I say, “I’m not in a hurry.” He pushes past me silently, but with a look of annoyance on his face as if he were entitled to my spot instead of being given it as a gift. I try not to be offended by his lack of gratitude, but it’s hard. I go back to studying my toes.
I pass my time avoiding eyes. I can feel their judging gaze. I let my fingers sway, only so slightly, to the beat of the song in my head. It’s a lonely tune, of dreams un-realized and adventures never taken. My ears burn with the hum of hushed tones; though none are directed at me, I still feel they’re talking about me, weighing my many faults against my few virtues. I want to hide from them all, retreat into my mind, but the waiting seems to lengthen the minutes and hours and spotlight all my insecurities leaving my faults exposed to this relentless crowd of strangers. I recoil, but there’s nowhere to go. I cannot leave the line.
Heart pounding, I close my eyes. I try to imagine I am nothing. I am nothing. Nothing. A giant eraser starts at my toes and erases me out of existence. Now no one can see me. No one can judge me. No one can hurt me.
“Next!” the man at the counter calls. My eyes snap open and I’m back. To my surprise, I’m at the front of the line. The girl on her cell phone is walking away. She must have conducted her business with the man at the counter mid-conversation. She could have at least shown the man enough respect to hang up her phone. Whoever was on the other end would have survived a few minutes until she was able to call back. Whatever. I hope I’m never that rude. The man who took my place in line is gone, too. I can’t see where he went, but wherever it was, he sure went fast.
“Next!” The man calls again. I’m embarrassed that he had to call twice. I look at my shoes again as I step up to the counter. I mutter “sorry” as I approach.
“Look at me” the man says. My hands shake as I try to comply. My eyes rise, but just to the counter. “Look at me” he says again. Oh man, I made him repeat himself again. I’m so stupid. My eyes fill with tears that threaten to spill out as I force them to lift to the man’s face. I’m afraid of what he’ll say…terrified, actually, of how he’ll judge me.
When my eyes meet his, though, they don’t look angry. They’re soft and happy, wrinkled in the corners as if he’d smiled a lot, like he is now. Now that my eyes are on his face, I can’t tear them away. The tears stop threatening to fall as I forget my fears in the overwhelming feeling of safety and peace this face gives me. For the first time since I got in the line, time stops mattering. I stare into his face and drink in that feeling…letting it fill me up until all the bad feelings I’ve been having overflow out the top and onto the ground. Then, I smile back.
“I have just one question for you.” The man says.
“Only one?” I ask, surprised. “How can you determine everything about me with just one question?”
The man laughs. The sound clears my doubts and I say “Ask your question. I will answer.”
He looks at me hard, deep into my soul. When the question comes, it’s barely a whisper.
“How did you spend your waiting time?”
Wednesday, December 3, 2014
Sunday, March 9, 2014
Africa Journal October 4
October 4, 2013
“The world is dark, and light is precious. Come closer, dear reader, you must trust me. I’m telling you a story.” –Kate DiCamillo
There is something about reading adventure stories that leaves me wishing for more of it in my life. Really, there’s not much more adventure to be found in our world than exploring strange and far-off countries, which I’ve done a bit of. I think, though, that our greatest battles and fiercest enemies are all in our heads. That is what makes being a writer so special. We are blessed to be able to set ourselves free by sending our stories out into the world. We live and breathe symbolic quests. I don’t claim to be a great writer, but I hope for nothing more than an unusual and exciting view of this world I live in.
***
If I were in an epic adventure story, I would be a great centaur. I would be strong and fast. I would wear cleverly crafted armor on my human torso, and I would have dark, thick fur that rippled over my powerful muscles as I run. I would carry, strapped to my body, two heavy and sharp swords. These would easily slice through a tree branch with a single swipe of my arm. Across my pack, I would sling a polished ivory quiver. My bow would be my weapon of choice and I would very rarely miss my mark.
My hair would be as wild as my heart, for who has ever claimed to be able to tame a centaur? I would let it all fly out behind me, like my own personal banner proclaiming my freedom. My eyes, too, would show the fire inside me as they focus on scenes of glory and triumph. As I grow older, these eyes would reflect the wisdom I have won through patient endurance and hard battles.
My weakness would never change. My pride would earn me the scorn of other creatures. Still, that same pride will always lead me toward noble battles and prizes of greatest worth. I would be honored to fight with kings by my side. I would risk my very life for those whom I love, for a centaur is the fiercest and most loyal of friends.
And when I have earned my freedom through surviving and winning the day, I would run through the forest with the horn of victory at my lips. Upon each mountain top, I would sound the trump and the world would answer with the joyful shouts of the oppressed made free at last.
Then, I would look down on a peaceful valley. I would weep for relief and sorrow for those who were lost. I would curl my four trembling legs beneath me and rest my head in my arms. I would weep for a time. Then, I would rise up again, noble, proud, and strong. I would nod in farewell to this kingdom of peace, and follow the setting sun. My work, I know, will never be done until my body is laid to rest. I would chase down the sky and leave, in my wake, a better world than the one I found.
“The world is dark, and light is precious. Come closer, dear reader, you must trust me. I’m telling you a story.” –Kate DiCamillo
There is something about reading adventure stories that leaves me wishing for more of it in my life. Really, there’s not much more adventure to be found in our world than exploring strange and far-off countries, which I’ve done a bit of. I think, though, that our greatest battles and fiercest enemies are all in our heads. That is what makes being a writer so special. We are blessed to be able to set ourselves free by sending our stories out into the world. We live and breathe symbolic quests. I don’t claim to be a great writer, but I hope for nothing more than an unusual and exciting view of this world I live in.
***
If I were in an epic adventure story, I would be a great centaur. I would be strong and fast. I would wear cleverly crafted armor on my human torso, and I would have dark, thick fur that rippled over my powerful muscles as I run. I would carry, strapped to my body, two heavy and sharp swords. These would easily slice through a tree branch with a single swipe of my arm. Across my pack, I would sling a polished ivory quiver. My bow would be my weapon of choice and I would very rarely miss my mark.
My hair would be as wild as my heart, for who has ever claimed to be able to tame a centaur? I would let it all fly out behind me, like my own personal banner proclaiming my freedom. My eyes, too, would show the fire inside me as they focus on scenes of glory and triumph. As I grow older, these eyes would reflect the wisdom I have won through patient endurance and hard battles.
My weakness would never change. My pride would earn me the scorn of other creatures. Still, that same pride will always lead me toward noble battles and prizes of greatest worth. I would be honored to fight with kings by my side. I would risk my very life for those whom I love, for a centaur is the fiercest and most loyal of friends.
And when I have earned my freedom through surviving and winning the day, I would run through the forest with the horn of victory at my lips. Upon each mountain top, I would sound the trump and the world would answer with the joyful shouts of the oppressed made free at last.
Then, I would look down on a peaceful valley. I would weep for relief and sorrow for those who were lost. I would curl my four trembling legs beneath me and rest my head in my arms. I would weep for a time. Then, I would rise up again, noble, proud, and strong. I would nod in farewell to this kingdom of peace, and follow the setting sun. My work, I know, will never be done until my body is laid to rest. I would chase down the sky and leave, in my wake, a better world than the one I found.
Africa Journal October 24
10/24/2013
Yesterday was a great day! Well...a mostly great day. I left early for my music class so that I would have time to get online before class started. That didn’t work out the way I planned, but it was a good thing I left early. We (Bintu came with me) almost made it to Parker Corner market before the motorcycle tire went flat, and I mean really flat. A couple motorcycle drivers stopped and helped us take it off. Then, I left Bintu to watch the bike and I got a ride to the junction to get the tire fixed. I was really worried about Bintu the whole time, but I just didn’t feel good about leaving the bike there unsupervised. Anyway, the guy at the repair shop found the leak and patched it up for only 50 LD. On the way back, it started to rain really hard, so we had to stop at the market to wait it out. I was worried about Bintu some more and I hoped that she found somewhere to hide from the rain.
While I waited, I took some pictures of the market. I got some really cool shots. Still, I am not a very patient person, so the wait seemed to take forever, even though it was probably only about ten minutes in reality.
When we got back to Bintu and the bike, I was relieved to see that she had hidden from the rain just fine and that the bike was still where we left it. The man who drove me to and from the repair shop helped me put the tire back on. I offered him some money for his trouble, but he refused it. That was kind of him. He didn’t even ask for my phone number in exchange so that he could pester me with calls and texts for months. He did recommend that we stop at the repair shop really quickly to make sure the bolt was on tight, which we did.
I stopped for gas about half way to the district center. I didn’t realize I was so low on money. After the lady who was selling gas had put the gas in my tank, I discovered I was 45 LD short. I felt really badly about it, and I promised her that I would bring her the rest within the next week. I want to show her that LDS women always repay kindness. I plan to bring her at least twice what I owe her. Unfortunately, there is not money currently in my bank account, so I have to call Mom or Dad to get more...but I’m out of minutes on my phone. Luckily, I discovered that Skype works, sometimes, when I use the wireless internet at the district center, so I can Skype them on Saturday.
Since Bintu and I left so early, we still got to the church an hour before music class was supposed to start. Mostly, it was a review day. I gave Robert his first song to work on, “Mary Had a Little Lamb,” which he picked up really quickly. Sister Godnore passed off “Mary Had a Little Lamb” and came really close to passing off “Twinkle Little Star”. I was really pleased to see that she has started to figure out songs on her own from her Hymns Made Easy book. My other students didn’t come until after five, when class is supposed to be over. Normally I would have taught them anyway, but yesterday I had more important things to do.
I used the internet to download House of Hades. Now, I’ve probably ranted about Rick Riordan’s Percy Jackson books before in this journal, but I’m going to do it again. I love those books! They are easily my favorite series to read, even above the Chronicles of Narnia. The last book Mark of Athena came in October last year. It has the worst cliff-hanger ending! I’ve been anxiously waiting for House of Hades for a whole year, but it also came out in October. Since I’m in Africa still, I didn’t think I’d get to read it until I get home in December, but my amazing boss, Eliza Jex, loaned it to me on Amazon, so I could download it onto my kindle and read it now. I seriously couldn’t put it down last night. I read until my kindle died...which happened around 12:30. Now, I’m frustrated because the van is gone, so I can’t charge my kindle. Normally, I would be able to charge it on the solar charger in Andy’s room, but since he’s visiting this week, he has the key, so no dice there. I’m using my laptop to charge it now, but I don’t think that’ll work very well. Still, it’s better than nothing. I mean, I can at least finish the chapter I’m in the middle of.
Another great thing happened when I was online yesterday. I got to talk to Stacie and Stephanie on Skype. It was amazing! I miss them so much, but actually seeing them helped. I also got to see Jax. Oh my goodness, he’s getting so big! The first thing Stacie said was “Wow! You’ve lost a lot of weight!” That made me happy because people here don’t really notice things like that. I mean, they’re all ridiculously skinny, so, even though I’ve lost weight, I’m still fat compared to them. I wished that I had more time to talk to them, but it was getting dark, so Bintu and I needed to get home.
It got dark before we got home. That made me nervous because the lights weren’t working on the motorcycle. I didn’t expect that because they worked fine last week. I had to drive really slowly and rely on my memory of the road to keep us safe. I still slid a bit, but we got home without crashing. I was exhausted by the time we got home, though. I mean, driving a motorcycle takes a lot of energy normally, but driving about 45 minutes in the sand is really taxing.
When Andy got home, he gave me some pretty bad news. We’ve been waiting to hear from Delta about his second suitcase, which had my blackberry in it. Well, they called and said that it’s lost. That really sucks, especially after getting all my other stuff stolen. It makes me want to guard my tablet with my life because it’s the only technology of mine that hasn’t been stolen. There’s no way I’m letting it out of my sight the rest of this trip. With luck, Andy’s insurance will pay to replace my phone, but I’m not feeling particularly optimistic about it. I guess I’ve lost faith in the whole replacing stolen items concept.
Speaking of stolen items, Andy and Rufus went to talk to the police again yesterday. Apparently, the incompetent officers haven’t even issued a warrant for Blamacee’s (The man who stole my laptop and other stuff) arrest yet. Seriously!? It’s been two months! Grrr! Well, they promised to have it done by the end of this week. Honestly, I have no faith in their promises anymore, and I’m sick of going to talk to them.
Andy is a really kind person. I think he should teach lessons to young men about how to treat people, particularly women. For my birthday he sent me this message: “Heather! Happy birthday. I’m happy you were born, and that you have chosen service as a way of life. God bless you today and always. You are loved because you are loving and loveable!” Then yesterday, at devotional, he talked to the kids about choices and choosing to have a good attitude when bad things happen that we can’t control. He used me as an example, which was a little embarrassing and a lot flattering. He talked about my reaction to hearing that my phone was lost. I didn’t think much about my reaction at the time. If he’d asked me, I probably couldn’t even tell him how I had reacted, but the kids who were around remembered. They said that I laughed at the news and said “It’s all right.” Andy said that my reaction says a lot about my character. I think it’s nice to know what other people think of me sometimes. I mean, getting a compliment like that from a man that I barely know makes me feel pretty good. He was also really sincere. If all guys knew how to be so observant and honest, well, that would be a miracle. No girl would ever have to feel unloved whether or not she has a boyfriend or husband. So boys, if you’re reading this, don’t be afraid to treat your female friends, and even your male friends, with sincere kindness. It’s not weird and it might just change that person’s life. Andy truly has changed mine.
Today has been pretty uneventful. Andy invited me to go with him to visit five villages where he’s doing water projects. I wanted to go. It would have been cool to see some new places. Still, I didn’t think it would be very responsible of me to cancel classes today just to satisfy my curiosity. I’m here to be a teacher, not a tourist. Besides, the kids have been doing better at attending classes this week. I shouldn’t discourage them by not attending classes myself. So instead of going with Andy, I did some painting. I’ll admit I wasn’t really motivated to work really hard on it. It’s super hot today, so I really just wanted to hide in my room where it’s cooler.
The kids should be arriving for their classes soon. I should probably get ready for them. There’s not much power left in my laptop anyway.
Yesterday was a great day! Well...a mostly great day. I left early for my music class so that I would have time to get online before class started. That didn’t work out the way I planned, but it was a good thing I left early. We (Bintu came with me) almost made it to Parker Corner market before the motorcycle tire went flat, and I mean really flat. A couple motorcycle drivers stopped and helped us take it off. Then, I left Bintu to watch the bike and I got a ride to the junction to get the tire fixed. I was really worried about Bintu the whole time, but I just didn’t feel good about leaving the bike there unsupervised. Anyway, the guy at the repair shop found the leak and patched it up for only 50 LD. On the way back, it started to rain really hard, so we had to stop at the market to wait it out. I was worried about Bintu some more and I hoped that she found somewhere to hide from the rain.
While I waited, I took some pictures of the market. I got some really cool shots. Still, I am not a very patient person, so the wait seemed to take forever, even though it was probably only about ten minutes in reality.
When we got back to Bintu and the bike, I was relieved to see that she had hidden from the rain just fine and that the bike was still where we left it. The man who drove me to and from the repair shop helped me put the tire back on. I offered him some money for his trouble, but he refused it. That was kind of him. He didn’t even ask for my phone number in exchange so that he could pester me with calls and texts for months. He did recommend that we stop at the repair shop really quickly to make sure the bolt was on tight, which we did.
I stopped for gas about half way to the district center. I didn’t realize I was so low on money. After the lady who was selling gas had put the gas in my tank, I discovered I was 45 LD short. I felt really badly about it, and I promised her that I would bring her the rest within the next week. I want to show her that LDS women always repay kindness. I plan to bring her at least twice what I owe her. Unfortunately, there is not money currently in my bank account, so I have to call Mom or Dad to get more...but I’m out of minutes on my phone. Luckily, I discovered that Skype works, sometimes, when I use the wireless internet at the district center, so I can Skype them on Saturday.
Since Bintu and I left so early, we still got to the church an hour before music class was supposed to start. Mostly, it was a review day. I gave Robert his first song to work on, “Mary Had a Little Lamb,” which he picked up really quickly. Sister Godnore passed off “Mary Had a Little Lamb” and came really close to passing off “Twinkle Little Star”. I was really pleased to see that she has started to figure out songs on her own from her Hymns Made Easy book. My other students didn’t come until after five, when class is supposed to be over. Normally I would have taught them anyway, but yesterday I had more important things to do.
I used the internet to download House of Hades. Now, I’ve probably ranted about Rick Riordan’s Percy Jackson books before in this journal, but I’m going to do it again. I love those books! They are easily my favorite series to read, even above the Chronicles of Narnia. The last book Mark of Athena came in October last year. It has the worst cliff-hanger ending! I’ve been anxiously waiting for House of Hades for a whole year, but it also came out in October. Since I’m in Africa still, I didn’t think I’d get to read it until I get home in December, but my amazing boss, Eliza Jex, loaned it to me on Amazon, so I could download it onto my kindle and read it now. I seriously couldn’t put it down last night. I read until my kindle died...which happened around 12:30. Now, I’m frustrated because the van is gone, so I can’t charge my kindle. Normally, I would be able to charge it on the solar charger in Andy’s room, but since he’s visiting this week, he has the key, so no dice there. I’m using my laptop to charge it now, but I don’t think that’ll work very well. Still, it’s better than nothing. I mean, I can at least finish the chapter I’m in the middle of.
Another great thing happened when I was online yesterday. I got to talk to Stacie and Stephanie on Skype. It was amazing! I miss them so much, but actually seeing them helped. I also got to see Jax. Oh my goodness, he’s getting so big! The first thing Stacie said was “Wow! You’ve lost a lot of weight!” That made me happy because people here don’t really notice things like that. I mean, they’re all ridiculously skinny, so, even though I’ve lost weight, I’m still fat compared to them. I wished that I had more time to talk to them, but it was getting dark, so Bintu and I needed to get home.
It got dark before we got home. That made me nervous because the lights weren’t working on the motorcycle. I didn’t expect that because they worked fine last week. I had to drive really slowly and rely on my memory of the road to keep us safe. I still slid a bit, but we got home without crashing. I was exhausted by the time we got home, though. I mean, driving a motorcycle takes a lot of energy normally, but driving about 45 minutes in the sand is really taxing.
When Andy got home, he gave me some pretty bad news. We’ve been waiting to hear from Delta about his second suitcase, which had my blackberry in it. Well, they called and said that it’s lost. That really sucks, especially after getting all my other stuff stolen. It makes me want to guard my tablet with my life because it’s the only technology of mine that hasn’t been stolen. There’s no way I’m letting it out of my sight the rest of this trip. With luck, Andy’s insurance will pay to replace my phone, but I’m not feeling particularly optimistic about it. I guess I’ve lost faith in the whole replacing stolen items concept.
Speaking of stolen items, Andy and Rufus went to talk to the police again yesterday. Apparently, the incompetent officers haven’t even issued a warrant for Blamacee’s (The man who stole my laptop and other stuff) arrest yet. Seriously!? It’s been two months! Grrr! Well, they promised to have it done by the end of this week. Honestly, I have no faith in their promises anymore, and I’m sick of going to talk to them.
Andy is a really kind person. I think he should teach lessons to young men about how to treat people, particularly women. For my birthday he sent me this message: “Heather! Happy birthday. I’m happy you were born, and that you have chosen service as a way of life. God bless you today and always. You are loved because you are loving and loveable!” Then yesterday, at devotional, he talked to the kids about choices and choosing to have a good attitude when bad things happen that we can’t control. He used me as an example, which was a little embarrassing and a lot flattering. He talked about my reaction to hearing that my phone was lost. I didn’t think much about my reaction at the time. If he’d asked me, I probably couldn’t even tell him how I had reacted, but the kids who were around remembered. They said that I laughed at the news and said “It’s all right.” Andy said that my reaction says a lot about my character. I think it’s nice to know what other people think of me sometimes. I mean, getting a compliment like that from a man that I barely know makes me feel pretty good. He was also really sincere. If all guys knew how to be so observant and honest, well, that would be a miracle. No girl would ever have to feel unloved whether or not she has a boyfriend or husband. So boys, if you’re reading this, don’t be afraid to treat your female friends, and even your male friends, with sincere kindness. It’s not weird and it might just change that person’s life. Andy truly has changed mine.
Today has been pretty uneventful. Andy invited me to go with him to visit five villages where he’s doing water projects. I wanted to go. It would have been cool to see some new places. Still, I didn’t think it would be very responsible of me to cancel classes today just to satisfy my curiosity. I’m here to be a teacher, not a tourist. Besides, the kids have been doing better at attending classes this week. I shouldn’t discourage them by not attending classes myself. So instead of going with Andy, I did some painting. I’ll admit I wasn’t really motivated to work really hard on it. It’s super hot today, so I really just wanted to hide in my room where it’s cooler.
The kids should be arriving for their classes soon. I should probably get ready for them. There’s not much power left in my laptop anyway.
Africa Journal October 22
10/22/2013
Andy finally came yesterday. He gave me the gifts my family sent to me at devotion last night. I am filled with love and gratitude for my family. Stacie sent me her spare camera to use, for which I am understandably grateful. Mom sent me some DoTerra vitamins. I have needed vitamins ever since I came here. I don’t know why I didn’t think to bring any. Aunt Coral also sent some vitamins, so theoretically, I should be healthier now. Well, that is as long as I don’t pig out on all the awesome candy they sent me, too. They sent two boxes of Mike and Ike, a box of Skittles, a big bag of Runts from WinCo, and a can of dried apples with Jello on top. Oh yummy!
Mom also sent me a new car adapter. I’m so grateful for that! Now we can charge our laptops, cameras, and phones all at the same time (It’s a pretty fancy adapter with two regular plugs, to USB plugs, and a cigarette lighter plug). She also sent me some sketch books. I just about cried when I saw them. They are the ones that I made with my students at ATEC last year. I miss my students. Anyway, I’m using one of them as a gift for Rufus. I’m making a basic drawing instruction book to give to him when I leave. I hope he’ll like it.
Well, my laptop is going to die because I used all the power listening to conference today. Writing time is up.
Andy finally came yesterday. He gave me the gifts my family sent to me at devotion last night. I am filled with love and gratitude for my family. Stacie sent me her spare camera to use, for which I am understandably grateful. Mom sent me some DoTerra vitamins. I have needed vitamins ever since I came here. I don’t know why I didn’t think to bring any. Aunt Coral also sent some vitamins, so theoretically, I should be healthier now. Well, that is as long as I don’t pig out on all the awesome candy they sent me, too. They sent two boxes of Mike and Ike, a box of Skittles, a big bag of Runts from WinCo, and a can of dried apples with Jello on top. Oh yummy!
Mom also sent me a new car adapter. I’m so grateful for that! Now we can charge our laptops, cameras, and phones all at the same time (It’s a pretty fancy adapter with two regular plugs, to USB plugs, and a cigarette lighter plug). She also sent me some sketch books. I just about cried when I saw them. They are the ones that I made with my students at ATEC last year. I miss my students. Anyway, I’m using one of them as a gift for Rufus. I’m making a basic drawing instruction book to give to him when I leave. I hope he’ll like it.
Well, my laptop is going to die because I used all the power listening to conference today. Writing time is up.
Africa Journal October 19
10/19/2013
On Wednesday, I was told that there would be District conference adult sessions today, so my music class would have to be moved to a later time. I didn’t mind, of course, but I was worried that some people wouldn’t get the message. I didn’t want them to come and think that there was no class and not come back. I figured that the best thing for me to do would be to come early and be there just to make sure anyone who came knew class was still happening.
Well, I got to the church on time. The District President, Brother Davis, was there. He asked me to play the piano for District Conference. Yeah...um...sure? I was really nervous. I don’t usually like to play in front of a lot of people, and I didn’t even know what songs they were going to be singing. Lucky for me (yeah, I know luck had nothing to do with it) they asked me to pick the opening song and the closing song was one I knew. Still, I messed up really badly on both songs. *Sigh* I suppose they probably didn’t mind.
After conference was over, another meeting was starting. One of the brothers that comes to my music class, Sam Harris, told me that the church has wifi and he gave me the password. Oh I was so excited to hear that! It’s the first time I’ve found wifi anywhere here in Liberia.
Sister Godnore brought me a snack before class started. She’s so sweet! She brought me a soda in a glass bottle, which was kind of cool and old-fashioned-esque, and two sandwiches with this weird fishy stuff kind of like tuna fish sandwiches only more nasty. I ate as much as I could anyway. I was starving and I didn’t want to be ungrateful. I love Sister Godnore. She’s the sweetest lady. I think that she’s the only person I’d consider a good friend here. I mean, I love all the people here at the orphan home, but Sister Godnore, she talks to me and jokes around with me. We have a lot of fun together during music classes. She’s also the district Primary President, so I get to work with her in primary, too. Oh, yeah, she and her husband are also in my branch. I think her husband is in the bishopric, like the first counselor or something like that. Anyway, Sister Godnore has two sisters who come to my music classes sometimes. They’re both really sweet, too. I had no idea they were sisters until about a week ago.
I’m so proud of my music students! They’re doing so well. They picked up moving scales really quickly, and they’re all getting much better at keeping their fingers on the keys. Sister Godnore started learning her third song today. Brother Harris, well, he kind of cheated and knew how to play a little bit before, so I wrote out some harder songs for him to work on. He started “Doe, a Deer” today. He did a pretty good job picking it out on his own. I really think that that’s all he needs, music to pick figure out on his own. I mean, I’ll help him with technique and technical stuff, but he doesn’t need much more guidance. That’s about how I learned to play the piano, too. My mom taught me the basics, then let me figure it out on my own after that.
It has been hard, though, to have so many late students come to music class. Every day, it seems, I have new people, so I have to start from Lesson 1. Today, I just finished going over the basics with one new student, named Robert, when another one showed up. I didn’t have time to really go into details with the second student. I didn’t even have time to ask his name. I had to rush his lesson so I could make time to sit at the piano with all the other students. I’m glad that a lot more people are coming, but it makes for a very unorganized class. I think I need to make a better plan. I’ll think about it.
I drove the motorcycle to the District Center for the first time, today. It went pretty well. I didn’t crash, but I did slip on a rock and fall over when I was waiting for a break in the traffic. I scraped up my arm and knee. I didn’t mind that all that much. My knees are already so covered with scars from my softball days that one more won’t make a difference. I was kind of annoyed that I put a hole in the knee of my jeans, though. Oh, and I also ran out of gas. That was obnoxious. I couldn’t get the gas tank open, so some guy had to help me open it with a screw driver. Still, I’m glad the motorcycle is working. It really is a lot safer for me to drive myself than it is for me to use public transportation. I gave Sister Godnore a ride home. I was really embarrassed about falling in front of her. I know it happens to everyone, but still I already feel like no one believes that I am a capable driver. Not just that, but I really don’t like people acting like I can’t take care of myself. I mean, they’re constantly telling me to be careful and to hold on to my bag tightly or whatever. I know that it’s dangerous here, but really, I’m not a little kid. I know how to hold my bag so that people won’t take it, and for the record, no one has ever gotten their hands on my bag in town. Seriously, I spent an entire day in New York City all by myself. I’ve traveled to three different countries all on my own. I’ve even driven a motorcycle on three different continents. I think I can take care of myself without everyone worrying about me all the time. Good grief! Okay, I’ll get off my soap box now.
On Wednesday, I was told that there would be District conference adult sessions today, so my music class would have to be moved to a later time. I didn’t mind, of course, but I was worried that some people wouldn’t get the message. I didn’t want them to come and think that there was no class and not come back. I figured that the best thing for me to do would be to come early and be there just to make sure anyone who came knew class was still happening.
Well, I got to the church on time. The District President, Brother Davis, was there. He asked me to play the piano for District Conference. Yeah...um...sure? I was really nervous. I don’t usually like to play in front of a lot of people, and I didn’t even know what songs they were going to be singing. Lucky for me (yeah, I know luck had nothing to do with it) they asked me to pick the opening song and the closing song was one I knew. Still, I messed up really badly on both songs. *Sigh* I suppose they probably didn’t mind.
After conference was over, another meeting was starting. One of the brothers that comes to my music class, Sam Harris, told me that the church has wifi and he gave me the password. Oh I was so excited to hear that! It’s the first time I’ve found wifi anywhere here in Liberia.
Sister Godnore brought me a snack before class started. She’s so sweet! She brought me a soda in a glass bottle, which was kind of cool and old-fashioned-esque, and two sandwiches with this weird fishy stuff kind of like tuna fish sandwiches only more nasty. I ate as much as I could anyway. I was starving and I didn’t want to be ungrateful. I love Sister Godnore. She’s the sweetest lady. I think that she’s the only person I’d consider a good friend here. I mean, I love all the people here at the orphan home, but Sister Godnore, she talks to me and jokes around with me. We have a lot of fun together during music classes. She’s also the district Primary President, so I get to work with her in primary, too. Oh, yeah, she and her husband are also in my branch. I think her husband is in the bishopric, like the first counselor or something like that. Anyway, Sister Godnore has two sisters who come to my music classes sometimes. They’re both really sweet, too. I had no idea they were sisters until about a week ago.
I’m so proud of my music students! They’re doing so well. They picked up moving scales really quickly, and they’re all getting much better at keeping their fingers on the keys. Sister Godnore started learning her third song today. Brother Harris, well, he kind of cheated and knew how to play a little bit before, so I wrote out some harder songs for him to work on. He started “Doe, a Deer” today. He did a pretty good job picking it out on his own. I really think that that’s all he needs, music to pick figure out on his own. I mean, I’ll help him with technique and technical stuff, but he doesn’t need much more guidance. That’s about how I learned to play the piano, too. My mom taught me the basics, then let me figure it out on my own after that.
It has been hard, though, to have so many late students come to music class. Every day, it seems, I have new people, so I have to start from Lesson 1. Today, I just finished going over the basics with one new student, named Robert, when another one showed up. I didn’t have time to really go into details with the second student. I didn’t even have time to ask his name. I had to rush his lesson so I could make time to sit at the piano with all the other students. I’m glad that a lot more people are coming, but it makes for a very unorganized class. I think I need to make a better plan. I’ll think about it.
I drove the motorcycle to the District Center for the first time, today. It went pretty well. I didn’t crash, but I did slip on a rock and fall over when I was waiting for a break in the traffic. I scraped up my arm and knee. I didn’t mind that all that much. My knees are already so covered with scars from my softball days that one more won’t make a difference. I was kind of annoyed that I put a hole in the knee of my jeans, though. Oh, and I also ran out of gas. That was obnoxious. I couldn’t get the gas tank open, so some guy had to help me open it with a screw driver. Still, I’m glad the motorcycle is working. It really is a lot safer for me to drive myself than it is for me to use public transportation. I gave Sister Godnore a ride home. I was really embarrassed about falling in front of her. I know it happens to everyone, but still I already feel like no one believes that I am a capable driver. Not just that, but I really don’t like people acting like I can’t take care of myself. I mean, they’re constantly telling me to be careful and to hold on to my bag tightly or whatever. I know that it’s dangerous here, but really, I’m not a little kid. I know how to hold my bag so that people won’t take it, and for the record, no one has ever gotten their hands on my bag in town. Seriously, I spent an entire day in New York City all by myself. I’ve traveled to three different countries all on my own. I’ve even driven a motorcycle on three different continents. I think I can take care of myself without everyone worrying about me all the time. Good grief! Okay, I’ll get off my soap box now.
Africa Journal September 28
9/28/2013
I missed my primary music class again today because the van broke down again on our way there. I ended up spending a couple hours practicing the piano on my own. My heart wasn’t really in it today, though. I was frustrated about missing the class.
After I gave up practicing, I had to go to Duala to buy some food. I’ve been super hungry lately because I’ve been too sick to go shopping. It was really obnoxious trying to get my food home without the van. I had all my food in a big box. Trying to get it on the motorcycles on the way home was scary. The driver tried to balance the box in front of him between the handle bars. Rufus pointed out that if he put it there, he wouldn’t be able to see. We ended up strapping it onto the back of the bike, and Rufus had to walk.
I missed my primary music class again today because the van broke down again on our way there. I ended up spending a couple hours practicing the piano on my own. My heart wasn’t really in it today, though. I was frustrated about missing the class.
After I gave up practicing, I had to go to Duala to buy some food. I’ve been super hungry lately because I’ve been too sick to go shopping. It was really obnoxious trying to get my food home without the van. I had all my food in a big box. Trying to get it on the motorcycles on the way home was scary. The driver tried to balance the box in front of him between the handle bars. Rufus pointed out that if he put it there, he wouldn’t be able to see. We ended up strapping it onto the back of the bike, and Rufus had to walk.
Africa Journal September 21
9/6/2013
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9/21/2013
As you can see, my brand new computer stopped working not even a month after I bought it. I took it back to the shop where I bought it. Unfortunately, since I’m not in the U.S., there was no warrantee for the thing. I am ashamed to say that I said some very unkind things to the shop owner. He became much more helpful after that, though. He found me a replacement computer and only charged me for the price difference, which was $100. I was still frustrated, but that’s better than having to buy a whole new computer. Besides, I actually like this one better now that I’m getting used to it. I’m especially glad that it has Windows 7 rather than Windows 8. I have no idea what Microsoft was thinking when they made Windows 8. It is the most obnoxiously complicated operating system I have ever seen. I think I’d even take a Mac over another Windows 8.
Today, I actually had very few projects. I’m still getting over being sick, but I did better today. I actually had energy to make food. Granted, it wasn’t much. I just added some cream of chicken soup to the rice that they gave me. It tasted fabulous, though. The only thing that could have made it better was a bit of extra sharp cheese grated an inch thick on top. Oh yummy! Man, though, I need to stop thinking so much about food. I mean, I really feel like a glutton sometimes because I think so much about it. Every time I read about food in a book, or see someone eating in a movie I get jealous. I miss food so much! I would love nothing more than a nice ham and cheese sandwich right now. Okay, I’m making myself hungry. Stop it Heather!
I started reading Cheaper by the Dozen today. It made me cry a little because it reminded me so much of my own family. There was one part where the dad makes one of the youngest girls paint a whole fence by herself because she promised she would for only 47₵. It took her a really long time, but he made her do it and he wouldn’t let anyone help her. When she finally finished, she cried and he gave her the money. He told her that the reason he made her do it was to teach her about keeping promises. He rewarded her for her persistence by buying her new roller skates that she had wanted to buy with the money she earned. I love this story because it really sounds like something my own dad would do. I mean, he is always trying to teach us to be hard workers and to be self-reliant, but when we really do the best we can and still fall short, he always makes up the difference. It was like my first year in college. I was going to school full time and riding the bus to and from Salem Hills High School where I worked as a tutor. I was not getting paid much and, looking back, I am amazed that I survived so long with such a small income. Anyway, my dad found out that I was spending nearly five hours a day on the bus, since schedules didn’t match up very well and it was a really long route from Salem to Orem. Most nights, I went home on the very last bus run, which was about 10:00. Anyway, Dad found out about this problem and he bought me a car for Christmas. It was a beat up piece of junk, but I loved that car so much. We had to fix it about a thousand times before it finally gave up the ghost less than a year after I got it. Still, that car made it possible for me to get a better job and to be a lot less dependent on others for my transportation. My dad is so amazing!
Today, I watched How to Train Your Dragon with the kids. You know how there’s that old stereotype about black people yelling at movie screens? Well I can witness to the accuracy of that stereotype. It’s really obnoxious sometimes, but it also really adds to my enjoyment of the movie. They seriously get into movies. They yell things like “Catch him!” and “Oh bad man!” It’s kind of amusing. I’m afraid I might pick up on bad habits and start yelling at the screen, too. I’m sure it’ll annoy my poor boyfriend when I get home...though we weren’t really into watching movies together all that much before I left. Maybe we’ll find better things to do when I get home, too. We’ll see.
The van is still broken down. It’s been a week and a half already. Rufus keeps saying that the mechanic is going to come fix it “tomorrow morning”, but he’s said that like four times and it still hasn’t happened. It’s interesting that honesty isn’t really valued so much in this society. I mean, Rufus, I know, wouldn’t intentionally lie to me, but I was taught that when you say you’re going to do something and you don’t, that’s dishonest. Either Rufus has been dishonest by saying that the mechanic is coming, or the mechanic was dishonest when he told Rufus he would come. Were my mechanic to do such a thing to me, he would instantly lose my business. Of course, I could drive half a block down the street and find a new mechanic. I’m not sure that it would be so simple here in Liberia. Anyway, I remember Jana and I having a discussion about this sort of thing. She said that she finds herself excusing unacceptable behaviors and circumstances because “that’s what happens when you’re in Africa.” We discussed, however, the folly of this attitude. People, no matter what country they’re from, will only live up to the standards they are held to. If we excuse dishonesty because we expect nothing more from the African people, then that’s the standard they will continue to live up to. However, if they are held to a higher standard of expectations, then eventually the bar will be raised and the country as a whole will rise up with it. Of course, that takes a lot of patience and time. I, unfortunately, have neither. The best I can do is, try to teach this concept to the kids here and hope they remember and act on it someday.
Africa Journal September 2
9/2/2013
Today, I am very disappointed. I feel like I'm a failure and that coming here was a waste of time and money. Not one single student chose to take classes with me. Tomorrow, they will all go to their crapy public school and I will spend all day alone here doing everything except what I came here to do. I tried explaining to the kids and persuading them that school with me will be better, but when it came down to the choice, none of them believed that I could actually teach them better than their public school teachers. Jana says that they're just not ready for a better education. I keep trying to tell myself that and it's not my fault. Still, I feel like I didn't do a good enough job showing them that I can teach them. If it didn't cost so much money, I think I'd go home right now. There's no point in me staying here when there's no one for me to teach.
I know Heavenly Father sent me here for a good reason. Right now, I'm having a hard time understanding that reason. I'm sure, when I'm less upset, I'll be more rational.
Africa Journal August 31
8/31/2013
I talked to the kids about school. I was a bit surprised that several of them were really upset because they want to go to public school. I tried to explain to them that school with me will be much better for them than public school, but they wouldn't believe me. I talked to Andy and Jana about it. We decided that the kids should decide. If they choose the poor public education, it will do them no good for us to try to force them to come to school with me. I'm really anxious about it because I know, and Andy knows, and Jana knows, what the right choice for them is, but it's hard to see them make wrong choices without being able to do anything about it.
I'm feeling pretty down about all of this. I'm trying not to feel like I'm wasting my time here because no one wants to learn from me. I know that's not true, but it keeps popping into my head.
I wonder how our kids back home would react if we suddenly decided to home school them. I think they'd probably have a fit, too
When I have kids, I'd rather start them in home school so that they never become attached to public school in the first place. It's so hard to break a person's habits. I think what I'm experiencing is a bit like what missionaries have to deal with when their investigators aren't ready to accept the gospel. It's really sad because I know what I have to offer them is so much better than what they already have, but they have to accept it.
Today, I worked with Felicia for a long time on memorizing a scripture. For a girl who doesn't want to learn from me, she was pretty persistant about it. After we had studied for several hours, I invited her to watch Beauty and the Beast with me. I enjoy having one-on-one time with the kids. I think, maybe, she'll be more excited about having classes with me now. Then again, maybe not. We'll see. I'll find out tomorrow when we have our big meeting to decide what we're going to do.
Today was the last day before the older kids move to the halfway house. To celebrate, we watched Tangled, then listened to music and danced until devotional time. It was really fun. I liked watching the kids dance, and singing along. The greatest part was when we came to a song they all knew and all of them would start singing at the top of their lungs. It was awesome.
After devotional, I finally got to talk to Rufus about school. I explained to him what concerns the kids had and why Jana, Andy, and I think that they would learn better coming to class with me. It's nice to know Rufus will back me up tomorrow when I talk to the kids about it. I hope Heavenly Father will back me up, too.
I talked to the kids about school. I was a bit surprised that several of them were really upset because they want to go to public school. I tried to explain to them that school with me will be much better for them than public school, but they wouldn't believe me. I talked to Andy and Jana about it. We decided that the kids should decide. If they choose the poor public education, it will do them no good for us to try to force them to come to school with me. I'm really anxious about it because I know, and Andy knows, and Jana knows, what the right choice for them is, but it's hard to see them make wrong choices without being able to do anything about it.
I'm feeling pretty down about all of this. I'm trying not to feel like I'm wasting my time here because no one wants to learn from me. I know that's not true, but it keeps popping into my head.
I wonder how our kids back home would react if we suddenly decided to home school them. I think they'd probably have a fit, too
When I have kids, I'd rather start them in home school so that they never become attached to public school in the first place. It's so hard to break a person's habits. I think what I'm experiencing is a bit like what missionaries have to deal with when their investigators aren't ready to accept the gospel. It's really sad because I know what I have to offer them is so much better than what they already have, but they have to accept it.
Today, I worked with Felicia for a long time on memorizing a scripture. For a girl who doesn't want to learn from me, she was pretty persistant about it. After we had studied for several hours, I invited her to watch Beauty and the Beast with me. I enjoy having one-on-one time with the kids. I think, maybe, she'll be more excited about having classes with me now. Then again, maybe not. We'll see. I'll find out tomorrow when we have our big meeting to decide what we're going to do.
Today was the last day before the older kids move to the halfway house. To celebrate, we watched Tangled, then listened to music and danced until devotional time. It was really fun. I liked watching the kids dance, and singing along. The greatest part was when we came to a song they all knew and all of them would start singing at the top of their lungs. It was awesome.
After devotional, I finally got to talk to Rufus about school. I explained to him what concerns the kids had and why Jana, Andy, and I think that they would learn better coming to class with me. It's nice to know Rufus will back me up tomorrow when I talk to the kids about it. I hope Heavenly Father will back me up, too.
Africa Journal August 29
8/29/2013
I studied pretty much all day today...well, I took a break to do my laundry, but that was about it. It was so awesome! Okay, you know how I've always had a hard time with math. I've been studying methods of teaching math and they talk a lot about having a firm foundation of basics to build on. Honestly, my foundation is less firm and more...well...cracked. I never actually memorized all the times tables. I've always had a calculator to do them for me. I figure it's about time I put some effort into getting better at math instead of just whining about it being hard. I sat down and memorized all the times tables today. Hurray! Now I'm as accomplished as the average third grader. x_x
I also painted a little bit today. It's was just a little, though. I touched up some parts of my tree painting that needed it. Unfortunately, right after I finished, sweet little Gordon put his hand in the fresh paint and smeared it all down the wall. He's so cute, but some days I would like very much to strangle him. I helped him wash it off with the kerosene oil. Tomorrow, I suppose, I'll have to touch it up again. Maybe I'll paint a flower or something over that smeared spot.
Yesterday, I discovered a little hot plate in a box on the shelf in my room. I used it to make some Ramen noodles. It was exciting. Then I was thinking....I have bread...and jam...and they sell eggs at the market...I could totally make French toast!!!! I'm so excited now! I wanted to get some eggs today, but it rained a lot so I couldn't take the motorcycle to the market. Hopefully tomorrow will be dry long enough for me to go. I suppose I could probably ask Rufus to get some for me, too. Yay French toast!
I just have to add, our neighbor kids are super cute. I don't know any of their names except the youngest. Her name is Blessing and she's two. She's freaking adorable! She has learned my name. I often hear her calling me from outside the fence. When I answer, she grins and waves. It's so great. Maybe her mom won't mind if I kidnap her and take her home with me. She could grow up and marry Jax and they could have sweet, adorable caramel babies.
I was scared to death by a spider today. It was in the toilet. I didn't realize it was there until after I was finished doing my business. Ewww!!!!! Still, spiders in the toilet are a lot easier to kill. They can't get away so fast and you can just flush them down. Ugh, but they're so creepy!
The kids like to help me with my laundry. They think it's funny that I can't do it as fast as they can. I don't mind, though. I think it makes them feel important to show me how to do it, even though I do know how it's done by now. Today, it started raining half way through doing my laundry. We just left it out. I mean, it's not like the rain is going to hurt it. If anything, it helped rinse the soap off the clean clothes. After the rain stopped, Bintu, Princess, and the girls from next door came to help me. Even blessing helped squeeze the water out of the clean clothes. She was so cute! I think she mostly just got really wet, but it was fun to watch her try to be helpful.
I studied pretty much all day today...well, I took a break to do my laundry, but that was about it. It was so awesome! Okay, you know how I've always had a hard time with math. I've been studying methods of teaching math and they talk a lot about having a firm foundation of basics to build on. Honestly, my foundation is less firm and more...well...cracked. I never actually memorized all the times tables. I've always had a calculator to do them for me. I figure it's about time I put some effort into getting better at math instead of just whining about it being hard. I sat down and memorized all the times tables today. Hurray! Now I'm as accomplished as the average third grader. x_x
I also painted a little bit today. It's was just a little, though. I touched up some parts of my tree painting that needed it. Unfortunately, right after I finished, sweet little Gordon put his hand in the fresh paint and smeared it all down the wall. He's so cute, but some days I would like very much to strangle him. I helped him wash it off with the kerosene oil. Tomorrow, I suppose, I'll have to touch it up again. Maybe I'll paint a flower or something over that smeared spot.
Yesterday, I discovered a little hot plate in a box on the shelf in my room. I used it to make some Ramen noodles. It was exciting. Then I was thinking....I have bread...and jam...and they sell eggs at the market...I could totally make French toast!!!! I'm so excited now! I wanted to get some eggs today, but it rained a lot so I couldn't take the motorcycle to the market. Hopefully tomorrow will be dry long enough for me to go. I suppose I could probably ask Rufus to get some for me, too. Yay French toast!
I just have to add, our neighbor kids are super cute. I don't know any of their names except the youngest. Her name is Blessing and she's two. She's freaking adorable! She has learned my name. I often hear her calling me from outside the fence. When I answer, she grins and waves. It's so great. Maybe her mom won't mind if I kidnap her and take her home with me. She could grow up and marry Jax and they could have sweet, adorable caramel babies.
I was scared to death by a spider today. It was in the toilet. I didn't realize it was there until after I was finished doing my business. Ewww!!!!! Still, spiders in the toilet are a lot easier to kill. They can't get away so fast and you can just flush them down. Ugh, but they're so creepy!
The kids like to help me with my laundry. They think it's funny that I can't do it as fast as they can. I don't mind, though. I think it makes them feel important to show me how to do it, even though I do know how it's done by now. Today, it started raining half way through doing my laundry. We just left it out. I mean, it's not like the rain is going to hurt it. If anything, it helped rinse the soap off the clean clothes. After the rain stopped, Bintu, Princess, and the girls from next door came to help me. Even blessing helped squeeze the water out of the clean clothes. She was so cute! I think she mostly just got really wet, but it was fun to watch her try to be helpful.
Africa Journal August 26
8/26/2013
We spend so much time waiting. It's kind of ridiculous. I think, in the Celestial Kingdom, there will be no waiting. That would be pretty awesome.
My day started really early this morning. I simply couldn't sleep. I tossed and turned, and read and wrote, and tried to sleep again. Nothing helped. I turned my cell phone off at 2:37 am because its battery was dying. It's been dying a lot faster than usual lately. I finally figured out why. There is pretty much no service in my bedroom. If I keep my phone in my room, it will constantly search for service draining the battery.
You can imagine my irritation at being woken up much earlier than I liked to the sound of that stupid bell. Rufus has a bell that he rings to wake everyone up every morning and to call everyone to devotional every night. I wouldn't mind it, except he always rings it over and over and over. I'm not kidding, I timed him once. He rang the bell for ten minutes strait. Talk about overkill! It gets really really irritating some days.
Diana didn't come to class on time today. I think she has this weird idea that if I'm not sitting there waiting for her when she comes, then she doesn't have to be on time. Most of the time, I come out a couple minutes before class is supposed to start, but occasionally I come out exactly on time just to see if she'll be there. Well, today was one of those days. She didn't come.
Since I had no class to teach, I devoted the majority of my day to painting. I got pretty far on the mural for the girls' dorm. It's a black tree with vines and quotes on it. Diana helped me pick out the quotes. She also helped me paint. It looks pretty nice so far. Painting has been a lot easier since Rufus bought me some kerosene oil to clean my brushes. He bought lacquer thinner the first time and that stuff just plain didn't do the trick.
I thought, perhaps, Jefferline might be ready to start classes. She's been asking Rufus when she can start again, but not me. She's also been working really hard and has a good attitude. I invited her to come talk to me about classes at six this evening. She didn't show up. That was pretty disappointing. I suppose I'll just have to wait a while longer.
We spend so much time waiting. It's kind of ridiculous. I think, in the Celestial Kingdom, there will be no waiting. That would be pretty awesome.
My day started really early this morning. I simply couldn't sleep. I tossed and turned, and read and wrote, and tried to sleep again. Nothing helped. I turned my cell phone off at 2:37 am because its battery was dying. It's been dying a lot faster than usual lately. I finally figured out why. There is pretty much no service in my bedroom. If I keep my phone in my room, it will constantly search for service draining the battery.
You can imagine my irritation at being woken up much earlier than I liked to the sound of that stupid bell. Rufus has a bell that he rings to wake everyone up every morning and to call everyone to devotional every night. I wouldn't mind it, except he always rings it over and over and over. I'm not kidding, I timed him once. He rang the bell for ten minutes strait. Talk about overkill! It gets really really irritating some days.
Diana didn't come to class on time today. I think she has this weird idea that if I'm not sitting there waiting for her when she comes, then she doesn't have to be on time. Most of the time, I come out a couple minutes before class is supposed to start, but occasionally I come out exactly on time just to see if she'll be there. Well, today was one of those days. She didn't come.
Since I had no class to teach, I devoted the majority of my day to painting. I got pretty far on the mural for the girls' dorm. It's a black tree with vines and quotes on it. Diana helped me pick out the quotes. She also helped me paint. It looks pretty nice so far. Painting has been a lot easier since Rufus bought me some kerosene oil to clean my brushes. He bought lacquer thinner the first time and that stuff just plain didn't do the trick.
I thought, perhaps, Jefferline might be ready to start classes. She's been asking Rufus when she can start again, but not me. She's also been working really hard and has a good attitude. I invited her to come talk to me about classes at six this evening. She didn't show up. That was pretty disappointing. I suppose I'll just have to wait a while longer.
Africa Journal August 24
I think it's important for me to remember (and for you readers to know) that even though I'm so far away, my family and boyfriend are still very important parts of my life. They keep me going and support me every day. I honestly wouldn't have the strength to stay here without them. Living in Liberia is hard. Don't get me wrong, I do love it here, but there have been days when I've cried in fear and loneliness. It's scary to live in an unsafe country. Not too long ago, a man was murdered not far from where we live. I've also seen people in the city beating a man who was caught stealing. I've been warned many times not to leave the compound, and sometimes, not even my bedroom, after dark. When we go to town, I have to keep my money locked in my backpack because people will open the pockets and take things out as I walk through the streets. Of course, there's also the whole issue of having my laptop stolen, too. This country is just plain unsafe. I knew that before I came, but I don't think I really understood it.
Africa Journal August 23
8/23/2013
I've been feeling gradually better all week. I've noticed something kind of weird. Ever since I came to Liberia, it has been harder to keep track of the days. I am amused to find that my computer claims that today is Friday. If someone had asked me a few minutes ago, before I checked the day to put it on the top of this journal entry, I would have said it was either Tuesday or Wednesday. The reason for this, I'm sure, is that I don't really write the date on a regular basis anymore. When I was home, I had to write it pretty much every day for work and school. I also have different schedules every day back home. Here, though, every day is the same, except Sunday. I don't really mind it. It's nice to not worry about the passing of time so much. I mean, I am aware that my time here is limited, but by not tracking it, I am able to enjoy it more.
Anyway, I've been working with Diana and studying A Thomas Jefferson Education. Diana has been getting frustrated with Art class. I think she feels like she's not getting better, but she really is. I've been trying to be encouraging, but I'm not sure how to help her feel better. I think the biggest problem is that she's comparing her work to mine, not to her own past drawings. In fact, I don't think that this is a problem unique to Diana. I believe that's what our church is about, that is, teaching people to progress in their own way at their own speed without trying to compare or outdo those around them.
Okay, this is kind of weird, but I've noticed, mostly at night, that there is this unusual sound here. At first, I thought it was someone breathing loudly, but that didn't really make sense because I was alone in my bedroom when I first noticed it. Then, naturally, I thought it was my imagination, or maybe the echo of my own breathing off the cement walls in my room. After a couple experiments involving holding my breath and listening for a long time, I ruled that out. I didn't really figure it out until I was reading the 7th Harry Potter book yesterday. There is a part that talks about the ocean and how it sounds like deep breathing. It was then that I realized it was the ocean I've been hearing. We're not really that close to it, so I didn't think of it at first, but it makes sense that, when everyone is quiet at night, the sound travels far in the humid air so that it sounds like really soft breathing when it reaches my room. It's a beautiful sound. I often lay awake listening to the sound. It's like the earth itself is sleeping.
I got tired of the younger girls running around with giant holes in their clothes, so I told them to bring me their ripped clothes so that I could sew them up. Today, I repaired a blue Roaring 20s style dress for Bintu. I must admit, I was worried. I am not exactly an accomplished seamstress. It turned out well enough, but not perfect. My mom always told me that I should practice sewing. I honestly never thought that there would be a time when I wouldn't be able to go buy new clothes when they get damaged. Back home, we are blessed to have DI so close to our home. We have access to new (or new to us) clothes all the time. Even starving students like me can afford to buy a new dress when our old ones wear out. We're spoiled! Still, like washing laundry by hand, repairing clothes is a skill we Americans should learn just to be on the safe side. So, my future children and grandchildren who might be reading this...I'm sorry if you, like me, hate sewing. Do it anyway.
I'm sitting in the van during my break writing in my journal. For some weird reason, all the kids decided that they wanted to get in the van, too. I really don't know what's so exciting about watching me write in my journal, but apparently it's thrilling. They're cute. I suppose they like to watch me type and it is raining, so perhaps they're just hiding from the rain. It's a good thing they're cute or I would be really annoyed really quickly. It's hard to focus on writing with half a dozen children talking loudly behind me.
I've been feeling gradually better all week. I've noticed something kind of weird. Ever since I came to Liberia, it has been harder to keep track of the days. I am amused to find that my computer claims that today is Friday. If someone had asked me a few minutes ago, before I checked the day to put it on the top of this journal entry, I would have said it was either Tuesday or Wednesday. The reason for this, I'm sure, is that I don't really write the date on a regular basis anymore. When I was home, I had to write it pretty much every day for work and school. I also have different schedules every day back home. Here, though, every day is the same, except Sunday. I don't really mind it. It's nice to not worry about the passing of time so much. I mean, I am aware that my time here is limited, but by not tracking it, I am able to enjoy it more.
Anyway, I've been working with Diana and studying A Thomas Jefferson Education. Diana has been getting frustrated with Art class. I think she feels like she's not getting better, but she really is. I've been trying to be encouraging, but I'm not sure how to help her feel better. I think the biggest problem is that she's comparing her work to mine, not to her own past drawings. In fact, I don't think that this is a problem unique to Diana. I believe that's what our church is about, that is, teaching people to progress in their own way at their own speed without trying to compare or outdo those around them.
Okay, this is kind of weird, but I've noticed, mostly at night, that there is this unusual sound here. At first, I thought it was someone breathing loudly, but that didn't really make sense because I was alone in my bedroom when I first noticed it. Then, naturally, I thought it was my imagination, or maybe the echo of my own breathing off the cement walls in my room. After a couple experiments involving holding my breath and listening for a long time, I ruled that out. I didn't really figure it out until I was reading the 7th Harry Potter book yesterday. There is a part that talks about the ocean and how it sounds like deep breathing. It was then that I realized it was the ocean I've been hearing. We're not really that close to it, so I didn't think of it at first, but it makes sense that, when everyone is quiet at night, the sound travels far in the humid air so that it sounds like really soft breathing when it reaches my room. It's a beautiful sound. I often lay awake listening to the sound. It's like the earth itself is sleeping.
I got tired of the younger girls running around with giant holes in their clothes, so I told them to bring me their ripped clothes so that I could sew them up. Today, I repaired a blue Roaring 20s style dress for Bintu. I must admit, I was worried. I am not exactly an accomplished seamstress. It turned out well enough, but not perfect. My mom always told me that I should practice sewing. I honestly never thought that there would be a time when I wouldn't be able to go buy new clothes when they get damaged. Back home, we are blessed to have DI so close to our home. We have access to new (or new to us) clothes all the time. Even starving students like me can afford to buy a new dress when our old ones wear out. We're spoiled! Still, like washing laundry by hand, repairing clothes is a skill we Americans should learn just to be on the safe side. So, my future children and grandchildren who might be reading this...I'm sorry if you, like me, hate sewing. Do it anyway.
I'm sitting in the van during my break writing in my journal. For some weird reason, all the kids decided that they wanted to get in the van, too. I really don't know what's so exciting about watching me write in my journal, but apparently it's thrilling. They're cute. I suppose they like to watch me type and it is raining, so perhaps they're just hiding from the rain. It's a good thing they're cute or I would be really annoyed really quickly. It's hard to focus on writing with half a dozen children talking loudly behind me.
Africa Journal August 8
8/21/2013
Okay, I'm finally going to quit sulking and continue writing my journal even though I lost the last month's worth of events when my computer was stolen. Here's what's been happening...
I met with Andy Jones in the airport in Salt Lake City. He introduced me to Jana Capps who would be working with me in Liberia. Our departures were close to the same time, but her trip was much faster, so she arrived the night before me. I arrived in Liberia on July 4th 2013. I believe there is still a digital version of the events of my journey from Salt Lake City to Monrovia somewhere in the world of Google's memory. Hopefully it won't take much effort to find it once I have regular internet access again.
My first couple of weeks in Liberia were full of adjustment. I had to grow accustomed to things like pumping water for my shower every morning, extremely spicy and limited food, and the ever-present giant spiders averaging around four inches wide. I did not, at that time, feel any desperate ache to return home. As I settled in, I spent many hours talking to my family, friends, and boyfriend back home. I also spent a lot of time getting to know Jana and the kids at the orphanage. There are eleven orphans and one five year old boy whose parents are the matron and patron of the orphanage, so he lives at the orphanage with them.
School didn't start for the kids immediately. Jana gave me a lot of books to read from to learn about the teaching methods she wanted me to use during my time here in Zuannah Town. She told me we would wait until Andy Jones arrived before starting a regular school schedule. I spent a lot of my time studying her books, and of course, reading, writing, and drawing for my own pleasure.
Andy arrived about a week after I did. He was, and probably still is, quite worried about me being happy here. I assured him over and over that I was quite well and happy, though eager to start working. Andy stayed only a few days. During that time, we didn't talk much. He was very busy, which was only to be expected considering the magnitude of the work he had to complete in such a short time.
The week after Andy's departure, Jana had finished planning a schedule for the children and I was ready to start teaching. The first few days, the kids were excited, but that didn't last long. The second week of school, we noticed a huge problem. The students wouldn't show up to class. We made it clear that we would not go out of our way to force them to come to school, but they were still expected to finish their homework, which they could only do by getting it from me after class (which they also didn't do). It was a very frustrating and disappointing time for me. Jana and I finally decided that any student with more than four absences would not be allowed to continue their education with me until they could prove that they have learned to be responsible. By the end of the week, all but one of the children had lost the privilege to attend class. That one, Diana, had missed only three classes and she had asked permission before hand so they were excused (she had been sick). In other words, she had no unexcused absences at all. Jana and I were impressed and felt that this behavior proved that she was responsible enough to continue her education. In the weeks that followed, I focused all my attention on Diana and she showed outstanding progress.
Around this same time, I had the opportunity to attend the baptism of two of our orphans, Princess and Jefferline. It was a wonderful experience, though Jana and I were amused that most of the people being baptized, including our girls, had put their jumpsuits on backward. There were no less than a dozen people being baptized that day. I have never in my life seen so many at one time. When I told Nathan about it later in an email (He's on his mission in Chile), he told me that they had been told that there are more baptisms happening in Africa than anywhere else in the world. I do not doubt it for a second.
After the baptism, my spiritual bubble was popped by the discovery that I had been robbed, though not badly. Someone had stolen my two pairs of headphones and five calling cards (they call them "scratch cards" here in Liberia). I didn't want to make a big deal out of it, but Jana and Rufus insisted that the kids needed to be punished until the real culprit was caught. Rufus decided to take the money from their allowance to pay for my lost items. I'm not sure I feel very good about that, but that was what was decided. Since then, there have been a lot of accusations, but no solid evidence or confessions.
Naturally, after that, I was much more aware of the weaknesses in the security of my bedroom. I became aware, for example, that two of the bars in one of my two windows were missing. I also noticed that one of the locks on that same window was broken. Obviously, the next time we all left the compound (which was for church) I locked both the windows and shutters on that broken window. It only barely occurred to me that anyone might be able to get in the other window. I considered it quite safe,
however, since it had solid bars, and the screen which was fitted with chicken-wire on top locked firmly in place.
Upon returning from church, I knew something was wrong. There was a whole about a foot wide in my window screen. I rushed into my room and discovered that my laptop, camera, and car adapter were missing along with the internet modem belonging to the home. I felt quite sick and instantly called Rufus for help. He had taken Jana to the clinic since she wasn't feeling well. He told me that he would get in touch with the police and Andy.
I spent most of that day crying and thinking of my loss. There were so many important things on that computer; pictures, writing, homework that I had hoped to save. I believe that a more detailed description of that day can be found in my hand-written journal, so I will not re-write it here. Needless to say, it was a really bad day.
That entire week seemed to be filled with really bad days. Jana returned from the clinic with the news that she had 2+ Malaria. Of course, she and I had no idea what that meant. Perhaps if she had known, she would have made arrangements to be sent home that day. By the next day, she could barely walk. Unfortunately for her, Rufus was in town dealing with the police and other things, so he could not take her to the hospital until late that evening. News came ahead of him that they had found the man that stole my things and he was in jail. That, however, needed to wait until Jana was taken care of.
The drive to the hospital was difficult. I hate hospitals because they always remind me of horrible things that I've had to deal with. I kept thinking of Nathan lying in the hospital covered in blood, my mom crying in pain barely able to speak after her surgery, Nina clutching her badly broken leg. Ugh! All I could do to keep these thoughts out of my head was to sing. I sang hymn after hymn nearly the whole drive. Once my throat was too sore to sing, I put my head down and cried.
It was late, near midnight, when we arrived at JFK Memorial Hospital in Monrovia. The doctor who spoke to us there was quite angry that the clinic doctors hadn't sent Jana strait to the hospital upon discovering she had Malaria. He said that Malaria can be fatal to those who have never been exposed to it before and 2+ Malaria is quite severe.
I called the one person I knew I could count on for comfort, my boyfriend Quass. He talked to me quite a while. Don't remember most of what he said, but I remember that it helped. He may be a strange character, but he is more in touch with the spirit than anyone I know, except perhaps BreeAnn. He knew right off what to say to help me feel better. He is an amazing man! I can't believe I got so lucky to have such a guy for a boyfriend.
Several hours later, we left Jana and headed home. The next day, we went back to talk to the police, then to visit Jana. I couldn't bring myself to brave the hospital two days in a row, so I waited outside while Rufus and Vick went in. The next day was the same, but I was feeling braver so I went to speak to Jana for a little while.
A week later, Jana was released from the hospital. She wasn't ready to go. She had had an allergic reaction to her medication, but the doctor had already discharged her and wouldn't re-admit her. She came back to Zuannah Town for a couple days, and then went home to receive higher quality care. It was really hard and a bit scary to see her go. I think I had gotten used to the idea that she would always be here to back me up if I ever needed her. More than that, it was comforting just to have another American around.
I moved into Jana's bedroom after she left. It made me feel safer since her windows are made differently and are much more secure than mine were. I continued to work with Diana. She memorized her times tables from 1 to 6 in just one week. I was so pleased with her! She has also made excellent progress in her writing and memorizing poems. I just wish I could get her to read more.
I was asked to teach Relief Society the week before Jana left. Jana didn't come because she was so sick, but I think that made it easier for me. The lesson went really well. I'm pretty sure I wrote about it in my other journal. Still I thought I should mention it. It was the first time I had ever taught Relief Society...or any church class other than that one time years and years ago I taught primary for one Mother's day so the moms could go to class with their husbands. Anyway, I had been really worried about not being able to understand what the sisters were saying to me. The language here has been quite a struggle for me. Still, with the reminder from Jana that God can grant us the gift of the interpretation of tongues, I had no trouble at all understanding the sisters. Our Heavenly Father is quite amazing!
Okay, I'm finally going to quit sulking and continue writing my journal even though I lost the last month's worth of events when my computer was stolen. Here's what's been happening...
I met with Andy Jones in the airport in Salt Lake City. He introduced me to Jana Capps who would be working with me in Liberia. Our departures were close to the same time, but her trip was much faster, so she arrived the night before me. I arrived in Liberia on July 4th 2013. I believe there is still a digital version of the events of my journey from Salt Lake City to Monrovia somewhere in the world of Google's memory. Hopefully it won't take much effort to find it once I have regular internet access again.
My first couple of weeks in Liberia were full of adjustment. I had to grow accustomed to things like pumping water for my shower every morning, extremely spicy and limited food, and the ever-present giant spiders averaging around four inches wide. I did not, at that time, feel any desperate ache to return home. As I settled in, I spent many hours talking to my family, friends, and boyfriend back home. I also spent a lot of time getting to know Jana and the kids at the orphanage. There are eleven orphans and one five year old boy whose parents are the matron and patron of the orphanage, so he lives at the orphanage with them.
School didn't start for the kids immediately. Jana gave me a lot of books to read from to learn about the teaching methods she wanted me to use during my time here in Zuannah Town. She told me we would wait until Andy Jones arrived before starting a regular school schedule. I spent a lot of my time studying her books, and of course, reading, writing, and drawing for my own pleasure.
Andy arrived about a week after I did. He was, and probably still is, quite worried about me being happy here. I assured him over and over that I was quite well and happy, though eager to start working. Andy stayed only a few days. During that time, we didn't talk much. He was very busy, which was only to be expected considering the magnitude of the work he had to complete in such a short time.
The week after Andy's departure, Jana had finished planning a schedule for the children and I was ready to start teaching. The first few days, the kids were excited, but that didn't last long. The second week of school, we noticed a huge problem. The students wouldn't show up to class. We made it clear that we would not go out of our way to force them to come to school, but they were still expected to finish their homework, which they could only do by getting it from me after class (which they also didn't do). It was a very frustrating and disappointing time for me. Jana and I finally decided that any student with more than four absences would not be allowed to continue their education with me until they could prove that they have learned to be responsible. By the end of the week, all but one of the children had lost the privilege to attend class. That one, Diana, had missed only three classes and she had asked permission before hand so they were excused (she had been sick). In other words, she had no unexcused absences at all. Jana and I were impressed and felt that this behavior proved that she was responsible enough to continue her education. In the weeks that followed, I focused all my attention on Diana and she showed outstanding progress.
Around this same time, I had the opportunity to attend the baptism of two of our orphans, Princess and Jefferline. It was a wonderful experience, though Jana and I were amused that most of the people being baptized, including our girls, had put their jumpsuits on backward. There were no less than a dozen people being baptized that day. I have never in my life seen so many at one time. When I told Nathan about it later in an email (He's on his mission in Chile), he told me that they had been told that there are more baptisms happening in Africa than anywhere else in the world. I do not doubt it for a second.
After the baptism, my spiritual bubble was popped by the discovery that I had been robbed, though not badly. Someone had stolen my two pairs of headphones and five calling cards (they call them "scratch cards" here in Liberia). I didn't want to make a big deal out of it, but Jana and Rufus insisted that the kids needed to be punished until the real culprit was caught. Rufus decided to take the money from their allowance to pay for my lost items. I'm not sure I feel very good about that, but that was what was decided. Since then, there have been a lot of accusations, but no solid evidence or confessions.
Naturally, after that, I was much more aware of the weaknesses in the security of my bedroom. I became aware, for example, that two of the bars in one of my two windows were missing. I also noticed that one of the locks on that same window was broken. Obviously, the next time we all left the compound (which was for church) I locked both the windows and shutters on that broken window. It only barely occurred to me that anyone might be able to get in the other window. I considered it quite safe,
however, since it had solid bars, and the screen which was fitted with chicken-wire on top locked firmly in place.
Upon returning from church, I knew something was wrong. There was a whole about a foot wide in my window screen. I rushed into my room and discovered that my laptop, camera, and car adapter were missing along with the internet modem belonging to the home. I felt quite sick and instantly called Rufus for help. He had taken Jana to the clinic since she wasn't feeling well. He told me that he would get in touch with the police and Andy.
I spent most of that day crying and thinking of my loss. There were so many important things on that computer; pictures, writing, homework that I had hoped to save. I believe that a more detailed description of that day can be found in my hand-written journal, so I will not re-write it here. Needless to say, it was a really bad day.
That entire week seemed to be filled with really bad days. Jana returned from the clinic with the news that she had 2+ Malaria. Of course, she and I had no idea what that meant. Perhaps if she had known, she would have made arrangements to be sent home that day. By the next day, she could barely walk. Unfortunately for her, Rufus was in town dealing with the police and other things, so he could not take her to the hospital until late that evening. News came ahead of him that they had found the man that stole my things and he was in jail. That, however, needed to wait until Jana was taken care of.
The drive to the hospital was difficult. I hate hospitals because they always remind me of horrible things that I've had to deal with. I kept thinking of Nathan lying in the hospital covered in blood, my mom crying in pain barely able to speak after her surgery, Nina clutching her badly broken leg. Ugh! All I could do to keep these thoughts out of my head was to sing. I sang hymn after hymn nearly the whole drive. Once my throat was too sore to sing, I put my head down and cried.
It was late, near midnight, when we arrived at JFK Memorial Hospital in Monrovia. The doctor who spoke to us there was quite angry that the clinic doctors hadn't sent Jana strait to the hospital upon discovering she had Malaria. He said that Malaria can be fatal to those who have never been exposed to it before and 2+ Malaria is quite severe.
I called the one person I knew I could count on for comfort, my boyfriend Quass. He talked to me quite a while. Don't remember most of what he said, but I remember that it helped. He may be a strange character, but he is more in touch with the spirit than anyone I know, except perhaps BreeAnn. He knew right off what to say to help me feel better. He is an amazing man! I can't believe I got so lucky to have such a guy for a boyfriend.
Several hours later, we left Jana and headed home. The next day, we went back to talk to the police, then to visit Jana. I couldn't bring myself to brave the hospital two days in a row, so I waited outside while Rufus and Vick went in. The next day was the same, but I was feeling braver so I went to speak to Jana for a little while.
A week later, Jana was released from the hospital. She wasn't ready to go. She had had an allergic reaction to her medication, but the doctor had already discharged her and wouldn't re-admit her. She came back to Zuannah Town for a couple days, and then went home to receive higher quality care. It was really hard and a bit scary to see her go. I think I had gotten used to the idea that she would always be here to back me up if I ever needed her. More than that, it was comforting just to have another American around.
I moved into Jana's bedroom after she left. It made me feel safer since her windows are made differently and are much more secure than mine were. I continued to work with Diana. She memorized her times tables from 1 to 6 in just one week. I was so pleased with her! She has also made excellent progress in her writing and memorizing poems. I just wish I could get her to read more.
I was asked to teach Relief Society the week before Jana left. Jana didn't come because she was so sick, but I think that made it easier for me. The lesson went really well. I'm pretty sure I wrote about it in my other journal. Still I thought I should mention it. It was the first time I had ever taught Relief Society...or any church class other than that one time years and years ago I taught primary for one Mother's day so the moms could go to class with their husbands. Anyway, I had been really worried about not being able to understand what the sisters were saying to me. The language here has been quite a struggle for me. Still, with the reminder from Jana that God can grant us the gift of the interpretation of tongues, I had no trouble at all understanding the sisters. Our Heavenly Father is quite amazing!
Africa Journal October 15
Today, I’ll be a siren. I’ll sing all day with my sisters beside me, and our voices will be indescribable. To hear us sing is to see visions of the heart’s deepest desires. I would promise men nothing, but they would come to me anyway, drawn by my song. I would not have to hide from them or pretend to be anything less than what I am. They would see that I am a monster, but they would come to me anyway because desire drives away fear and logic.
Yes, the men would come to me. I would see in their faces all the oppression of countless generations of innocent women. I would see their painful climb to equality, but I would know “equality” was a lie. The men will always be stronger. They will never understand how it feels to be sen as property, like a pretty trinket to be worn. They do not know the fear women live with knowing that any man could turn on her and take whatever she held most dear simply because she had not the strength to stop him.
I’d hear the words of women, strong willed and defiant, crying out for change. They would be educated and trained. Many individual battles would be won. Even whole nations of women would rise up from the shadows of men; gut even these victories, I could see, would do little more than blind sisters from the plight of the less fortunate of their sex who remain in bondage all over the world. All their cries would echo on the black, slick rocks of my domain.
The men would come, drawn by my song, the song that showed them their own selfishness. My sisters and I, we would never forget the crimes of the men. We would be their jury representing our sisters all over the world. No man that came would be found innocent.
The verdict being passed; now, we are the hangman. Death, in the name of the abused girls! Death, in the name of women trapped in ignorance! Death, in the name of working mothers bending under the weight that should belong to men! And death! In the name of the women who cry alone.
***
Okay, I don’t really want to kill men, but this prose does express some of my feelings about the way it feels to be a woman. It’s dangerous to be a woman in this world. We are forced to live in fear while men are free to explore where they will. Of course, there are women like me who refuse to be ruled by that fear, but that doesn’t mean the danger isn’t out there.
Men, if you’re reading this, protect the women in your life by giving them freedom; freedom from fear, freedom from doubt, from loneliness, and from weakness of mind and body. Especially protect them from themselves.
As much as we hate it, men, you have the greatest power over women. You have the power to bring a girl’s worst nightmares into reality. You also have the power to make all her sweetest dreams come true. Do not abuse your power, or me and my sister sirens will be coming for you.
Jacob 2:31-33
Yes, the men would come to me. I would see in their faces all the oppression of countless generations of innocent women. I would see their painful climb to equality, but I would know “equality” was a lie. The men will always be stronger. They will never understand how it feels to be sen as property, like a pretty trinket to be worn. They do not know the fear women live with knowing that any man could turn on her and take whatever she held most dear simply because she had not the strength to stop him.
I’d hear the words of women, strong willed and defiant, crying out for change. They would be educated and trained. Many individual battles would be won. Even whole nations of women would rise up from the shadows of men; gut even these victories, I could see, would do little more than blind sisters from the plight of the less fortunate of their sex who remain in bondage all over the world. All their cries would echo on the black, slick rocks of my domain.
The men would come, drawn by my song, the song that showed them their own selfishness. My sisters and I, we would never forget the crimes of the men. We would be their jury representing our sisters all over the world. No man that came would be found innocent.
The verdict being passed; now, we are the hangman. Death, in the name of the abused girls! Death, in the name of women trapped in ignorance! Death, in the name of working mothers bending under the weight that should belong to men! And death! In the name of the women who cry alone.
***
Okay, I don’t really want to kill men, but this prose does express some of my feelings about the way it feels to be a woman. It’s dangerous to be a woman in this world. We are forced to live in fear while men are free to explore where they will. Of course, there are women like me who refuse to be ruled by that fear, but that doesn’t mean the danger isn’t out there.
Men, if you’re reading this, protect the women in your life by giving them freedom; freedom from fear, freedom from doubt, from loneliness, and from weakness of mind and body. Especially protect them from themselves.
As much as we hate it, men, you have the greatest power over women. You have the power to bring a girl’s worst nightmares into reality. You also have the power to make all her sweetest dreams come true. Do not abuse your power, or me and my sister sirens will be coming for you.
Jacob 2:31-33
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