More Visitors (unwelcomed)

 It was one of those glorious, luxurious nights...the kind where you go to bed just glorying in the fact that the next morning you don't have to get up early and rush around trying to get children out the door to school. It was a Friday night so there were more people reveling in the fact they don't have to get up early the next morning. Loud music pulsated in the distance and people shouted back and forth to each other as the party dragged on into the night. This was becoming almost as common as birds chirping outside my window used to be and I was all but oblivious to the loud noises being carried in on the breeze through my open window. I read a good book till late before snapping off the light. Stretching out luxuriously on my foam mattress I recalled the first night I crawled into this bed and thought I would never be able to sleep on this thin piece of foam. No box springs, just boards held up this pitiful thing called a mattress. The bed was half the size and a quarter as thick as what I was used to sleeping on. It's amazing how fast a body can adjust though, and as I stretched out I thought, you know, this bed is really quite comfortable. I had almost entered dream land when all of a sudden I felt wide awake. I was really rather annoyed because, even if I can sleep later tomorrow, I'm done reading; now I want to sleep. I had dealt with some mild insomnia since we're here and I know the more you try  make yourself sleep, the more you can't. Oh well, whatever, I thought. So be it. I lay there for awhile and was somewhere betwixt reality and dreamland when I heard a few slight noises. Hmmm, I thought, I already had killed an annoying fly so I knew that pest was forever gone...maybe a lizard or a grasshopper? While both creatures are relatively harmless, I didn't exactly relish the thought of them using my head as their stomping grounds while I slept. I groggily rolled over and forced my sleepy eyes open. It took a few seconds for my brain to register what I was actually seeing. No fly. No grasshopper. No lizard, but a long, black arm reaching stealthily past me, mere inches from my head. I often wondered how I would  react to a situation where my instinct would be my first response. I always liked to think I would have perfect clarity of thought and with some quick action end up a hero. Well, now I know. No heroic action, but a scream that erupted from deep down inside of me; from a place I didn't even know existed within me. "AAAARRRRGGG!" I roared. "GET OUT OF HEEEERE!!!" As the dark figure quickly withdrew his hand and took off running, I rose up in my bed and pressed my face against the bars of our window and roared again at the hastily retreating figure, "Get OUT of HEEEEEERE! Leave my family alone!!" Really, I never in all my life, knew I could yell like that. I actually sounded quite manly! I sat back on my hunches, panting. My husband, rudely awakened from his sleep, looked bewilderingly at me, with eyes as big as coconuts. (I think he was trying to figure out if his wife totally lost it for good or if I was having a horrific nightmare.) "There was a man reaching in our window! His arm was inches from my face!" I explained. "It wasn't that I was that scared, I screamed more to get him running," I further explained. (I'm not even sure why I said that because when I got up to check the children my legs were that weak and shaky I could hardly stand on them.) Our headboard is right at the window and Chris didn't like that from day 1. All was quiet in the children's room and, after Chris removed the cement block our visitor used to stand on from outside our bedroom window, I settled in to rehash the events and all the things I could have done differently if I wouldn't have been taken so off guard. Option #1. Reach out and shake his hand and say, "How do you do?" Option #2. Grab his arm and hang on for dear life till Chris gets the gate unlocked and goes out to meet him or till he would call the police, whatever he would decide to do. Option #3. There was nothing on my nightstand to steal except Bible's and Christian books so I should have left him take the whole stack and maybe later under the moonlight he would sit and read his stolen literature and become saved. Maybe he would have become an evangelist and saved many souls and it would have all started with the "mustard seed" he stole off my nightstand.....

 Ok, picture time....

                                The boys helping Chris prop up the benches they use on
                                 the back of the truck.  They prop them up then
                                 Chris backs the truck partially underneath and then we
                                 huff and we puff till we get the whole contraption
                                  loaded the rest of the way up on the truck.

                             Carter was completely unimpressed with his sister's amazing
                                  talent of wearing sunglasses and goggles at the same time.

                                 The truckdriver in my husband couldn't believe this
                                  wide load was headed down the mountain with no
                                 escort and only one chain holding on the load.

                                                   

                            The children play more games together than they ever did.

                                 Chris working on the bike with a friend looking on.
                                 This boy knows he'll get a beating when he goes home
                                  so he tries to prolong the inevitable as long as he can.

                                A boy and his dog...if I ever saw a dog smile, this is it.

                                     The girls hung these self imposed rules in their bedroom.
                                    By the looks of the next two pictures they obviously don't
                                              have consequences for breaking them.....

                                                   By the looks of this room I should
                                            be embarrassed to post these pictures. I am.

                                       Another sign Kaylah made for her bedroom...I think she
                                       lives by this one far more than the one with the rules...

                                             I have learned quickly, the hard way, 
                                                 to not let food out uncovered...

I used to decorate with fake birds...

now I upgraded to the real thing

                                        Limes & LaBorie School's had a cross country
.                                           race/walk.  I went along to help supervise.

                                  Mr. David Fox won first place for his age category!

                                        All little boys like Lego's. These were well worth
                                        every inch of space they took up in a suitcase

A scrapbook made by Kaylah's classmates at Shalom was

a real highlight and day brightener for her! Jeff Brubaker

brought it down when he came down with a work crew.

She keeps this by her bed and looks at it often! 

Many thanks to them for thinking of her!

Visiting & Visitors...

 Last week I decided to visit Miss *Susan, a dear lady that attends our church. I had met her twice before, the first time at church and then again after she was admitted to the hospital for a blood clot in her leg. After I heard she was discharged from the hospital but needs to take it easy for a few weeks I thought this would be a good time to visit her at her house. I was never there before but after asking around I got a general idea of where she lives. It was quite the walk...about a mile uphill. I was stopped on the way up by a young fellow asking why we wear "the black thing on our head", dresses and what the Mennonites believe and how our beliefs compare to Pentecostal, Jehovah Witness's, Catholic and Rasta. After explaining things to the best of my ability I continued my upward climb. Up and up and up...until I got to the point where the main road makes a sharp left. This was the place where I was told it is soon after that turn and I should, "just ask someone, they'll tell you." I saw a few people milling around and called out, "G' mornin'! Do you know where Miss Susan lives?" "Yes! Yes!" They all tried to tell me at once where she lives but one man's directions seemed the easiest to follow so I decided to listen to him. "Go past the yellow house on the left and the next house is hers. The green and white one. On the left." Sounded easy enough so I headed on up past the yellow house on the left and, sure enough, there's the green and white one. "Hello! G' morning!" I called out after seeing her sitting out on the front porch shelling pigeon peas. I headed up her steps and opened the gate and left myself in. After she declined my offer to help with peas I settled comfortably on the veranda wall resting my tired back against the post with my aching legs stretched out in front of me. It was a beautiful view from her veranda and I made myself right at home. "So, how are you feeling by now? How's your leg?" I asked, noticing she still was using a walking stick. "Oh, pretty good, but after that fall 2 weeks ago it's been acting up again," she said as she gingerly rubbed the offending knee. "So when did you come home from the hospital?" I asked. "Oh my, let me think", she replied, " I don't exactly remember! The older you get the harder it is to remember things!" I didn't tell her but I did notice she aged considerably since her hospital stay. Instead I assured her even at my age we forget things! We chatted comfortably about the beautiful view from her veranda, family, weather, recipes and faith. She talked and talked and talked. I listened and through the course of conversation she revealed to me she is 88. I about fell off my wall to the concrete drive a good 15' below. There are numerous people on this island that have shocked me with their ages but this one topped all. The first time I saw Miss Susan I would have guessed her to be in her 70's, at the most. Must be the tropical weather, I concluded. She had a bandana covering all her hair this time but I did see a few stray gray hairs escaping. After chatting a good half hour I decided it's time to head south. I gave her a good-bye hug and she clutched my hand tightly and said, "It was so good visiting with you! My name's Josephine. What's yours?" It's a good thing I wasn't sitting on the wall at this point or I would still be laying on the driveway below. I tried to hide my surprise and said, "Yes, it was good visiting with you too!" I didn't tell her I thought she was someone else. (Here is where I'll insert my feeble excuses for my mistake.)
Excuse #1. I did think something looked different about her but when I visited her in the hospital I thought the same thing, I concluded her medical condition was taking a toll on her.
 Excuse #2. After visiting with the "correct" Miss Susan I found out this lady is her great-aunt so maybe there was some resemblance?
Excuse #3. This lady had a sore leg too...
 Excuse #4. She had a bandana covering all of her hair so I couldn't see her hair color.) And I guess God knew she must have needed a friend that morning that I made the mistake and visited the "wrong" person.
I headed out her drive and, wouldn't you know, a few houses down there was a yellow one and, you guessed it! The next house was a green one....
*Name changed  
 Ok, here's some pictures...some are a few weeks old already...

I almost could forget I'm in Grenada with all these familiar faces. Thanks Angie, for getting married and giving these people a good reason to head south. I know you did it all for me...

                          Lauren & Nick went to school one day with the
                         children which was a real highlight for them!

                         Miss Janisa, all bright & colorful. This day they were celebrating
                         Independence Day. The students all wore colors of the Grenadian flag.

                          Carter loves basketball, or any sport, for that matter. Here he
                          is playing with some of the students and Mr. Coutain and Mr. Moses.

                                                And he even managed to score!

                               This is what Michelle thought of octopus. I don't think
                             her mother will need to put it on her grocery list anytime soon...

                                       Just hanging out

The reason for the (wedding) season. I didn't get lots of pictures
 for some reason. Probably because I hated to make them pose for one more picture....

I was telling someone how the Grenadian children will take as many bags of snack mix and lollipops as they can get from the punch table. No sooner were the words out of my mouth when I turned around and saw my Grenadian American son with snack bags and lollipop papers littered around him. Sigh...had me a large slice of humble pie...

         

                                       Chris was glad for Dwight's help this week.
                                     Here they are making a platform for crusades.

                                   Lauren celebrated her 13th birthday in
                                  Grenada. Kaylah decorated a cake for her

                               We played lots of games this week. Hopefully they
                               didn't cause any permanent marital stress...(Krista?)

                          

                                       

                              Some pics from another week...

 I invited Celina and her brother Keondra inside to bake one Friday afternoon. As a general rule the children are not allowed inside our house without permission. One of the first days I found Celina wondering through our house and, on the advise of others, told her she needs to ask permission before she comes inside. She steps outside the doorway and says, "Ok, may I come in now?" Ummm, not really what I had in mind. While we certainly want our children to interact with the Grenadian children we do want them to have a place to go if they feel the need to "get away." So anyway, I told Celina we will set a date to do some baking together. She was thrilled and Friday couldn't come soon enough for her.

Celina mixing the cookies. I needed to remind her to keep the hand mixer in the bowl after having cookie batter sprayed over my microwave and surrounding areas.

This scene unfortunately is not as peaceful as it looks. I made the grave mistake of telling Kaylah she cook bake on Friday too, thinking, mistakenly, that her and Celina would work together at baking cookies. Instead it was a real power struggle with who gets to do what and this pan is mine and this pan is yours, ect. Sigh!

                          Trying to relight the oven. It goes out about every 10 minutes:(

This picture doesn't look as funny as it really was. Kaylah baked "her pan" of cookies first and offered some to the men. The whole pan disappeared within seconds. Celina got "her pan" out offered some of hers to the men. They looked excited till they saw the underbaked lumps of warm dough. Dan bravely got a glob and ate it, I believe more for Celina's sake than his own:)

 

This game gets played alot

And that's all for now! We are going to a "wake" (funeral) tonight. That will be another new experience. Thank you for all the prayers and support. It means so much!

               

                                                    

Ramblings & revenge...

Dearly beloved, ....vengeance is mine; I will repay, saith the Lord. Romans 12:19b...No, this post is not about a great evil done to us and we are waiting for the Lord to exact His justice on the perpetrator. Rather, it is about my husband and the verse I do believe he has claimed as his personal promise from God to him...regarding me. Let me explain. Back in the States, back in the good old days, back when I used to have the freedom to drive anywhere, anytime, my husband used to frequently comment (complain) about my less-than-stellar driving abilities. Now, before you get the wrong idea and think I was a horrid driver, I really wasn't. I would bring up my near perfect driver's record anytime I felt the need to defend myself. And, I usually didn't get the opportunity to display my driving abilities to him unless he got home from work late and there were shoes to be put on on the way or maybe a plate of supper to be eaten. Which, of course, meant we were probably already running late, which, of course, isn't a real good time to display any proper driving techniques. I have to wonder why, after 15 years of marriage, he wouldn't have learned to not try to eat on the way with me driving. If  he didn't get indigestion from the stress of sitting in the passenger seat he sure didn't get much eaten between mutterings such as,

 "You know, tailing the car in front of you isn't gonna make the whole string of traffic go faster". yea, but maybe the car in front of me will get the hint to speed up alittle and move closer to the car in front him and that car will get the hint and, well, you get the picture...or,

 "That was NOT a complete stop at that stop sign!" All but!

 "Did you see that caaaaaar? yes, dear, of course I did, that's why I stepped on it...

 and, my personal favorite...(no, not his, mine:))
  The time he was talking to a customer on his phone and we approached a traffic light. Here again, we differ. My philosophy is to wait to apply the brakes until I deem absolutely necessary, especially if the light has been green for awhile and is in danger of turning yellow on me. Now, less you are picturing me losing my Christian testimony by wildly screeching through a near red light, it's not so. With the valuable seconds I gained prior to braking I now have enough time to slow down and ease my way through the traffic light, Christian testimony still intact. Again, I think he would know this by now. But anyway, this particular time he's busy wheeling and dealing with a customer on the phone and I approached the upcoming traffic light in my customary way. This time he is so horrified he became speechless and instinctively stomped an imaginary brake pedal clear to the floor. (on the passenger's side, that is). Only after his customer said, " Chris, are you there yet? Can you here me yet? Hmmm, did we get cut off?" did he come back to earth and reply, "Uh, yes. Yes, I'm still here"...while shooting me less-than- loving glances. By the way, I DID stop at that red light. I guess from previous episodes he thought I was gonna sail through it. Poor guy, being a trucker, and having had his livelihood depend on his driving makes him an extra cautious driver.
  Anyway, fast forward to this day and age on the little island of Grenada...
 Like I said before I can't drive here so I need to depend on him for most of my transportation needs. That's ok, but let me explain Grenadian driving. In Grenada everyone drives on the left side. That alone is enough to disorient me. But also, the driver and passenger sides are switched, as well as the turn signal and windshield wiper lever. The first time I went away with him, which coincidentally was the first day he was driving, I promptly started to jump into the passenger's side until he reminded me that is actually the driver's side. We headed out through and he put his turn signal on to signify which way we are turning, and the wipers blades start going. Oops. Wrong lever. Truly, the way people drive in Grenada makes my driving look good. Yellow lines are nonexistent and after seeing how they drive I realized they would be a futile waste of paint anyway. They pretty much drive in the middle of the road unless you see another vehicle coming. Around turns, in the middle of the road, no big deal, you just toot your horn to let oncoming traffic know you're headed around the corner. And, it's THEIR fought if you blew your horn and they didn't get over. Around here, it's not impolite to blow your horn, but considered rude and dangerous if you don't. There are also alot of people walking beside or, more likely, on the road. All this to say I was a nervous wreck driving with Chris the first time. Not that he wasn't a good driver but this time it was me saying,

 At a red light that's at the side of a building, not where a light would customarily be located, "Did you see that red light???!!!!" Yes, I remembered it was there from the last time we drove through here.

 "Do you see that lady walking on the road???!!!" as a  truck comes flying from the other direction...no response, but a white knuckled clasp of the steering wheel....

"You do know there's a steep drop off here and no guard rail, right???" as I peer anxiously out my window and directly down the cliff...yea, I know, kinda dangerous, right?

 "Don't you think you should get over alittle more on your side of the road?" as we round a turn...that's why I tooted my horn.." 

 That traffic light's REEEEED!" yea, but we're turning and that little green arrow on the other signal is green..."oh."

And most vehicles down here are European style with the driver on the right side but the mission truck is American style with the driver on the left side. That's all fine and dandy except where does that put me, his passenger? Yup, in the middle of the road with cars whizzing by seemingly inches from my right side. Traumatizing enough to give me gray hair in just one trip...

Or the time we were looking for a parking space...we were thinking about just parking at the side of the road but he decided to drive to the top of the hill to see if there is a better spot at the top. Only after we got the top and turned around and headed back down again did he look at me and say, "You know what? I just drove up that hill on the right side." I guess old habits die hard...especially when he's somewhat distracted. Thankfully nothing was coming the other direction!

 Yes indeed, I now can empathize with him and scary passenger experiences

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Empathy
Definition	Understanding what others are feeling because you have experienced it yourself or can put yourself in their shoes.

                    Business administrator in training. Dan Burkholder has been great
                 at showing Chris the ropes. He had been filling in till we got here.

                               Cottage meeting one Wednesday evening. There were
                                visitors from Canada here at this time.

                                   Trying to stay one step ahead of those nasty mosquitoes!

                                                 Just a random shot of Carter showing
                                                 off his candy from his dear Grandma

                               Some visitors that stopped by for a drink of water or out
                               of curiosity or something....I don't really remember

                               This was taken about 2 weeks ago but the scars remain:(

 No, he's not a malnourished child trying to scrape the last remains of precious food out of a near empty dish. He had been begging for snow ice, the Grenadian equivalent of a popsicle, since the first day of school. He came home from school and said the students are sucking something sweet out of a bag and he wants some too. He got a piece of finger jello and wrapped it in a plastic baggie and slurped it out. I don't know if he thought anything he puts in a baggie would magically turn sweet or what. I finally got some made and it's a perfect after school snack.

                                    Was glad I had my camera handy for this quick shot.

 The children's new play house/hideout underneath our house. I try not to think of the 2' snake and 3 centipedes Chris killed behind our house. A centipedes sting is worse than a scorpion's...or so I'm told. I don't want to ever find out. And no, the toilet doesn't work:)

                                                   The entrance to their "den"

                   Fresh orange juice coming up...anyone want to try some? 
                 Get away  from  all that  ice and snow and come on down!:)

                                         Loved this sticker on one of the bus's windows

I started this post over a week ago but it remained dormant this long because of more important things like weddings and friends and fun. I will post more on that later.....
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Of happiness, hospitals and hurriedness...

What brings happiness? Is it being at the perfect place at the perfect time? Is it some state on the globe or a state of mind? Circumstances or attitude? If I can't find happiness here would I find it elsewhere? These questions are rolling through my mind as I struggle to come up with answers for my daughter. Before we moved here she couldn't WAIT to move to Grenada! Surely Grenada would take care of all the perplexities of life. Now that we are here, any issues that come along would surely be non-existent if we still lived in the states. I tell her she needs to learn to be content where she is at. Even Paul said, "I have learned in what ever state I'm in therewith to be content." (Phil 4:11, slightly paraphrased) Ok, so maybe Paul wasn't talking about location here but a state of mind. Therein lies the answer. It is obviously a frame of mind.  Grass is always greener on the other side of the globe. I need to remind myself too, that it is not what area we live in but what attitude I have toward any circumstances God brings into my life.
 Today the children had off of school. I decided this would be a good time to get the focus off of us and on someone else, which usually takes care of the greener grass syndrome. There is a private hospital with in walking distance so we (Kaylah, Christi & I) packed some snacks and books thinking it would be fun to visit some of the patients and read to some of the children. I also had some ulterior motives. I have always enjoyed the hands on care of a being a CNA and was hoping that maybe I could volunteer there sometimes till school is out for the summer. I am so excited!...they said they would be happy for my help and I will start out doing that one day a week. We decided on Wednesdays and she said if that day doesn't work some weeks, just call and say which day would. I will follow the doctor and she will tell me what needs to be done. Some days are really busy there and some days there are not many patients. After I got that arranged we headed up to the second floor to see who we could find to visit with. Amazingly, they had no in-patients at this time. The nurse said that is pretty unusual. There were quite a few outpatients but none that we could really visit with, so there went our grand plan...or plan B...we could bus into Grande Anse to the public hospital. I never bused by myself before but we decided, what the world, lets give it a try! We flagged down the next bus that came along and climbed aboard. Unfortunately, after a mile or so we figured out this bus is taking the long way into Grand Anse...we sailed past our house and Chris was outside working. We tried in vain to get his attention as we sailed passed because I knew it would be quite a bit later till we get home and I had no cell phone to call him and let him know. Even if I could have borrowed someone's phone, I didn't even know his new number. Thankfully another bus was coming down the mountain and our driver was nice enough to let us off his bus and jump on that one. So now we had the second chance to try to catch Chris's attention, but again, he was too engrossed in his work to notice the 3 white heads bobbing up and down in the bus amongst a sea of dark ones. We made it safely to Grande Anse and after a 10 minute walk found the hospital. Unfortunately, children under 12 couldn't visit patients there. Another dead end. Christi thought we really should stay in Grenada till she's 12 so she can visit in that hospital...and Kaylah continued to rub it in to her that in a few months SHE will be 12 and allowed to visit. Sigh. We headed back to the bus station and found a bus that looked almost full. (A tip from Ginger. That way you don't need to sit in a hot bus waiting for it to fill) I looked in one of them and backed away after seeing it was full. In a split second the driver's assistance was there telling us," Yes! yes! there is room!" I looked in again and saw the back seat was full but they could pull 2 side seats down so we decided to board. He motioned for one of us to sit in the back seat with the 3 men that were already sitting there. I assumed he meant Christi since there was only about a 6" space between them. I was trying to get Christi quickly past me in the bus because everyone's waiting to go. "No! No! You! You sit there!," the assistance said urgently. What? That's like trying to fit a square peg in a round hole! I'll never fit! I thought. At this point I was trapped though because Kaylah and Christi had boarded and were behind me. Oh my! With no other options I ungracefully turned my body around in the teeny amount of room I had and began my slow descend onto the seat hoping God would part the men like He did the Red Sea or I would surely end up on one of their legs. By the way, these weren't the cleanest looking men either. They all had that dirty homeless look. My aim was pretty good and I managed to hit the center of the small space and with a little wiggling on everyone's part I managed to secure my tight seat. This "bus" is smaller than a van and we had 23 people crammed in if that tells you anything on how tight it was. We did survive though and managed to make it home in one piece:) If nothing else, we made some memories!

 

The private hospital where I will volunteer 

 

An ambulance parked there

 Some beautiful scenery we saw on our travels

An ambulance at the General Hospital

General Hospital

                                Posted at the General Hospital's front entrance. I think the States
                                                      would do well to post this some places too!

                                                       General Hospital

One of our bus rides..excuse Christi's cheesy grin...she 

thought she's smiling for the camera:)

Ok, so much happiness and hospitals...now for the hurriedness...

 

This is a picture of our post office. You might wonder how this has anything to do on being in a hurry...the story starts the previous day. I had made 3 trips to the post office...each time he was closed. He should have been open but, for whatever reason, he wasn't. The next day I was planning to tackle some mending and sewing. Since I was so wise I brought down my sewing machine as a carry on bag on the airplane. It weighed exactly 22 lbs., exactly what the weight limit is on a carry-on bag. Since I was so unwise, my foot pedal is at home yet, packed in a suitcase awaiting transportation down. So anyway, one of the teacher's said I can borrow hers till my foot pedal makes its way down. So after walking the children to school I went to her house to get it and lugged the heavy thing the almost a mile walk home. I sat down eager to get some sewing done since I promised her I'd have it back for her by 2:30. It didn't take me long to discover it was missing the bobbin. Since I needed that to sew I headed back to her house to retrieve the missing object. On the way, I pass the post office...and, guess what!!! He's open! Not wanting to pass up this golden opportunity I swung in to get the mail. He was with another customer at the moment so I waited about 5 minutes then had the brainy idea to run down and grab the bobbin and pick up the mail on my way back. So I told him I'll be back in a few minutes, I just need to run grab something. He smiled and snickered and said," Yea, you're from the States! Yea, I can tell! Yup! Always in a hurry! Yea, that's how they are from there!" He's a very nice guy and I could tell he felt very proud of himself for correctly analyzing how these Americans operate. I felt somewhat smitten as he quickly dug around to collect our mail so I could be on my merry way. I really wasn't trying to rush him, I was just trying to make good use of my time! 

Anyway, things are different down here. The other day Chris made an appointment at the bank because they needed to add his name to an account. He first went to one bank where they told him he has to make an appointment at another bank and all 3 other men whose name is on the account need to be there too. The next day they all went to the bank where they waited an hour and a half before they were told that the other 3 men didn't need to be there and Chris heard her mutter under her breathe, " And they could have did this at the other bank!" Oh well, Chris didn't mind having the company while they waited:) 

                                Chris made a shelf for our bathroom and a stand for towels.
                                The children had fun helping to paint it.
                                They were pretty proud of their work:)

And, of course, they had to have a crazy picture too!:)