It’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas

Ahhhh Christmas time, mistletoe and wine (minus the mistletoe and wine unfortunately :p) I look outside my window and feel the sweat start to drip down my neck and I know it’s the Christmas season but it just feels all wrong. I should be choosing out a new set of gloves, gorging on gluten free mince pies and sitting on Father Christmas’s knee telling him what I want for Christmas (okay I got a little carried away with the latter but you understand) But you know what? I wouldn’t change being here right now for the world. I am surrounded by love, faith, happiness, beautiful children and a tremendous view of Kilimanjaro. What more could I want?

 My 3^rd and 4^th graders and I have began the process of transforming our classroom into a Christmas bonanza, with a lack of coloured paper, Christmas trees, tinsel and Christmas lights, we had to use our imaginations to create that Christmassy feeling.

Making salt dough christmas decorations. (so not gonna lie they all thought id brought in cookies so making decorations was a bit of a blow)

The finished product:

It’s less than a week until the big Christmas production arrrrghh! (Breathe holly breath) So writing and directing a production is a lot more work than I had anticipated. Along with the play you have to then think about the set, costumes, music and believe me they are a lot harder work in Africa. That is why I am so grateful to my other teachers for all pitching in and helping make the practice run so smoothly (just)

The children are great and are all super excited about the coming play. I have some real budding actors amongst the midst. Along with acting the children have got involved with all aspects of the drama such as painting the drop, making props, costume design and creating the Play’s Programme.

I love teaching drama and am too excited for the performance to take place. I had each child involved in the production to draw their character and then stuck them all together to create the front cover of the play’s programme. It turned out really cute.

In addition to making Christmas crafts at school, us teachers have been busy at home also. Making out house festive to the best of our abilities.

our christmas decorations cardboard and twigs. simples

nativity made from Banana leaves

twigs glued together in 

We also decided to bless all the other missionary’s out here with carol singing. We dressed complete with woolly hats (which resulted in a bucket full of sweaty hair) and candles (unlit, they are to precious in times of power cuts) and went one by one to each house and sang a medley of Oh come all ye faithful, a mash up of Away in a Manger English/American (yes there are 2 different versions) and ended with the crowd pleaser that is We wish you a Merry Christmas.

It was such a joyful Christmassy night, and the last house we went to invited us in for soup (shame it wasn’t actually cold as hot soup would have been so nice, I mean it was nice anyway but you know what I mean)

And then just as teachers do when the kids are away we all had an indoor water fight, it got rather messy but was refreshingly good and cooled us all down.

I will now leave you with a glimpse of the joy that I get to experience each and everyday.

Presents, chocolates and Christmas trees are nice but living in Tanzania with these kids and seeing them grow and smile every day (well most days depending on the amount of work I throw at them lol) is priceless. (Oh crickey I sound like the MasterCard adverts)

Thanksgiving a view from a Brit

Thanksgiving what to say… 

a time where you eat marshmallows on top of your potatoes, where you make crafts of the meat that you are going to eat before you even eat it, a day in which you think about what you are thankful for and the day after is a day in which you supposedly shop till you drop buying things on the cheap, a time where it is evidently acceptable to belch, fart and make other noises unknown to me up until now and a time for getting together with great friends and seeing everyone in the spirit of the holiday.

Making felt Turkeys with one of my students

I should clarify my mouth is not actually touching the Turkey

All in all I LOVE thanksgiving! 

All the more for celebrating it in Tanzania of course. So even though it is not an official English holiday I still woke up bright and early, unable to sleep from the excitement of a holiday and got dressed in my comfy thanksgiving clothes (stretchy trousers (oh my goodness I know your not meant to put a bracket within a bracket but I was just about to type pants in stead of trousers, the Americans are turning me) as I knew I would be eating a lot) and waited for everyone to wake up ready for our planned brunch.

Gluten free corn bread (tastes better than looks honest, and a lovely card from Melissa)

Unfortunately there is no Macy’s thanksgiving parade in Tanzania, so we settled for getting cosy (well as cosy as you can in 30+degree heat) in front of the film Miracle on 34^th street seen as it has the parade in it. We had a full day of preparing our dishes for out thanksgiving feast later on in the day. Well I say we but really I was a little too engrossed in the film but I was there with a helping hand when bowls needed licking or fudge needed test tasting.

my lovely housemates engrossed in the film

Other than brunch and my occasional nibbling I had saved myself for my feast, you only have your first thanksgiving once so I wanted it to go down with a bang aka bloated stomach. When I arrived at our host’s house I was not disappointed, there was food coming from every direction and I got a glimpse of the 100 US dollar Turkey before it got carved up. (yes I did say 100 dollars no idea why it was so expensive, when there’s food about don’t ask questions as I am too busy scoffing my face) Oh boy was it all delicious. 

Blooming expensive Turkey

 After my 4^th plateful I decided to pace myself to make room for pudding, (don’t want to be greedy or anything :p) Deserts are harder to find gluten free but my trusty housemates had cooked up delicious fudge and chocolate toffee so I was more than happy and satisfied. After a Christmas sing along and a cuppa thanksgiving was finally coming to a close.

Stuffing my face while I can

Opps I forgot to mention the best bit, just like they do in the movies, before we ate, we all went around the room and said what we were thankful for. It was so exciting. What was I thankful for? Well that would be telling, it might not be worth being thankful for if I tell. (Not sure if that’s exactly how it works but hey)

Choices

I reread my first blog post, and it really encouraged me. (Not to blow my own trumpet or anything: p) but it reminded me of the choice I made. I choose to LIVE my life, I choose to serve God and I choose to live a life that I would look back on and smile at.

I feel that this journey I have encountered on so far has been one of challenges, loneliness, learning more about who I am and experiencing new and exciting things.

I have learnt a lot about making the right choices recently. You have a choice weather you are sad, weather you are mad or weather you are glad (Pastor Show) you have to wake up and choose to me glad, because you are only ruining it for yourself if you are down or depressed. Yes, circumstances and difficulties are apparent and everyone has problems but you are letting the enemy win if you choose to dwell in these negative thoughts and feelings. Choose to be happy, to look at all the positives in your life. By all means I am not saying it is easy, personally I find it far from it, choosing to not listen to those little niggling lies in your head, that your rubbish, your life isn’t going anywhere, you’re not good enough and nobody likes you. 

I think back to my mum’s sermon on not listening to the lies that are in your head. She talked about Super Nanny the way that the parents would have to sit the child on the naughty step and when the child got up the parent would have to take the child back. This could sometimes happen for over an hour the first time it was tried. Every time the child would run off the naughty step, the parent would have to drag them back until they stayed sat down. Many parents would give up and describe how difficult it was, but the parents that didn’t give up later would describe how eventually the child would stay sat on the naughty step the whole time and with time would behave better. This is what we need to practice when we hear that niggling lie, that negative thought which makes us feel crap and worthless. We have to take that lie or thought to the naughty step, it may crop up again during the day but you gotta drag it right back over and over again. Eventually those lies will start to fade out, realising that they will just get put on the naughty step and realise there is no use or gain for there existence any more.

 

So back on track, that is what I have been practicing, it is easy to get in that mindset of I am worthless, nobody likes me and I am not good enough. But that is my choice to feel that way, it can be hard at times, but I have to make the choice to think I am worth something, some people do like me and I can be good enough. Don’t get me wrong no one is going to stop you from feeling that way, you can go through life feeling sorry for yourself, sulking in self pity and where will that leave you. Will you lead a happy life that you will look back on with a smile? Will you live the life you use to dream about? If not make the choice to change. Now!

This time last year my sister was in an eating disorder mental hospital ward for the 4^th time, barley 5 stones her life seemed doomed and recovery seemed like another mountain just too hard to climb. To see someone you love so much detiorate in front of your eyes, somebody so beautiful hurt themselves to a close death, somebody with so much potential locked up in hospital was horrendous. 

Like so many who suffer with eating disorders they sadly pass away, this was the path Harriett was on, with her organs shutting down, passing out and having no real control over her body. Unfortunately there was a rainy lonely afternoon when Harriett was ready to end it all. She had made up her mind and decided life was too hard with this illness over her. Something inside her decided to (at the last moment) call out desperately to God and at that moment there was a change inside her. Determination, love and a purpose for living filled her spirit and she made the choice to put her all into getting on the road to recovery. I couldn’t be prouder of my sister; the last 6 years have been tiring, dark, painful, frustrating and heart breaking to say the least. I look at her now, still recovering, but happy in whom she is, an amazing walk with god and doing what a 20 year old should be doing, enjoying life. So when you think your life is hard, depressing or not going anywhere, look at the choice Harriett made. Wherever you are in life there is always a choice to make. Make the right one.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uE55pRT991c&feature=share&list=ULuE55pRT991c

Harriett's Testimony

Hairrrr

Numb bottom, tight scalp, hair all over the floor, 3 films watched consecutively and a reflection that I don’t recognise. All the result of me sitting for 5 ½ hours whilst I get my hair braded, African style! Warning this post contains pictures that may scare, disturb or insult friends; family or African people (who actually suit this hair) so click the little (x) now or forever hold your voice.

So let me start from the beginning, well when I say beginning I mean I’m going to bore you with my whole morning leading up to the big hair experiment (as I will now be referring to it) So my housemate Bekah is heading North to Kenya for a week to visit her Dad (very jealous, just saying) and I offered to drive her to the bus station as her bus was setting off early. (How early I failed to realise) So my alarm went off bright and early (well not so bright as it was still dark) and I actually felt very awake. I was a little nervous about driving, I mean I have driven before in Africa but this would have been my first time in the busy town. After a big long prayer and the thought of a cup of tea waiting for me at home the journey to town and back was a great success.

After a morning full of planning my maths lessons and more cups of tea it was time to wash our hair (sorry did I forget to mention my housemate Melissa was also getting her hair done) we had to wash our hair before we got our hair done as we would not be able to wash it for 1 week to ensure the braids would stay in. But seen as we are in Africa the water ran out just as Melissa had put shampoo in her hair. Thankfully there was a little water left in the kettle from my last cup of tea, we then created our own shower over the sink to wash out the soap. I therefore had to run over to another Missionaries house in my pjs (okay so I could have changed but the thought of putting clean clothes on before I’ve washed doesn’t sit right with me) so anyway I turn up at their house and their daughter (who is a student in my class) was having birthday party and there was only half my class and older students from my drama class there all to whiteness me walk shamefully through them all clinging to my big fluffy towel and slippers, red faced and stinky. (But hakuna matattah)

So I was finally washed, dressed and ready for our hair stylist Tracy to arrive at 12.00. We put a film on ready 27 dresses (love it) the film started and finished and still no Tracy. So here we have something called African time, in England we are so use to everything being at a certain time and always have to be on time. Whersas in Tanzania everyone is so much more laid back and isn’t so caught up on timings. Therefore, when arranging something we say is that English/American time or African time, if the answer is the latter you usually allow and hour here or there. That’s why when Tracy turned up 2 hours late it wasn’t a massive deal. So here we go she starts to separate my hair out and there’s no going back now. 2^nd film has started and we are onto Sister Act 2.

The pain of my hair being done was something that I was not expecting. Ouch is all I can say. When ever I see a little African child with braded hair I am going to make sure I appreciate it so much more now knowing the pain they have gone through to have them done (unless I am just being a big baby and it doesn’t bother them at all). Tracy was such a laugh and I was able to practice my Swahili out on her (fyi I have been focusing a lot on learning my Swahili this week ever since the embarrassment of Megan speaking so much at Massai market, but ill save that for my next post)

For some reason it was taking longer than expected so Tracy called in reinforcements so we welcomed Margret in too.

Third film went on and this time it was Legally Blonde (Tracy’s favourite by the amount of laughing she was doing) I was able to only listen to this film as I had braids all covering my face and eyes. (Not gonna lie it got pretty sweaty underneath there)

The film went off and after my 6^th toilet break the braids were finished.

I looked in the mirror and could barley recognise myself.

I don’t love my hair but I don’t entirely hate it either. It has certainly been an experience and I am quite excited about feeling a little bit more African and eager to try out different hairstyles with it.