The good thing about having a blog is that it gives you lots of accountability. Who knew that my laziness in not going to the dentist for years would spark such outrage, such sorrow, such a call to action? But never fear, blog readers, mainly Jessie, - you spoke up and I listened. I went to the dentist today! Don't ask me what his name was - it was very hard to understand and pronounce. I don't think his employees know what his name is either. One of them sort of tried to say it and dropped off mid-syllable and just skipped to her question instead. It sounded Dr. Krossenmaxamillion or something.
But regardless that I don't know his name, he was very kind and his minions have already coerced me into setting an appointment for six months from now to get my teeth cleaned again. They're a clever bunch at this office. No hiding my delinquent dentist past from them. They're not afraid.
It's good to have teeth because then you can eat. I suppose you can probably eat without teeth but it's not as enjoyable. Babies eat without teeth, but they don't really know what they're missing since they've never had teeth before and by the time they're old enough to figure it out, they have teeth.
Babies and eating are a good segue into something Erika suggested I write about some weeks ago, and that is the subject of why do people say things like "that baby is cute enough to eat." We all do it - I remember when loyal reader Meagan shared with our small group that she was pregnant and she said she couldn't wait to nibble on her baby's toes. There's just something about babies that make us want to eat them, and it's kind of weird.
Maybe it's just because I've been thinking about this subject of why we think that when babies are cute they ought to be eaten, but I found myself saying it just the other day about a small child in my neighborhood. I was driving home and this little girl was walking down the sidewalk in front of her house. She had on cute little pink pants and a cute little pink shirt and these little pink sunglasses that were lopsided on her face. She was all sassy and cute at the same time and when I drove by I said to myself, "She's so cute I could just eat her up." And then I gasped in horror! I wanted to eat an innocent child because she was cute! This is not ok!
Eating people is no laughing matter. If you don't believe me, just watch the movie Alive, although it's not for the faint of heart. I watched it once and was so appalled that I had to watch it a second time. I've been thinking a lot about it recently again, but I think I'll refrain from watching it a third time. If you've never seen it, it's about a Uruguayan soccer team whose plane crashes in the Andes mountains and they end up having to eat each other to stay alive. Hence, why the title is Alive. It's based on a true story because you can't make stuff like this up.
I've been thinking about it because I've flown over the Andes mountains four times in the last four months. Fortunately, none of my planes crashed and I didn't have to eat anything except the little sandwich snack they offered onboard, which was made out of turkey. But every time our plane passed over those peaks, I thought of those soccer players and how awful it would be to find myself in that position. I bet that little neighborhood girl is glad she wasn't on the plane with me and that we're not Uruguayan soccer players.
The other phrase I don't understand is akin - "eat your heart out." No thanks. I'd rather eat the little neighborhood girl because she's so cute than eat my own heart. That's too Indiana Jonesy and the Temple of Doom to me.
My conclusion is this: English must be a hard language to learn. Probably all languages are really hard to learn, but as far as I know, I've never heard any Spanish speakers talk about eating cute babies. At any rate, Rosetta Stone hasn't taught me how to say that phrase yet. And that's probably for the best.
At least my teeth are clean.
Monday, October 24, 2011
Saturday, October 8, 2011
Estoy en Peru
Hola amigos! Estoy en Peru ahora!
I'm sitting in the Lima Airport waiting for the rest of the Lifetree Adventures team to arrive, drinking a white chocolate mocha from Starbucks and acting very American. I'm actually sitting at the exact same table that Jeff, Christina, Ryan, Amy, and I sat at on the day we left Lima back in June. I'm nostalgic that way.
I wish I could say my Spanish has dramatically improved in the last three months, but dramatic would be an overstatement. I'm far from fluent and get confused very easily. However, I have managed to live most of the last 12 hours pretty much only using Spanish, which is an exciting thing. I've been able to avoid taxis, walk to the hotel, check into the hotel, sleep, eat breakfast, get a massage, ask how to connect to the internet, check out of the hotel, walk back to the airport, ask Peruvian Airlines where the heck the flight was that my friends were supposed to arrive on, and order a grande white chocolate mocha from Starbucks all in Spanish.
Mostly I just nod and say si and then things magically happen around me. Like just now, my lunch appeared that I apparently ordered in Spanish.
Also, I've decided I might love Peru almost as much as I love Canada only because on my flight down here yesterday I sat next to this Peruvian guy who now lives in Oklahoma but was on his way to visit his mother and he made my day. He asked me what I was going to do in Peru and I briefly told him and we then had the most awesome conversation about God that I've had in awhile. And by "conversation" I mean that he spent about 45 minutes telling me what he believes about God and the ways he has been hurt by church and Christians but that he really wants to still believe in God. It was an honor to get to listen to him and ask him questions and be his friend.
Then he told me I was lovely, which was kind of him, and that I shouldn't wait around long for guys who can't make up their minds because I'm lovely and kind and someone will see that someday and make a wife out of me. This is what I love about Spanish speaking cultures - they are very frank and don't hold much back. He's married and he was definitely not hitting on me, but there's just a general way of uncensored speaking that I love and appreciate about Spanish speakers. Sometimes it's nice for a single and sometimes lonely girl to hear a man tell her she's lovely.
But the best moment was when we started talking about part of Lima called Miraflores. I said the word "Miraflores" to him and he busted out laughing. This was the first Spanish word I had said to him in the whole 6 hours we had been sitting next to each other. I asked him why he was laughing and if I had said the word wrong and he said, "No, no, no - you said it perfect. Your accent is perfect - I just wasn't expecting you, a white American girl, to have a perfect Spanish accent." Then he said it with a bad American accent and said "That's how most Americans would say it."
So I'm grateful to be here and grateful that God put he and I next to each other for 6.5 hours yesterday. I usually don't talk much to people on airplanes but I'm glad for the conversation that was had and the way God used it to encourage me and hopefully to encourage him.
Please be praying for us this week - for health, for safety, for my Spanish abilities, for humility, for productive work to be done. Pray for Ricardo and his family and the ministry he does among the Shipibo people and for the visit to Flor de Ucayali village that we will make on Wednesday.
Please also be praying for the Cox family. Derek went home to be with Jesus this morning. There is never anything easy about death even when we know that the one we love is whole and perfect in God's presence now. I'm grateful for the amazing witness Derek was to Jesus throughout his battle with cancer but grieved that we have temporarily lost this brother for the rest of our earthly lives.
I'm sitting in the Lima Airport waiting for the rest of the Lifetree Adventures team to arrive, drinking a white chocolate mocha from Starbucks and acting very American. I'm actually sitting at the exact same table that Jeff, Christina, Ryan, Amy, and I sat at on the day we left Lima back in June. I'm nostalgic that way.
I wish I could say my Spanish has dramatically improved in the last three months, but dramatic would be an overstatement. I'm far from fluent and get confused very easily. However, I have managed to live most of the last 12 hours pretty much only using Spanish, which is an exciting thing. I've been able to avoid taxis, walk to the hotel, check into the hotel, sleep, eat breakfast, get a massage, ask how to connect to the internet, check out of the hotel, walk back to the airport, ask Peruvian Airlines where the heck the flight was that my friends were supposed to arrive on, and order a grande white chocolate mocha from Starbucks all in Spanish.
Mostly I just nod and say si and then things magically happen around me. Like just now, my lunch appeared that I apparently ordered in Spanish.
Also, I've decided I might love Peru almost as much as I love Canada only because on my flight down here yesterday I sat next to this Peruvian guy who now lives in Oklahoma but was on his way to visit his mother and he made my day. He asked me what I was going to do in Peru and I briefly told him and we then had the most awesome conversation about God that I've had in awhile. And by "conversation" I mean that he spent about 45 minutes telling me what he believes about God and the ways he has been hurt by church and Christians but that he really wants to still believe in God. It was an honor to get to listen to him and ask him questions and be his friend.
Then he told me I was lovely, which was kind of him, and that I shouldn't wait around long for guys who can't make up their minds because I'm lovely and kind and someone will see that someday and make a wife out of me. This is what I love about Spanish speaking cultures - they are very frank and don't hold much back. He's married and he was definitely not hitting on me, but there's just a general way of uncensored speaking that I love and appreciate about Spanish speakers. Sometimes it's nice for a single and sometimes lonely girl to hear a man tell her she's lovely.
But the best moment was when we started talking about part of Lima called Miraflores. I said the word "Miraflores" to him and he busted out laughing. This was the first Spanish word I had said to him in the whole 6 hours we had been sitting next to each other. I asked him why he was laughing and if I had said the word wrong and he said, "No, no, no - you said it perfect. Your accent is perfect - I just wasn't expecting you, a white American girl, to have a perfect Spanish accent." Then he said it with a bad American accent and said "That's how most Americans would say it."
So I'm grateful to be here and grateful that God put he and I next to each other for 6.5 hours yesterday. I usually don't talk much to people on airplanes but I'm glad for the conversation that was had and the way God used it to encourage me and hopefully to encourage him.
Please be praying for us this week - for health, for safety, for my Spanish abilities, for humility, for productive work to be done. Pray for Ricardo and his family and the ministry he does among the Shipibo people and for the visit to Flor de Ucayali village that we will make on Wednesday.
Please also be praying for the Cox family. Derek went home to be with Jesus this morning. There is never anything easy about death even when we know that the one we love is whole and perfect in God's presence now. I'm grateful for the amazing witness Derek was to Jesus throughout his battle with cancer but grieved that we have temporarily lost this brother for the rest of our earthly lives.
Saturday, October 1, 2011
So we meet again, malaria pills
I'm going to Peru on Friday for the second time this year and I'm really excited about it. Partly because I'm hoping my Spanish is way better than it was in June (Segundo will tell me straight if it is or not) but mostly because our team will get to take a fast boat into the jungle in the middle of the week and go visit Flor de Ucayali, the Shipibo village we stayed at in June when we lived on the riverboat when there were more of us and we were building a church. This time around, we'll spend most of our time in Pucallpa, helping to repair a home for a needy family and sharing God's love with them, and they will be sharing it with us too.
But the not fun part of going back to Peru is that I get to welcome my old friend malaria pills back into my life for the next 10 weeks. I took the first one today. It would have only been six weeks except that then I go to the Dominican Republic while I'm still taking the Peru pills and my doctor thought since I'm already taking them, what's another four weeks to cover my DR trip as well. Awesome.
As I discovered the last time I took them, I am apparently one of the only people in the world who actually experiences their side effects. My June team had no issues with their pills, other than Jim not being able to remember if he had taken his for the day or not, resulting in lots of time spent counting pills every morning. Maybe it's because all of them took the daily malaria pill but I take the once a week pill, because I'm special. At least that's what my doctor says.
What side effects, you might ask. Well, mainly that I hallucinated. Twice. And then had lots of really vivid dreams most of the rest of the time.
The first hallucination may very well have been a dream too - it happened at night while I was in my bed on the first day of my new adventure into the land of malaria pills. In my hallucinogenic dream state, I sat up in my bed and proceeded to claw my face off. Because I didn't have scratch marks all over my face the next day, I'm inclined to think I dreamed it, but it was the most vivid, scary dream I've ever had.
The second hallucination came when I was wide awake a few weeks later and cooking dinner. I had a small pan sitting on the counter and when I went to pick it up, it turned about 180 degrees all by itself. I just stood there and stared at it, hoping that maybe it would start singing and dancing too, but it wasn't so inclined.
So who know what the next ten weeks hold in store for me. All I know is that by the time we hit December, I will have been on malaria pills for four out of the last six months, which I feel guarantees me an automatic "get out of jail free" card for any weird or erratic behavior, comments, and actions you may experience from me during that time frame.
I hope I really wrote this. I think I did. It feels real.
But the not fun part of going back to Peru is that I get to welcome my old friend malaria pills back into my life for the next 10 weeks. I took the first one today. It would have only been six weeks except that then I go to the Dominican Republic while I'm still taking the Peru pills and my doctor thought since I'm already taking them, what's another four weeks to cover my DR trip as well. Awesome.
As I discovered the last time I took them, I am apparently one of the only people in the world who actually experiences their side effects. My June team had no issues with their pills, other than Jim not being able to remember if he had taken his for the day or not, resulting in lots of time spent counting pills every morning. Maybe it's because all of them took the daily malaria pill but I take the once a week pill, because I'm special. At least that's what my doctor says.
What side effects, you might ask. Well, mainly that I hallucinated. Twice. And then had lots of really vivid dreams most of the rest of the time.
The first hallucination may very well have been a dream too - it happened at night while I was in my bed on the first day of my new adventure into the land of malaria pills. In my hallucinogenic dream state, I sat up in my bed and proceeded to claw my face off. Because I didn't have scratch marks all over my face the next day, I'm inclined to think I dreamed it, but it was the most vivid, scary dream I've ever had.
The second hallucination came when I was wide awake a few weeks later and cooking dinner. I had a small pan sitting on the counter and when I went to pick it up, it turned about 180 degrees all by itself. I just stood there and stared at it, hoping that maybe it would start singing and dancing too, but it wasn't so inclined.
So who know what the next ten weeks hold in store for me. All I know is that by the time we hit December, I will have been on malaria pills for four out of the last six months, which I feel guarantees me an automatic "get out of jail free" card for any weird or erratic behavior, comments, and actions you may experience from me during that time frame.
I hope I really wrote this. I think I did. It feels real.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)