Hands off MY food!

A few days ago, I ran back to my cabin to make my lunch.  I sliced some beautiful green apples and arranged some sweet juicy strawberries on a plate.  I cut into an orange, a perfect orange, that I had to climb a tree like Tarzan to obtain.  I pulled out all the stops-- even allowing myself a spoonful of peanut butter for the apple and the more expensive kiwi that I bought myself as a treat. Imagine everything you have ever dreamed about as far as the juiciest, tastiest, most delectable fruit.  That was my plate for lunch. My mouth is watering just thinking about all of that crazy deliciousness as I write this post right now.

I gathered up that plate of heaven and walked over to the school so I could eat with the other teachers for lunch.  I sat down and before I knew what was happening, a variety of hands started rushing to the plate.  No inquiries for permission, just hums of satisfaction as the teachers chewed those delicious fruits.  MY delicious fruit.   

"Que rico!" "Soooo tasty!"

My heart sank as it looked at the remnants of the once overflowing plate.  Soon, blood started to boil, and I used my fork to STAB into the last slivers of kiwi (I don't think anyone noticed the ogreish disgruntled attitude) Questions of manners flooded my brain - Did they not know that was MY lunch?  How rude!

Later that night, after my blood returned to its normal temperature, I was hanging out with some boys from youth group.  As we talked and laughed together, two boys opened their personal sized chip bags (the ones that have maybe 10 chips inside).  And you want to know what they did? They walked around the room to the other 3 of us and offered us a snack.  And at their action, cultural values smacked me in the face.  Ouch!

I remembered how the fruit event had led to confusion and frustration.  It had caused  judgement and a lack of understanding towards those hungry teachers.  I was quick to label them as thieves of my scrumptious food and my minutes of delight.  Their approach to food was DIFFERENT than mine.   Back home, we ask politely or assume something is someone else's until they offer (unless we are trying to steal our siblings french fries) -- but that's our food custom.  Here in Ecuador, you bring something to a group, you share.  Automatically.  Your plate is not yours.  Talk about having one of my sweet cultural customs stripped from my hands.  

Now, with my eyes opened a little wider, I am able to see this Ecuadorian value and their custom.  My individualistic (and often selfish) American self can learn a great deal from Ecuador.  This cultural difference - offering what I have to my community, even if it is a bag  of 10 chips or the most delicious of fruit, is kinda awesome. It discourages my selfishness and I need that.  

I need that a lot. 

Here's to learning more things about/from other cultures!

-kc

Have you ever had a cultural hiccup?

Jungle Stories // Eye Monster

I wake up in a zombie like fashion complete with the groaning and slow movement.  I gather all of my school things and struggle to remember how to put socks on correctly.

"Coffee....coffee..." I grumble as I rub my eyes in a stupor and head for the coffee pot.

A little while later, I am in the middle of my English class teaching about family words.  "BABY, SISTER, BROTHER!" we shout as a class.

Suddenly, my eye starts itching uncontrollably.  Three students look up at me and one shouts,

 "Miss Keri! El ojo es rojo! EYE RED!!! Tu eye es big! EYEEEEEE!!!!!"

The bell rings and I sprint to the bathroom.  I look into the mirror and barely recognize myself.

I stare back at a nearly cyclops face with an eye that seems to be on a mission to take over my nose and my other eye.  My sclera has even transformed from its typical cloudy white color.  It is now a  mix between scrumptious tomato and fire engine red.

I try to wash the eye--which is now becoming a size that only Wile E. Coyote has ever experienced.  I run to my cabin knowing this is some allergic reaction.  I throw medicine all over the counter.

"Ben....a....WHAT?"

I struggle to read the medicine bottle with my one good eye.  "I think this is it," I comment as I propel Benadryl into my mouth and chug a glass of water.

3 hours later, I awake in another zombie like state. The eye no longer itches, and I can actually look into the mirror without scaring myself completely.  No hospital visits today.

"How did this happen?" you might ask.  Upon further investigation, the culprit is a jungle moth.  Yes, you heard me.  The powder from the wings of this crazy creature somehow got on my pillow in the morning, caused my allergic reaction, and made my eye so distorted I scared little children.  Score for jungle critters.

love and monkeys,
jungle lady

Feliz Navidad, burning dolls, and recent happenings

Bethlehem in the Jungle




Roman soldier out of cardboard.

One Christmas program.  400 invited.  60 students. One Jungle.  

The night of the program really began weeks before: building structures for each class, sending invitations, cutting down trees, cutting up cardboard to make an awesome Roman soldier costume.  I walked over the rocks with my time spreadsheets and colored wristbands.  My walk was directed by the focus needed to coordinate the event.  I almost forgot what I was wearing.

I saw this face.  It was not until I passed by it and some shepherds that I remembered.  Oh, sweet little Erick.  Fear and confusion were in his eyes as he asked, “Miss Keri?!????????”

Erick the shepherd.

About 2 hours later, and after yelling “RAPIDO!” MUEVETE!” in my best Spanish Roman soldier accent, we only had 1 group left.
  
But then, the sky opened up.  Completely.  

I forgot that I live in the rain-forest.   “AYUDAME!” I looked to the right and saw parents desperately scurrying for shelter underneath the little tent coverings.  “LLUVIA!” I examined the left and saw teachers desperately trying to cover speakers and other electrical equipment.  The rain was not sprinkling, or even pouring, it seemed like it was trying to flood the entire property.  

What are we going to do?



They made this thing out of leaves. 

These people are going to kill me.  

Can I magically create 40 umbrellas for the last group of parents?

I wish I was Mary Poppins.  She is good at these things. 




Somehow it just happened.  Roberto directed us to the extra tent. The team of youth and I grabbed it and followed the last group of parents covering them as we soaked ourselves throughout Bethlehem. The last group finished singing to Mary and Joseph and then there was applause.  Such a sweet sound.  We made it.  And even with smiles as parents and children left running for home despite the downpour.  

Mi Navidad

Thanks to the wonderful Christy, friends and I had the opportunity to spend Christmas in the cold of Quito.  Fire sizzling, my first turkey cooking, Michael Buble singing, cheesecake preparing, Christmas lights sparkling, and advent wreath glowing.  Oh, and since it’s Ecuador, don’t forget those fireworks exploding.  It was absolutely refreshing :) During this time, I desperately missed dear loved ones living continents away, but I also realized how much thankfulness I have. Specifically, for the little Christmas things and for a Savior who is always with me (and cannot be separated by longitudes or latitudes).  

He was a baby, a child, a man, and then died-- for me.  How often do I fail to be thankful for that remarkable and astonishing fact throughout the year?  Please read this post from a friend who poses the question “Merry Christmas....now what?”

I want to VIBRANTLY live for Him, glorify Him, and give thanks to Him all year round. Not just at Christmas.

The Ecuador New Year vs. My New Year

Possible poison from that warlike rainfall or water filtration issues kept me away from New Year's shenanigans.  I stayed curled up in bed listening to Cumbia and Salsa music blasting from across the river.  Soon, the music intertwined with firework screeches and squalls.  My new favorite possession is my large pack of earplugs I keep beside my bed.  

I did get a chance to watch the ball drop on YouTube....I think it was from 2013.  Whoops.   

I think New Year's Eve really turns into New Year's week here.  Fireworks begin detonating days before 2014 even starts thinking about showing up.   One of the biggest traditions is the burning of these almost human-size dolls called "Los Años Viejos" (The Old Years).  Almost the minute after Christmas ends, the streets start lining up with these effigies with faces anywhere from politicians to Spiderman.  At the stroke of midnight, people burn their doll in hopes to burn away the old year in order to be ready for the new.  All of the bad of the year is cast upon the doll, that "dies" at midnight as it is burned in flames.  As Ecuadorian friends were telling me about the tradition, my mind thought about the cultural training I received at Missions Training International just a few months ago.  I thought this tradition would have made it to the discussion list--- aspects of the culture.

 Burning cardboard and sand dust will not make sufferings, mistakes, or the bad disappear.  How then is there good news for 2014? What must we do?  It is not what we must do, but what He did.  My hope for this year is that more Ecuadorians will know He who says "Behold, I make all things new." -Revelation 21:5 

Latest Happenings

I am a busy lady.  We have the end of our semester rushing upon us, so I am of course frantically grading, exam planning, thinking about climbing trees with some monkeys, etc.  I do love going into town to see these little ones on the right :)

Prayer requests:

Nurse team that will be here soon

Drama/Youth will be restarting officially next week

Fundraising for a car/scooter into town for transportation

Fundraising for the youth group

Much love and more updates to come!

1 John 4:7,

Keri 

OH I KNOW YOU WERE WAITING FOR IT.  ROMAN SOLDIER PARTY TIME.