The Third Letter
Dear Mom and Dad,
I haven't been putting pictures up because we have to share the internet, and it takes so long to upload them.
Today we went to town for the third time since we've been at Sunshine Orchards. A couple of days ago we went twice, because the town is only 5 k from here. The first time we drove in with Hannah Steck and the second time we started walking there with Sabrina Peterson and ended up catching a songthaew (Pronounced song tau. It's a local taxi truck.) the rest of the way. A girl from New Zealand happened to also be riding the songthaew and we were happy to converse with another English speaker. Actually, her English was pretty intriguing. Instead of New Zealand, she said something like "Niw Zilend". Esther Collier would understand her pretty well.
Anyway, today we went to a town about thirty minutes away, to take some native Karen to the hospital. The one little lady had kidney stones, but you couldn't really tell she was in pain except for her sad eyes and her slight stiffness. They are pretty stoic people here. Kind of makes me ashamed for complaining about lesser problems.
Wow, have you ever got to drink water here! You could go for only about an hour before you start to feel dehydrated, because you've sweat all your water out. Thankfully, clean water is very inexpensive.
Hmm, what other things would you be interested to know?
Let's see...
At 4:45 pm you could walk across campus and see girls everywhere, wearing sarongs and taking baths right out in the open. It's a part of life no one really thinks twice about. Actually, -here's the naturalist, hippie in me speaking- I think it's kind of exhilarating to take a bath outside, once you get over the fact that everyone can see you. Haha. Hannah and I were laughing today imagining what all of you would think about living here. I'm sure you would get used to it too, just like we did.
The mountains around here are amazing; unlike mountains you would find in the States. Picture a big cumulus cloud, rising to a rounded peak, and then imagine a mountain that looks like that. The mountains across the river are very close, but so tall that the clouds sometimes cover the tops. But these are jungle mountains; you can only see a few sheer rock faces. The rest of the mountain is carpeted in green. Oh, and on the sides of some of the mountains here, where it isn't too steep, the natives grow mountain rice that doesn't need to be flooded like normal rice.
The flat valley areas are for normal rice paddies.
As you drive along to town, through the mountains, you will see random people sitting by the side of the road, selling bamboo shoots or other things. You might pass a small herd of goats trotting single-file beside the road (they are so much smarter than the deer in Arkansas), or a herd of high-withered cows laying on the narrow shoulder. The Thai put ropes through the cows' noses and then tie the ends around their horns so they can be lead or controlled more easily. The cows are much shorter and skinnier than American cows, kind of like the Thai people vs. American people.
That was blunt.
Actually, the Karen are really blunt, too. Today as I was swinging in my hammock, reading my Bible, six year old Mu Wa Wa poked me and giggled, "Teesha, you FAT!"
Really...?
The kids here are something else. For the past few days, Hannah has become the new best friend of some little orphans who live in the children's home, and they follow her up to our hut every morning to play with puzzles. I tend to stay a little distant, so they won't get used to following me around everywhere, but sometimes they are just hysterical. Yesterday, four or five of them were up here, playing away. Mu Wa Wa, Ju-Ju, her four year old sister, and La La Mu (a tiny little one who I originally thought was a boy, because her hair was buzzed off) were swinging like monkeys in the hammocks on our porch. I was helping a little boy put together a truck puzzle because he was so quiet and thoughtful, when Ju-Ju tumbled out of the lower hammock onto the wood floor. Instead of crying, like any self-respecting four year old would do, she got a little bit angry and started tearing up the other puzzles, laughing hysterically. I fended her off the little boy's puzzle, but she got all the other pieces and was about to throw them all down the stairs before Hannah stopped her. La La Mu took over the hammock, and wrapped herself up like a cocoon.
"Teesha, no see me!" she crowed in a tiny chirrupy voice.
"Hmm. You're right, I don't see you." I smiled.
She giggled ecstatically, and peeked one eye out, "Teesha, no see meee!"
"Oh, but I do see you!"
Her giggling reached a fever pitch as she wriggled around and poked one foot out, "Teesha, you see me!"
I couldn't help but giggle with her, "Yes, I do see you."
The little boy sniffling with a cold, politely asked, "Teesha, where dis one go?"
I turned back to helping him place the puzzle pieces, and tried not to cringe at Mu Wa Wa swinging violently in my hammock, high above the floor.
Eventually the kids left and Hannah and I sighed in relief. It's a big responsibility to watch so many crazy children all at once. I can only imagine what the Mr. and Mrs. Adams deal with in the children's home.
This evening, I was sitting outside on the chapel steps during worship. La La Mu must have gotten bored, because she came out and went down the steps to wander around on the concrete patio. At one point, she looked down and slapped her hand down over her arm and looked up at me with a puckish grin. I came down the steps and whispered, "What is it?"
She giggled and opened her hand to reveal a gecko, about one inch long, laying across her palm.
"Ohh, it's so little!"
She held the gecko for a little longer while I went back up the steps and then came up to show me that she had either accidentally or on purpose smashed it by holding it too tightly. I was surprised, but she laughed even harder and rubbed its remains on another little girl's shoulder.
Oh my. These kids.
I love them already.
Other interesting facts about the jungle:
50% of the time you will have at least one miniature ant crawling on you.
The other 50% of the time, multiple ants will be rummaging through your things.
Expect a giant bug to appear at any time.
Instead of squirrels, they have geckos. Most are little, and make chirping noises. Some are over a foot long and say things like, "Uh uh."
If you disagree with them and say, "Uh huh!" they will concede, "Ohh..."
Conversing with a gecko...fun jungle activity.
Oh, about the rainy season. So when I read mission books about missionary families in tropical countries I thought the rainy season went like this: at exactly 12:00 noon, or some other predetermined time, a switch would go off, and all of a sudden, water would pour out of an otherwise clear sky. Then, about twenty minutes later, the switch would go off again, and it would be sunny.
Well, you know, the rainy season isn't quite like that!
In fact, though I never imagined the common sense of it, you can actually see the rain clouds coming, and they don't always come at the same time. Neither do they always rain buckets of water; somedays, it doesn't even rain at all.
If you carry an umbrella, it's not as likely to rain as if you had left your umbrella at home.
It's never completely quiet at night. There are always crickets or cicadas making lots of noise.
We can see the stars through our open window, but they are different stars than the ones you can see at home. At least, I don't recognize them.
What else?
Oh, about me. I haven't really seen myself in a mirror since last week, but I just stepped on a scale today and discovered I'm only 110 lbs, the least I've ever weighed since I don't know when. I talked with Mrs. Steck, who is a nurse, and discovered that we share many of the same symptoms of hypothyroidism. On the way back from town today we collaborated and laughed about some of the weirder things, "Do you get random mood swings? Yea? What about flashing lights in your eyes? Me too! Oh, what about having a hard time balancing? Yes! Wow, that's what's wrong with me..."
Trouble remembering things, extremely hard time focusing, being tired all the time, random swings in blood pressure and sugar, occasionally racing heart, inability to tolerate temperature extremes...yea, that's been me for most of my life. Thankfully, Mrs. Steck has iodine and treats herself naturally, which is the only way I would do it. Hopefully, as I start taking iodine too, I'll start to feel better.
You can pray that it will help; the problem has gone a long time without any treatment, so I don't know if it will get better or not. I trust God is in control of my health, though, as long as I do everything I know to take care of it.
The biggest thing on my mind today was the realization, it doesn't matter that I'm in a land far from everything that's familiar to me: God is here too, and He's taking good care of me. That makes me happy. Everything is going to be just fine, no matter what, because He's not going to leave me alone or helpless.
Hey, you should try going somewhere on a mission trip sometime! It's a great experience.
Hint: You could start with coming to visit me!
Smile, God is here in the future, too!
Love,
Raquel
I haven't been putting pictures up because we have to share the internet, and it takes so long to upload them.
Today we went to town for the third time since we've been at Sunshine Orchards. A couple of days ago we went twice, because the town is only 5 k from here. The first time we drove in with Hannah Steck and the second time we started walking there with Sabrina Peterson and ended up catching a songthaew (Pronounced song tau. It's a local taxi truck.) the rest of the way. A girl from New Zealand happened to also be riding the songthaew and we were happy to converse with another English speaker. Actually, her English was pretty intriguing. Instead of New Zealand, she said something like "Niw Zilend". Esther Collier would understand her pretty well.
Anyway, today we went to a town about thirty minutes away, to take some native Karen to the hospital. The one little lady had kidney stones, but you couldn't really tell she was in pain except for her sad eyes and her slight stiffness. They are pretty stoic people here. Kind of makes me ashamed for complaining about lesser problems.
Wow, have you ever got to drink water here! You could go for only about an hour before you start to feel dehydrated, because you've sweat all your water out. Thankfully, clean water is very inexpensive.
Hmm, what other things would you be interested to know?
Let's see...
At 4:45 pm you could walk across campus and see girls everywhere, wearing sarongs and taking baths right out in the open. It's a part of life no one really thinks twice about. Actually, -here's the naturalist, hippie in me speaking- I think it's kind of exhilarating to take a bath outside, once you get over the fact that everyone can see you. Haha. Hannah and I were laughing today imagining what all of you would think about living here. I'm sure you would get used to it too, just like we did.
The mountains around here are amazing; unlike mountains you would find in the States. Picture a big cumulus cloud, rising to a rounded peak, and then imagine a mountain that looks like that. The mountains across the river are very close, but so tall that the clouds sometimes cover the tops. But these are jungle mountains; you can only see a few sheer rock faces. The rest of the mountain is carpeted in green. Oh, and on the sides of some of the mountains here, where it isn't too steep, the natives grow mountain rice that doesn't need to be flooded like normal rice.
The flat valley areas are for normal rice paddies.
As you drive along to town, through the mountains, you will see random people sitting by the side of the road, selling bamboo shoots or other things. You might pass a small herd of goats trotting single-file beside the road (they are so much smarter than the deer in Arkansas), or a herd of high-withered cows laying on the narrow shoulder. The Thai put ropes through the cows' noses and then tie the ends around their horns so they can be lead or controlled more easily. The cows are much shorter and skinnier than American cows, kind of like the Thai people vs. American people.
That was blunt.
Actually, the Karen are really blunt, too. Today as I was swinging in my hammock, reading my Bible, six year old Mu Wa Wa poked me and giggled, "Teesha, you FAT!"
Really...?
The kids here are something else. For the past few days, Hannah has become the new best friend of some little orphans who live in the children's home, and they follow her up to our hut every morning to play with puzzles. I tend to stay a little distant, so they won't get used to following me around everywhere, but sometimes they are just hysterical. Yesterday, four or five of them were up here, playing away. Mu Wa Wa, Ju-Ju, her four year old sister, and La La Mu (a tiny little one who I originally thought was a boy, because her hair was buzzed off) were swinging like monkeys in the hammocks on our porch. I was helping a little boy put together a truck puzzle because he was so quiet and thoughtful, when Ju-Ju tumbled out of the lower hammock onto the wood floor. Instead of crying, like any self-respecting four year old would do, she got a little bit angry and started tearing up the other puzzles, laughing hysterically. I fended her off the little boy's puzzle, but she got all the other pieces and was about to throw them all down the stairs before Hannah stopped her. La La Mu took over the hammock, and wrapped herself up like a cocoon.
"Teesha, no see me!" she crowed in a tiny chirrupy voice.
"Hmm. You're right, I don't see you." I smiled.
She giggled ecstatically, and peeked one eye out, "Teesha, no see meee!"
"Oh, but I do see you!"
Her giggling reached a fever pitch as she wriggled around and poked one foot out, "Teesha, you see me!"
I couldn't help but giggle with her, "Yes, I do see you."
The little boy sniffling with a cold, politely asked, "Teesha, where dis one go?"
I turned back to helping him place the puzzle pieces, and tried not to cringe at Mu Wa Wa swinging violently in my hammock, high above the floor.
Eventually the kids left and Hannah and I sighed in relief. It's a big responsibility to watch so many crazy children all at once. I can only imagine what the Mr. and Mrs. Adams deal with in the children's home.
This evening, I was sitting outside on the chapel steps during worship. La La Mu must have gotten bored, because she came out and went down the steps to wander around on the concrete patio. At one point, she looked down and slapped her hand down over her arm and looked up at me with a puckish grin. I came down the steps and whispered, "What is it?"
She giggled and opened her hand to reveal a gecko, about one inch long, laying across her palm.
"Ohh, it's so little!"
She held the gecko for a little longer while I went back up the steps and then came up to show me that she had either accidentally or on purpose smashed it by holding it too tightly. I was surprised, but she laughed even harder and rubbed its remains on another little girl's shoulder.
Oh my. These kids.
I love them already.
Other interesting facts about the jungle:
50% of the time you will have at least one miniature ant crawling on you.
The other 50% of the time, multiple ants will be rummaging through your things.
Expect a giant bug to appear at any time.
Instead of squirrels, they have geckos. Most are little, and make chirping noises. Some are over a foot long and say things like, "Uh uh."
If you disagree with them and say, "Uh huh!" they will concede, "Ohh..."
Conversing with a gecko...fun jungle activity.
Oh, about the rainy season. So when I read mission books about missionary families in tropical countries I thought the rainy season went like this: at exactly 12:00 noon, or some other predetermined time, a switch would go off, and all of a sudden, water would pour out of an otherwise clear sky. Then, about twenty minutes later, the switch would go off again, and it would be sunny.
Well, you know, the rainy season isn't quite like that!
In fact, though I never imagined the common sense of it, you can actually see the rain clouds coming, and they don't always come at the same time. Neither do they always rain buckets of water; somedays, it doesn't even rain at all.
If you carry an umbrella, it's not as likely to rain as if you had left your umbrella at home.
It's never completely quiet at night. There are always crickets or cicadas making lots of noise.
We can see the stars through our open window, but they are different stars than the ones you can see at home. At least, I don't recognize them.
What else?
Oh, about me. I haven't really seen myself in a mirror since last week, but I just stepped on a scale today and discovered I'm only 110 lbs, the least I've ever weighed since I don't know when. I talked with Mrs. Steck, who is a nurse, and discovered that we share many of the same symptoms of hypothyroidism. On the way back from town today we collaborated and laughed about some of the weirder things, "Do you get random mood swings? Yea? What about flashing lights in your eyes? Me too! Oh, what about having a hard time balancing? Yes! Wow, that's what's wrong with me..."
Trouble remembering things, extremely hard time focusing, being tired all the time, random swings in blood pressure and sugar, occasionally racing heart, inability to tolerate temperature extremes...yea, that's been me for most of my life. Thankfully, Mrs. Steck has iodine and treats herself naturally, which is the only way I would do it. Hopefully, as I start taking iodine too, I'll start to feel better.
You can pray that it will help; the problem has gone a long time without any treatment, so I don't know if it will get better or not. I trust God is in control of my health, though, as long as I do everything I know to take care of it.
The biggest thing on my mind today was the realization, it doesn't matter that I'm in a land far from everything that's familiar to me: God is here too, and He's taking good care of me. That makes me happy. Everything is going to be just fine, no matter what, because He's not going to leave me alone or helpless.
Hey, you should try going somewhere on a mission trip sometime! It's a great experience.
Hint: You could start with coming to visit me!
Smile, God is here in the future, too!
Love,
Raquel
Ahhhh...geckos, crickets, cicadas, beautiful mountains and taking shower outside. I'll be having similar experience in Haiti (country part of it) for two weeks.
ReplyDeleteGirl did I tell you that I experienced showering outside while in Sumerset, KY. Plastic tablecloths was use for curtain. There is nothing better than garden hose water pressure, especially when it's cold. I got the best sleep after those cold showers :)