Christmas!

Please read Christmas Eve post first for continuity....

I attended 8 a.m. Christmas mass with the sisters this morning. For some reason I didn’t expect it to be crowded, but, just like last night, the place was packed! Today, however, the whole service was just an hour and a half long. I guess to make up for the fact that mass started 10 minutes early last night, mass started 20 minutes late this morning. The opening song was to the tune of “Oh Christmas Tree”. Surely they weren’t singing about a Christmas tree for the opening song of Christmas mass! They also sang Joy to the World and Gloria In Excelsis Deo, which I enjoyed hearing again. Interestingly, the light display that lit up the nativity scene in the back of the church played music that could not be turned off, so for the entire duration of the mass the congregation was serenaded to the tune of “Silent Night” playing over and over again.

Father Manuel’s homily was long-as usual-but apparently it was very good. I asked Sr. Brigida what he had said later during snack time. He referred to examples in the Bible of God showing his awesome power. Nothing is impossible for God! He also described our heart as having a door on it with no handle. This means that God can’t simply come into our hearts, we have to open the door and invite Him in. He urged us to invite the Lord into our hearts this Christmas. I was happy to note that I had already done that! She said he also told a story about some people who saw Jesus. They asked Him what gift He had brought for them. He opened his arms and said, “Me!”

After mass I decided to walk around Venilale and take pictures of the precipios. In East Timor, families do not decorate their houses with light displays. However, many families get together to build an elaborate nativity scene called a precipio. The precipio often includes a stable, the Holy Family, signs wishing passersby a Merry Christmas and Happy New Year, and lights that are illuminated at night to make it really shine! Families place a stereo inside the precipio and gather to eat, drink and be merry all week leading up to Christmas! Each precipio is different, but all are unique and beautiful! I found 9 on my walk on Christmas Day!

I thoroughly enjoyed my Christmas walk around the village of Venilale. I greeted everyone with warm wishes, and most people cheerfully returned my friendly greeting. Several kids joined me on different segments of my walk. They were fascinated by me, a malae. Their boisterous, happy, carefree nature and laughter was contagious and really put a sparkle in my already fantastic week.

Lunch was absolutely delicious! I entered the dining room 5 minutes early to help set up. Plate after delicious plate was dispensed from the kitchen. After each plate came out, I was sure that was all that would be served, but there was a very long line of dishes to be eaten! There was grilled chicken, pork in a spicy sauce (reminded me of Indian food I have tasted), fried calamari, a mayo/corn/peas/beans mix, spaghetti with cheese sauce, kankun, eggplant parmesan, and white rice, of course! I had a little of everything except the last 3 things.

I joined the sisters at the convent down the hill for afternoon prayer and dinner. We had a nice time together and I really enjoyed their company. After dinner we watched Christmas Day mass at St. Peter’s Basilica in Rome on tv. I watched in awe as I remembered with fondness my visit there just 1 year ago! I couldn’t believe I had been there! As the camera panned out to show the interior, I was blown away by its beauty. I had actually seen that in person?! Wow, just incredible. Again, I was mystified by God’s goodness. Last year I was in Rome and had no idea where I would be a year from then. Now, here I am in East Timor. I still feel as if I must be dreaming!

I would like to close this post by listing a few similarities and differences in the Christmas celebrations here in East Timor.

1.        I have already noted my favorite East Timor celebration-the building of precipios! I even spotted a precipio right in front of the police station! Unfortunately, this would NEVER happen in 21^st century America!

2.       Yes, I am living in a community with sisters, so my viewpoint is a little biased, but there seems to be a very strong emphasis on the true reason for the Christmas season here in East Timor. Advent, the four weeks leading up to Christmas, is a very special and meaningful time of prayer and preparation for Jesus’ coming commemorated in the Catholic church. East Timorians take this season very seriously and several events are offered to help spiritually prepare oneself for Christmas Day.

a.       Novenas-In the last 9 days leading up to Christmas, novena prayer services are held in churches throughout the country. These are half an hour in length and include singing, prayer and a short Bible reading with a reflection on the passage by the priest.

b.      Retreats-the Salesian sisters hold half-day retreats at churches in nearby villages. These retreats can include lectures and discussions on various topics. One discussion was about how increasing globalization has changed the meaning of Christmas here in East Timor. The retreats end with a mass and confession.

c.       Christmas Eve and Christmas day mass-growing up, I only remember attending 1 or the other. Yes, people attend both in the U.S., but I don’t believe it is very common. Here, it is expected to attend both masses.

d.      At the church in Venilale there was only one Christmas Eve mass, but I am sure this varies depending on the size of the church. A new tradition at Christmas Eve mass for me was kissing baby Jesus!

3.       Presents may be exchanged among family members and special friends, but it is not really expected or very common. One of the sisters shared with me that children will give their godparents a special gift. Common gifts include exchanging livestock and crops. The Salesian communities exchanged baked goods with each other. Interestingly, taking family day trips to different cities in East Timor are becoming a popular Christmas traditiion.

4.       Interestingly, I saw wooden cutouts of Santa Claus’s alongside some of the precipios. People know who he is, but do not grow up believing he comes to their homes and brings them gifts. He seems to be just another decoration. The other day as I rode through Baucau I saw a man carrying a baby wearing a Santa hat! So cute!

5.       East Timorians put up decorations just a few days before Christmas. I know this varies from family to family in the United States, but growing up, my family always put out Christmas decorations right after Thanksgiving so we could enjoy seeing them for the whole month leading up to Christmas. Here, no one puts up any decorations until Christmas week! I didn’t see many decorations or Christmas paraphernalia for sale at the local market, but I did see a few strands of Christmas lights. Almost every home has a small (artificial) Christmas tree.

Whew, sorry for such long posts, but I wanted to give you all a glimpse of how truly blessed and special my Christmas was! I pray that you all had wonderful celebrations with dear family and friends as well! You were (and still are) in my prayers!

Christmas Eve

I started off my Christmas Eve day with a run up to my Psalm 23 spot. I brought my iPod along and listened to music the whole way. The sunrise over the mountain was the most magnificent I have seen in my 3 months here in East Timor. The morning had dawned warm, bright and beautiful! I laughed when “Let it Snow” came on my iPod. I changed the words to “Let it Shine”, which seemed much more appropriate.

Most of the day was spent working alongside sisters, orphans and parishioners helping to decorate the church for the Christmas services that evening and the next morning. The decorations were simple, but everyone took time and effort to make the church look its very best.

A long red carpet spanned the length of the entire center aisle of the church and completely covered the altar. Beautiful, fragrant pink, yellow and white flowers had been brought in from gardens around the Venilale area to make flower arrangements for the altar. I was told these flowers are unique to this area, and they were truly beautiful and unlike any I had ever seen before.  A large banner was hung behind the altar that read “Jesus is born today”.

Sr. Dolores and I went around the inner perimeter of the church and hung up impromptu “flower pots” made out of tall plastic water bottles out of which a hole had been cut. I wasn’t sure how these water bottle planters would turn out, but they actually looked very nice once the flowers were added. You would have had to look very closely to see the water bottle planter holding the arrangement in place.

While we decorated, a priest and several altar servers practiced their entrance procession and reviewed their roles for the mass. The choir was also practicing, and it was a real treat to hear some Christmas songs I recognized, including an Alleluia chorus, Go Tell it on the Mountain, and Joy to the World!

I was REALLY starting to feel in the Christmas spirit! These preparations for Christmas mass seemed so similar to the preparations back home! It was so neat to see that even in East Timor, people go to great strides and effort to make the church look special for Christmas. Why? Because it is a VERY BIG DEAL! I was far from home, but the meaning of the season is still the same. God is just as much with me here as he is back in Texas. In fact, I feel that in many ways I can better experience Him here without the distractions I face at home! I didn’t feel so homesick after all. I felt…joyful!

At one point, I was sitting beside jovial and always upbeat Sr. Noemia as she prepared bows. She leaned towards me and softly said, “When there are a lot of people around, I feel very shy” in Tetum.  I was very surprised to hear this. Sr. Noemia? She is always so positive, upbeat, outgoing and energetic. I never would have guessed she was so shy! She asked me if I “hanoin familia” –do you miss/are you thinking of your family?  I feel like this is a trick question. If you say no, people think you are insensitive. If you say yes, people feel badly for you. I said yes  (which was the truth) anyway. She confided that she missed hers, too. She just transferred to the Venilale convent from Dili last week, so I can understand why she might be feeling a little out of place. It had never occurred to me before this conversation that she might be feeling this way, though. It was comforting to know that I wasn’t alone in missing my family. I admit that I often forget how “human” sisters are. Surely they don’t suffer through some of the same emotions, feelings, problems and concerns that I do, right? Wrong. As it turns out, although sisters live a consecreated life, they aren’t that different from you and me after all!

Lunch was less than appetizing-2 vegetables that I have tried but do not like were being served, along with fried sardines and the staple white rice. For some reason, this drab meal really put a damper on my spirits. I imagined the honey baked ham, lasagna, ravioli, steak, mashed potatoes, green bean casserole, stuffed shells and other delicious items I would be eating if I was at home. I prayed that God would open my eyes to see how blessed I was-at least I had food to eat, which is more than many people here in East Timor and around the world can say. I felt so guilty for feeling the way I did, but I couldn’t shake the feeling. I missed home!

On the plus side, the “dessert” was good. I tried passion fruit for the first time! I watched as Sr. Dolores cut hers in half, squeezed the two halves into a glass (including the black seeds), added water and sugar, and drank it. She encouraged me to try it myself. I was apprehensive, but figured I would give it a shot. It was actually very sweet and delicious! Sr. D then proceeded to eat the white inner “rind” of the passion fruit. She said it was good for your stomach. I tasted it. It was kind of bitter. I am sure it has fiber, so by “good for your stomach” the sisters probably mean it “clears you out”.

After a long day of working in the church and a less-than-appetizing lunch, I was hoping delicious food would be served for dinner. “Santa” didn’t come early- we had a pretty bland meal-fried artificial crab leg meat, white rice and some kind of diced carrot and cabbage veggie mix.

Sr. Olga informed me during dinner that mass was at 10 p.m., but you would need to be there by 8:30 to get a seat.  I figured I squeeze in pretty easily somewhere if I arrived later than that, but I showed up at the time she suggested to pray, reflect and get the whole “Christmas eve mass experience.” The church was almost empty when I arrived, but I didn’t mind getting there early. The electric organ played upbeat songs to entertain the congregation before the mass began.

Despite the weather having turned cooler, foggier and rainier this evening, by the time mass started the church was packed! As I looked around the church I saw unfamiliar, brown faces. That’s when it really struck me. God did not come just to save Americans, Caucasians, people in my church or the United States. He came to give hope and to be the Savior of the whole world! It was incredible to think that we here in East Timor were some of the first to celebrate the Christmas Eve mass around the world. It was more incredible to think that millions of people will be attending church services just like this one (in different tongues, different places, different times, different weather, different circumstances) in recognition, honor, and celebration of a tiny event that happened more than 2000 years ago. Jesus came into the world. Not just for ME, but for that man sitting in the choir, for the teenage girl in front of me, for the shepherd I met the other day on my run, for ALL of us! He gave us ALL a hope and a future! Why a manger? Because he wanted to come to OUR level, to meet us where we are.

I may have been the only Caucasian and the only person who couldn’t understand the mass, but I felt like I belonged. I was a fellow Christian, a fellow person rejoicing in Christ Our Savior being born! I wasn’t alone, I was in community with millions of Christians all over the world today and this week! I may not be with my family or participating in the usual traditions, but the real reason for the season hasn’t changed. I am still celebrating the same event. Jesus came into the world, and he is Universal. He is with me here in East Timor, in Texas or wherever I may go! God is a good God!

The door behind the choir was open, bringing a cool and refreshing breeze into the church. Unfortunately, this also swept the blanket off of the tiny baby Jesus doll on the altar by the lectionary. One of the orphan girls got up from where she was sitting on the left wing of the church and promptly placed the sheet back over Jesus. After returning to her seat, the next gust of wind blew the cloth right back off again! A small, but audible chuckle resounded through the church. Poor baby Jesus! Isn’t it bad enough he didn’t have a crib for a bed? Now he didn’t even have a blanket to keep him warm!  An elderly lady came up a few minutes later, folded the cloth in half to make it heavier, then laid it across Jesus. Problem solved.

To my surprise, we began mass at 9:50-10 minutes early. The mass seemed to go by quickly, although it ended up being just under 2 hours long. I had read the mass readings beforehand so I would have a better idea of what was being said. I was glad I had done this. The Gospel reading was from Luke and told the birth story of Jesus. I was able to follow along pretty well as the priest read it. Although I knew the story, I found that I felt a sort of joy and sense of wonder as I heard it, as if I was listening to it for the first time. Again I was reminded of how great God’s reign is. Every year I have attended mass I have heard this story in English. This year I was attending mass in a country where just about 1 million people speak the Tetum language. 

Regardless, they were all Christians, read the same Bible and believe the same things. It is just so awesome to share a common belief, hope and joy with millions of people all over the world! I hadn’t even heard of East Timor at this time last Christmas. Now I was fully immersed in a mass here! I was hearing the good news of Jesus’ birth in the gospel. Jesus transcends time, place and language. There is no barrier He can’t cross!

Although I have heard this story dozens of times, I was captivated as I listened to the priest. I listened in wonder and awe, as if this was the first time I had heard the good news of salvation. I felt like the whole church was holding its breath! Suddenly, a cell phone rang! I was shocked and a little angry! The breathless church breathed a sigh of frustration. I wondered how many people in this whole congregation even HAD phones? What was the chance of one going off literally right before the birth of Jesus was announced? Still, I quickly put this annoyance aside and listened in reverent awe to the rest of the story. Awesome, as always.

The choir sang beautifully throughout the entire mass.  After communion they sang “O Holy Night” in English! At this point in the mass, I had tears in my eyes. I didn’t know if it was because I was thinking of my family or because I felt overwhelmingly happy and peaceful. I had just finished praying, and stood up with the other sisters. The rows in front of us were still kneeling, so I got a very clear view of the choir and of the priest. When they started singing “O Holy Night” in English, I got chills! I felt as if God was speaking right to me, as if this was a gift to welcome and accept me here in Venilale, East Timor! I proudly and strongly sang along, not afraid of sounding off key. Sister Teresa asked me to please find the words in my songbook so she could sing along in English, too! I felt sooo happy! I felt like I belonged! I felt blessed!

At the end of mass, Father said the final blessing and thanked everyone who had helped to prepare for the mass this evening. A bat suddenly swooped in from somewhere in the back of the church and flew just above the congregation’s head. It zigged and zagged to and fro. I couldn’t believe that no one screamed or even flinched! I saw a couple of altar servers try to shoo it away, but there was no big commotion. These people are fearless! The bat actually ended up perching on the window right beside me just over my head! I was creeped out, but also fascinated. I got a good chance to see what a LIVE (as opposed to the dead bat the girls at the orphanage had shown me last month) bat looked like up close!

I thought the mass was over at this point. I thought wrong! The entire congregation then lined up to kiss the baby Jesus doll that had been prominently displayed on the altar. Apparently this is a Portuguese tradition. Two lines formed, and I soon discovered there were two baby Jesus dolls-one was Caucasian, and the other had brown skin. You couldn’t tell which color baby Jesus you would kiss until it was your turn in the line, but it seemed funny to me nonetheless. I was happy that I ended up in the line to kiss the brown baby Jesus-I didn’t want to appear racist.

I felt awkward and unsure as I approached the doll. I couldn’t see where everyone in front of me was kissing it. Was there a designated spot?  Unlike when I kissed the Blarney Stone last year in Ireland, there was no wet spot from the accumulation of other people’s spit that indicated where I should kiss it. When it came my turn, I saw that Jesus’ knee was bent and jutting out, so I kissed that. I think that was the right place to kiss Him. I felt awkward but relieved to be done, and proceeded back to my seat. When everyone had finished, the priest and the altars servers proceeded out of the church and the congregation followed.

To my surprise, after the service ended, the sisters all we all gathered together and we headed to the dining room! The cheerful sound of Christmas music playing from a stereo greeted us as we entered the room! There were presents brightly wrapped in red paper under the tree, and table was beautifully set with cheerful yellow placemats with a picture of a bouquet of yellow roses on it. The napkins were elegantly folded at each place setting.

We all greeted each other with a cheerful “Boafesta!” and hug. Then Sister Olga encouraged us to find our present under the tree and open it. The sisters all received Tetum faith books (they looked interesting, maybe I could borrow one and try to read through it) and I received a lovely pink, navy blue and gold patterned tais purse! The sisters are so kind to me in letting me live and eat with them-I really didn’t need anything. Still, this was SO generous and sweet of them!

After we opened presents, we sat down to feast! The table was set with dark chocolate cookies, fruit cake, a white frosted cake with raisins on top, and a bowl of oranges and apples. The beverage selection included a sweet wine from Portugal (I tried a little, but of course, I didn’t like it. I’m glad I didn’t take too much!), milk, Energen chocolate or vanilla packets (these are sort of like hot chocolate, but not as smooth or sweet), packets of cappuccino, Tiger beer, apple or grapefruit juice. Although everything tasted delicious, I was surprised to discover that my favorite thing was the fruit cake! I had never actually tried one before.

The Christmas song, “We’re simply having a wonderful Christmas time!” came on. At that moment I just felt soooo happy and joyful. Yes, I WAS having a wonderful Christmas!  I had looked forward to experiencing an East Timor Christmas, but I never imagined I would actually enjoy it. It was so cool to hear a familiar song in a new setting and not feel a twinge of longing or regret, of missing home. No, instead I was joyful. I was having a very wonderful Christmas time! Surely this song was referring to this exact moment that I was sharing with all the sisters. I could have sat at that table all night, just soaking in the joy and happiness I felt. There is nowhere else I wanted to be at that moment. Unfortunately, all good things come to an end, and before I knew it we were clearing the table.

I was serenaded by festive Christmas music playing from somewhere up the hill as I headed back to my room that night. It wasn’t hard to count my blessings before I turned on my iPod and listened to more Christmas music as I drifted off to sleep…

Psalm 23 Place

A few weeks ago, while out on one of my morning runs, I found the most beautiful, peaceful spot I have ever encountered. I have dubbed it my “Psalm 23 Spot” because it looks just like I have always pictured the scenery mentioned in that psalm.

The spot is located at the top of a very long, windy hill with a rocky path lined by tall trees. I had trekked up part of the hill on previous runs, but I had never had the time, energy or nerve to continue further. On a day when I was feeling particularly adventurous, I finally reached the summit. It took 30 minutes running at a quick pace to reach it, but it was well worth the effort.

As I neared the “summit”, I could see more and more sunlight around each twist and turn along the path. I kept telling myself that I would stop at the next turn, then the next turn, then the next turn, until finally I stepped into the glorious morning sunlight. The very first thing I saw was a wooden cross with a majestic mountain behind it. There were clouds surrounding the mountain, giving the rising sun that was shining through a mystical glow. It was beautiful! As I approached the cross, I could see there was a cemetery behind it filled with old, pastel-colored graves.

I continued walking another minute or so, and suddenly I had the most exquisite view of the valley and rice fields below, with towering mountains beyond that. I thought I must have reached Heaven! I’m sure I heard God whisper to me, “If you think this is AMAZING, just wait!” I have never in my life seen such a stunning view! Ahead of me I saw horses and sheep grazing on the hillside. Below, along the winding path, I could see people walking up (and eventually into town). I wondered if these people, who see this incredible view every day appreciate it as much as someone who is seeing it for the first time. Can you ever really appreciate something you have always had and known?

 I know I will never be able to describe it justly, but I pray that I can always remember it! As you can see from the photo I have included, I tried to take a picture to capture its beauty, but I am afraid no picture will ever do it justice. The glory, magnitude and sheer beauty of this place cannot be captured in a picture from a digital camera.

This past Saturday morning I decided to head up to my Psalm 23 spot and quietly reflect and pray for a while. I had a lot on my mind and wanted to sit down and try to work through some of these things. I found a fantastic spot with a great view. I sat down on a smooth rock in the glorious sunlight beside a babbling brook winding downhill. Everything seemed so peaceful, perfect and quiet.

My solitude was swiftly interrupted by the sound of laughter. Out of the corner of my eye I saw two little boys, about 8 and 4 years old, standing roughly 20 feet away from me. Their mouths were open in wonder, and they were just  gazing at me. Bliss interrupted. I shouted out a friendly, “Bondia!” and was greeted by more awed silence. I tried not to pay attention to them. I figured that after my novelty wore off, they would run off and play by themselves. I closed my eyes to try to focus and to make myself even less interesting to them.

No such luck. Once again, the silence was broken by their laughter. I soon discovered that they were playing a game in which the older boy would push the younger boy closer and closer to me, while the younger boy would try to resist. Within a few minutes, we were within a few feet of each other. My peaceful ponderings were NOT going according to plan.

How could I relax, meditate and sort through my problems with kids laughing in the background? I soon realized how ridiculous this question sounded. I recalled Jesus saying, “Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these (Matthew 19: 13-15). He also said, “Truly I tell you, unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.” (Matthew 18:3).  These kids weren’t a nuisance, they were a solution! I believe God sent them to remind me to just relax-some things don’t need to probed, pondered and figured out. We just need to have faith like a child! Kids have tons of questions, but they are also perfectly content to just BELIEVE, embrace and accept what you teach them. They don’t need to have all the answers to believe in something. They just do. I may have lots of questions and concerns, but when it comes down to it, all I need to do is let go and let God. God is in control. He just wants me to relax, trust Him and ENJOY life (like these kids).

Yes, sometimes we just need faith like a child. These kids are living in extreme poverty, yet I bet they don’t worry about what they will be eating at their next meal. They are carefree and are enjoying my presence. Whatever problem I am dealing with can’t be as extreme or severe as malnutrition. If the good Lord is providing for their needs, surely He is taking care of me, too. The very first line of Psalm 23 says , “The Lord is my shepherd, there is nothing I shall want.”

I pray that the Lord’s peace be with all of you this Christmas season. May you recognize God’s love, goodness and beauty in yourself, in others and in your surroundings. May you find rest, safety, strength, and courage in the New Year. Finally, may you be daily reminded, “The Lord is my shepherd, there is nothing I shall want. My cup overflows.”

Psalm 23

The Lord is my shepherd, there is nothing I shall want.

In green pastures you let me graze;

To safe waters you lead me;

You restore my strength.

You guide me along the right path for the sake of your name.

Even when I walk through a dark valley, I fear no harm for you are at my side;

Your rod and staff give me courage.

You set a table before me as my enemies watch;

You anoint my head with oil;

My cup overflows.

Only goodness and love will pursue me all the days of my life;

I will dwell in the house of the Lord for years to come. 

The 12 Days of Christmas…East Timor Style!

On a typical day in Venilale this is what you’d see…. 

12 Billion stars
11 Malaria patients
10 Dozen laughing orphans
9 Pre-aspirants dancing
8 Men with machetes
7 Nuns a praying
6 Hours of power
5 Oinking pigs
4 Hours to a real town
3 Mikrolets
2 Geckos in my room
And a malae in a foreign country (that’s ME)!!

Hope everyone is having a safe and fun holiday season! Thank you for your continued prayers and support! I thank God for you and pray for you every day!

Feast of the Immaculate Conception

Today (December 8) is the Feast of the Immaculate Conception. This is a national holiday in East Timor that is celebrated with a mass in the morning and, as the name implies, feasting (at least we feasted at the convent) on delicious food at lunch.

In honor of this special day, I have included a short devotional I found online about Mary, the Mother of God.

“What would happen if one morning, during the middle of your daily routine, an angel appeared and told you that God had a plan that would completely change your life? How would you respond? This is exactly what happened to Mary, the Mother of God. Luke’s gospel narrative tells of how the angel Gabriel appears to Mary and proclaims, “You will be with child and give birth to a son, and you are to give him the name Jesus. He will be great and will be called the Son of the Most High. The Lord God will give him the throne of his father David, and he will reign over the house of Jacob forever; his kingdom will never end.”

Let’s consider Mary’s situation when confronted with the news that she would bear God’s Son through the virgin birth. What might this mean to her? Mary was probably about 16, perhaps even younger. She becomes pregnant. Given the societal mores of the time, she could have fully expected that she would be disgraced, that her fiancee Joseph (who knew he wasn’t the father) would abandon her, and that she would probably never marry. It’s also important to understand that Jewish society in the first century took a real hard line on “blasphemy,” as later accounts of Jesus’ ministry and death make clear. A young, single woman claiming that God had made her pregnant would have encountered trouble.

We can try to imagine ourselves in Mary’s shoes, but I don’t expect we can ever really grasp the enormity of her situation. Mary must have known there could be problems. But rather than focusing on the size of her problems, she chose to trust in the size of her God. “I am the Lord’s servant,” she replies. “May it be to me as you have said.”

Mary offers one of the most powerful examples of a person submitting to God's will, surrendering self and setting aside fears about the future. It is a response that ultimately has little to do with Mary’s age, gender or marital status. Mary’s example of a life yielded to God’s purpose speaks powerfully to us even today, more than 2,000 years later.  

God touches our lives often, in ways we almost never expect. While we may feel confused by His plan, we must aspire to Mary’s faith. We need to try, as best we can, to be the Lord’s servants, entrusting ourselves to His care as we walk through each new day in His world.”

I love Mary’s response to the angel Gabriel. She doesn’t argue with him or complain, as I fear I probably would. My response might be something along the lines of, “Wow, that’s certainly a nice offer, but not really what I had planned for my life. I was just hoping to get married, settle down, have kids and live a nice, quiet life here in this little town.” On the contrary, Mary is willing to give up her own hopes and dreams for the future so she can fully serve the Lord.

What a fantastic example for all of us! Personally, I feel like I can relate Mary’s experience to my call to serve as a missionary in East Timor. I have always wanted to serve as a missionary, and when I was presented with the opportunity to serve in this country, I was excited, but uncertain. The truth is, I had always pictured my missionary experience a little differently. I imagined serving:

1.)    Later in my life (after I became a doctor)

2.)    For a shorter stint of time

3.)    In a country that spoke Spanish or English

4.)    Alongside my husband or other English speaking colleagues

God’s plan for me to serve as a missionary in East Timor didn’t fit any of these preconceived notions that I had formulated. Thus I was hesitant to accept this invitation to serve in this country at this time. Mary had to worry about abandonment by her fiancee and even family, public disgrace and humiliation, and uncertainty about what the rest of her life would bring. My trepidations paled in comparison to hers.  I may not have been as eager or willing as Mary to accept God’s call, but I am glad I said “yes”. I have come to discover(as I am sure Mary did and countless other Christians have) that making the choice to serve God isn’t always easy, but it is definitely worth it. I pray that I can look to Mary as an example of perfect Christian service in all my future decisions. God is in control. Let it be done to me according to HIS word.

Happy Feast Day!

Babes (and bugs) in Toyland

On Saturday afternoons I open a large toy room in the Escola do Reino for the village children to come and play. I see these children during the week, and we exchange friendly greetings, but this is really the only time that I get to spend time and play games with them. The school was built in 1933 and is no longer in use. It is pretty much just a large storage building that houses the toy room and about a dozen old computers that don’t work. Fun fact: If you GoogleEarth Venilale, East Timor, this is one of the only 2 buildings in the village you can see a picture of online. I know you are pressed for time, so I have included a picture I took of the school for your convenience. Consider it an early Christmas present :P

Konde is the “keeper of the keys” that unlock the school and the toy room. He is also responsible for turning on the water and electricity at 6 p.m. every evening for the seminary, school and convents. He is not the most responsible man, and the electricity is rarely ever turned on at the correct time. Although he lives in a small hut behind the school, he is rarely there and is a very difficult man to find. He is nice enough to me, but I have heard rumors that he likes to bet, so on the weekends he is often at cock fights.  One weekend I was unable to open the toy room because he was out betting. That was difficult to explain to the children: “Sorry kids, I can’t open the toy room for you this week. The man with  the keys is out betting on cockfights. Better luck next week.” No, that’s not what I said. I just told them I was unable to find Konde so I couldn’t open the room. The looks of disappointment on their faces were almost unbearable.

Today I was able to find him without too much difficulty. Unfortunately, I had more trouble than usual opening the toy room, though. I entered through the back door, but the front door was deadbolted shut. For whatever reason, the deadbolt was stuck, and I couldn’t budge it! I tried using my hand, the base of my umbrella, and finally a tin can to move it. The children were peering in through the windows, and could see that I couldn’t open the door. I had never had trouble before. They were all standing there so excitedly and expectantly, and I felt so embarrassed! Why couldn’t I open the door? Thankfully, I eventually did get the door open, and the large group of kids rushed in.

I noticed that one boy remained on the porch, crying and jumping around. What was he doing? Was he joking around or was he hurt? He wouldn’t stop moving long enough for me to evaluate what was wrong with him at first. I finally saw that his toe was red, but it didn’t look like blood, it looked like someone had drawn on his toe with a red marker. As I looked more carefully I saw that it was, in fact, blood. But what had he done? Was he in need of help? The clinic isn’t open on Saturdays, I didn’t have any band-aids or other medical supplies with me, and no one else was around to help me. What to do?

As grace would have it, I looked up from my position on the porch and saw 2 nuns walking towards me (but heading to the orphanage). These nuns were visiting from another convent, and I didn’t know their names. I waved at them, and they waved back. Then I motioned for them to come to the porch. I ran out to meet them and explained the problem as best as I could in my broken Tetum. One offered to help and followed along behind me. She was able to ask the little boy what had happened. Apparently one of the other kids had opened a door and the boy’s toe got caught under it. She offered to take him to the convent to get Sr. Carolina (a nurse), but he didn’t want to go. He was starting to calm down and the situation was now under control. I thanked Sister for her help and she left. I was glad this boy wasn’t seriously hurt and that, while I wasn’t able to provide medical assistance to him, I was able to handle the situation effectively. Although the boy was fine, he didn’t stick around to play.

The kids are always so excited for me to open the toy room. Numerous children throughout the week approach me and ask me when and if I will be opening it again. I open the room every Saturday, so I am not sure why they ask me this, but I enjoy talking with them, so I don’t mind. I am glad they enjoy playing with the toys so much, but in all honesty, there is not a great selection to choose from, and many toys are defective or damaged. I don’t think American kids would be too impressed by the toys offered, but these kids are so grateful and excited for the chance to play with them once a week. There is a little kitchen play set with a few pots and pans, but no food. Despite this, today I had a delicious imaginary meal of eggs and kankun (a leafy green vegetable) that a young girl served to me. There is a damaged kid-size foosball game in the corner that is beyond repair. There are also legos, miniature dump trucks, memory card games, and cardboard dolls with cardboard clothes.

About three dozen kids came in to play with the toys this afternoon, which was more than usual. Some teenage boys were among the first to enter the room. They goofed around on a couple of the toys designed for little kids, but left within a few minutes. I was very grateful. The first few times I opened the toy room for the kids, they were very quiet and did not say much to me. I guess they were “sizing me up” and a little shy about the new “malae”. I felt awkward and unsure of myself, but I knew they enjoyed playing with the toys, so I continued to open the room every week.

I guess I have finally received their stamp of approval because this week many of the kids talked with me like we were old friends. I had a chance to chat with a couple of young girls for a while, which was great. I was a lot better at understanding what they said to me, which I was excited about.

Despite the lack of toys, we still managed to have a fun afternoon. Over the course of a few hours I built lego houses and monuments, learned how to draw and color the East Timor flag, sang and danced “This Time for Africa” with a group of boys (they really got into it and were so funny to watch), and was amused by magic tricks the kids performed for me.

“What were these fantastic magic trick?” you ask? Although a magician never reveals her secrets, I suppose I will tell you anyway. One boy had a button that was gold on one side and black on the other. With a flick of the wrist (and some pretty impressive dance moves thrown in there too), he “magically” changed the color of the button from black to gold. Every time he performed his trick I “ooohed” and “aaahed” enthusiastically. Another kid borrowed my rosary ring and put it on his middle finger. He then held out his middle finger and ring finger, which were side by side. He whipped his hand behind his head and then put his hand in front of me again, this time holding out his pointer and middle finger. If you do the trick fast enough, it appears that the ring is changing fingers because it is “moving” from the finger on the right to the finger on the left.  In reality, it always stays on the middle finger. The only thing that changes is the fingers that are extended: the first time the middle and ring finger are extended; the second time the middle and pointer finger are extended. I had never seen this trick before, so I was confused at first. I quickly caught on, but played along as each boy in turn showed me the trick. I was planning on using this trick on all my family and friends back home, but I guess I can’t do that now that I just revealed the secret to all of you. I suppose this will be a good way to gauge who is actually reading my blogs! 

At one point among all the kids laughing and playing I heard a really weird noise. It sounded sort of familiar, but I could not quite figure out what it was. Was it the sound of insects? Where was it coming from? I soon discovered that several of the kids had caught bugs on their way to the toy room and had brought them along to play. One boy was holding a handful of cockroaches! When he opened his hand to show them to me, I nearly jumped out of my skin. Somehow I managed not to scream or look like I was disgusted and absolutely creeped out by them. I would like to think I am getting better at handling shock, fear, fright and confusion. I don’t know how to really test this hypothesis, but I find that I am a lot less jumpy than before. This doesn’t mean I am less disgusted or creeped out, I am just better at hiding it (I think). I didn’t want to give these kids (who outnumbered me at this point about 25  to 1) a way to tease me. I was the authority figure here! I moved away from that kid and walked towards the door. A girl came in carrying a long string. At the end of the string was a cockroach! She was using the string as a leash! Yuck! At this point I was thoroughly disgusted! Out on the porch, I saw one kid slowly squishing a cockroach with the front wheel of his dump truck.  Later, as I was putting away blocks, I found another cockroach among the legos. Bleh!

Perhaps because it is the Christmas season, the kids must have thought I was feeling particularly generous today. A small group approached me and asked if they could each take a dump truck home with them. I told them no, they had to stay here. Truthfully, I would love for the kids to take the toys home. It doesn’t seem fair or make much sense for the toys to be locked in a room and only played with once a week. But if I gave all the toys away NOW, there would be no toys left in the room for the children to play with every Saturday. I told the kids they could take the toys home in May, but for now they needed to stay here so that everyone could play with them.

These sound arguments were not satisfactory to the kids. They continued to approach me, asking if they could take toys home with them. First one kid would ask me. Then another kid would follow after him. Then another. And another. And another. Literally every kid present asked me at least half a dozen times if they could take the trucks home. I became very exasperated. What part of NO didn’t they understand? Despite this, they kept approaching me with various motives for why they wanted to take the toys home. One kid reasoned that his toy was defective and he would be happy to take it off my hands for me. Another kid explained that he wanted to give the toy to his younger sister. I told him it was very generous of him to want to bring something to her, but I suggested that SHE should come to the toy room instead.

I was getting frustrated because they would NOT stop asking. They weren’t even PLAYING anymore-they were all just standing around asking me. I contemplated closing the toy room right then and there. If they were going to act that way there was no reason I should keep it open. I looked out the window to see that it had just started to rain. It had been beautiful and sunny when I opened the toy room an hour and a half ago. I figured the kids probably didn’t realize how frustrating they were being, and it wasn’t really fair to punish impoverished kids for wanting to have a toy. It would be especially cruel to send them home in the rain.

When it finally stopped raining, I decided to close up shop. When I announced I was closing the room, everyone just stood there, as if to say they weren’t ready to leave. I thought this was odd since only a handful of the kids were playing. The rest were just asking if they could take toys home. If they weren’t going to play with the toys here, why should they be allowed to take them home? I was surprised to find that the kids nicely helped me to pick up the entire toy room, which had understandably become quite messy from such a large crowd. Some of the boys had jokingly picked up the kitchen set asking if they could take it home. As you might expect, as we were putting up the toys, I was repeatedly asked by the kids if they could take the trucks home.

Finally the place was clean and I ushered them out. I was surprised to see two bigger boys stand at the doorway, guarding against any kids who might try to sneak out toys. I was so surprised to see the honor system in effect and being enforced with and by these kids. Yes, I had told them they couldn’t take a toy out of the room, but it would have been so easy for any one of them to grab one and run away. They must have known that if they tried anything like that, they would be banned from the toy room, and even worse, shunned by the other kids. At one point, one older boy DID sneak out a little toy by hiding it in his pocket. Many of the kids had jokingly waved goodbye carrying toys out of the room, but they all brought them back. The other kids saw this boy sneaking out a toy and chased after him, but he ran away. It was clear they were all very angry with him for breaking the rules. As I said, they all COULD have taken a toy if they were really determined, but they DIDN’T. I was very proud of them. They have very few material possessions, but they have been raised to be good, Christian kids with morals and values.

The two older boys stood guard at the door, and it became a kind of game for the younger kids to try to break through the barrier with toys. Even if a kid did make it through, they promptly gave me the toys back before leaving. Wow, truly incredible, generous kids.

I locked the room and started on my quest to find Konde. As I was approaching Konde’s hut, I saw 2 dogs laying on the ground in front of me. No big deal. Stray dogs are commonplace here in East Timor, and besides a few barking as I passed by them on my morning runs, I haven’t had a problem with them yet. As I moved closer, they got up and started barking at me. I stopped in my tracks, but they started running towards me, growling and barking even louder. I was really scared at this point, but again I didn’t scream. I just turned around and started walking quickly in the other direction. I wanted to run, but I knew there were a lot of seminary boys around and I didn’t want to look even more ridiculous than I already did. Why, in such dangerous situations, do I think more about how dumb I look than the actual danger present at hand? Thankfully, several seminary boys from several different buildings all ran out and shut the dogs up by yelling at them. I had tried that in vain before turning to escape, but it hadn’t worked for me. Regardless, I was IMMENSELY grateful to these kind boys who had come out to rescue me. Everyone is just so kind to me. I am truly blessed and grateful.

It looks like I survived another Saturday playing with the village children. Hopefully next week will be less terrifying.