Tag: language learning

TGIF

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Friday morning between 4 and 5 I woke up to a break-in happening right outside my bedroom window. Not much was taken. He didn’t get into the part of the house where I was. No one was hurt. Teammates were willing to come over in the middle of the night to help me feel safe and sort things out.

Later that morning, I had my first language exam. I expected a progress report that would tell us what areas I needed to strengthen and how far along I was. But instead I tested out of full-time language, with less than 7 months of cumulative classes. Our benchmark to test out is Advanced low. I was scored two levels higher, at Advanced high, in all categories except for the two that were Superior—the highest level possible. Like, native speaker fluency. In Arabic. A couple days later and I’m still in shock.

And if anything describes the emotional roller coaster this last month has been, those two events do. Friday was a bouquet of adrenaline, too many emotions for one tiny body, numbness, confusion, and exhaustion. I didn’t cry at the break-in, like a normal person would. Oh, no. I cried after my team leader told me what my language score was. Like a crazy person. And they weren’t happy tears. I have a complex about being a know-it-all, a desire to have genuine empathy and encouragement for people struggling to learn, and I hate even the implication that something I’m good at makes people feel uncomfortable.

I tested out on the same day two other ladies on my team did, and they have worked their tails off to get where they are, and sacrificed so much. I felt ashamed: ashamed that I hadn’t had to work as hard or as long. And I still don’t entirely believe the test results, even though a stranger and an acquaintance administered the test. I know how much I still don’t know, and the score makes no sense to me. So from some lethal combination of shame, adrenaline, exhaustion, and some twisted self-pity, I sat in my car and sobbed.

Don’t ask me how that makes logical sense. It doesn’t. It makes as much sense as any sin or brokenness the Enemy throws at us to attack our minds, because that’s exactly what was happening. In the aftermath of THEMOSTEXCITINGFRIDAYIVEEVERHAD, the Lord has been gracious to help calm my mind, to help me rest in him, and to give me clarity and assurance of his presence.

First of all, before I could even think straight, the Lord was already surrounding me with love, like a great big hug from the Body of Christ he’s put around me. So many members of my team gave me actual hugs, encouragement, exhortation, and genuine congratulations. My Sudanese friends literally danced for joy, helped me laugh, and told me they never doubted how the test would go. Friends and family sent messages to help me work through the shame and try to open my eyes to what a wonderful gift my test results were. Ugandan friends expressed so much sorrow at the break-in, physically grieving with me and helping me find words for the violation I felt. And ALL of these friends redirected my focus to the Lord who gives good gifts and gives them differently across all the members of his Church. It takes a village, folks. Africa has given such a richer meaning to proverb. But all I know is this single girl wouldn’t be in her right mind without her village.

MAN, am I blessed. God threw some foreshadowing into my day just for grins and giggles. During my test, one of the topics I had to talk about was my friends around the world. Even when I wasn’t paying attention to what was coming out of my mouth, the Lord was having me list people to be grateful for. He reminded me of how many kind, sacrificial, and loving friends I have—here in Uganda from so many different countries and cultures, in America from so many different states and contexts, and friends around the world who are in this same, roller-coaster expat missions life.

The Lord reminded me that HE is the one who has provided the people around me. And HE is the one who is stable when my life feels anything but. He is good when everything is changing around me, and it’s only the blessing of his love and goodness to me that carries me safely through the low times and the high times. I’ve been reading lately through the Kings. I’ve seen the same roller-coaster of faith in their lives. King David had so many ups and downs, but after every time he crashed and burned, in the middle of every blessing he received, he praised God. He constantly reminded himself of God’s presence and lived a more God-honoring life because he intentionally brought himself into God’s presence even when it was uncomfortable.

David was blessed above and beyond what he deserved, because God delights in showing grace and mercy. Solomon came along and was the wisest man the world has ever seen. God gave him discernment, the reverence of the world, riches beyond compare, and fame beyond imagining. But when Solomon turned his eyes from the Lord who gave him these gifts to the gifts themselves, he stumbled and fell. And the Lord took his kingdom and shattered it in consequence.

In church this morning our sermon was about the same thing. Peter walked on the water to Jesus, but when he shifted his focus from his savior to the problems he needed saving from, he began to sink.

Friends, it is SO. EASY. to fall away. You get distracted for one second from intentionally dwelling in God’s presence and you’ve forgotten to praise, forgotten who deserves your gratitude, forgotten that your savior is bigger than both the waves around you and the blessings he’s given you.

If anything, that’s what THEMOSTEXCITINGFRIDAYIVEEVERHAD has taught me. My loving heavenly Father had already prepared an answer for the burglary before it even happened. And my language score wasn’t by accident, isn’t something to wallow in or hide or feel ashamed of. It is simply a gift he gave to be used to further his kingdom. I cannot tell you how my excitement has grown as I’ve allowed myself to imagine actually becoming fluent. The opportunities to communicate, to share Bible stories, to disciple, to learn culture and build friendships in deeper and more meaningful ways are endless. This gift doesn’t need to be buried in a hole, but invested to bring great returns for my Master.

A long time ago I had some artwork on my computer desktop screen of the golden lampstand and olive trees Zechariah describes in chapter 4 of his book. After the angel shows him this vision, he asks what it means. The angel answers him with the Lord’s message that the Temple of God’s presence will be rebuilt. And it will be rebuilt not by might or by power, not by skill or by endurance, not by determination or ability, but by God’s Spirit. You can almost hear the angel laughing as he delivers the message. Who are you, mountain, to stand in the way of the Lord’s work? You will be smoothed out into a plain. God’s work will be completed by HIS power, and anyone who has despised or despaired at the small things that have happened along the way, they will rejoice.

It’s that way with all of God’s work. No storm on the sea of Galilee, no Old Testament dynasty, no break-in in Arua, Uganda, no failed language exam, no road block of any kind can stand in the way of what the Lord wants to do. It’s our job to sit back, have faith, and rest in the power of the Lord’s Spirit. Don’t despair at the small things friends, don’t despise the obstacles that seem so big, and don’t get yourself bent out of shape at the good things you think you’ve done either. It’s all the Lord. He wins the battle every time, and we just get the blessing of being a part of it.

To remind myself of those very words, I made a little Scripture art for my wall:

Then he said to me, “This is the word of the Lord to Zerubbabel: Not by might, nor by power, but by my Spirit, says the Lord of Hosts. Who are you, O great mountain? Before Zerubbabel you shall become a plain.”

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Halfway Through

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Alright… Fasten your seatbelts. This is probably going to be the most intense of my blogs. It should probably be split into several parts, but I only have a little internet time to post. For the sake of your corneas you may want to ration your readings over a few days or turn the brightness down on your computer. 🙂

I have worked mostly with children in the area (Turkish/Muslim/Gypsies), Romanian children, poor children from farming families outside the city, and the children in and from the slums. In each situation the number of children who attend the programs far exceeds the number of parents who come for the services or Bible studies. In many households we have visited, the parents and grandparents explain how free they are from the restrictive Orthodox church or of how they want to live their own lives in their own way. What I have learned from this is that, while many children attend the program (15 avg. in Peştera, 40 avg at Golgota, 30 in the slums, and 15 in the Turkish church) , many will no longer come to church when they are too old for the program. In other words, while the kids are doing a wonderful job at listening to and learning from the stories, as adults they will not darken the doors of a church. The stories have no lasting effects on their lives. When I am confronted with this I hold onto God’s promise in Isaiah that his World will not come back void.

My prayer is that these ‘free’ people would taste the freedom that the Lord offers to us through his salvation. I pray that they would learn of and exercise their freedom to enjoy Him instead of living in their slavery to sin. Because they are so poor, many live lives of addiction, sex slavery, and anger. Please pray with me that God would bring a new dawn of His glory in their lives and that they would begin to hunger for something that would truly satisfy. Pray that God would continue to call people from his kingdom to feed these Gypsies with His words and that they would search for freedom from the tyrannical hold of their sins.

Now that you have prayer requests and you have a little of an idea of what God is doing here in Romania and in my life, let me share with you a few stories to further highlight what I’ve already told you (and in some cases provide a little amusement and/or comic relief).

Many of you know that I have been in prayer about whether or not God is calling me to long term service with the Roma (Gypsies). As I approached the halfway mark of the trip, I began to wonder what that affirmation would feel like if it came: a lightning bolt, and gradual realization, a still, small whisper that I had already missed? My answer was two-fold, and both parts hit me in the same day – one like a load of bricks and the other like falling into a soft bed at the end of a day of hard work.

The load of bricks came first. I was working at the Turkish church like I normally do in the mornings and I was pleased to see Sibel there that day. She is 11 years old, stunningly gorgeous, and smart as a whip. The Turkish Gypsies are given no education, and many of them are worse off that the Romanian Gypsies. Some of them can still only speak Turkish (the last time I told a story it had to be translated into Romanian, and then Turkish for the kids; the story was, appropriately, the Tower of Babel). Anyhow, Sibel has been given no education except what could be given at the church, and she can read and write and do some mathematics. She also has learned some Bible stories and can quote some verses. I had just played tag with her in the parc the night before and I was struck by how universal tickle tag is because she played the same way my little brother Jacob does. Monica told me afterwards that Sibel’s mother had married her off the summer before (because she is so beautiful and smart) to an old man for money. Monica was so happy to see her because it meant she had run away. She came late to the program at the church, with her brother and sisters and we had just started to color when her mom stormed into the church. They were speaking in rapid-fire Turkish, so none of us could understand exactly what they were saying, but Sibel started to cry along with her cousin, and her mother grabbed her by the arm and started to drag her out. Her mother was taking her back and none of us could do anything to stop it because it is perfectly legal and we would be beaten if we tried. Sibel resisted as much as she could, but she wasn’t crying hysterically. It was sort of a resigned understanding cry, and it broke my heart. I haven’t been drowned in suffering during my life, but I have seen plenty, especially on other mission trips. Nothing hit me so hard as when Sibel was taken away. I felt like she was my little sister (because she was so close to Jacob in age?) and I was so overwhelmed that I couldn’t even cry.

Later that day I was in Peştera and still exhausted from lack of sleep and what had happened that morning. Fratele Corneliu had brought the Legend of the Three Trees cartoon, so I didn’t have a lesson, and I was just sitting on a bench with a couple of the girls on either side of me. I had my arms around them during the cartoon, and after it was over they just leaned in closer and none of us wanted to move. I felt perfectly content – you know, like those times when you know you are smack-dab in the center of God’s will? – and I literally felt the joy and love inside of me start to gush for them from a heart much bigger than my own.

Later that night after those two experiences and the next day I was praying and God began to show me that He had given me a piece of his heart for the people here. I have cried for them and prayed for them for so long, but I wanted to make sure that God wanted me with them, not just that I desired it. I have no doubt that I’ll be back, even though I don’t know God’s timing yet. If God has truly lent me His eyes to see this people’s pain, and a piece of his desire to glorify His name among them, I don’t know that I’ll be able to stay away – maybe only for as long as Jeremiah could stand the burning in his bones and keep quiet.

During my time here in Romania I have really come to have a new understanding of the story of the Fall. I really have. 🙂 I have come to believe that the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil was a Corcoduş tree. That’s a tree here in Romania and it has a fruit kind of like a plum. They grow wild here and everyone just picks a few as they walk by one on the road. The fruit is delicious and good to eat. I’m just sure it was the one Adam and Eve ate one because they are so delicious and tempting. I climbed up a hill with a friend to get to some ripe ones and ended up sliding back down. The tree I was holding onto stabbed me and gave me a nice puncture wound with a big knot and a beautiful bruise. I experienced the consequences of sin firsthand. 🙂

I went to the Black Sea Monday with the Norway team before they left. It was wonderful. By the way, Vagar has been flown home to Norway after he was held for a little while longer here because of an infection scare, so while he is still in a coma, now he is home. We swam and I found some beautiful shells and I shucked sunflower seeds on the beach like a real Romanian. Florin got very sunbunt because he didn’t use sunscreen. I forgot mine too but I sat under the umbrella some of the time and I just got a little pink for a few hours. We were there from about 9 to 6:30 except for when we went to eat lunch. Tuesday Frate Cornel Dema (the pastor of Golgota and a big joker) called me a cartofi (potato) and Florine a roşi (tomato). He always makes vegetable jokes because when we first met someone told him I could name the vegetables growing in his garden and so we spent a few minutes pointing and naming.

Well, thanks for reading. I hope you learned something or got your curiosity quenched and learned about some prayer requests. I’ll finish off with some humor, if you don’t mind. Thanks for the prayers, and I’ll see you again soon!

Romanian expressions:

1.”Tu esti varzǎ.” Literally translated, it means ‘you are cabbage.’ It is an insult, kind of like ‘You’re a jerk’ or goober or loser. If you say this to someone with the right tone of voice it can be taken as a light-hearted jab. I have yet to say it to anyone, but maybe sometime soon. 🙂

  1. “Anything is possible in Romania.” This is a catch-all statement used to excuse anything that happens out-of-the-ordinary. Why are the Gypsy children bathing naked in the nice fountains and pools in the square and no one is trying to stop them? Oh… anything is possible in Romania. Why do the horse-drawn Gypsy carts use car tires? Because anything is possible in Romania. 🙂
  2. ‘It will pass by the time I get married.’ This is an old gypsy saying appropriately used when you are hurt or something is inconvenient. Monica says it to me anytime either of us takes notice of a scratch or sunburn or a stubbed toe. “Yes, it hurts, but it will pass till I get married”. She says it to me sometimes too. For example, I broke a plate when I was cleaning the other day and she said, “Don’t worry, it will pass till you are married.” We both laugh because neither of us have much on the horizon in terms of prospective husbands. 🙂
  3. The proper greeting to men at church is “Peace bro.”I thought it was kind of funny, considering the alternate meaning that phrase has in my American context. 🙂 Actually, they say “Pace frate (PAH-chay FRAH-tay),” and frate is short for fratele, or brother.
  4. “You have a giant head.” This is, contrary to the American reading of it, a compliment. It means you are smart or you learn quickly. There is no sarcasm or mocking in it; the phrase is just a plain and simple compliment (so if I say it to any of you when I come back home, don’t be offended). 🙂
  5. “Have a funny dream.” This one is an amusing way to say goodnight to someone. It is the equivalent of ‘sleep well’ because you wish them a refreshing and restful sleep.

One Week Old Romanian

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I’m a week-old Romanian!! I will have officially been in Romania for a week at somewhere around 1 o’clock tomorrow morning your time. I am practically immersed in the language, and I am learning quickly. I thank God every time I think about it because the people here see it as an effort to relate to them and they appreciate it and listen to what I have to say. I’m sure you’ve heard the saying, “They don’t care what you say until they see that you care.” I know numbers, foods, days of the week, important phrases, colors, some church words, a few other everyday nouns, and the alphabet. I think this week I’m going to tackle some verbs and conjugation. They are harder than the hard parts of both French and Spanish combined. The little bit I know of French and Spanish have been a gift as well. Because I know words from those languages (and because some body language is universal) I can often guess correctly the topic, and sometimes the content, of a conversation. I have learned the song  “Head, shoulders, knees, and toes” in Romanian, and I am starting to learn others. God has blessed me in so many ways that I am overwhelmed. He is helping me to learn the language, He has blessed me with a wonderful Romanian family (Gaby and Gigi repeatedly tell me that I am their American daughter and they are my Romanian parents), the people I work with are wonderful Christians, and He has given me a burning love for the children here that spurs me to teach and play and sing and laugh with them. Thank you all for the prayers; I am blessed too with friends and family back home who are praying earnestly for me and for the people I bring God’s love to.

I had my first week of ministry, and everything went well. I loved working with the Norwegians. Half of them speak English just like you guys, and some of them speak with British accents, and only a few have a Norwegian accent when they talk. Thursday evening after one of our afternoon camps some of their group was wrapping up and playing with some children on a soccer field when one of the Norwegian boys got run over by a car. The car was going over 100 kilometers per hour (I have yet to figure that out in miles, but when Gigi drives me somewhere at 120 I feel like my eyeballs are coming out the back of my head). He was responsive immediately afterwards, but soon after he got to the hospital he went into a coma. He had a head injury and shattered bones in one of his arms, and the skin was all ripped up on that arm and his side. He was moved to the capital the next day, and his parents are there now with him. It was a huge shock to the team, but God has been faithful in providing the strength and motivation to continue to work. Please pray for them as they seek healing and deal with this event. The boy (Vagard) is still in a coma, and we don’t know how things will turn out.

Please pray for the team as they continue to deal with the accident and formulate understandings of God’s character. I was able to go to the church and talk and pray with a few of them the night of the accident. Most importantly I was able to listen when they needed to talk and didn’t want to talk to a team member or when their leaders were busy. I pray that I was a blessing to some of them – they certainly were to me.

Anyway, ministry went well this week. I was at Pestera for two of the mornings and Golgota every evening, and Thursday and Saturday (today) I was able to go to the Turkish church (mostly Turkish Gypsies who were, at least marginally, Muslim) and work with the kids. The Norway team had Bible lessons for all of the sites, but one evening they didn’t go to Golgota and one afternoon Fratele Cornel Dema and the Farm team and Florin and I went into the slums to have a lesson with the kids there. Those two times I did the Bible story and had a great time. We sang “Singing in the Rain” with the kids at Golgota and in the slums, and they love it (that’s the one where you end up looking like an epileptic duck at the end of the song after all the motions). The schedule was crazy this week, but my days were filled with the most beautiful children and teaching and serving and my gibberish Romanian. Next week things will be a little more solid, and I’ll be responsible for a lot more. Please pray for energy and sensitivity to God’s leading. I’m exhausted after this week, so next week I pray for extra focus of my mind and heart on things above. Perspective is very important when working with these children.

Alright… One more highlight of the week and I’ll close with a little humor. Andrea and Roxy left on Thursday (that’s not the highlight – that made me terribly sad), but before they left they taught me the alphabet and some pronunciation rules. Romanian pronunciation is not that hard once you get used to it. Anyhow, when we had the camp in the slums we made salvation bracelets with the kids. Florin was busy with some other group of kids and I had the little ones and those who couldn’t read. There was a note inside their bags of beads and twine that explained the meaning of each color and the knots in Romanian as well as English. I knew my colors by that time, but I because of the alphabet lessons I was able to read the Romanian words that explain the colors’ meanings to the kids. It was a blast. The only problem is that some of them still somehow think I can understand Romanian (after I shook my head and said “Nu inteleg” a thousand times).

Romanian Food Rules: (Preparation for anyone with a possibility of visiting Romania soon)

  1. “You try… This pepper not very hot” means “This pepper is very hot – so hot you’ll get second-degree burns inside your mouth if you try it. Oh, and I won’t tell you until you’ve already taken a (small) bite, but it’s too hot for us too, so we only nibble on it. ”
  2. When eating sunflower seeds like a real Romanian (anywhere you please, shelling them with your fingernails, and dropping the shells anywhere on the ground where you are standing or walking), do not wear closed-toe shoes with open holes in the top. You’ll be too embarrassed to dig it out of your shoe in front of everyone, so you’ll be stabbed in the toe with every consequent movement.
  3. (This is not a rule, but worthy of note, all the same.) If you didn’t like carbonated water before you came to Romania, don’t expect anything different once you get here.

-Caroline