Another little niece is here!  We barely got the photo downloaded, but thankfully got to see a beautiful picture of my sister and her husband with their three little kiddos! I can’t hardly believe it.

And I can’t wait to meet little Sophie sometime soon.

The students study many hours a day. Our schedule looks something like this:

Wake at 5:30am for chores, homework, laundry until 8am; breakfast and cleanup.
Class from 9am to 12pm, lunch, and class from 1pm to 3pm.
Chores, showers, and rest until 5pm; dinner and cleanup.
Prayer & Bible reading at 6pm, until about 6:30pm.

I will note here that this schedule tends to run ahead, usually about fifteen minutes.

And then in the evenings, we have more study time from about 6:30pm to 9pm. The electricity and internet is on from 6pm to 9pm, so this is when we can do research projects, study computer, or use the keyboard for singing. Stephen is also teaching a camera course two nights a week to train them on the three cameras the school shares.

And our latest idea? Movies. It practices their English, can provide some cultural lessons, and honestly, just gives them a chance to have some fun. We settled on every Friday night being movie night.

We chose five films and had them vote on them. Surprisingly, they first chose a documentary on Karen resettlement called Moving to Mars. They seemed to really enjoy it, and it has some funny bits to it. It is also a little sad, though, as the families struggle to adjust to a new culture and miss their homeland.

However, the movie night was very popular, and it was approved by the teachers to our Saturday evening activity, too.

And this time, we found ourselves hearing the dinner bell at 4:30pm, and we had finished the prayer & Bible reading at 6pm.

They were very excited to watch a movie.

This time they voted on Home Alone, which was so much fun.

They laughed so hard at every little bit of slapstick humor. There is something really hilarious about a whole group of students rolling on the floor at something even slightly funny.  You can’t help but laugh because they are simply delighted.

And it was a nice ring into the for us; nothing like Home Alone to make it feel like Christmas 🙂

Yesterday, we were discussing development: political, social, and economic. I was asking the students to provide examples of what the world measures as economic development.

Ultimately, this will lead into our research on statistics around the world and establishing where Burma is in the development process: underdeveloped, developing, or developed.

For economic development, we look at per capita income to show general wealth, inflation to show the stability of the economy, and a few technology statistics, as technology use generally increases as the economy grows. I was attempting to have them get to each of these areas, asking directed questions to promote thought and discussion. One of my questions was this: if you were given more money, what would you buy?

My aim was for them to answer in technology items: a computer, a phone; I’d even take a house with electricity or a motorbike and wrap that up in technology. But the answers I received?

Help their community with food; give money to the clinics to help the sick; give it to the church.

It didn’t prove my point, but instead a much greater one–not because they give the right answers for Christianity, but because the story of Scripture is within them.

As I was updating the curriculum last week, I added some types of economies. We discuss different types of government, but communism inevitably comes up; I needed to explain the difference between types of government and types of economies, and how we refer to them together.

This led to dividing economies into two types: command economies, where the government controls every aspect, and market economies, where private businesses and individuals control every aspect. I go on to explain that countries aren’t purely command or purely market; they are somewhere on the spectrum. I describe that communism is a type of command economy and capitalism is a type of market economy.

As I researched and attempted to clearly explain these economies, it is interesting to see their goals. The aim of communism is equality. Theoretically, it is believed that as humans we could not adequately divide wealth, but if the governing body takes on this role, we could achieve equality.

In capitalism, the aim is the same, but the theory opposite. It is believed that if we leave it up to the individual, we will naturally all act in our own benefit, and the invisible hand of the market will equalize us.

And in both scenarios, the aim was never achieved. In capitalism, the selfishness of the governing body was not considered. And in capitalism, the selfishness of man was underestimated.

Selfishness won, and inequalities exist everywhere to a very great extent.

As I read and study a variety of political analyses, economic theories, and evaluations of humankind for university, my current job, and pure interest, it continues to amaze me  the ways that everything comes back to the truth of Scripture. The truth that we are all groaning for something more, that sin entered through one man and life entered through another. The truth in 1 Corinthians 13:10,12-13, that

“when the perfect comes, the partial will pass away…
For now we see in a mirror dimly, but then face to face.
Now I know in part; then I shall know fully,
even as I have been fully known.
So now faith, hope, and love abide these three;
but the greatest of these is love.”

The truth that our theories, best attempts, and genius efforts are just a dim reflection. Even the beautiful love in the students here; the genuine desire to see families, friends, and community with full stomachs, healed bodies, and living in hope: this is still a reflection.

The truth that one day, we’ll see faith, hope, and love fully, and it will be far more glorious.

“When we truly discover love,
capitalism will not be possible
and Marxism will not be necessary.”
Will O’Brien

They’re coming again!

My parents just booked tickets to arrive on 8 December, and stay with us through Christmas! We’re pretty excited to have holiday visitors, and even more to be able to complete their trip. We are hoping they can catch a glimpse into our lives.

And it will certainly be an honest, interesting glimpse. We will be back home just a couple days before they arrive. Within a week we will see over twenty hours of bus rides.

Even so, we’ll happily take two!

We’re here: in the middle of nowhere, where time seems to stand still.

It’s been three days and feels like two weeks.

We have internet access at certain times of the day, namely, when we have electricity through a generator. There is a sudden rush to send off needed emails, charge the computer for our work, and attempt any research on questions asked in class through the day.

This time on the internet baffles me: I am irresolute between two worlds. One that seems so structured around the sun, the jobs to be completed for survival, and study. Study, study, study: languages, Bible, life skills. They are focused on each task and each day with quiet, strong determination.

And the other world, full of photos and stories. Every time I open email or Facebook, it just feels so fast: so much has changed, there are so many big events, and deadlines to be met. The focus is so much bigger, faster, and full of zeal.

I try to present those equally. I don’t really believe one is better than the other; each has its beautiful qualities and its horrid faults.

I simply mean to emphasize that they are just so different.

And to be caught between both is a little nauseating, to be honest.

Either way, we are happy to step into this world for a short time. The icy cold showers are refreshing; the glorious roaring of insects at night is beautiful to sleep to. The stars are breathtaking. And there are many things to be taught and learned.
I found my first leech on me, which left a little to be desired. I also came within closest contact of a snake, found about an inch from my exposed foot. I turned in time to calmly inform Stephen behind me, I saw it slither past his foot.

I’ll freely admit that both the leech and snake were small, but disconcerting all the same.

My wake-up call each morning has been icy cold drops of water falling to my exposed face. We’re not certain, but I think it is condensation gathered on the tin roof, slowly compiling overnight and dripping through a ceiling joint between the early hours of three and four. Somehow, they always land directly on my face, even when I shift to the right, left, or down.

And it’s cold. 

But even the cold is quite refreshing, namely because it doesn’t happen very often in our lives! It’s feeling just a little bit more like the holidays, which are coming faster than I know what to do with, at least on the other side of the world.

So here we are.

We are in an odd little town mid-way on our journey, passing through a run down little guesthouse. We went out to find a restaurant for dinner last night and happened upon some of the best pizza we’ve had in Thailand. Amazing.

We then went for a little walk through town and came upon the best English bookstore I’ve found in Thailand! It was adorable with the books well-kept and organized. Plenty to search through and be intrigued by.

And then we did go back to the guesthouse and read. We’re reading through the Giver series together, on the third book before we start Lois Lowry’s newest and the conclusion to the series, Son. They are all brilliant.

It was a pretty lovely evening.

We had such good intentions.

I mailed in our absentee ballot requests months ago, we faxed them just to be sure. We received the ballots in the mail and put them aside to faithfully do our research and make decisions.

Life happened in there somewhere, including my parents coming and leaving, three trips to Chiang Mai in a month, and many other messy things.

I looked at the dates: we had time, it could be postmarked even ten days after the election. I put it in my notebook and wrote reminders everywhere.

Earlier this week, we sat down to do our research. We filled out the ballots. We put them in envelopes.

I reread the instructions and the dates, now seeing that the ballots instead had to arrive within ten days of the election. They must be postmarked the day of, in the American time zone. And we’d missed it.

I had read it wrong the first time, thus making all following notes to myself wrong.

Epic fail.

I teach a course on democracy, the importance of voting, the value of individual participation. The incredible blessing that our government is has never been so apparent to me as it has been in the past year.

And yet I didn’t vote, because I was unorganized. I feel like it deserves a confession.

I feel like Meg Ryan in You’ve Got Mail as she flightily recalls, “I have something to tell you, Frank. I didn’t vote. In the last mayoral election, when Rudy Giuliani was running against Ruth Messenger, I went to get a manicure and forgot to vote.”

So there you have it: this is my confession. I have been preaching the value of voting to a number of students, and I myself forgot to vote. Worse, I led my husband astray and assured him I was watching the dates.

And on that note, I begin another course this week as a very unbecoming teacher.

We had just gotten back from our weekend trek and showered. I plopped on the bed in the air conditioning.

It was very refreshing.

Then I hear, “Kelli! Kelli! Water!” through the window.

This is not uncommon. Most times we are home, and probably even when we are not, there are always little shouts of “Kelli! Stephen!” at our windows. And water is a very popular request.

I can’t blame them.  Today was hot, and I enjoyed a cold glass of water, too.

Unfortunately, water is a very difficult item to set boundaries for. (Hmm? See the previous post and see how “white” I am in saying just that.)

When a child is outside asking for dolls or cars or coloring, it is easier to set limits. They don’t need these things. They will find other means of entertainment.

But water is a necessity. And while they do have it, it is not necessarily clean water and it is not refreshingly cold.

I wanted to simply sit, rest, and enjoy the cool air, so I asked Stephen, “Do you think it’s okay if I wait and give them water later?”

It was a cop out.

I don’t even know what he replied, because I knew right away that I was being lazy. I rolled off the bed and shuffled to the kitchen for water.

I opened the door to see two little girls I don’t see very often.  The older girl is about five, and she cares for her little sister who is about fifteen months.

They drank thirstily.

Just a couple hours later, I was leaving the house to run to the market. I opened the door to find the same two girls, now half-naked, sleeping on our porch.

And a little while after that, I noticed the leftover sticky rice and pork we had picked up on our bike ride earlier in the day. I brought it outside and offered it to them, to which the little girl gave a quick thank you and opened it. She sweetly enjoyed it and shared with her little sister.

They had some more water, too, because sticky rice & pork makes you thirsty.

_________________________

Somehow, those two little girls were Christ to me yesterday. I knew it right when I obligingly opened the door to share water.

Though I might be mistaken, they seemed sent by the Holy Spirit. A reminder that I should love well because Christ is surrounding me.

I have continually come back to Matthew 25:34-40, “Then the King will say to those on his right, ‘Come, you who are blessed by my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world. For I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me, I was naked and you clothed me, I was sick and you visited me, I was in prison and you came to me.’ Then the righteous will answer him, saying, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you a drink? And when did we see you a stranger and welcome you, or naked and clothe you? And when did we see you sick or in prison and visit you?’ And the King will answer them, ‘Truly, I say to you, as you did it to one of the least of these my brothers, you did it to me.'”

Not only should I be willing to love well and leave my own momentary air conditioned comfort behind, but I need to seek to make the most of each situation. Different children will come, and they each need a glass of water handed to them with a smile. They each need a hug, or a chance to play with magnets and dolls. Or they each need someone to put a bandaid on their knee.

Sometimes even when the wound has been scabbed over for days.

_________________________

I’ve had a hard time recently.

There have been some stressors in our work, whether it be unknowns or frustrations. Many times we just feel disconnected and we ache to feel like we are part of a team.

I’ve had a hard time being so far from family. My sister is having her third child in the next week or two, and this is the third child I’ve been in Thailand for their birth. We just met Stephen’s newest little nephew last week on Skype, and got to talk to his now two-year-old brother who wanted us to catch the ball he kept throwing at the screen.

There are little things, as well. Stephen’s parents just put his childhood home on the market, and his grandmother, after the death of his grandfather in February, just moved out of the house he has always known his grandparents to live in.  Some of these small things–just buildings really–provide more security than you realize. It seems to be a reminder that we will be coming back to a different place and different people than we left.

I find myself expecting that if we are going to miss out on so much and leave things and people and familiarity behind, that our work should be worth it.

And sometimes–maybe even most times–I question if it is.

Or I expect that the blessings will outweigh the mounting sorrows, and I question if they will.

But these are simply my expectations, my hopes, and my standards. My definitions of what work is worth it and what blessings look like. My perspectives of who is worthy and what I’m offering and what the eternal outcomes are.

So really, it comes down to a very confused heart.

And that heart really just needed these two kids to show up at my door yesterday, to be Christ to me.  And maybe–what if they were Christ to me and I could be Christ to them? What if the Holy Spirit showed up simply for an open door and little glass of water to change both of our days?

I’ve been meaning to post this, but it always seems to come to me when I’m not around a computer.

A couple of weeks ago I made a trip to Umphang & Noh Poe camp with Yim, who recently started working with me in Social Development. When we were on the way back, having already driven about eight hours of very curvaceous roads and staring at another two or three hours ahead of us, Yim asked if I needed her to drive. She said I looked tired–which I was. And then she said something along the lines of:

“White people, they have limits. But Karen, we are unlimited.”

Hmm.

Initially I was a little offended; as if I wanted to prove that I could handle something significant. Which, is untrue and unworthy of argument.

But the more I thought about it, I think my culture, “white people” if you’ll take it, teaches you find your limits. To create margin. To set boundaries.

Do you notice that those are all book titles?

We are taught to identify these lines to prevent ourselves from insanity, harm, sorrow, or pain.

I don’t see that in Karen culture. I see that they are willing to just keep going; or perhaps they have to. There are people to feed, lives to save, a country to secure. And honestly, there always have been, for at least what the recent generations have known.

So perhaps she was right. And her culture allows her to say it honestly!