The Incident

As promised, here is the terrible story of yesterday’s ordeal. So it started out as any ordinary day. We were planning to leave for the north at 10 AM to stay there for 6 days giving surveys. Hannah and I were rushing around in the morning running errands to make sure everything was ready. (We had run out of Nutella and we weren’t about to spend 6 days in our tiny apartment without some form of Chocolate, so we fit in a run to the store.) We had to hurry, but we were packed and ready to go at 10. We then got a text from our translator saying that he would be “delayed” because he had to help Will (our boss) with something in the morning. We weren’t too fazed by this. The three of us had originally planned to meet our first group at 2:30 PM so we still had plenty of time to get there.

            Then an hour and a half went by and we were still waiting. At this point it was getting close to the point when we would miss our meeting. We tried to reach Mawousse, but he wouldn’t pick up. We figured he must not have made the appointment with the group after all and knows that we don’t need to be up there until later. Another hour passes and we get a text from Mawousse saying he will be coming soon and he is sorry, but he had to work for Kwasi (our other boss and pastor of the church we thought we were meeting today) after he finished working for Will. Hannah and I were a bit confused, but still fine because we figured he had our schedule figured out.

            At 2:30 PM, we call and finally get a hold of him and he promises he is on his way now. At 3:00 PM, he rings our doorbell (that’s 5 hours late if you’re keeping up with the math). Mawousse apologizes for “the delay.” (I’m really starting to hate that word. I think we have different definitions of what “delay” really means.) We say it’s ok and we thought we had a meeting at 2:30, but he must not have scheduled it so it’s ok. He then informs us that, no, he had scheduled it, everyone came and waited for us, called him wondering where we were and he said we would instead be there at 5:30. “Deep breaths, Kristin, deep breaths.” That’s what I was telling myself to avoid a culturally inappropriate scene in which I lose my cool. My organized, on-top-of-things, ethical researcher personality is freaking out at the thought of having wasted people’s time. I know it will only be worse if I question him, so I just ask for the facts and say we need to get moving if we’re gonna make it there by 5:30. I knew there was no way we would make it there in three hours, but we had to try. Our reputations as good researchers had already been slashed and trampled on and all we could do now was try to show that we are very respectful of the time they are giving up by trying to be on time.

            We get to the taxi park (also known as my least favorite part of all of Togo. It’s insane. You drive in and 20 men literally swarm your car asking where you want to go and trying to grab your luggage and put it in their cars. I’m really good at not letting them touch any of my stuff though.) and it is 3:45 before we get going because everyone is fighting over us and we literally had to strap a motorcycle into the trunk because Mawousse was bringing it up north for Kwasi. I think this whole taxi park scene was God answering every prayer I’ve ever prayed for more patience . . . The monochronic American in me was not happy. But we got on the road and I asked Mawousse to call the church facilitator and move the meeting back because there was absolutely no way we would make it there by 5:30. He called and said that the church facilitator would try to get people to come, but they were all very disappointed that we missed our first meeting and he did not know if anyone would come. Then, a little piece of me died inside. All Hannah and I are here to do this summer is research. We want to be good researchers with integrity who respect the time and opinions of those we are researching. We aren’t here to give them anything but our listening ears and the results of our research at the end of the summer, and we couldn’t even give these people (who need SO much) that. The church facilitator said he would call back if he got anyone to agree to come. There was nothing I could do at this point but wait and pray, which I did.

            I’m currently reading Radical by David Platt and decided to read chapter three in the taxi ride. (Side note: If you haven’t read Radical, you really should. Every Christian American should read it. It will shake you from the daze you don’t realize you are in, or at least it has for me.) So as I’m reading it, I’m reading how we so often limit the work God is doing to what we as capable (but finite) humans can accomplish. Yes we are great at things, yes we can do a lot, but we can do NOTHING compared to what God in His infinite power can do. Platt challenges his readers to ask God to work in ways that prove His greatness. If we only accomplish what we could have accomplished in our own power anyway, we are tempted to steal all the glory for ourselves. If, instead, we call on God to do His will in such a mighty way that it could only have come from his great power, we readily give the glory to God. It makes so much sense and is so challenging at the same time, especially to someone like me who prides herself on all she accomplishes. It was very humbling and I began to pray that God would reveal his glory, not my own, through my time and work in Togo.

            By this time, I was feeling a lot calmer about the whole situation. There was nothing more I could do and God had everything under control anyway (as much as I would have liked to have it under my control as well. . . but we’re working on this so called “need-for-control” problem, aren’t we?) So when we get closer and Mawousse calls the church facilitator again, we learn that no one else would come meet us because they had given up a lot to be there (it was there market day) and they could not afford to come again. C’est la vie. I just prayed that God would redeem the situation despite our irresponsible planning.

            What happened next was enough to crack the fragile shell of my temporary calmness. We arrived at our apartment and decided to have a meeting with Mawousse to go over the survey and schedule the next few days (a.k.a. make sure nothing like this ever, ever happens again). Just as we sat down though, Janine, Kwasi’s wife, calls Mawousse and again asks where we were. She then said the worst thing a young researcher with high hopes and big dreams of being a good researcher can hear. She and all the women were still waiting at the church for us! I have never felt so terrible. They had been waiting since 2:30! It had been FIVE HOURS!!!!! I’m can’t even begin to understand this African culture, the amount of miscommunication and poor planning it took to create this situation, the irresponsibleness of it all, and the damage this would do to our reputation as researchers. Mouths still dropped to the floor in shock, the three of us hopped on motos and raced to the church.

            We pulled up and everyone started clapping and laughing. There were about 12 women—some who had been there since 2:30 and some who had come at 5:30. We apologized profusely. They have this rule in their group that if they are late to a savings meeting, then have to pay a small fine. As a joke, they had the money pot out for us to pay our fine. We were more than happy to oblige this rule and quickly dropped in our coins (I would have dropped in the entire contents of my wallet if I thought that would have helped the situation at all) They all thought it was just the funniest thing though and laughed and laughed with us. They were laughing because it was funny. I was laughing out of hysteria because there was nothing else to do at this point in our unbelievable, ridiculous day.

            It was now 7:30 and most of the women wanted to be interviewed (though some left a little later as soon as we said they were of course free to go). We then let Janine and Mawousse explain the whole mix up and reason that we were late. I then asked to say a few words that they translated for me. I apologized profusely and said we had no idea they were waiting for us all day and we never would have let that happen if we had known. We respect their time very much and we are so sorry that we wasted it, especially on a market day. They all made gestures that sad it was ok and they were not mad. I then told them how much it means to us that they would be willing to wait all day just to meet with us and how touched we are that our sisters in Christ are so selfless. I think that patched things up as best they could be patched and we started the interviews. We were able to call our other translator who came literally on two minutes notice and then double-timed the interviews.

            Here’s where God answered that prayer about using my work to reveal His own glory. Absolutely everything that was in my control that day utterly failed, but He used it anyway. Hannah and I gave a total of 9 interviews (when we had only planned to give 6 that day) and realized that our survey is smoother than we thought and takes less time to give than we planned. What the heck? How is that the ending to this terrible story? Utter failure renders wild success. That’s obviously a God thing. (Man, it was rough getting there though. God is so quick to answer these painful, sanctifying prayers.)

The rest of the women who couldn’t wait then said they could meet us before church the next day because they were so eager to be interviewed (probably just because they had waited so long, not because we’re awesome or anything). So this morning, we went to the church at 7:30 AM and interviewed 7 more women that we weren’t even originally planning to interview on this trip. Talk about Grace. We totally messed everything up, but got great and abundant research out of it anyway. God is good.

Now, Hannah and I really hope this counts as our “failure” for the internship. There’s a running joke that our professors won’t count our internship a true success until we fail at something. . . or everything, we can't be sure. We are definitely to perfectionists and overachievers of our class and they lovingly want us to learn the valuable lesson of failing. LESSON LEARNED!!! I hope. I really hope this counts and we can never have to go through anything like this again. I’ll keep you posted.

Keep praying for us. We’re through day two of interviews and have already done 29! It’s going really well, with the exception of “the incident.” That’s what I’m gonna call it from now on, “the incident.” We hope to get about 50 more before Thursday. Pray for good interviews, honest answers, stamina in the long hours, and for people to feel loved through the time short amount of time we are spending with them. Also, I encourage you all to pray a scary prayer this week. We don’t often enough ask God for the hard things (like patience and for His glory to be so huge, we are lost in the shadow of it). So that’s your challenge. Pray a scary prayer and watch how God answers it. I’d love to hear about them.

            

History in the making...

What happened today will go down in the history of terrible stories of Community Development interns. It involves a lot of miscommunication, hours of waiting for multiple parties, lots of valuable time wasted, more hysteric laughter (see previous post) and God proving himself good through it all. Details to come. We're in crazy survey mode right now and all I have time to do is sleep (skipped dinner and everything...praise the Lord for cliff bars).

This is a request for prayer for tomorrow especially and the rest of the week. We are trying to meet with two different savings groups to survey them. It could go smoothly or it could go like... well like today did. And let me tell you, we DON'T want that again. So pray for the coordination of a lot of people to come together so good research can be done, people can feel valued and heard, and God would be glorified. For real, he deserves it.

Story of My Life....

So today was just kind of ridiculous. I would say frustrating, but it was all so funny that that word just doesn’t fit. All day, Hannah and I were steeling glances at each other that wordlessly said, “Is this seriously happening right now?” Whether it be for good reasons or bad reasons, so many things made us ask that today. We spent the day in Lome interviewing church facilitators. We’ve done this in the north, but never in the city, and it was… an adventure. Our day started out with Will picking us up in his truck where he had fresh chocolate croissants waiting for us. Yes, the alternative spelling for that last sentence is b-e-s-t-b-o-s-s-e-v-e-r. Then, we get to his house and realize (because I forgot to check my texts, whoops) that we are an hour too early for our first meeting. We were planning to meet our translator, Mawousse, at Will’s and to borrow Will’s moto so we wouldn’t have to pay for three motos to drive us around all day. Will had to leave as soon as we got there, but Mawousse wasn’t getting there for another 30 minutes at least, so Will left us his keys which we were to then leave with his landlord so he could get back in later that day. Will peaced out and Hannah and I waited for Mawousse.

When he got there, he asked for the key to Will’s moto….. you would think that one of the three of us Americans would have thought of this, since it was the whole reason we had gone to Will’s in the morning, but alas, we did not. Hannah looked through the house anyway incase there was an extra key, she found one that said “Italy” on it and excitedly shouted down to us to ask if it was the right one. Mawousse and I just kind of looked at each other and shook our heads. “No Hannah, but thanks anyway!” Mawousse then showed me his key as an example of what it would look like. It’s a strange little circle key that just seemed to mock me. You see, yesterday, Hannah and I borrowed Will’s keys and wondered what the strange little circle one was for…. We even asked someone what it was because we were so curious. Well, now I know. And I don’t appreciate the way I feel it mocking me. I then knew for sure that Will had it with him and we wouldn’t be able to borrow the moto. There was now no point in having had Will pick us up and leave us his house keys…. except we still got chocolate croissants out of it, so I think it was worth it.

            Mawousse then decided that the next best alternative would be to take his moto… it’s more like a dirt bike than a moto though. That’s important for the story to make sense. So we lock up at Will’s leave the keys with his landlord and catch a moto for me as Hannah hops on the back of Mawousse’s. We then took a really pretty moto ride to the university. The campus is very lush and tree-covered, which is a nice change from the usual city atmosphere. We pulled over on the side of some random road and waited for the church facilitator we were supposed to meet at 9:30. The next 40 minutes was characterized by confusion, impatience, and gawking. Confusion because we were trying to reach the church facilitator and describe to him where we were (but the best landmarks were unidentifiable buildings and trees, so… that when well). Impatience because we literally waited 40 minutes on the side of the road. And gawking because there was literally a herd of cows that we saw off in the distance slowly walking towards us. They were the strangest cows I had ever seen, and to be on a university campus, it was just so juxtaposed. They walked with in 2 feet of us and I couldn’t help but laugh at how ridiculous the whole situation was.

            Just as we sent a text to our church facilitator saying we were leaving because we were late for our next appointment, he showed up. We had a great interview with him though and I’m glad we stayed. He is studying English at the university so we didn’t need a translator for the first time in over 25 interviews. It was lovely. I actually understood everything he was trying to communicate! Celebrate the little victories, that’s my motto.

            After the interview, we went to get back on the motos. Hannah and I have the habit of always switching seats to subconsciously keep things fair, so I went to ride with Mawousse this time. Only, it was a little more difficult than I was expecting. Hannah, by a stroke of luck had chosen to wear pants that morning which is why she had such a successful moto experience the first time. I, unfortunately, chose a maxi shirt. Word to the wise: floor length skirts are not the easiest things to finagle when trying to ride a moto, especially this moto. Because it was a dirt bike style moto, the back of the seat is a lot higher than a regular moto, but doesn’t look it, that little deceptive thing…. So I went to get on the back (mind you, Hannah, the church facilitator, Mawousse and two moto drivers are all watching me…) and I didn’t quite make it. Between the mess of skirts and my failing depth perception, I nearly wiped out. Thankfully, I was wearing my Chacos (always ready for anything in those) and with some uncoordinated looking hop moves, managed to save the situation. Attempt two was also a failure, but by the third time and with my skirt gathered as modestly as I could manage, I got on. Whew.

            I thought that would be the end of my moto troubles… but I was wrong. All motos have this exhaust pipe on the back right-hand side that is scalding hot. You have to remember to get on and off on the left side to avoid getting burned. Hannah and I were told that we won’t be truly “Togolese” until we get our first moto burn on our right calf, and I am SO determined not to. Hannah fell victim last week and has a wicked burn that is still healing. (In her defense, her water bottle fell and she quickly hopped off the right side to grab it, forgetting for a moment the impending doom that awaited her on that side… an honest mistake.) So I am constantly aware of the exhaust pipe area and steer clear of it. I didn’t think that this bike would be different, but instead of being on the back right, the pipe was on the upper left, RIGHT where my leg was. Poor planning, bike designers. Seriously? Who does that? So as I was getting off, I burned my upper left leg, of all places. My cat like reflexes saved me from a bad burn, but still, it’s there and I’m mad at that sneaky exhaust pipe.

            From there we met two more church facilitators. One of them gave us each literally a liter of soda, which was so kind, but simultaneously terrifying. I knew I would have to finish all of it to not seem rude, so my tactic was slow and steady. I’m not a huge soda drinker to begin with, so this was a test of my will power and stamina. I made it though. Just in time. And all I could do to help Hannah was look at her in pity as she still had half of her bottle at the end of the interview. They told her to finish it so we could leave, and she drank as much as she could, but just wasn’t gonna win that battle. She gave up and tactfully made some joke about how it was so good but she is so full and they let her go. Whew.

Then, we made a friend in a jewelry shop. He asked if Hannah and I were married… that’s a default red flag. I was on edge, but I decided later that he was really just trying to be nice. He then tried to get me to try on silver earrings (which I realized later he was trying to give me as a gift. So sweet.) A little while later, we came back and he gave Hannah a silver bracelet, which he refused to let her refuse and promised to make me one too, since I didn’t want the earrings. When he was just fitting one on Hannah, I was a little concerned that this was the first step of his elaborate marriage proposal plan, but then he offered me one too and it felt more normal. Being in pairs is so nice sometimes. It makes situations way less awkward. So, as we left, I decided the scales had tipped from being a creepy situation to being a really sweet one where we made a new friend.

            From there, we were only supposed to see one more church facilitator, but Mawousse pulled a fast one on us and snuck another in. He’s so great and without him, we would probably be doing way less research. We always get tired and want to go home, but he keeps us moving. We had a great interview with her but it was past 1 PM and we thought we were going home so we could finally eat some lunch and type our notes. Nope! No rest for the weary or those who work with Mawousse. Back on the motos we went. Only this time, Hannah rode with Mawousse (which she volunteered for with the memory of my skirt fiasco still fresh in her mind. What a sweet friend) and they literally nearly tipped over. It was kind of hilarious. I tried not to laugh, but we all know I’m terrible at not laughing when I’m not supposed to be laughing. No actual tipping though, just near tipping, so it was all good.

            So we got to the next church facilitators shop and he did the unthinkable… offered us a sachet of water (they sell water in little sachets, or bags, on the street. It’s about 2 cups worth). I wanted to burst at the thought of drinking anything else, but we took them to be polite. I used my slow and steady tactic again and we ended up having another great interview with him. And it was really thoughtful of him to offer us water, I don’t want to seem ungrateful, it’s just too much hospitality in one day really isn’t good for one’s bladder.

At this point, Hannah and I just wanted to get home. It was 2 PM and we hadn’t eaten lunch and after drinking so much, I just really wanted to use the bathroom. Mawousse then informed us that we were near Kwasi’s house (Kwasi is sort of our boss here) and we must go for a visit. This was one of those times when I knew it would be culturally inappropriate to refuse, though I did kindly say we needed to hurry home. So, we took yet another moto ride to Kwasi’s around flooded out streets. I was just kind of laughing at everything at this point. It was so ridiculous. My burn was hurting, we were hungry, it was hot, and I was beginning to judge a little less harshly all the people who just go to the bathroom in the street. I think I know how they feel now. There’s not always a bathroom when you need one, so they just go wherever they want. This is something that really bothers me about Togo and I’m trying to get over, so this experience gave me a little more empathy for them. A little… but not enough for me to get over it. I know I have especially high standards for hygiene, cleanliness and sanitation issues, but come on people! That’s just not okay.

            Anyway, I’ll get off my soapbox and wrap this up. We sat at Kwasi’s for maybe 15 minutes, just chatting. This was after Mawousse pulled his moto into Kwasi’s house because there “are a lot of robbers here.” The cherry on top of my day. Finally, after I literally laughed out loud out of a little desperation when trying to transition the small talk to how we need to be leaving, we had our chance. Hannah and I each hoped on regular motos (with hopes of never having to ride the deathtrap dirt bike again) and rode off into the sunset. We made across the city to our apartment where we thanked the Lord for indoor plumbing. It really was a great day, just sprinkled with little moments of ridiculousness.

            To top everything off, I burned my finger on a match when I tried to light the stove for dinner. Two burns in one day. Glad I’m still laughing at all this. Happy for days with hard work and lots of excitement. I think it was that chocolate croissant that got me through. Or maybe God’s strength. Probably both…. A winning combination.

            So keep praying for us. We head up north this Saturday to give our survey to as many people as we possibly can in 5 days. It’s gonna be a little intense. And it’s our longest stay up there yet, so pray for stamina. Good research and stamina and more growing. Those are my prayer requests this week. 

Houston, we have ice cubes.

We are back in Lome and enjoying ice cubes as fast as our little circa-1950s refrigerator can kick 'em out. Our research this weekend went well, thanks to those of you who prayed about that. We tested our survey  on Sunday at a savings group meeting. Working separately, Hannah and I got through a total of 8 people in an hour and a half. Whew, we're in for some long days ahead of us. The test was very helpful in revealing what we need to change about the survey and how we need to adjust the length, language, and approach. For example, we thought "How many people live in your household?" would be a simple question, but found that it often takes them a long time to understand the question and then still are not always sure how to answer it because it is common for one household to contain many family members outside the nuclear family. Also, words like "income-earners" aren't familiar. Lots of little things like this need tweaking, but we think we will be able to get our survey to a lot of people, provided they are able to meet with us. One think that both Hannah and I struggled with during the surveys was feeling overwhelmed and saddened by the suffering of our sisters and brothers in Christ here. It is clear that these savings groups are helping them in their poverty, but it is still a shock to hear about such great need. Pray for our strength in hearing difficult stories from these men and women and for trust in a God who is bigger than all of this and in the fact that he is actively sustaining them. I am only one person and can not fix the great problems I see around me, but I trust in a God who can and who promises to care for his children.

We got to attend our first traditional church service too! Oh my goodness, what an adventure. We wanted to sneak in the back and blend in... should have known that's never gonna happen by now. We were immediately given chairs in the front of the church facing the congregation. It was probably hilarious watching Hannah and I not know what to do with ourselves up there. It's definitely a little awkward to not understand anything anyone is saying and trying to participate anyway. At the end of the service, we were asked to present ourselves to the church and give the closing prayer. Being the resident extrovert of the two, I recognized my responsibility to take one for the team and lead this one. They let me pray in English, which was kind. They took my "Amen" as a queue to start the music for the dance we were to lead. Most people would be phased by this, but I jump at every opportunity to dance, so I was pumped. Give me some African drum beats, a community or believers and some loud singing, and I'm a happy girl. I LOVED it. We may not speak the same language, but we can still worship together. Here's a little snapshot of our exciting morning.

We were able to attend one of the training sessions this morning. Some members of the Chalmers staff have flown in to train the local leaders some new material. It was great to sit in and listen to how these men facilitate this training. They are all extremely good at what they do and it's a joy to see God using his faithful followers to do his work here in West Africa. We sit in a room full of men and women devoted to helping people live better lives and to sharing the love of Christ. God is moving here and I am thankful to be a part of it.

Now on to everyone's favorite blog segment (ok, maybe not "everyone's" but hey, can't win 'em all) . . .

Things I Will Never Again Take for Granted: My Mom and Dad.

Today is my dad's birthday! I love birthdays, I love him, I love this day. So much love to go around. By being in Africa all summer, I not only am missing his birthday, but also my mom's birthday, Mother's Day, Father's Day and their 30th anniversary. Worst daughter ever x5. I have a lot to make up for. So this is a little post of appreciation.

I love the way they love me unconditionally and support me in everything I do (I can already hear my mom saying "How dare she think missing our birthdays, etc. is a big deal. We're so proud of her . . . blah blah blah.") I love the way they are patient with me and know I love them even when I am impatient with them. I love the way my abs hurt after I have a laughing fit with my mom. I love the way a good bear hug from my dad fixes any bad day. I love how a quick two-minute conversation between classes makes me feel like Georgia isn't really so far away. I love the anticipation of seeing them at the airport on August 8th. I love the way my mom always cries at Christmas when we get her sappy presents. I love the fierce mama-bear love she has for me. I love that I can call my dad and he'll drop everything to help me fix whatever problem I have. I love that he taught me how to write good papers and to love history. I love that he used to selflessly buy us the next season of Gilmore Girls every Christmas and then not complain when all we girls did for the next three days was sit and watch it (what a trooper).


I love the way they were SO involved in my life growing up. I love that my dad was my youth group leader for four years. I love the way they threw parties for me in high school like it was their job, having 50+ people over like it was no big deal. I love the way they came to every performance of every play and concert I was in. I love the way the hosted all nighters so the fun didn't have to stop at prom. I love the way they insisted my best friends come with us on family vacations. I love that instead of traditional graduation gifts, they surprise me and my best friends with a road trip to Canada/ tickets to the American Idol tour (don't judge, it was good back in the day).

I love that he still organizes the Turkey Bowl every year. I love that my dad surprised me with a spontaneous trip to a Chicago history museum so I could see the King Tut exhibit during my "Egypt" phase. I love how I felt after they took me to Disney World and I actually met Pooh Bear (he is so real when you are 4 years old, let me tell you).  I love the memory of tickle fights on Saturday mornings. I love the way they chaperoned any school function/trip I asked them to. I love the way my mom can run a fundraiser or other big event like it's nothing.  I love the way they really get to know and love my friends. I love that they are the "cool" parents (though my dad likes to test that sometimes in my opinion . . .) I love that they haven't missed a second of sharing and enjoying my life with me.

And as a birthday gift to my dad I'm going to list all the items he made me pack that I told him I would never use, but I've used. Knowing how stubborn I am and how over-prepared he always is, he might say this is the best present I've ever given him.
  ~That extra set of headphones. I did loose the first set... I can't believe it.
  ~That first aid survival kit. Hannah burned her leg on a moto but I had just the thing.
  ~That mini screwdriver for glasses. The tiny screws on my laptop needed tightening.
  ~Those cargo capris. He bought them without me even being there, and I love them. That's a first.
  ~The mini flashlight zipper pull. It gets dark here around 6 pm.
  ~The waterproof layer on all my bags. He sprayed it on minutes before we left for the airport, but I'm so glad. Rainy season is no joke over here.
  ~The Euros for my layover in Paris. That chocolate croissant was delicious.

So thanks Dad, for taking care of me. Happy Birthday.

I love you both very much and I hope this makes up for missing all of the major events of the summer.

Can't a Girl Get an Ice Cube?

Well, we're back up north for a few days. And, yes, that is the question that I'm sure will be going though my mind until we get back to the city. It's hot here and I have yet to see an ice cube. The tolerance that these people have for heat puts me to shame. It's not so bad though. I just appreciate ice cubes a lot more now.

We had a great week in Lome typing up notes and doing other very intern-like work. I LOVE having menial tasks to complete and there have been a few here and there that we've been able to do the help Chalmers staff get ready for the big training we are hosting here next week. They will be training trainers to train facilitators to train groups. Confusing I know. But so cool at the same time. Our task was to have 99 training manuals printed double sided and bound. Simple, right? I would have said so too (especially because I grew up doing that kind of stuff with my mom who happens to have everything we needed to accomplish the task in her office. Yeah, she's the bomb. And my school projects were always awesome.) But something that would have taken me an hour to do by myself at home took three days, lots of standing around, trying to communicate in French, double checking, and correcting mistakes. The American mindset in me is freaking out about how inefficient it all was, but at the same time, there's a little bit of African in me that loved the whole process. You see, for the people at the print shop, it wasn't about getting us our order as fast as they could, it was a chance to get to know us a bit. We were able to talk to the employees, whom I now consider friends. One woman even realized she is our neighbor and promised to come visit us sometime. It's all very different, but just as good. (Gotta love Kinko's though. Adding it to the list of things I'll never take for granted again.)

So after accomplishing little things like that, we headed back up north for round two of intense research. We are testing a survey that we hope to give to all (or more realistically, most at best) of the 150 savings group members here. Pray that we're asking the right questions, that we assess what we need to change quickly and that we finalize a good survey that will get us some helpful data. Also, I've really been aching to do some relational ministry. It's difficult with such an ambitious schedule and difficult language barrier, but I'm praying that these interviews and meetings will be a chance for God's children to be encouraged by one another. I don't have a lot to offer these people, but I can encourage them and pray for them and let them know that there is hope. Just as they can encourage me. Pray for relationships to be formed despite so many barriers. I just want to love people.

Quick list of things I'm thankful for: Pineapple (whatever we American's think we are eating in the states is NOT pineapple. There are no words to describe how amazing these pineapples are. They've ruined me for American pineapples forever I'm afraid.) My headlamp (it just makes me feel so prepared for life, especially when the power goes out, which it does often). For knowing how many people are praying for me. I am so encouraged by you all. Thank you.

Pray for:
~Safe travels. We take lots of motos and taxis around.
~Relationship building.
~Good research to be done. Especially concerning our survey.
~The Chalmers training next week. That God would use the trainers to do his work in Togo and other West African countries.
~Continued growth and a deeper understanding of grace. Always need that.

I really love blogging

...but not that moment when you're about to finish your post and the internet deletes all your hard and witty work, leaving you to start all over. Oh well, here goes...

So I love blogging. Love it. I read blogs like it's my job and now I have one of my very own. This is all so very exciting and I just can't contain my writing to only be on the subject of my summer in Africa. I'll tie it all together though so you won't hardly even notice, so hang in there with me and just keep reading. 

So update on Africa happenings: Hannah and I returned "home" to Lome this week. The feeling of returning to someplace makes me feel much more settled here. I never really feel like myself until I'm settled somewhere so coming "home" has been a blessing in the adjustment process. As lovely as it was to be back, it wasn't even the highlight of our week. We had the opportunity to go on a already-much-needed vacation to Benin for 2 days. Hannah and I expertly scheduled in a few extra days for traveling around Africa when we booked our tickets- always one step ahead we are- so we said yes when Will and Margaret asked us to join them on a quick trip to the coast of Benin. I don't think we would have taken a little time off so early if the timing had been up to us, but it actually worked out wonderfully. Week three of these internships is notoriously the worst (for culture shock, etc.) and it was lovely to have such a bright spot in ours. Some highlights of our trip: Body surfing in the big waves, being served by staff that had to dress as pirates, sipping fresh mango and pineapple smoothies by the pool, reading a good book for hours, sitting on the edge of the water realizing I'm on the coast of Africa, hanging out on the beach in the moonlight and seeing the biggest shooting star I've ever seen. It was lovely. 

Now we're back in Lome trying to tackle the never-gonna-end-until-we-get-on-the-plane-to-go-home pile of work we have to do. SO much typing to do. Now is one of those times I'm really thankful that I type like a T-Rex (you know, just picture it, I use only about four fingers) because Trinity didn't think it was a priority to teach me how to type. I love only being able to type about ten words a minute. Thank you very expensive education. (Disclaimer: I love Trinity and I believe they now teach their students how to type. I was just the one who slipped through the cracks. "No Child Left Behind?" I think not.) So anyway, we have SO much work to do and I'm praying that I will use it was a way to bring glory to God's kingdom. It's very easy to get bogged down in all this, but I'm praying and trusting that all this work will actually help someone. Working for His glory, not my own.

So now it's time for that part of my blog that doesn't really have to do with Africa so much. I'm starting a blog segment that I'm calling "Things I will never again take for granted" because being in Africa is something God is using to show me how much I truly appreciate some things but maybe don't take the time to notice. Those things that I love best and miss most. I hope these posts will serve as a reminder when I'm home to appreciate these things more. I also hope this will make you stop and think about something you may be taking for granted. Take time to say thank you for something special today. Write a note to someone, say a little prayer, whatever, just show a little extra gratitude today for all the blessings in your life. So without further ado...

Things I will never again take for granted: My lovely room mate Sarah Swygard. 

I loved living with Sarah this past year but didn't realize just how much I loved it until it was over. Thankfully we have a whole new year together ahead of us. She's the type of friend who buys you a birthday tiara and then makes you wear it so you can tell everyone that you're being forced to wear it (even though you are secretly so excited to wear it). She's the kind of friend who thinks to invite you to her too-good-to-be-true mentor's house for Easter brunch so you can have a delicious meal with a real family on a special occasion. She's the kind of friend who gets up early to come cheer you on in your first ever 5K and waits at the finish line to take pictures of you. She's the kind of friend who is up for anything and doesn't make fun of you when you want to give yourselves a celebrity couple name like "Krisarah" (catchy, isn't it?). She's the kind of friend who doesn't get mad when you wake her up at 6 am so she can drive you to the ER because you scratched your eye. She's the kind of friend who wants to start silly traditions with you like watching through every season of Alias and dancing through the theme song no matter how late it is. She is the classiest. And the sweetest. And I love her. Thankful her her selfless friendship and all that she means to me. 

Over and out. What are you extra thankful for today?