BUSY has been the word of the month for us.  Last week we were at a conference in a nearby town, and the internet connection there was this side of horrible.  Then we left for a trip to the closest country in order to renew our visas, and while it’s fun, it’s not relaxing.  And then yesterday, we headed to the coast about an hour away to go to a baptism, which was extremely cool.

Not that I’m complaining.  We had a great time at the conference; it’s always fun to be around other English speakers and to get refreshed and renewed about our calling.  Chickpea LOVED being with kids all week–I felt like I barely saw her.  She sat at the kids table in the dining hall where we ate, and other than setting up her meal, she was fine eating on her own.  It was heaven.

But it’s funny, being at a conference like this–I soak up all the ammenities we don’t normally get (worship times, conversations with other English-speaking moms), but I leave reminded of how tough it is here sometimes.

I don’t want it to sound like I’m complaining.  Really.  We love what we do, and we know we’re called here.  But it’s just not easy to be so far from family and friends.  Sometimes when you go to get your batteries recharged, it’s not until the recharging that you find out how drained they are.

So we’re back now, slowly getting back to real life–we were both hurting this morning, feeling like we needed another three hours of sleep.  Garbanzo got about four naps the entire week we were gone, so he’s been exhausted.

I have a feeling this week will be a catch-up week.  Back to setting up the office, working on website stuff, climbing Mt. Laundry, cleaning the house that somehow got turned upside-down even though we weren’t here, and guessing how long we’ll last with the windows open and the AC off.

A few Chickisms — since it’s been awhile

At the conference hotel, they aren’t turning on the air conditioning until June 1 (par for the course in this country).  So we slept with the fans going and the windows open.  The only problem with this was the lounge singer that appeared from 10 p.m. to 1 a.m. every night, right by the pool.  The pool was right outside our window.

And I’ll be frank.  He was NOT good.  He sang a trio of the local language, French, and English, and slurred most of the times.  I think he was drunk, and serenading fellow drunks.  It would be hilarious if we weren’t already so tired.  There’s only so many nights I can hear Dancing Queen.

The first night, Chick woke up crying.  She was sitting up in bed, and when I asked her what was wrong, she said, “There’s a scary man in our room, and he’s singing to us, and it’s really bad, and I want him to stop.”

I wanted him to stop, too.

A few days later, the ferryboat to the nearby country was PACKED.  Packed with tourists, Europeans mostly, headed to their holidays.  Most Europeans speak English.  Most also smoke (or so it seems).

We were standing near an older woman who lit up, and Chick said, loudly, “Mom, that lady has a smoker.  She must want to die.”

She stepped away soon after.

And finally, last night over dinner, we were all quietly eating.  Out of nowhere, Chick said, “So.  It was a bummer that I wasn’t baptized today.”

We talked about it quite a bit that day, what it meant and why her friends were choosing to.  She kept saying she wanted to be baptized too, since she loves and follows Jesus.  But she still didn’t quite have that understanding.

But how do you say no to a little girl that really does love Jesus?  It was hard.  Thankfully, the ocean was calling her name, and she was out swimming five minutes later, happy as a clam.

posted: 09 June 1
under: chickisms, culture, family, travel