Falling into Autumn

Autumn: leaves are changing colors, temperatures are dropping, sunsets are prolonging their display, layers are becoming heavier and heavier.

As the seasons change, so do and hobbies. One of my favorite past-times is baking. It's kind of wonderful, so I have decided to share my latest greatest discoveries. To start off the season, I will begin with chocolate chip blondies- a cookie bar courtesy of Taste of Home recipes:

Ingredients

• 1-1/2 cups packed brown sugar
• 1/2 cup butter, melted
• 2 eggs, lightly beaten
• 1 teaspoon vanilla extract
• 1-1/2 cups all-purpose flour
• 1/2 teaspoon baking powder
• 1/2 teaspoon salt
• 1 cup (6 ounces) semisweet chocolate chips

Directions

• In a large bowl, combine the brown sugar, butter, eggs and vanilla just until blended. Combine the flour, baking powder and salt; add to brown sugar mixture. Stir in chocolate chips.
• Spread into a greased 13-in. x 9-in. baking pan. Bake at 350° for 18-20 minutes or until a toothpick inserted near the center comes out clean. Cool on a wire rack.  The amount of bars varies based on how big you cut the bars.

This is a tasty spin on a classic favorite, putting chocolate chip cookies into a brownie form. Hope you like it!

The Small Stuff

Don't sweat the small stuff. Once life dives in to full swing, it's easy to forget the truth and value of these words. It's equally easy to view the small stuff as not quite so small. In the moments when there is little-to-no down time or regrouping time: when the assignments pile up, when the responsibilities seem endless, when the expectations are beyond unrealistic. In those moments, I find that I am walking time bomb. Rather than loaded with explosives, I am filled with tears that can be released from their floodgates when triggered by the slightest event, or I become self-destructive. Not in a physically harmful way, but the insecurities show their nasty heads, leaving me paranoid and filled with self-doubt. Hindsight is a wonderful thing. Humbling, for sure, but great no less.

Why is it that the small things which are magnified are the less than favorable things? Why is it that the test that did not go as hoped is what's remembered? Or the conversation with an old friend that is colored by misunderstandings become poisonous as the lies replay themselves over and over? Why is it that the slightest look from a complete stranger makes you wonder what's wrong with you?

How incredible would it be if the small things lead to feelings of thankfulness and joy in place of sorrow or stress! When asked "what were the highlights of your last week?", the answer was not all negativity, but story after story of the actual HIGH lights. The three-year old who decides your name should be "Miss Carrot" instead of Cari because they're more familiar with carrots. The four-year-old who names her toy puppy after you when you're not there. The friend who texts you a smiley face just to say hi. The cards received in the mail sent by your parents, sent for no reason other than to remind you that you are loved and valued. The friend who equates you with baking, because that is your new-found stress relief/hobby...and everyone knows it! Starting the deliciously chilly fall morning with a cup of hot chocolate. Driving home late one evening, heading west into a breathtaking sunset.

Don't sweat the small stuff; re-adjust your focus and embrace the small stuff. Let the small things in life bring a smile to your face rather than letting them cause an ulcer in your stomach.

The thunder that roars

After experiencing a new way of worship and generally celebrating life and Jesus with the brothers and sisters in Kasibi, the group returned to Namwianga on Sunday, reunited with our Pharmacy friends one last time before they left for good. The worship was unbelievable, singing in a heartfelt way that moves me to tears and sends chills down my arms. The Spirit's presence was discussed, and just as Dr. Hopper asked the congregation if they've ever felt the Spirit moving, a gentle breeze passed through the audience. Ba Leonard, who has kept the pants fitting snuggly during our time away from home, was a perfect example of the love and sincerity of those from Kasibi. Children and adults alike have continued to demonstrate a love and acceptance immediately, which is so extremely heartwarming and convicting. Looking into the faces of each and every person here is just like looking into the face of Christ. Amazing!
      Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday morning were spent at the Havens, reveling in the smiles and warm hugs from dozens of children. Though generally a softie, I rarely shed tears. This past week has hit me very hard though. Just when I should be overjoyed and filled with energy, I selfishly squeeze the precious children in my lap or hanging on my neck as my vision blurs with tears. Share time Monday night did not help any, either, for it was brought up time and again that the children would be left behind once we returned to the States. Each child has become an addition to my prayer list, praying that the aunties will continue to have the heart of Christ for each of the kids.  Wednesday afternoon, I piled into Khaki Jackie with Tessa, Ben, Naiveen, Kara, Anna, Ashley, Ian Tullos, and Lauren. We traveled down the road for approximately 1.5 hours leaving Kalomo and saying "hello" to Livingstone.
   Our first stop was a pit break of sorts at the Protea, staying long enough to drop the bags off at our rooms, clean up, then rush over to the Royal Livingstone. Once passing through the doors of the luxurious oasis, I sipped on some Roubis tea in a delicate little tea cup. I was then given the go-ahead to visit the dessert buffet. Yes, that's right. A buffet composed of desserts and quiches. My favorite dessert was a chocolate cake layered with chocolate mousse and iced with rich chocolate frosting and lined with a squiggle of white chocolate. My mouth is watering anew just thinking about it! Not long after finishing this decadent venture, our group was joined by short, hairy friends. The party crashers were native monkeys, adorably mischievous, reminding me of those at the Haven :-) While watching the antics of the monkeys, a breathtaking sunset filled the sky over the Zambezi River.
    Once the sun went down, I followed the rest of my group to Khaki Jackie and ultimately to the other side of the Zambezi, which turned out to be the thundering of Victoria Falls. The power and majesty of this natural phenomenon left me speechless and giddy. I immediately thought of the song "Waterfalls" by David Crowder Band, putting my hope, my trust, and myself in Christ alone. As I passed from one side of the falls to the other via a metal bridge, I passed to the other side completely and thoroughly drenched. The light filling the sky at 7:30 was all attributed to the full moon which hung over the falls. Ian was temporarily missing in action, so an impromptu search party went into effect. After 35 minutes of calling Ian's name and trekking along the falls numerous times, we found out that Ian was safely seated on the other side, preparing to watch a moon bow. During the process of searching for Ian, though, I stopped to notice that I was standing directly underneath the moon bow (a rainbow caused by the mist from the Falls and the light emanating from the moon). Yet again, God's AWESOME!
    Today was spent at the real Animal Kingdom. The group was driven to Botswana for the day (I know: we just up and drove to another country for the day!) to enjoy a real live safari in Africa! It was AMAZING! The morning began on the water, floating within 6 feet of hippos as they waded in the marshlands. We also met African elephants during bath time, and even spied some crocodiles sunbathing on the shore. Lunch was enjoyed at the restaurant in the lodge which served as our base, composed of succulent fish, pasta salad, steamed carrots, and cheesecake drizzled with blueberry sauce. Delicious! The afternoon was spent loading up into 3 open Land Rovers to trek across miles and miles of open, unblemished land. Not long after beginning our land safari, we were greeted by giraffes reaching nearly 8 feet in height. Continuing on, our tour guide pointed out little warthogs, eliciting a unanimous cry of "Pumbas!" from those in the 4-wheel drive vehicle. Driving down along the shore line, we were stopped by a herd of elephants, escorted by baboons, and finally surrounded by antelope. Though no lion was seen, the elephants were more than enough to make the trip worthwhile!

One Week

May 22:

Church was one of my most exciting and greatly anticipated moments. As white people, we stuck out like sore thumbs, but were immediately welcomed by the members. The lesson was about resisting temptation, preparing one’s self to resist by being familiar to the areas of vulnerability. After meeting and greeting the members, we had lunch at the HIZ house, and then walked to the soccer field to play with the students from George Benson College. The skill level ranged from amateur (myself) to beyond impressive. We had dinner together, walked with flashlights in hand to church for an evening service, and walked back to the HIZ house to witness 6 baptisms. During the course of this evening, I thought of the song “Jesus Movement” by Audio Adrenaline. In all of this, God is the same God in Arkansas, North Carolina, Italy, England, and even in Zambia!

May 23:

Monday began the first official day with the babies! I was unsure as to who and what I was supposed to do, so I picked up a child on the playground outside and hung them for the morning. After joining the toddlers with tea time, I brought a child named Kurt to Haven 3 for feeding time. A mischievous boy named Seth casually meandered over to where Kurt and I were eating. Seth plopped down in my lap and attempted to partake in Kurt’s food, but I quickly put an end to that. I spent the rest of my time at Haven 1 playing with infants, assessing their communication abilities and developmental milestones. Yet again, we walked the 1.55 miles along the dirt road to return for lunch, then turned around and walked back for an afternoon with the babies in Haven 1.

May 24:

After breakfast of biscuits and gravy, the HIZ-PATH people joined the college students for chapel, a time filled with focus, challenges, and heartfelt praise. The challenge was from Matthew, but struck me muchy harder than typical when the verse “don’t worry about your body, what clothes you will wear” came up when I realized that most of the people in attendance wear the same 3 shirts each week, and I consistently find myself worrying about how others see me or that they think of me. This trip has already reminded me that each person has the potential to do incredible things for Christ if only we are willing to step out of our own way and “let go and let God.”

During clinic we focused on eliciting sounds and words from the children at the orphanages rather than simply playing with the kids. The morning was spent at Havens 1 and 2, beginning with the toddlers and then the older babies. After we returned for lunch at the compound, the afternoon was spent with children with HIV/AIDs, tuberculosis, and other severe diseases.

May 25: 

I’ve officially been on the continent of Africa for one week. The PHIZ people went to a surrounding city, so the SHIZ (speech pathology Harding in Zambia) people had the run of the place. I was the first to lead the group sessions, so we began by identifying body parts and clothing. Next, we individually worked on eliciting children from our respective children. I was responsible for working with Dennis, one of the cutest African baby boys I’ve ever seen! All was going well; he was finally beginning to produce some sounds when suddenly, without warning, he lunged across my lap (as I was sitting Indian style on the floor), and lounged there for a while. Not long after he established this position did I realize that my lap was not only warm but also very wet. I jumped up, waddled down the hallway, and changed Dennis for the second time that day. He made it totally worth my while by cooing, going, and jabbering during the cleansing process!

                We rode back for lunch, where we experienced an authentic Zambian meal, consisting of shema, fresh pears, and rice. It was surprisingly satisfying, enough to tie me over for the afternoon. Anna and I were the first to enter Haven 3, so I was greeted by a cacophony of “heys!” from the precious 16-24 month olds. I filled my arms and back with as many children as I could, finishing with the teary-eyed Kurt and cuddly Andrew. Both remained in my lap for the next hour or so. Dow then joined the fun, initially leaning against my shoulder, then playing with my bobby-pinned hair, and finally releasing all of my hair from the pins. The children alternated between clinicians, but in the end, Kurt clung to me through it all. I walked back with Ben, Liz, and Kara, passing the time by discussing our day, our thoughts on Africa, and which instrument we’d play if we were in the marching band.

                Dinner was Sloppy Joes, baked beans, and grape Kool-Aid… not the typical Zambian dinner, I imagine! We then adjourned to play cards, but were forced to modify the game when the power randomly went out at 6:30. That’s Africa for you!

May 27:

“More to this Life.” God is good. All the time. On Wednesday, my grandma was called to be home with her Savior for eternity. It really was the strangest sensation, being 2 continents away from home and family. It’s one thing to receive a phone call that someone close to you has passed away, so you make the typical preparations to pack your bags, gas up the car, and drive home. Typically, the trip could be accomplished in approximately 16 hours. However, it’s COMPLETELY different to read an email 2 days after it was written, stating that your grandmother passed away. Just when I think that I can at least spring a little extra money and call home, my phone did not allow such a thing to occur. The two people I told were great because they let me cry, turn red in the face, gave me a hug, and then did their best to cheer me up.

                While in Zambia, I am reminded constantly that life is SOOO out of my control. In America, I have grown up with the assumption that the dollar bill can easily provide nearly anything. Someone is always just a drive or plane ticket away, an email can be sent, or a phone call can be placed. That is not so. Though Ecclesiastes is a depressing book to read, it is so true that life is fleeting. The only constant, ever-faithful think is God alone. He knew last week that the next Wednesday would be her last day to suffer. He knew that my dad would sit with his mom for the last time this week. And He knew that I would be loving on His children, red, yellow, black and white, when this passing occurred.

                Am I sad? You better believe it. But does life go on? Most assuredly.  Regardless of what happens in the morning, God will continue to be in control, and I am just that much closer to spending eternity with Him. It’s easy to cry and feel upset and lonely, but the tears cannot last forever; the hurt will pass; and God will NEVER forsake me.

May 28:

Our second complete Saturday in Zambia, and we have the privilege of visiting another surrounding city of Choma for some shopping and cultural integration. Anna and I were shopping buddies, weaving between booths of crafted goods, and trekking over a railway or three. We were yet again bombarded with friendly faces that were more focused on sharing the joy of Zambia and the unity in Christ than selling their products to us. Were they persistent? Umm, yes. But they still respected our personal space and comfort levels and genuinely took a delight in what we had to say.

We had a picnic outside in a local park before we ventured into the museum of local craftsmanship, ultimately ending with purchasing a great amount of souvenirs. The entire group piled into Khaki Jackie again, nearly sitting atop of the other person for approximately an hour. Once reaching the HIZ house, the vehicles were unloaded, teeth were brushed, and the group quickly walked to the Namwianga Church of Christ for an authentic Zambian wedding. The wedding was seriously the wedding to top all weddings. The excitement, joy, and spirit of celebration was so contagious that I could not help but smile as the wedding party danced down the aisle, preparing the way for the bride and groom. The traditions were different, but the emotions remained the same!

May 29:

Once again, we have joined the Namwianga church for service. We sang “We Shall Assemble,” which has always been one of my favorite songs. This song took on a new meaning today, though, because while I am singing about forever, my Grandma Field is actually experiencing heaven firsthand. It is so easy to be sad about her absence, but the sorrow quickly turns to great joy when I think about the absolute splendor of Christ that I know with blessed assurance I will one day behold!

I was part of the group responsible for preparing lunch for everyone, and once this task was completed, the annual game of soccer took place in the heat of the African sun. Kara and I tag-teamed the defense of the ball for our team, meaning that we ran very little and talked a lot J Being on the far end of the field where little activity was taking place, we suddenly heard: “Tessa, he’s trying to get between your legs, Tessa!” This exclamation came from little Ian Tullos during the soccer game Sunday afternoon.

Anna and I rushed out of the Mann house after dinner, certain that the entire group had already begun the walk to the church building for evening worship. With arms entwined, we braved the elements of the African darkness, armed with joyous spirits and flashlights with pitiful lighting (mostly mine; her head lamp was legit.) As we entered the church building, we looked for our fellow white people, but awkwardly could not find them. Predicting that they would come shortly, we slid into the pews near the back of the building. Twenty minutes passed, the singing had begun, and still we were the only Americans present. Immediately following the opening prayer, we were greeted by the sound of shuffling feet, signaling the entrance of our group. All was once again right in the world. So here I am, rocking out to classic 90’s music on iTunes,  preparing to turn in for the night before I go to bed for a few hours of blissful sleep. I am awakening at 4:45 to witness the rare phenomenon of planets aligning under the shadow of darkness. I will continue to take notes of the happenings of each day and keep you posted!

Rejoice always!

~Cari

Bless the rains in Africa

For all of those who have wondered, I am in fact in Africa! I have been thrown into the excitement and mayhem of the country of Zambia, and technology is rather iffy in this third-world country. That being said, I shall attempt to highlight the main points of the past 6 days.

May 17:

It’s official… I’m on the plane (albeit a very small plane) to fly to Chicago. Dr. Weaver was the first to experience a traveling glitch, in the form of a ticket mix-up resulting in an over-booked flight. Dr. Weaver, the veteran traveler and willing soul, sacrificed herself to take a later flight and meet us in Chicago or D.C. later that evening. In the end, all was worked out and a woman belatedly realized that we were heading to Chicago. In the end we all ended up in Chicago together to eventually continue on to D.C. The group has already proven to be filled with funny, make-the-most-of-a-bad-situation moments because our flight attendant by the name of “Carlito” overwhelmed us with his generosity. While we sat waiting for what turned into a 90 minute delay, Carlito generously offered his own sack dinner to satiate the hunger throughout the back of the plane. With his dinner came the musical talents of our flight attendant, composed of his medical history in Spanish and his rendition of “Arkansas” from “Big River.” This was inspired by our informing him of our schooling in Searcy. Very funny!

                We arrived in D.C. to stay at the Sheraton for the night, then awoke early to scarf down a continental breakfast, then wait on the front step for the next 2 ½ hours. We all traveled through security without incident, except from two toothpaste bottles being confiscated (Shanna and mine).

May 18:

Home. What a concept to think of while floating 35,000 feet through the air. After flying for the last 9 hours, the end of our first leg is coming to a close. Restless legs have become my current companion and already my eyelids are growing heavy when they should be opening refreshed. So, back to my original thoughts. Home is many things to many people. When I was little, home was Burke, Virginia. After a week of camp during the summers, home was a 2-story house on Jordan Road. Once I reached high school, I deemed myself a “home-body,” preferring outings with my immediate family over excursions with my friends from school or church. Now, as I am almost half a world away from the familiar, I am led to redefine “home” as shared experiences, acceptance, understanding, and a mutual interest in the interests of the other. This was found on the plane to Chicago as we were eagerly awaiting the return of “Mama Becky.” Home was found in the comfortable silence at the end of the day sitting with Tessa and Ben. Home was found in engaging in conversation of the “wordless book” or in this case, the colored glove with a young woman named Bridgett from Alabama. I was reminded that throughout the world, turmoil, tears, stress, and happiness abound, but God remains ever-constant.

May 19:

We arrived safely to Zambia (Lusaka specifically) after a long journey via plane. I spent some time exploring the area, until we finally regrouped at an upper-scale restaurant named “Rhapsody,” where I ordered a spaghetti dish. During this time, I learned two things about Africa:

1)      If ever you have a question as to the heat intensity of typical foods in Africa, DO NOT trust the recommendations of the natives

2)      The African people are genuinely sincere, fun-loving people who are as fascinated by the American people as we are Africans

May 20:

“Time for Africa”. We took a long drive out to Kalomo, where we stopped multiple times due to cattle, children, security check-points, and lunch… of course. Lunch was devoured at Tooters, a road-side restaurant consisting of fried chicken and chips (French fries). It was interesting, to say the least. The quantity of grease saturating each bite put Bojangles’ to shame. We piled on the bus to continue our sojourn to our final destination, only to have to unload the vehicle to push it in reverse since the transmission was not functioning at the moment. Four hours later, we finally turned onto the 1.5 mile road (all dirt) to the HIZ house, my home for the next 6 weeks. Dinner included grilled cheese, tomatoes, water, and made-from-scratch chocolate cake. Rooms were assigned and half of the group retired for the evening, while the other half sat in the living room of the Mann house (the girls’ house).

                At first, a rousing game of spades ensued, but eventually was forgotten, leaving us listening to Lauren speaking in silly accents from around the world. Nicknames were created and assigned to each member of the summer HIZ-PATH group. After the explanation of my dad’s creativity in the form of naming his first child Lambo Field (after the home of the Green Bay Packers), so my name then became “Bo Field.”

May 21:

Our first day of traveling to the Haven, our second home for the next 6 weeks, occurred today. Unfortunately, Anna and I were terrified of being left behind, but were filled with a sense of relief upon seeing Justin, Cameron, and Brian loading up into Khaki Jackie (the resident Land Rover).  Too little too late we ran to get into the 4-wheel-drive vehicle only to discover that B. Weave was taking the PHIZ group to the clinic. As we were in the process of returning to the speech path group, the PHIZ invited Anna and me to be honorary members for the duration of the ride. We quickly grew better acquainted with the other program present because the twists, turns, and “speed bumps” in the road. Every rut we hit threw me inches into the air and inches forward, typically landing on Brian’s side. The bouncing continued, much to the delight of those present, and after a while, reached the clinic, where the PHIZ would be working for the coming weeks.

                We immediately entered into a main living room at Haven 1 and were instructed to find a child and hold him or her. I was drawn to a very long and lanky 9-month-old girl named Pauline. She ended up settling into my arms for the next 2 hours, until I visited other babies ranging from ages 6 weeks to 22 months. Leaving that building was one of the hardest things I’ve had to do. What hurt the most was knowing that each precious child resided at the Haven because they did not have any family to care for and love. This made me appreciate my family even more, loathe myself for taking the menial things was too seriously, and thank God for blessing me with the opportunity and knowledge to do something, and the heart (although frequently too tender) to feel for the babies.

                The groups together returned home via a 30-minute walk through the bush, a beaten path, and a winding dirt road. Lunch was devoured, and then we were taking into the town of Kalomo to explore and shop. I knew that Zambia was a 3^rd-world country, but did not truly comprehend the extent of poverty until I walked down the muddied roads, through the sewage-soaked ground, dodging “booths” filled with people willing to do anything to obtain a few kwachas. I bought 2 shetangies while there, to appear more like the locals and less like a visitor. We regrouped for dinner, sharing the most shocking and astonishing revelations before we began a few friendly games of Nertz and Phase 10. 

WAY too long!

For all who were wondering, I have, in fact arrived safe and sound in Kalomo, Zambia. I am staying/ working in part with the Namwianga Mission in town, and am loving it! I have had some difficulty in accessing the blog up until now, but I shall attempt to summarize this past week, then will recap on the previous weeks in another post. One that will hopefully come tomorrow.

Sunday: walked to church and was greeted by an overwhelming amount of Zambians as what they call "mokulu" (white people). The Namwianga Church of Christ is made up of approximately 400 members, ranging in ages from 2 years to 60 years of age. There were no other mokulu aside from our HIZ-PATH group, and two resident missionaries, so we stuck out like the proverbial sore thumb, but it was great! The singing was unlike any other heard; though not on tune, it was without a doubt heartfelt. In fact, the song leader stopped the second song mid-verse to reprimand the congregation for "not singing as good as you can". Yep, that rarely happens in the States! Church was really interesting for me because we sang about the future hope we have in heaven, and I stopped short, realizing that while I am singing about the hope I have for my future, my grandma is actually singing with the angels for her first Sunday. Was I sad? Of course. But the sadness quickly gave way to indescribable joy in thinking that she began her forever last Wednesday. Even more so, I was raising my voice, as pitchy as it may be, with hundreds of other believers, all proclaiming the same Savior as Lord!

Monday-Friday: we walked the 1.55 miles each way to the Havens, trekking through tall grass, weaving between barbed wire fences, zigging and zagging over a dirt road, and dodging cow patties. During this time, my walking buddies (typically anywhere between 5 and 12 friends) reflected on the previous day, prepared for the coming sessions, or shared comedic stories to pass the time. Though we began our journey at 9 am each morning, I have developed an enviable t-shirt tan line! Upon arriving at the Haven, we are greeted by dozens of toddlers frolicking on the swing set on the front yard between the three Haven buildings. I then help gather the toddlers in my group, and head over to Haven 2 for singing, story time, potty breaks (preferably in the toilets), and other language-increasing activities. I have had to dive into the deep recesses of my brain to recover the supply of VBS songs to incorporate into the lessons, and I have decided that "My God is so big" is one of the faithful go-to songs. We also learned a few Tongan songs to sing to/with the kids, which is always precious! Once we finish with the toddlers and release them to their nshima (lunch) time, my 4 fellow grad students venture across the lawn to Haven 1 to partake in "tummy time" with the babies between 6 and 9 months of age. This is the least favorite time of the day because I am inevitably drawn to a baby named Peace, who is anything BUT peaceful. She appears to be all smiles initially, but as soon as I put her down on her belly, the floodgates open up and we lose at least 10 decibels of our hearing. I have found that making silly faces, blowing in her face, and essentially rubbing her back to put her to sleep have been most successful in calming her.

After tummy time we walk the 1.55 miles back to our compound to enjoy some Americanized cuisine (Ba Leonard, our cook, is AMAZING!), take a quick power nap, then walk or ride back in Khaki Jackie (the resident Land Rover) to the Haven for an afternoon with the kids. I was in the specialized group, so I worked one-on-one with a precious little dark but shiny faced boy named Kritz. He is predominantly non-verbal, has the fullest belly you've ever seen, exhibits a gurgly laugh, and has decided to make me his potty, but is adorable! Yes, I am now in the running for the most consecutive days to be pee-ed on by the little ones, coming in at 5 consecutive days. The aunties who work at the Haven have the most generous spirits, though, literally giving me the shetangies around their waist to wear while they wash my soiled clothes for me. On Friday, I decided to come prepared with a second change of clothes once a child relieved himself on me, but wouldn't you know it, I didn't need it. It figures.

Back to Kritz. We have worked on increasing any sort of vocalizations, and he has now consistently vocalized "up" (albeit crudely), and mimmicks words such as "zebra" and "lion", and roars in my face once I roar in his (this is in conjunction to a book, of course). He is very quiet for the first 20 minutes of our session, but then I feel my leg suddenly becoming warm and moist, so we waddle to the bathroom so I can change his clothes, and he inevitably becomes Mr. Chatterbox for the remainder of our time together. After that, I make my way over to Haven 3 to spend time with my first love, Kurt, a 22 month old boy with HIV. He may not say much, but we share an unspoken bond that needs no words. He simply cuddled in my lap for the first week together, but has since resorted to pointing to desired objects, waving to animate and inanimate objects outside, and playing with my fingernails. He's kinda my favorite! Without fail, he cries every time I leave, and I love him all the more for it.

The grad students all pile back into Khaki Jackie, or walk back along the dirt road, waving to everyone we see and butchering the little Tongan phrases we do know, arriving just in time for dinner. After dinner, I have ventured to the soccer (football) fields by the local college with some other HIZ-PATHers, to be thoroughly schooled. I have always known that I was never meant to be a soccer player, and these play times simply reiterate that fact. I run my little heart out, nonetheless.

So here I am, signing off WAY past my bed time, thankful to update you briefly on the events of the past week, wishing you all a delightful weekend. Thanks for reading!

Til next time.... Cari

Counting down the days!

The time is nearly here! The papers have all been submitted. The tests have been completed. The projects have been presented, and the books have been highlighted and shelved to rest for the duration of the summer. All other distractions have been fulfilled and there is nothing more to do but to finish packing in preparation for the summer. Typically, I would have the car packed and be on my merry way driving back home to North Carolina, but instead I have been presented with an incredible opportunity to spend time serving others in the eastern hemisphere.

For those of you who don't know, I have been blessed enough to be able to travel to Namwianga, Zambia for 6 weeks during the summer. My time overseas was made possible by the speech-language pathology graduate program at Harding University, a program committed to bombarding each graduate student with the opportunity to interact with a wide variety of people with whom we can individually serve someday. While the bulk of the population has consisted of those in the White County area, the summer presents itself with an amazing chance to engage ourselves in the culture and the hearts of those in Zambia, Africa.

I have been extremely blessed in my life, allowing me to partake in a plethora of cultures, encompassing those in the Caribbean and Central America, many from central and western Europe, and a substantial portion of the United States. Yet again I have been provided with the opportunity to immerse myself in the life and styles of those in Namwianga. In this moment, I am excited beyond belief; terrified of what I will face; nervous, overjoyed, sad to leave the familiar, and yet exhilarated and itching to go throw myself into a new environment. This environment is one where I am surrounded by familiar faces of my fellow classmates and professors, yet am forced to trust solely on my upbringing and in the hope that God is constant, regardless of where I am.

Only God knows how I will be challenged, what I will face, and who I will become; I'm just along for the ride!