The Usual

The safari last weekend was just what the doctor ordered. Blogs from last week were riddled with "purposeless", "floundering", "fear", and "change". I didn't feel like there was much to look forward to. I was drained.

I think God is like that old-fashioned waitress that knows exactly what you need before you even get seated. He knows that you want the booth in the corner where the sun shines in and warms the table, a tall glass of OJ, and flapjacks with blueberry syrup and butter on the side. Sometimes He knows that though you want country fries and quiche, what you really need is a fruit salad and toast. More often than not, you don't even realize you're hungry until He's placed just the right plate in front of you.

I need some love on rye, sunny-side-up joy, a ripe piece of peace, patience with a side of kindness, a tall glass of goodness, some faithfulness hash, and gentleness with a big helping of self-control.

God is like the good ol' fashioned waitress. He's even coordinated on roller skates.

Maasai Mara: The Cattle on a Thousand Hills

Our sweet ride

Whew. What a weekend! Boy oh boy oh boy. This was a "long weekend", beginning Thursday at noon. Glorious! (please sing that, just as I did in my head) A couple of the families that are in the same supervision team as I planned to use the weekend off to travel to Maasai Mara, a game park in the southwest border of Kenya. They asked if I wanted to go...uh, yeah! So we did. And that's why this post is going to be oh-so-terribly-long, and I needed to make an outline. Who would ever have guessed that I'd make an outline for a blog? Nerdy.

Friday:

• Up 5:02a
• Leave 6:15a
• Red bushes*
• Rattling teeth!*
• Joseph guesses my job
• Jam & butter, jam & butter*
• Picnic under acacia
• Pitch camp – solo tent!
• Up the ridge with Daniel*
• Visit to Maasai boma!



Enjoying our safari

• Beans & rice & bed

Sabbath:

• Up 5:40a
• Beautiful sunrise
• Leave 6:30a
• Brrrrr
• 1000Ksh vs. US$60. Booyah.*
• Brake line sheared
• Repair stop*
• Tyson swarmed by hawkers



Jessica with lions!

• First souvenir
• Into Mara by 10a
• Prides, towers, dazzles, herds, flocks, etc.
• Picnic lunch surrounded by wildebeest, zebra, gazelles
• View from a standing perch :)
• Camera battery dies
• Cattle on a thousand hills**

Sunday:

• Up 5:40a
• Leave 6:10a
• Lions eating!*
• Borrowing Yani's camera. Missing lens cap*
• Left on roof??
• "I know this is trivial, but please help me find the lens cap"
• Confession...



Sitting on the border between Kenya
and Tanzania! Serengeti to my left,
Maasai Mara to my right.




• Supper: Look at what Susan has!
• Leopard hunting
• Camp breakdown
• Journey home
• 2 lb lighter*

Okie doke. If you really want further explanation of any of the items with an asterisk, here ya go:

*Red bushes: Stretches of the road were so incredibly dusty that I couldn't believe the driver could see the road anymore. Bushes along the ditch were no longer green, but so caked with red dirt they appeared to be bushy parts of the road.

Lilac-Breasted Roller

*Rattling teeth: Wow. I wouldn't take anything but a 4WD vehicle on these roads. I'm surprised the glass didn't fall out of the windows, much less my teeth falling out of my skull. Those $1/min massage chairs in the mall ain't got nothin' on Kenyan transportation.
*Jam & butter, jam & butter: I was responsible for packing my breakfast and lunch for Friday. I ate 3 jam & butter sandwiches...hello, gradeschool.

Ze termite mound

*Up the ridge with Daniel: A ridge separated our campsite from the Mara, and the Maasai guard at the school where we were staying took us up for a look-see. WOW. And he took us to his boma and inside his home. Way cool.

*1000Ksh vs. US$60: I love being an official Kenyan resident. If I hadn't had my work permit, I'd have had to pay $60 for a day at the Mara, instead of the 1000 shillings (about $13) that I had to. Booyah.

*Repair shop: As we pulled through the gate at the park shortly after 6:30, Derek realized that his brakes weren't working and discovered a broken brake fluid line. Boo. We drove to another gate and found a little repair shop. While we waited, flocks of Maasai women hawking their goods swarmed our vehicle, thrusting their necklaces and bracelets and masks through Tyson's open window. Tyson found it difficult to roll the window up beneath the weight of 8 pushy ladies' arms. :D A funny spectacle to behold for sure. I also took the bargaining plunge, purchasing my first Maasai souvenir.

Proof of my first bargaining adventure

*Lions eating!: SO cool! They were right next to the road; 3 lionesses and 4 cubs. Sounds like National Geographic until you look to the road again and find 16 other vehicles gawking at the same scene. Pictures to come as soon as I can get them from the camera I borrowed.

Tembos!

*Missing lens cap: Because my camera died as we were leaving the park the day before, Yani let me borrow her wonderful digital SLR for the morning. Halfway through our trip, though, I felt in my pocket for the lens cap and couldn't find it. Uh-oh. I stood up quickly, searching the top of the vehicle, hoping against hope that I hadn't left it there, but feeling the lump in my stomach as I realized it was very likely. I prayed a little, earnest prayer. The rest of the morning wasn't very enjoyable, and it came time to return the camera, lens cap-less. Fast forward 8 hours to a wonderful supper with the Raymonds and Crutchers, and low and behold, Susan pulls out the lens cap  that had been hiding in their Land Cruiser for the trip back! God knows the hairs on our heads, and helps solve the brainless problems we get ourselves into. :D
*2 lb lighter: You would be too. A shower after a 3-day camping trip, 5.5hr each way on dusty roads...

DON'T mess with me. Whoa.

**Cattle on a thousand hills: This was the recurring thought that followed me all of Sabbath. Maasai Mara stretched as far as I could see, with lightly rolling hills and wide open expanses of savanna. Each direction I looked, I saw tiny specks dotting the landscape. Hundreds upon hundreds of cape buffalo, wildebeest, antelope and zebras. "Every animal of the forest is Mine, and the cattle on a thousand hills" [Ps. 50:10] I serve a wealthy God.


Favorite thing about my first safari?
Learning yet again that God is one creative Dude. 

Change is Constant

I hate when a simple plan goes awry.

I hate when my afternoon, planned to a T, turns to an O (I'm pretty certain that O is as far from T as you can get).

I hate when I'm inflexible, rigid, unyielding.


I hate change.

I HATE CHANGE.

I. HATE. CHANGE.

...and I hate that I can't change that.

I stared at the most beautiful full moon tonight, knowing that those dear to me will look at the very same moon in a few hours. I stood on the lawn, looking through a tiny window in the trees that perfectly framed the pale gold orb, arms crossed, feeling short on time and long on tasks. My eyes blurred as my mind wandered to the things I have to accomplish tonight. When they refocused, the moon had been partially hidden by branches. I moved forward slightly, reframing the celestial light, freezing the image in my mind. As I drank in the moment, I grew frustrated with the moon's path through the sky. I seemed to continually shift my position on the lawn to keep the moon in view. Just stay still!

You can't stop it, Jess. Time doesn't stop. Change is constant. But it isn't the only constant: I'm constant. Never changing before the ever-changing tide. I will be true to My agreement; the things which have gone out of My lips will not be changed. [Ps 89:34] I'm giving you opportunities to embrace change, to adapt to it, to learn how to deal with it. I love you. I know how to give you good gifts, even when you don't know to ask for them. Lean on Me – the Everlasting Arms.

Ants in my Pants

With the river of safari ants

Tonight, as I headed back to my apartment after my evening shift in the computer lab, fellow teacher Lari and I encountered a new crack in the pavement in front of the ad building. Upon closer investigation, however, the crack kept moving. "Safari ants!" Lari exclaimed. We looked at the landscaping brick along the edge of the pathway, peering at a dark mass of ants the size and thickness of a softball. I don't know much about safari ants except some amusing stories of others dancing when they realized they were standing in the path of the ants. Lari warned me to keep my distance, though I'd already assumed a safe place between him and the huge wad of insects.

Soldier ants created a tunnel for the
worker ants to travel through

I followed the dark trail of arthropods toward the flag pole, intrigued. As I hunched over, straining to see the ants by light of the street lamp, I realized that there was not just one path, but two; a small tributary of six-legged wonders had broken off from the main stream, and I was standing in it. I quickly jumped to the side and stomped around a bit, staring at my shoes intently to ensure I hadn't picked up any hitchhikers. Whew. All clear.

I continued walking toward my apartment, now keenly aware of the sidewalk ahead of me. I got to the front door, hearing our newly adopted kitten crying loudly, then noticed a small gecko chilling right next to the door jam, waiting to slip into our house. I tried to shoo it away, when suddenly OUCH! My pant leg bit me. OW! Another nibble on my other leg. Now I'm dancing on the doorstep, attempting to frighten a gecko out of its doorway hiding place, slapping my legs, and trying to silence a feline yelp from the other side of a window. The gecko finally skittered away and I dashed into my room, hurriedly drawing the curtains and shutting the door to remove the offending pants, er, ants. Hullo, Wednesday.

A soldier ant acting as "sentry" for the river of smaller worker ants.
This photo frightens me.

Could You Be More Boring Please?

I keep clawing at and clambering for the things I left behind, trying to hold them back, keep them still. I know my efforts are futile.

Doesn't life stop when I'm not there? I don't remember anything I've not been involved in.

I selfishly want to be part of the memories being formed at home. I don't want to miss out on any of the fun memories. Boring memories? Eh. Who cares. So I'd really appreciate if you'd just be boring.

Porpoise

Really, I don't know what I want. I feel like I'm floundering from day to day, with no purpose.

Purposeless.

I live life according to purpose. Why complete my Physics assignment? In order to graduate in four, five, six years. Why work for the summer? To earn money to support my studies. I suppose this is the first year in the last fifteen that I've done something that isn't focused on my education. Perhaps, for the first time, my purpose is essentially selfless. In the past, service was more or less an aside; I squeezed it in on weekends or during school breaks, counting down the days until I had to return to the scholarly grind. The distant goal of graduation always loomed, years down the purposeful road.

Now, I can't seem to look beyond tomorrow. I live each day for that day. My purpose has shifted from work-toward-a-distant-goal to today-is-the-day. My purpose here is to serve as a lifewitness to the students and faculty of Maxwell Adventist Academy, and this purpose can be achieved daily. I'm not working to get to the end of the schoolyear – in fact, I'm afraid for the schoolyear to end, for what if I haven't achieved my goal? Living day to day makes time slip by so much more slowly. The only countdown I have is the time until I return home, but I don't want that countdown to reach zero and pull me out of my SM life.

Fears

I'm afraid.

I'm afraid that rather than returning to my comfort zone in 9 months, I'll trade comfort for discomfort again.
I'm afraid to pour my heart into my work because I know I'll grow to love it, only to be torn away in June.
I'm afraid that now I'll always miss the other side of the ocean.
I'm afraid that my world – which is spinning and moving along without me – will leave me behind.
Sometimes I'm afraid to admit that my world is not my home.

I'm most afraid, however, that all of my fears are rational and real.


Perhaps, by the time I'm called to leave, I'll have been prepared in such a way that these are no longer fears.

Perhaps not.

I'm afraid to wonder.

 

Journal Entry

I feel most lonely at night. I'm busy during the day, and can draw energy from people around me. At night, though, when it's time to review the day, I'm reminded of what's different and what I'm missing. It's all too easy to forget that things are different and new and uncomfortable at Andrews, too. I miss my normal contingent of friends. I miss Improv...boy, do I miss Improv. Sunday's drama meeting whet my appetite. But then again, I don't miss homework late into the night. I enjoy being around people younger than 18 years old... most of the time. :) I don't really know what I'm waiting for/expecting. I'm generally very happy. I'm just...confused? I don't know what goal I'm working toward. IN school, it's the next break. Here, I don't know. I don't want to look forward to June (whoa, that's far away) because I know by that time I won't want to be done. Kinda sucks, really; I know that I'll always be missing one side of the ocean or the other form now on. Way to plant your heart on two sides of the world, Jess. Guess it'll make heaven that much sweeter.

Huh. I don't know. When will I look beyond tomorrow? Should I? I feel purposeless, wandering.

A Distressing Diagnosis

Dx: Infected by a lethal virus. Very contagious. Fast spreading. Metastasizes rapidly.


I hate sin. 
I hate what sin does.
It simply devours all that is good.
It gives attitudes we didn't ask for.
It tears people apart.
It is sadness and anger and discouragement.

I wish I hated sin. 
I can't really seem to let it go.
I allow it to eat all the goodness from my life when good could easily triumph.
I let my attitude stoop to that which the devil would have it be.
I allow sin to drive a wedge between others and myself.


Rx: Jesus. Daily, as needed.

Snoopervision

Supervision is a tricky thing. It's like trying to be a spy that's noticed, while simultaneously attempting to be discreet. You're supposed to patrol the campus, ensuring there's enough room for light between guys and girls – to adhere to the "hands-off" policy – yet not intrude on their private conversations.

I'm not a very skilled snoopervisor.

Yesterday, though, I was about to record my first social. As I was making my rounds in front of the boys' dorm, across the campus I saw two handholders. TROUBLE. I altered my steps to head their way, faintly recognizing one individual as one of the senior guys, but still unable to recognize the other. I continued walking, planning and dreading what I was about to say. A few steps later, I stopped in my tracks. Individual #2 was a junior. A junior guy. Yep. I turned on my heel as nonchalantly as possible and suddenly became enthralled with the trees in front of me.

Kenyan males often hold hands with their other male friends, interlocking their fingers as they stroll down the sidewalk. Yet another thing to get used to...

It makes supervision interesting, however. I peer into a throng of students, trying to determine who's sitting on whose lap, whose arm is around whose shoulder, and who's holding whose hand. Girl-girl, guy-guy, guy-guy...check. I go on my merry way.

In case of electric shock...

What would you do in case of electric shock in the laboratory?
the safety lab questionnaire asked.

My sneaky photo of Physics I Lab

According to one of my freshman Biology I students:
"Turn off the electricity, then hit that person with a strong material made out of wood."

Favorite quote of Kenya thus far. Oh, how I love the freshmen.

NOTE: This young lady was obviously not paying attention when I explained that you should turn off the power and remove the wire with rubber gloves. I'm hoping she's not the only one around when I'm being electrocuted.

Science Gal!

I, Jessica Stotz, am the Clark Kent of science laboratories.

K₂SO₄ Cr₂ (SO₄) ₃ • 24H₂O
i.e. Chromium (III) potassium sulfate
i.e. Chrome

Whoosh! Bam! Pow!

What's that? Over there? Dashing between the science building and the gymnasium?
It's a gazelle! It's a grey crowned crane! It's...a girl?

Yes. The truth comes out.

I never said that I was the SuperWoman of anything. Oh no, no, no. I am the Clark Kent of science laboratories. The geeky, bespectacled, little-understood character. Yup. Why else would I hide away in a closet the size of a telephone booth and change from a science lab instructor to a PE teacher in 3.87 minutes?

Whoosh! Bam! Kablooie!

Watch out, world. Soon we'll be seeing students doing biceps curls with beakers and playing basketball wearing labcoats and safety goggles.

Window Shopping

Today, we went with the Raymonds and the Smoots to the market. We made our way down the "aisles" between pole booths and squished to one side to allow a lumber cart to squeeze through. I walked with my arms folded across my chest, holding the zippers of my jacket pockets as nonchalantly as possible to discourage/thwart pickpockets. 

As we browsed the shops cascading with shoes, scarves, tomatoes, dried anchovies, and watches, I began to do some window shopping. Boy windows, girl windows; happy windows, sad windows; Christian windows, Muslim windows; child windows, adult windows. As I peered into these deep brown windows, the windows stared back into my blue ones. Some windows were cloudy, while others were crystal clear. Each window had something fascinating inside. I wanted to delve into the secrets each one held. 

Give me Your eyes so I can see.

The Hills are Alive!

Whoa. Nuh-uh. No way.

Happy Sabbath!

...but we'll come back to that.

Look who's comin' up over the hill...Sabbath was beautiful. Look who's shinin' on my windowsill...I woke up to sunlight mingled with birdsongs streaming through my window and smiled.  I strolled over to breakfast, reveling in a weekend off-duty.
With the blue birds singin' and the blue bells ringin'...The church bells called me out of my reverie and I grabbed my Bible and keys to head to the sanctuary. It's Sabbath again! Another inspired sermon from Pastor Kent was immediately followed by a baptism.

Pastor Kent and baptizee

>>Coolest story: On Sunday, Brianna came to Pastor Kent to express her interest in baptism. Less than three hours later, sister Sabrina expressed the same interest.
"You must have been talking to your sister!"
"What? Brianna is thinking about being baptized, too?" I LOVE how the Spirit moves. Whoa.

As if that wasn't enough to make a Sabbath spectacular, all of the volunteers were invited to the Raymonds for a sushi dinner. "Interesting," as Violetta put it. My palate does not greet seaweed with open arms; maybe a limp handshake. I crashed on my bed in the sunshine with the cool breeze and dozed off, waiting for the phone call invitation for a hike.

Battling the winds atop the Ngongs

I climbed into the Crutcher's Land Rover for a trip to the Ngong Hills, a distant landmass that was until now unexplored by a Stotz. Strange, I thought. This is the first time I've been  in this vehicle since Cassie and I were picked up from the airport. One month and two days. Time has a very interesting way of both rushing and crawling by.
Whoa. Nuh-uh. No way.
Have I really been in Kenya for one month? 10% of my mission experience done? Seems I was just packing at home. Then again, packing seems like a distant memory. Wow. 31 days. Meetings and trips and classes and handshakes and jambos and smiles and tears and...I'm in KENYA.

As we crept up the rutted terrain, bouncing and jerking, I couldn't wipe the silly grin off my face. Beautiful. We crawled out of our vehicles, zipping up our jackets to shut out the wind. As we hiked up and over peak after peak (and Jessica's lowland blood dropped PO2 in the thin air at 7,000+ feet), I couldn't help but feel just like Maria von Trapp, hiking among those living hills, the wind singing a secret, sacred song (accented by Jessica's wheezing). I thought of throwing my arms wide and spinning in circles just like Julie Andrews, but then remembered she did so in privacy, and decided to preserve my dignity.

After some amazing Ethiopian food at Habesha's - everyone should try injera and shiro at least once - I sank back onto my pillow and considered life:
Whoa. Nuh-uh. No way.
God has blessed me so abundantly? Nuh-uh. No way is this my life. No way God loves me that much.
Oh yeah. Yes-huh. Yahweh loves ME.

All About Attitude

How drastically different a day-in-review can be with a change in attitude! I was writing in my prayer journal last night – praises and requests – and noticed that virtually every one of my praises had some sort of "but" disclaimer.

"Great day!" I wrote. "Beautiful sunshine (but hot). Trip to town (but van broke down). Hammock time! (but spent all my time hanging it and no time in it). Zucchini bread! (but burned). Joint worship success (but rowdy students during song service)."

Imagine if I had been in a poor-me mood:
Hot. Van broke down. Wasted the afternoon searching for and braiding rope. An expected delectable treat turned out to be charcoal. Students started pushing one another instead of singing "I Have Decided".

A mindset is a powerful thing. Praise God for offering me a positive one...for FREE. Epic win.

Dear Wednesday

 Wednesday. 9:50 p.m. Science Building Office.

Dear Wednesday,

Please end. I realize that technically I haven't worked more than twelve hours today, but I'm ready to see my apartment again. My clothes are still strewn across the floor from my hurried wardrobe change in the 5 minutes between lab and PE. I still have my whistle around my neck, though PE ended 4.5 hours ago.

I entered into your Wednesdayness hopeful and excited about a lab activity that was easy, yet intellectually helpful; but you have sucked out the hopefulness and injected a sick sense of awe at how far from correct students can be. Wednesday, do you have a heart? Do you have a soul? No. I think not.

My battle is not against flesh and blood. Nor is it against Wednesdays. Oh Great Teacher, thank you for giving me days to make Sabbath an even greater blessing.

-jms

In Response to "Behold, the Power of a Red Pen"

It could always be worse. Boy oh boy could it be worse. God is really good at reminding us how thankful we can and should be... >>


Just in case you can't read the tiny print:

Test Form    
Score: 0/100

Professor's Response

Dear Michael,

Every year I attempt to boost my students' final grades by giving them this relatively simple exam consisting of 100 True/False questions from only 3 chapters of material. For the past 20 years that I have taught Intro Communications 101 at this institution I have never once seen someone score below a 65 on this exam. Consequently, your score of a zero is the first in history and ultimately brought the entire class average down a whole 8 points.


There were two possible answer choices: A (True) and B (False). You chose C for all 100 questions in an obvious attempt to get lucky with at least a quarter of the answers. It's as if you didn't look at a single question. Unfortunately, this brings your final grade in this class to failing. See you next year!

May God have mercy on your soul.

Sincerely,
Professor William Turner

P.S. If all else fails, go with B from now on. B is the new C.

The Laws of Kenya

I've received all sorts of axioms and advice from the various faculty and nationals here.

• Don't squish bugs; flick them.
• Be careful when taking pictures of people. A Maasai could be insulted and/or demand payment.
• Don't stop the car if you hit a pedestrian (you could be mobbed)
• Toilet paper is valuable.
• Never eat Kenyan cornflakes with warm milk (unless you like the taste of cat food).

Weirdioms of Kenya:

• All of the electrical outlets have on/off switches.
• Many of the nationals respond, "I'm fine" to a "Hello!" 
• The salad dressing tastes like lemon with a bit of oil added. Woo-eeee! 
• The country is fluorescent. Incandescent bulbs are few and far between.
• Toads seem to be much more lively here. 
• SPEED BUMP! ...every 6 feet.

Random happenings:

• The Maxwell Handshake is one of the most fun introductions ever invented.
• The Maxwell Hug isn't worth it.
• I had haystacks (made with bland potato chips rather than Fritos) dumped on my foot.
• I refereed a volleyball game after cramming all day to learn the rules. What a poser. 
• A baby gecko – about 2 inches long – was visiting with Cassie and I in our apartment before it dropped its tail on my laptop. It is now approximately 1.25" long.

Other tidbits:

• Maxwell's well water is safe to drink! Woohoo. And we even have a water-tastes-good filter in our apartment.
• Shower = hot water! Provided we turn the water heater on before we shower. And the shower head is amazing! Way more water than any other dorm I've lived in.
• THORNS. They are everywhere. Bushes, grass, feet, fingers, everywhere. Always wear shoes. Thick shoes. Maybe even steel-plated, kevlar-coated shoes.

Behold, the Power of a Red Pen

I have no weapons training. I've completed neither hunters' safety nor gun safety classes, and I've only held a gun a half-dozen times. The closest I've come to using weaponry is fishing. So how was I given the right to wield a blood-red pen? Slashing my way through an incorrect answer never feels right. There is a fine line between mercy and unhealthy coddling, and I'm having a difficult time defining that line.

vs.

I've heard rumors – all too true, I'm afraid – that 4 of 18 MAA students passed the junior math class last year. 22% passed. Not 22% with an A or B, but 4 who had anything above an F. Unacceptable! I thought.

I've spent the last two days grading lab safety questionnaires; not a difficult assignment by any means. I've seen more misspellings of "goggles" than I'd ever imagined: gugoles, gogles, and googles ("googles" shows up more frequently than "goggles"!). And now a quiz grading dilemma has arisen: a practical lab quiz waiting for an adjustment to the points possible since time ran out, but raw scores ranging from 42% to 100%. I also found three students with the study sheet for the quiz in their hand as we were taking the practical exam. I simply took the sheets away when I could have (and perhaps should have) given them a zero on the assignment. Where does mercy overstep its bounds?

I must continually remind myself that thorough knowledge is more important than a high GPA. I can't force students to learn that which they do not want to know. I can only show them what I know with as much excitement as I can muster. Show them what I know and pray.

A Powerful Equation

I am a tutor. I (attempt to) help students understand difficult concepts and equations. What follows is an equation so incredibly simple that most of us forget how effective it is.

Σ = δ or
S = d or
Virtus = Dies or
nguvu = siku or
fuerte = día or
strength = day.

Yep. Simplistic. Trying to complete the proof? Deuteronomy 33:25b // "...your strength will equal your days."


This week has helped me realize that sometimes God, Whose strength is "made perfect" in my weaknesses, gets a little carried away with His strength-sharing. I propose the following revision to the equation above:

Σ ≥ δ or
strength ≥ day.

Many days, I lay my head on the pillow, excited about what tomorrow may bring, ready to greet others with a good-morning grin. Other days, I get to lunch and wonder how I'll ever drag myself through the afternoon. The last two days have been Σ = δ days, but that's more than enough to be thankful for. Perhaps that simply means I've been giving that extra strength – the Σ - δ –  away.


One more equation:

Σ - δ = G.
G = a gift. Gifts are free, and they're both received and given. Freely you have received; freely give.


II Chronicles 15:7 // Be strong, and do not give up! Your work will be rewarded.