Still in the states, but ...

It’s about time I wrote an update – and it’s kind of a strange position I’m in because I get to announce what many of you don’t know yet … I have moved to Philadelphia. Yes, I returned from Africa June 15. I didn’t gather any moss and rolled on over across the country to Pennsylvania.

It may sound random or shocking to some, but the decision was a long one in the making –one of the many things I was considering and processing during my 7 months in Africa. I was pretty set on applying for a graduate program in community development at Eastern University here in Philly. Though I leaned away from that while in Sierra Leone, Philly still felt like the ticket. East coast, urban area, history, diversity, and boyfriend ;)

Yes, Ted is now a first year law student at Drexel University, which is in Philly. I live in a bright pink house in West Philly, an area known as University City – very funky, colorful, filled with yummy ethnic food and parks. My three housemates are wonderful; we’re all about the same age, and two of them are even West African. Just a park with a bi-weekly Farmer’s Market separates my house from Ted’s studio apartment.

While looking into some graduate programs in the area, I’ve found a full-time job working in academic affairs at Penn Engineering. It’s about a 45 minute walk from my house, or a 10 minute trolley ride, and it’s a lovely location (crazily enough, it’s just two blocks from Ted’s law school.) My co-worker is very involved in the African Diaspora community in Philly; she is a wealth of knowledge. Apparently she knows some Sierra Leoneans in town – can’t wait to revive some of my Krio for those encounters!

I’ve been here for 6 weeks now. I am still moving in – it can be a little tricky to acquire what you need without a car – and I’m really enjoying my neighborhood and the city of Philadelphia as a whole. I have pictures of the Lighthouse kids pinned on my cubicle wall –still think about them often and hope the best for them. I found out a couple weeks ago that some of the kids I met in Chennai, India in 2006 are now benefitting from World Vision’s work. Wonderful news, as we’ve prayed for a long time for Christian aid to come to the bus park where several of them live.

As always, if you would like to know how you can support the Lighthouse kids in Freetown, Sierra Leone, or any child in the grip of poverty's destructive elements, you can always ask me about child sponsorship. :)

Reverse culture shock? Ya...

About the reverse culture-shock. It was not as shocking as when I returned from India two years ago. I think I was bracing myself for it this time, expecting to feel really out-of-sorts when I got home.

I did abhor my cell phone for the first few days. I just wanted to take life slow, and not feel barraged with lots of noise and busy-ness. After seven months of having a phone that only a few people called me on, and not having easy access to the internet, I didn't feel the need to be constantly in touch with 50 people at once.

I also thought it would be important to take things a little slow, allowing myself to realize where I had just been, and not cut myself off from Africa by plunging into my old daily routine. I'm glad I did that.

The supermarkets were a tad overwhelming. I couldn't bring myself to look above the bottom shelf in the store aisles, afraid that the rows of options and bright packaging would be too much to handle in once glance.

At the same time, I experienced going from the equivalent of Walmart in Kenya to the Kibera slums in just a five-minute walk. So there was shock there also, and it made returning to the U.S., land of consumer abundance, less disorienting.

It's also been so nice having great friends to share about Africa with, and I am still in the process of this! In the process of working on sharing a few pictures with you all, and thanking my very generous financial and prayer supporters for all the faith and excitement you had in my trip.

It's an ongoing process that I can't let distractions snatch away! I have heard some updates from Freetown recently. Mainly, that all the Lighthouse kids went on a week-long retreat and had meaningful reflection and fellowship time. Several of the Lighthouse youth are currently enrolled in a summer school where, the staff reports, the instructors actually TEACH. Hippee! Santigie and Papanie are among the students doing that right now ;) I have a feeling Victoria and Veronica (her twin sister) are not doing as well, so they are in need on continued prayer.

More soon ... hopefully some pictures to share this week! And if you're still reading ... you're awesome! Thanks for being a cool friend :)

Being back from Africa...

Arriving home felt strangely normal. I stumbled into my parents' house in Carlsbad, stomach a little weak from the 4 different brands of medication I was on, and all of a sudden, it felt like no time had passed since leaving for Africa.

But time had passed. Seven long months in East Africa, the Middle East and then West Africa did happen. Those experiences molded me and changed me, and yet, like the kids walking through the wardrobe returning from Narnia, it felt like no time had really gone by.

I forced myself to take it easy those first few weeks at home, and I'm glad I did. Otherwise, the "reverse culture shock" might have been worse, and I may have rushed back into busy American life without taking time to consider all the places I had come from, and the beautiful people I had met.

The past 6 weeks have been filled with incredible blessings. I was reunited with my family and with Ted. I spent a week in Sacramento with Ted's wonderful family and meet many important people in his life. I also had opportunities to see several good friends. I went to a couple weddings, had a huge 60th birthday party for my mom, and introduced Ted to lots of people.

And the whole time I had Africa on my mind. Before coming back, our team leader Stephanie asked us what we would do to keep our Sierra Leone experience alive. Who would we tell about it? How would we remember and not let the memories become buried? Cami, the field director in Freetown, asked us more pointedly, "How are you going to be true to this place? To the kids we all got to know?" Santigie, Victoria, Papanie - how will I be true them in how I tell their stories, and how I choose to live.

I think those are important questions to be asking myself. About one month ago, I printed all the pictures I had taken with the Lighthouse kids and wrote personalized notes for each of them. Cami asked us to please send pictures that we took of the kids back to Freetown, so that the youth could own more pictures of themselves. I wanted to do that as quickly as I could, and it ended up being such a joy, a special opportunity to let them know I remember them, and I value each of them so highly.

I don't like thinking about not seeing the people in Freetown again. I suppose that's hard with any place you visit. I just feel so blessed to have had the opportunity to go, and I continue to hope that my experience there will be integrated into where I am now.

I know God is the perfect Author who can weave all of these strands into something excellent for His glory.

It's noisy outside

It's noisy on the streets outside. But, then, it's always noisy on the streets of Freetown. Except for the cool, dark nights passing by the lonely cemetery in Murray Town. Or when you climb the windy hills and sit amongst the gray and green cotton trees in Wilberforce and Hill Cott. Old, clapboard houses and long stone walls splashed with bright, advertising colors.
But the noises aren't all bad. Mangoes for sale. Sheeptoe, guinea, red cherry. Oh my mouth is watering; I will miss that sweet, juicy taste available morning, noon and night. Cold water, peanut cakes, pineapple, biscuits. All fresh produce! Everything you need so easy to pick up on the side of the road, just picked from fields in the provinces.
The sound of hard-working individuals. Men balancing twenty foot boards on their heads, weaving in and out of taxi and pedestrian traffic, women toting baskets of coal, two, three, four... no, seven baskets high! So graceful as they take care not to fall through the cracks in the cement slab sidewalk, into the running sewage below.
The splatter of rain. It rained today. The sound muffles the blare of honking horns and vendors announcing their goods. Soft blankets of water left us scurrying for shelter: a wooden bench offered by a crew of firemen seeming anxious for distraction. They ushered us to the junction, securing a taxi with a "fine price" for our desired destination. So willing to help; always a kind smile on the streets here, in response to our attempted Krio greetings.
A walk through Kroo Bay leaves a trail of squealing kids, all crying "Aporto! Aporto!" the Temini word for white person. If not "Aporto!" then "white man! white man!" Won't be hearing that sound again for awhile...

I love this city. I love its character. It is a part of me now, and I will never forget this town, nor this beautiful continent.

Our last weeks were awesome. For our final week of tutoring we gathered all the kids in the staff house on Dillet Street and showed them 6 episodes of the BBC series "Planet Earth." The films are stunning and it was so fun to see the kids' eyes widen in amazement at the totally unbelievable animals and insects and landscapes. They often shouted "Eh!" in unison as they saw clips of how big and diverse and stunning this world is. It was so cool.

And then, last week, the Servant Team took our debriefing retreat "upcountry." We went to a National Park called Outamba-Kilimi, past Kamakwie village on the Guinea border. It took about 10 hours and 3 modes of transport to get us there. We were IN THE JUNGLE. With white monkeys on our campsite, hippopotami, big crazy bugs straight from outer-space, and yes, MAMBA snakes (we just saw one). But it was awesome. We got the real upcountry experience, had good time to reflect on our four months here, and came home with literally hundreds of bites on our legs. ;)

And last night, we said good-bye at Lighthouse. The kids gathered round and took pictures with us, prayed for us, and said "thank you" in various ways. It's so difficult saying good-bye. I didn't really know what to say, because I don't really know if I believe that I won't be seeing them again.

Now, I'm about to fly off! I must go, but I am so glad that my leaving won't mean I am cut off from Freetown. I have friends here now, and there's no way I can forget this place, because it has blessed me and, I hope, changed me!

Love, Katharine

Burray Town Beach

The beauties of this country, and the beauty of the relationships built here.

On Sunday, WMF celebrated "Princess Day" with five of the Lighthouse girls. The title sounded silly to some of us, that is, until our team leader reminded us that "girls are never [normally] treated nice here." A sobering reminder!

The teenage Lighthouse girls, for the second year in a row, were treated to a wonderful full-day beach outing. Eleven of us hopped in a chartered poda-poda at 8:30am and headed to Burray Town, a beach further town on the Freetown peninsula, about 2 hours away. The luxory of a paved road made the ride smooth(er) and problem-free. (Well, there were those two times our driver almost rammed into oncoming traffic and some people's hearts jumped into their throats, but whatever! ;)

At the beach, Cami shared the Bible story of Hagar, Abraham and Sarah's Egyptian slave, reminding us of God's ever-present love for us. He is the God who sees us (Genesis 16).

Then, we played some beach games, coordinated by the U.S. Servant Team ladies - one game I learned in the comfy and laughter-filled environs of my college apartment (the clapping animal game!) and the other I played once at my Trinity youth group. It involved human pyramids and making shapes in the sand with our bodies. Lots of laughter and squealing involved!

Florence (the girls' Bible study leader) coordinated the food - we ate shwarmas and pepper chicken for "snack" and then soda, juice, water and *delicious* couscous and vegetable salad and more chicken for lunch. We played in the ocean, helping the girls stay afloat and dive under waves and splashed around in the river. We did live like royalty for the day!

It all culminated in the "dressing of the princesses." Each girl modeled their new African dresses that the Lighthouse tailors had sown for them, and jewelry purchased with Florence. They looked so beautiful and were having so much fun.

Again, elements of this may sound cheesy, but it really is true - how often are girls appreciated here? Told that they're beautiful and valued and given a chance to just enjoy a full day like this? Even as the day was closing some grown men were hanging around our post and asking if they could "take" one of the girls as a wife. I was so disgusted I wanted to scream.

But they were given a day to be appreciated and loved. And I loved that WMF's heart and mission is to pour into these girls' lives; to encourage and love them despite all they have been through.

On the streets

Two weeks ago, Word Made Flesh hosted a seminar entitled "Children in Crisis." A man from Britain delivered the 5-day conference, and WMF invited the parents or guardians of each of the Lightouse kids to attend, creating an opportunity to give them tools for raising their own kids who have lived through traumatic experiences and also allowing WMF to deepen their relationships with the Lighthouse kids' families. It was a good, enriching week.

Sitting on hard wooden benches at Robert Street Baptist Church from 8am to 4:30pm, serving tea and coffee, and mingling with Lighthouse parents, I was able to learn about the fragility of children, how formative their first years are, and the immense impact and power each adult in their life holds over them.

Two boys, both entering the Lighthouse program but without sponsors from America, were on my heart and mind. Best friends, they attended the seminar together, as they had no guardian willing or able to come on their behalf. One of them, I learned, still sleeps on the street; the other just came off the streets as his father invited him to live with him again. Neither are in school

I won't share too much about the boys right here, but I've known them since my first week in Freetown, and only during the seminar did I learn of their current situation. Through the seminar's content I began to understand how a life of poverty weighs on a child's mind and soul, subconciously feeding them all kinds of lies about their value and worth as dearly loved human beings.

All of the Lighthouse youth, except for these boys, have monthly sponsors. The sponsors' contributions to WMF enable the staff here to enroll the kids in school, pay for their lunches for the week, and organize meaningful outings, opportunities to have fun and grow, and to feel affirmed by WMF mentors.

One of these boys gives me joy from his bright smile, the other has quite a tough exterior from all he's gone through and reminds me of the sorrow and hardships in this place - both weigh on my heart and I hope some people some potential sponsors will soon show interest in them.

Another WARM Freetown day - gray clouds announce the enroaching rainy season. I've heard that Sierra Leone gets the most rainfall of any place in the world. Their rainy season lasts from May to October. Sierra Leone also has some of the most nutrient-rich soil on earth. And it's also the poorest, or perhaps second-poorest, country there is. It doesn't make sense does it? No; and it is tragic.

More from me later - just about one month to go before we leave; wow! Much love to you all!

Receiving a piece of bread

The foundational "lifestyle celebration" in the Word Made Flesh community is intimacy. Intimacy with God. We recognize this as our highest and deepest calling, the reason we were created, to know Christ and thus worship Him. I realize that may sound a little sentimental to some, but over and again during my time in Africa this draw towards intimacy with Jesus has been a continuous, underlying theme of each day.

One Sunday in Nairobi, the lyrics of a worship song from church stuck in my head and resonated within me: "My Comfort, my Shelter, Tower of refuge and strength, Let every breath, all that I have, never cease to worship You...My Saviour, my closest Friend, I will worship You until the very end.

As I left church, I asked myself if that is really true in my life. Do I truly consider Jesus my One and only Saviour, and my closest, most treasured Friend? I want to. I want Him to be my All.

And here in Freetown, at our Monday meetings we have been looking at Scripture and sharing about whole-hearted devotion, having an undivided heart. It has been so good for my soul to reflect on how deep God's love is, and challenging to consider that He alone is worthy of my praise.

A few weeks ago at First Presbyterian Church we took communion. At this church, the whole congregation walks forward, is handed a wafer and cup of grape juice and then remains standing by the stage, waiting for everyone to join the group and partake in communion together.

As I came forward, Pastor Zizer (my host dad) took a wafer in his hand, made the sign of the cross with it, and held it out for me. I reached forward to take it, but he pulled it back. Confused, I tried to take it from his hand again, but he subtly shook his head, motioned for me to stand still and hold out my hand so that he could hand me the waver, placing it in my open palm.

I started to cry a little as I thought about the picture I was just given of God's love. He gives it freely. It is not something I need to snatch or reach out and grab for myself. God comes down and lavishes His grace upon us (1 John 3:1) though we have hang-ups and make mistakes and can never really get our act together. And that's the point - that we cannot clean ourselves up before coming to God. He is the one that washes us clean, and pours His love and saving grace upon us.

Salone update: Am loving Freetown. Today we return to our "regular" schedule. I have tutoring and my weekly visit to Kroo Bay with Erin to do medical check-ups. We are visiting one woman who had a serious stroke but is walking with a cane now that Erin has been working with her, and a little boy named Ibrahim who has cerebral palsy. And then, I shall return home to do some serious laundry! :) More on last week's "Children in Crisis" conference later...