Jungle walks, razor grass, and first week of school

I've been here for a little over a week now and I absolutly love it here! Its so beautiful, and the school and village where I'm living is so peaceful. I feel closer to God here than I've ever felt. Our village is about an hour boat ride up two rivers, and the school is 2 miles up the tractor trail from the village. The school itself is in a 12 acre clearing in the jungle, the round school building is set in the middle of campus surrounded by the kitchen, the 2 dorms, several staff duplexes, and the wood shop that is currently under construction.

I've had a weeks worth of class now. This week I've actually had 3 days with 2 hour long class periods since another class isn't starting till this coming week so I've been using their class period along with mine. I'm having a blast teaching! I was really nervous about it coming down here, but I'm enjoying it so far. My first quiz/test is this coming tuesday so I hope all my students do well.

We have 11 students so far, and one other girl is coming in tonight so we'll have 12. I'm the ladies dean, I have 4 young ladies right now, soon to be 5, and I have been blessed to have a group awesome girls! Friday night I came back to the dorm after practicing for special music and found 3 of the girls having a Bible study with the one girl who is not an Adventist, wow I was amazed and happy for that. Keep our school, and the girls in your prayers!

Yesterday after church a group of us went on a hike in the jungle. We left at almost 4pm, and the sun goes down here at around 5:45. The hike began on the sandy tractor trail that runs by the school, and we crossed the runway where the mission planes land. About a half mile down the trail we decided to take a smaller sand trail off to the left to see where it would take us. It gradually became more and more narrow until it was a single person path that was dirt packed covered with dead leaves. We headed deeper, and deeper into the jungle, watching for any wildlife or other interesting sitings, still hoping to see one of the jaguars whose prints we see around campus.

Soon the path became muddy since it was getting close to the river, and it was where the water flows when we get heavy rain. Thankfully I was barefoot since I had came in flip-flops and had taken them off, so it was quite fun to run through the mud. Three of us, Aaron, Kurt and myself decided to start running down the trail since everyone else was proceeding rather slowly and we wanted to have fun, so off we ran. Taking turns here and there, and leaping over fallen trees and other things on the path. We ran for about 10 minutes when suddenly I felt sharp pain tear throuh my left foot and ankle, and suddenly realized that the trail had become over run with razor grass. Instantly Aaron and I, who were barefoot and bare legged, stopped and began to attempt to disentangle ourselves from the dreaded plant. For those of you who are unaware of what this grass is, it is a tall grass that will reach out its blades and grab your skin and once it is on your skin it will tear into your epidermis until it is reduced to bleeding shreds. Well, okay, maybe I did exaggerate a bit, but it is very painful and does cut up any skin it comes into contact with. I have defiantly learned a health respect for this grass.

Well after about 10 min of carefully backtracking up the trail, attempting to keep from incuring any further war wounds without success, we finally escaped the clutches of this dreaded green plant. Now we began running again, much more carefully this time, and when we arrived back on the main trail from our little detour, found the rest of the group. Since the sun had set, and darkness was fast approaching we decided it best to begin our trek back to the school. We arrived just before it was totally dark, muddy, battle scarred, and without seeing our jaguar. Oh well, I guess there's always next time!

Finally in Guyana

After a long, mostly sleepless, night on the plane I have finally arrived in Georgetown, Guyana. The last leg of my journey was from JFK airport in NYC to Georgetown, lasting 5 hours and 15 min. Usually I have no trouble falling asleep on the plane, no sooner are we in the air and I'm dead to the world until the announcement is heard overhead that we are on final approach. This time however proved to be rather difficult for reasons unknown to me. It didn't help that by my last flight my back, leg and butt muscles were chastising me for keeping them in the same position for such an extended length of time. But I finally fell asleep for fitful intervals about halfway through my last flight.

I woke up this morning to the sun peeking through my airplane window, glistening off cumulus clouds that were scattered through out the sky. Below me and behind me lay the sparkling water of the caribbean, and ahead I could see the outline of the coast of Guyana a deep green. We landed on runway 060 and exited the plane at 0633. Suddenly I'm no longer tired and its off to customs and immigration.

I was met by Melissa, who is director of the school I'll be teaching at. Turns out Maria, another SM who will be teaching at one of the other schools here was on the same flight I was on. Now comes the task of fitting both of our luggage in our "taxi" which is an old Honda Accord.

Next comes the drive from the airport to the mission house here in Georgetown that is sort of the stopping house for any missionaries working here in Guyana when they're in town. Driving here is going to be quite the experience. It is strangely reminiscent of driving I encountered in Cuba and Jamaica, only a bit more risky. It seems the drivers here pay no heed to any of the markings on the roads, or to oncoming traffic for that matter, weaving in-and-out of traffic and swerving back into their lane at the last possible second. Gotta love it

I spent the morning running around town getting a few things like a wash tub, and hammock. The shops here are also very interesting.

Well its on to the interior, with its verdent rainforests and wild animals in just a few hours. I can't wait!

Leaving for Guyana

So here I sit in Spokane Intnl' airport. I've passed through security and checked my bags, so I have gotten significantly futher than my last attemt. I can't believe that this time I am really leaving. I think it is finally sinking in that I am actually going to be gone until next June. Wow. Today I saw my family for the last time this year; we had family worship for the last time; last night I did my last load of laundry that won't be by hand; and many other things for the "last time" before I go.

The future is full of unexpected surprises and findings. Many unknowns, and exciting adventures. Please keep me in your prayers as I head down south. Everyone up here will certainly be in mine. As I look around us and see what's happening in the world, I can't help but think about how near the end is. I pray that you and I will look toward that great day when we can look up and see the face of our Saviour coming in the clouds of glory!

Vaya con Dios!

Felxibility is Key

The beauty of plans, is that they usually do not turn out as planned. I left for the Spokane this morning with every intention to leave the US and arrive in Guyana tomorrow morning. But courtesy of Hurricane Hanna closing down JFK airport in NYC, I am once again sitting in my room at home, waiting till next Tuesday to leave now.

I remember something my dad would always say when things would fail to go as planned on mission trips he led: "Flexibility is the key to being a missionary." That's something that I need to internalize for whatever lies ahead. Sometimes the plans we make are not the plans that our Father has for us. Sometimes our adversary throws things our way that may change our plans. But no matter what happens I can trust that although all things may not BE good, God can "cause all things to work together for the good of those who love Him, and who are the called according to His purpose."

While I may be a little disappointed that my departure is postponed, in the long run, it is not the end of the world; the little things that change our plans seldom are. The lesson that I can take from experiences such as this is to be willing to put my trust completely in God. Be willing to exchange my plans for His, even be willing to postpone my plans when necessary. After all, if I am following His leading, doesn't it make sense that I should also follow His time-table.

"Faith is trusting God - believing that He loves us and knows best what is for our good."

~E. G. White

A Chronicle of Packing

I will unashamedly proclaim myself to be among the rank of procrastinators when it comes to packing. I pride myself in being able to rapidly assemble the objects of interest into the small travel compartment in record time, before dashing out the door to the mode of transportation being used. This time, however, common sense whispered into my ear that this practice would best be put to rest for this particular trip.

9 months is a long time. Most certainly longer than any other trip that I have had to pack for in the past. How exactly does one go about deciding what items merit entry into the sacred suitcase? What items are worthy of honorable mention, or quickly passed over in search of something more important? These, and many other questions, swirled in my busy brain as I pondered the situation at hand.

After several trips to the store (actually, just two) I begin to arrange my stash into piles, whose true meaning only I can understand. I am amazed by the sheer magnitude of the heights obtained by the mound on my bed. Onlookers can only shake their head in dismay at the accumulation of apparent disorder in my room. They do not appreciate the care and attention I have put into stratagizing the arrangement of my many treasures. But I shall not let their derision dishearten me in any way. I have a plan, and I am determined to see it carried out to its completion.

Carefully, with intense strategy, I map out the location of each and every item. The utmost precision must be taken to assure the safe arrival of each precious piece of possession, while at the same time accounting for the limited space and weight. Like puzzle pieces falling into place, a habitat is found for each of the items one-by-one. Even before my very eyes, the conglomeration of belongings remaining on the bed becomes increasingly smaller. Hope springs up, perhaps all the necessary articles will find refuge in the far reaches of my suitcases after all.

When the dust has settled, and the final count is in, I stare in amazement. I still have 14 pounds of available weight between my twin travel companions. This has truly been a trying day, but the forces of good have prevailed. When all is said and done, I stare with subdued pride at my accomplishment; yet somehow I can't seem to shake the feeling "surely there is something that I am missing!"