"Holy angels of the sanctuary, pray for me til I return."

Some life lessons you learn from family never stick and some stay engrained forever. It seems the phrases my grandma taught me are the ones that stick best. The title of this blog is the prayer she drilled into me from a very young age; whenever you go into a Church, you’re to say it and whether you come back the following Sunday or never again.. the angels surrounding the altar will keep your memory close. This prayer brought me to my knees at the Church in Rulenge this week.. I’ve prayed in hundreds of Churches, in approximately 19 countries, famous ones like Sacre Coeur in Paris, the Church of apparitions in Medj, and in front of St. Paul’s chains at a Church in Rome.. but never have I cried through this prayer like I did in the Chapel in Rulenge this week. I do not know if I will return there, but, those angels need to keep a piece of my heart safe, just in case.  This past week has utterly transformed my life and I’m not quite ready to come home.

Prepare yourselves for quite a blog! Decided to give you a nice and long one, since this will most likely be my last.

On Friday the 19^th, I had quiteee a day. I started at the Diocesan orphanage where shouts of ‘Woawo! Woawo!’ (Children’s Swahili for HUG ME!) came from many of my favorite kids. Kati wanted me to see what she has been doing for the year, so, I went to her work after a bit. She works for an organization named Caritas, which mainly helps disabled children and adults; her work varies from day to day, but, Friday is Clinic Day, when people come to receive medication and/or referrals to the hospital. It was very difficult to see the physically handicapped and how they suffer so greatly here in Tanzania. Elephantiasis is surprisingly common, due to the male mosquito I believe, so I saw many cases of that. The hardest case I saw all day was a terribly upset mother carrying her Hydrocephalus child with a spinal injury ; she was referred to Mwanza (an 8 hour and very expensive trip for someone from Rulenge) and when she got there, the doctors would not see her child because she did not have 100,000 TSH. That is an incredibly large amount of money here in Tanzania; people don’t make that in a year. (Equivalent to about $65) She then returned the whole way home and with absolutely no help. (Supposedly her child was born fine and then underwent a simple procedure for something and there were major complications). He was so very cute and happy, but, his life expectancy is so low and it was very difficult to experience.

After working in the morning, Francie and Marcel wanted to take me to the next town over (about an hour away), Ngara, to see WomenCraft. WomenCraft is an organization where very poor women create beautiful baskets, trivets, etc and the proceeds support themselves; they are all over the world, I believe. We also took Sr. Matilda, the English speaking nun from the orphanage. The trip over was very humorous. We were planning to take one of the dolla-dollas (the taxis I said I’d never go in because it’s like a clown car) but then one of the priests was headed in that direction, so we tagged along. He turned on a CD with German and American rap on it, most of which was very inappropriate. Supposedly it was music from Marcel’s computer that he did not want.. I’m still confused on how Fr. got it, but he greatly enjoyed listening to it.. try to image a middle-aged priest and nun in the front, bobbling up and down from the insane roads, jamming to 50 cent’s In Da Club. HAHAHAHA so funny. After the WomenCraft experience, we went around town and we ate dinner there..  I finally had a very African staple, Chips Mayae, which is eggs and fried banana put together on a plate. It was very good, smothered in Chili sauce! We did have to take that taxi home, which wasn’t as bad as I expected, and then I stayed over at the Volunteer House for the night! SLEEPOVER! :) Marcel and I stayed up late talking life things and he graciously gave me seasons 2-6 of Criminal Minds (in English) that he had on his computer!

Saturday I slept in pretty late and then helped the volunteers bottle honey which they do to help support a local teenage runaway. (He sells it at the market on Saturdays).  We then went to the market ourselves, which was also an experience! Francie and I had shoes made out of old tires for only $2! They’re very comfortable on my feet, but, I still have bad blisters, so, my feet are all bandaged up still. I really enjoyed the chill-ness of the day.. we returned home and just hung out, talking, laughing, and then they played guitar and we sang some songs together. All that was missing was a campfire! We decided to go out for dinner to the local bar since it was my last night and we took many of the men from the formation house (they will start seminary next year). The electricity was out when we got there because the hospital was performing an emergency surgery and needed all of the back-up generator assistance. Can you imagine a hospital in America not having enough electricity for one surgery? We all decided that was a worthy cause to have us eat in the dark. I had chips mayae again.. I might have to try and make it when I get home, but will probably have to use potatoes instead of bananas, since we don’t have the correct kind.

Sunday was an emotional-filled day. I accompanied Kati and Marcel to a Protestant service, which I thought was very important to see that side of the African culture.. to be honest with you, it was very difficult to sit through. It was like massively  extreme charismatic s for two and a half hours.. but even worse because they were all screaming in a language I couldn’t understand.. or maybe it was better that way?.. still.. It got under my skin even more as I’ve thought about it, and by no means am I hatin on the Protestants, I am an all-kinds-of-religion-lover. I’ve had this problem with the Catholic Church more often than I’d like to admit in the past 5 years. I don’t know many verses of the Bible by heart, but, I do know excerpts of Matthew 6 and it is my personal opinion that the Lord is going to have this one on the check-list at the gates of heaven.  “And when you pray, you must not be like the hypocrites; for they love to stand and pray in the synagogues and at the street corners that they may be seen. They’ve had their reward. But, when you pray, go into your room and shut the door and pray to your Father who is in secret; and your Father who sees in secret will reward you… And in praying, do not store empty phrases as the Gentiles do, for they think they will be heard for their many words.” All of chapter six addresses this issue. I know the Bible gives us a million different verses on prayer, but I find Matt 6 to be fundamental. It also addresses the same thing I struggled with one of the earlier Americans with: when you do something good, even if in the Church, you don’t need to tell everyone. I’m always very embarrassed when my family brags about the missions I’ve been on, especially since my mother is infamous for giving mine or Ri’s life-story at grocery stores, hair dressers, Target check-outs, etc.. because it’s not me doing it and I can’t take any credit. I’m a flawed human being.. and I still don’t know why He picked me!  I admire my father’s faith very much. He might not think that.. annnd now I’m publicizing it on the internet, but, it’s true. (Sorry if this embarrasses you, pops, but, I gotta say it) I have a good feeling he doesn’t know Matthew 6 like I do, but, he embraces it better than most. He keeps it to himself, but, he’s faithful—he hasn’t let trials and tribulations stay in his way between him and the Big Man upstairs. He doesn’t tell you to do this or that to make you a better Catholic, because it’s between you and Him—praying to your heavenly Father in ssecret. My earthly father’s silent love is beautiful and I think everyone can learn something from him. Conversion isn’t done through preaching at someone, it’s about a conversion of the heart, it’s about relationships, it’s about LOVE. Don’t stand on your high-horse and say what a good Catholic you are, please, I beg you--it gives Catholicism a very, very bad rapt. I struggled with this immensely at Franciscan. This incredible Catholic University was to increase my faith through four years, but, through the selfish and boasting attitudes of so many I encountered (students and faculty alike), the last years were very hard. I know the Faith isn’t about the people, but, it’s hard not to be influenced by them when you’re trusting in the sound Catholicism of the school. I’m not saying I’m right and I’m not saying that everything I believe is 400% in line with the Catechism of the Catholic Faith. But, I’ve seen a lot and I’ve experienced a lot. I’ve seen brokenness some of you will never be able to comprehend, not just here in Tanzania, but even at home. And all I know is, the attitude that Christ is speaking against in Matthew 6 is too common nowadays and it is driving many from the Church. The beautiful thing about my dual degrees in Psychology and Theology is that it’s given me a range of opportunities and classes to understand both how the mind (and therefore emotions, memories, feelings, etc) coincide with religion, which is why I’m so enamored with the theological aspect of hope in suffering (and why I did my thesis on it!). Oh, I feel like this is just becoming a ramble now, but, I hope my point is coming across. I know I’m young, but I’m not under-experienced.. I’ve seen firsthand what LOVE ALONE can do. Stop smacking people with your Bibles and hurtful words and open your damn hearts.

The other emotional aspect of my Sunday was saying good-bye to my German friends. I invited them all to my house in America if they ever have the opportunity to come, but, it’s likely I’ll never see them again and that was hard to muster . They’ve given me so much in just one week. I’m so grateful for their hearts and home the past week and they definitely made my stay in Rulenge unforgettable.

My birthday is tomorrow, July 23^rd. I show my only-childness when it comes to my birthday.. I really like it. So, when I booked my flight home for two days afterrrr I turn 22, I was a little bummed. However, Fr. Simon kicked me out of the house today to ‘plan some surprises’ for tomorrow, so that was very special. I went and visited the hospital today and the gorgeous Dr. Gressmus told me he’s been invited and and I quote “wouldn’t miss the most beautiful girl in Africa’s birthday for the world”. Welp, there was my big birthday gift! Wooooo. I miss home very much, especially my Riley, but I am nervous to come back. The things I’ve experienced have dramatically altered me and I’m not sure how I’ll be able to cope back at home. OH! And I forgot to mention.. remember that big kid job I told you about? Well, I got an email recently and said the other person fell through, so, I have an interview upon returning home… and removing my braids.. hahaha :P I also have another interview for a campus minister position, too. The Lord has taken care of me while I’m here and I’m very greatful for that. I didn’t suffer any major medical concerns, I was only robbed of money once and nothing else was stolen, and He’s setting up opportunities for work when I return home. I’m a lucky girl.

My flight leaves at 12:45 AM on Thursday, putting me in Istanbul, Turkey at 10 AM, and then DC at 6:30 PM, with the time difference. You will all be awake when my flight leaves (5:45 PM on Wednesday the 24^th) so please say a prayer for safe travels! Thank you for following my blog these past two months, especially for your kind comments and words that filled me with hope. Thank you for your silent prayers and sacrifices that I don’t know about, but, gave me strength in the difficult days. I hope to speak to any of you that would like to upon my homecoming. I can’t believe my time has come to end. But, as grandma taught me so well, I know the angels will pray for me here until I return.

Love, Erin. 

I've had the fortune of a 2nd chance, I know the reason that we all should dance.

"I need the fear of a love that’s lost, I need to stop trying to count the cost

I need to fight on the losing side, and always hold true.. I will always stay with you.

Til we know the pain of a broken heart, we can’t walk through fires we didn’t start

Just hold on to the way it is tonight. And learn to love through the darkness and the light

I’m on your side."

I know I’ve been hardcore copying lyrics and such in many of my writings, but, music is an incredibly beautiful way to express yourself… andddd I really miss being able to listen to it, so I just pull lyrics from the vast file folders of music that reside in my brain. The title of this blog and following are from one of my absolute favorite songs, Learn to Love by Needtobreathe. I would really suggest you listen to it whenever you need to feel inspired or hope-filled.. or just right now while you read this even! : ) I’ve been able to apply this song to lots of different aspects of my life in the past few years, but ,especially now as well. I firmly believe that one cannot love with their whole being until they’ve lost a part of their heart. And then this magical thing happens, where the heart tissue regrows itself and becomes a million times stronger and more full. We can’t understand anothers tribulations and trials without experiencing something similar. It’s not about sympathy, it’s about empathy. I hold this philosophy in America, but, it’s been interesting to see it unravel here in Africa, too. No, I’ve never gone hungry. No, I’ve never not had shelter. No, I’ve never been an orphan. But, the crosses I have been asked to bear already have come in handy here. I can relate, maybe not on the same intense level, which cannot be expected since I’m from another country, but I can at least put my broken-but-healing heart out there. I can show them love, not from just a sympathetic pat on the back, but we can share one anothers scars. But, most importantly, what I can do is give them HOPE. One of my favorite Bible verses is from Romans 5.. ‘and hope does not disappoint’. If we hold fast to hope, we cannot be disappointed; disappointment cowers in the face of hope.

But, although these people and kids I’m encountering do have so much suffering to bear, the 2^nd verse from ‘Learn to Love’ applies even better, found in the title. ‘I know the reason that we all should dance’—do you? Do you know why you should be joyful enough to dance every day? I shan’t write why, that’s for you to ponder on your own. But, these people have it. I’m still mystified that every 3^rd world country I’ve visited seem to grasp this concept better than any 1^st world country I’ve experienced. It’s just amazing!

I finished working with the Missionaries of Charity this afternoon. I can’t explain to you how full my heart is. These women are incredible. If you’ve never had the chance to encounter them, I’d really ask you to consider making a trip to one of the many convents in the United States. I’d really like to experience them in my own country soon. They have an orphanage and an elderly women’s home in the convent. I went to mass both mornings at 6:30 AM and then started my day. The children and I could not communicate, but, all the sisters speak English (Mother Teresa required it) so that was fine. I helped with both age groups.. there was a baby-ward and then a young kids one as well. The conditions were much better than the local diocesan orphanage and they seemed to be taken care of better. I could write about my experiences there for hours.. but, I will only write about one thing, which happens to be one of the hardest things I’ve done since I’ve been here.  There were 3 new children that came to the orphanage in the last week, all due to malnutrition; they were 2, 3, and 4. The one little boy, Rasheed, would have been diagnosed with some type of failure to thrive in America. He just didn’t try to do anything and it was quite sad. When I dried him off from his bath and put new clothes on him, he didn’t try to help or move his limbs. He didn’t smile much or talk even. He is the 2 year old and should know how to feed himself, but wouldn’t. I assisted with feeding the littler guys but then was asked to help him out. I really fell in love with him then because you could tell that behind his little eyes, he was in there, just trying to cope with everything that had happened to him.  That afternoon after his nap, while I was holding him on the playground, he started to violently shake and he kept grabbing his chest. He also became very hot, very fast. I immediately ran him to a matron and she to a sister. They laid him down, hoping that would help him, but then he began to vomit uncontrollably and I had to remove him from it because they did not notice and he began to choke. I offered to take him to the hospital myself, but, they said that wasn’t necessary. Wasn’t necessary?! I was very upset.  I cleaned him up and calmed him down until he fell asleep. I cried while holding him, expecting him to pass away before I saw him again.. death in the first few years of life here is sadly common and I had never seen a child become so ill so quickly. I told him I loved him in Swahili and left, still upset by the matter.  I had to leave before he woke, but, sister promised they’d give him medicine upon waking and if it didn’t help, they’d take him to the hospital. I was worried sick until returning back this morning that my little guy wouldn’t make it through the night, but, I was so relieved when I saw his big ol’ head this morning. But, what an intense few hours and what fear came upon me during such. I’m so thankful he is alright now, but, please keep him and all the children of Africa in your prayers, please. I don’t know how I would have handled little Rasheed dying, but, it is a terribly reality for many parents every day here. All seven sisters took a break from their prayer day (Thursdays are always a day of prayer for the MOC’s) to say good-bye to me and they even let me take a picture of them! (which is usually not allowed) Their ministry is so beautiful, I cannot wait to be able to serve with them again.

I come home in one week from today. Boy does time fly! Today is also my mother’s birthday and my parents anniversary—please pray for them both! (I know, she was nuts to be married on her birthday, but, my dad is lucky to only have to remember one date! Ha-ha!) I cannot really comprehend all I’ve learned and experienced, especially just in this last week! I am still so young, with so much of a future ahead of me, but I feel like my life has been dramatically altered. I can’t possibly be the same. As Needtobreathe reminds me, fighting on the losing side isn’t always a bad thing.. I’ve learned so much from this country and staying on Tanzania's 'side', even if it may be a losing one to the rest of the world, will keep me humble and focused on the true meaning of service and love. I know that a piece of my heart, a large piece in fact, of me will stay right here. And that is perfectly okay.

Freedom reigns in this place.

Things have been pretty good. It’s hard to say good because I’ve seen a lot of brokenness and hurt the past two days, but, I’ve enjoyed being able to spend time with these kids and adults, if that makes sense. I’ve spent a majority of my time in the orphanage.. it’s hard to watch how the children are cared for, but, as Francie reminded me, it’s better than the alternative, and that is 100% true. These kids have food in their bellies and a bed to sleep in every day/night. It’s just hard not to compare to the American way of caring for children, but, I suppose there are a great number of children who would probably be cared for better in this orphanage than in some American homes as well.. There is a definite language barrier with some of the older children, but, I try my best. (And being able to pick them up and play with them helps cross that). I forgot to mention there is one mentally handicapped child at Angel’s Home, Cubi. He is a pretty funny little guy; his stim is throwing items on roofs, which is unfortunate since they already have a lack of items.. as you look up you see shoes, food, toys, and some clothes are stranded on the tops of the roofs.. I will give my little spiel about life regarding the orphanage after I tell you about the rest of my past two days.

Sadly, upon returning home after lunch on Monday, I found that a large amount of money was stolen from me at the orphanage. I’m thankful they left my camera and passport and things though. I thought it would be safe to keep my bag in the babies room, hanging on a hook, but I guess not. Francie was very distraught upon hearing this because she never keeps track of her money supposedly, so I really hope they haven’t stolen from her considering how much she’s given them. We spoke w/ the only English-speaking nun there and she reported back that there has sadly been an issue with this but they can’t figure out which matron it is :\ But, it’s alright. Hopefully they needed that money and won’t use it for negative purposes.

The 4^th German volunteer came back with his family members, so, that has been nice to get to know them all—although the entire group is German, they all speak pretty good English.. they try their best to communicate in English, but, often revert back to their native tongue. I am perfectly okay with it though, it’s nice just to have company : ) I’ve been really testing my taste buds/texture problem here in Rulenge! I’ve been eating cooked vegetables like it’s my job, and not even the ones I like! I also had a tomato salad today, made by Severin’s family, which was absolutely delicious. No, this does not mean I’ll try ketchup upon returning home, but, maybe I will be a little more adventurous with veggies!

Today Marcel took me to the Hosptial; We toured and then went to the CTC (clinic and treatment control) where he works. CTC is for HIV/AIDS patients. Marcel tested many while I was there this morning, thankfully all were negative. After that, many men, women, and children came for the free clinic there. They were weighed and measured and had a discussion about further treatment and helpful tips for living with HIV/AIDS. It was definitely sad and difficult, but I’m proud of the hospital for offering so many free things for these people—it helps spread awareness and there is no fear of payment for being tested.

Tomorrow I will be up at 6 AM to go to the Missionaries of Charity for the day, a priest here says mass at 6:30 (IN ENGLISH! YAAAAY!) and then I will help them probably until lunch. To say I’m excited would be a major understatement.

To try and sum up my experiences here in a short blog is almost impossible. But, today, an analogy struck me whilst playing with the children. I don’t believe there is a name for it.. but, when you pick up a child and spin them around and around and around until you’re both dizzy? Well, I did that with many of the older children in the orphanage the past two days, and what hit me most was the way Cubi reacted to it. Every.single.time he would close his eyes and get the most peaceful look on his face, like all was right in the world for those 20 seconds. In the movie, Uptown Girls, the babysitter takes the child to the place she escaped her fears and troubles most often:  the tea cups at Coney Island—it was easy for her to experience the euphoria of the spinning rather than focusing on the painful circumstances in front of her. I don’t know what Cubi was thinking, or even if he was thinking at all. But, maybe that is the beauty I saw in it. For that moment, he was free. Free of not only the poor conditions of the orphanage and the crappy same food day in and day out, but free from his mind, from being entrapped in a place where you can’t explain yourself to anyone or properly express emotions, free from being different and out casted. As I mentioned in my earlier blogs, I’m not doing anything fantastic here, probably not even succeeding in the American terminology.. But, these past two days, I’ve given Cubi (and some of the other children) 20 seconds of freedom.. and several times at that.  What joy I encountered through them. It made me ponder what aspects of my life do I need to be spun out of? What areas make me so upset, sad, uncomfortable that I need to be free of them, even if only for a little? One of my best friends, Christine, knows just about everything about me, and once suggested that I am a runner. Ha, no, not by physical movement, but with my emotions. I run from others before I get hurt because it’s happened too often. Since she’s said that, I’ve tried my best not to run. I’ve also established friendships where their patience with my unsteady heart is incredible. But, when those circumstances arrive, I’ve tried to stay still, in the moment and in the hurt, to grasp the reality of the situation and improve myself from it. But, I can fully admit that I ran here to Africa. I bolted actually. I ran to the desire of serving the Church and away from the frightening reality of graduating college and not having a clue what I really want to be. I ran here and I truly believe it’s one of the best things I’ve ever done. I know myself better than I ever have and I know what aspects of my life need picked up and spun for 20 seconds until I get a better grip and upon returning to America, I want to be sure I apply this lesson that Cubi so graciously taught me. Life sucks sometimes and we can’t control the hand we’re dealt, but, if we can take just that 20 seconds, to regroup and find joy amidst the struggle, we just might be alright.

Amani Salama [Keep the peace/Have peace/Remain in peace]

Just Do It.

I write to you before bathing tonight, and although the smell of goat, pine trees, and sour baby urine are currently flooding my nostrils.. blogging somehow seems more important right now. I have so much to write, but I’ll try my best to keep it short-ish.

Yesterday (Saturday) I left Biharamulo around 4 PM, although it was originally planned for 11 AM.. Africa knows no time constraints.. Anywho, saying good-bye to Prosco was rough and I think she had it even harder. (She’s called three times and texted even more than that since I’ve been gone..) I gave her my red suitcase, filled with medical supplies, sheets, clothes in abudance, the cards that she loved so dearly and other such things. I know she will give most of it away, and that’s alright—as long as they’re being used! The trip here was one of the most uncomfortable experiences I’ve ever had. I was sandwhiched between a very large nun and a male university student in the back of a very small truck, holding onto my backpack, pillow, and purse. (Not to be rude, but, these folks were also typical Africans and do not use deordant..) So, the 3 ½ hour trip seemed to take about 7 in my head.

However, I got here and although nervous (Fr. Ignas, the only person I know here is leaving for the entire week for a retreat) at first, I had high hopes that this is exactly where I was meant to be.  I am staying at Fr. Ignas’s house alone.. which is a little intimidating.. but it’s a beautiful place, so I’m thankful for that.

Today started out with an almost three hour long mass, which was rough (first time going to mass alone!) then I met Fr. Ignas after and he showed me around the compound I’ll be staying at and to the orphanage. I heard that the MOC’s (Missionaries of Charity) had a house around here and he also took me there! A massive orphanage and elderly women’s home. I only met with one sister, Sr. Lily, but that same joy I had 3 years ago working with them in Naples, Italy returned almost immeditaley. I don’t feel called to their order (a little too intense for me!) but holy smokes, do they make me feel all warm inside. I can’t explain the happiness that overtakes me when I see their Sauri’s and the smiles upon their faces.  I guess it’s because they I see them, I see Mother Teresa. Their love exudes from their pores and that’s honestly all I want to do in life—love until it hurts. All I did there was have a quick tour and most of the children were taking a nap.. and then we returned home. There are 5 German volunteers that have been here for almost a year working in Rulenge. I met 3 of them after the tour.. the other 2 are not in town right now. There is also another white person here, Paul, who is about 70 years old and as wiry as they come! He’s hilarious. From Australia and doesn’t plan to return. He informed me his will states ‘bury me in the country I die in’ so he would like to die here in Tanzania—he’s a hoot, but, I’m also excited to reach into his obvious wealth of knowledge and passion for mission.

I’m not sure how to possibly explain the rest of my day or the joy that is currently residing upon my heart. Franchesa took me to the orphanage in the afternoon, which was both difficult and amazing at the same time. The babies are fed, washed, and changed but then placed right back into their cribs.. as terrible as this sounds, they just don’t have enough hands to watch the other 20+ children, feed, wash and clothe them while holding little babies.. even tied to their back! (like most African women do). I, however, couldn’t muster to put down my little boy (Baracka, hopefully not named after our president..) who had an IV in his head after washing and changing him. He reminded me too much of Riley when she was so little with her IV, that I held him the rest of the 3 hours we were there. Franchesa then took me back to their house and I just socialized with the three of them (Franchesa, Marcel, and Kati). Marcel and I spoke the most and actually got into some deep conversations.. he told me about the loss of his father to cancer, we spoke faith conversation, life in general, etc. We found many common interests and similarities throughout our time together.. for one thing, they know where Gaming, Austria is and have been there!! No one, not even native Germans/Austrians that I’ve met have heard of the little village that I was blessed enough to spend 4 months studying abroad in 2010.. but they have! And know the campus! Small world or what? There is so much else I want to share with you, but, I just can’t.. AH! 

I wrote a few blogs ago about how you become a person through other people. I worried on the way here and earlier today that I would again have a severe lack of human interaction and I was confused on why the Lord felt the need to work on my introvertedness and solidarity again when I felt that my senior year of college was pretty stacked with that lesson. All he needed was my ‘yes’. Yes, I will endure my struggle with loneliness againnn here on this mission to fulfill this passion of working in an African orphanage. I mustered up the guts to say to myself, it’s just a week, Erin! You can do this. And as soon as he got my yes, during the 45 minute announcements before the closing of mass today ugh, he said thanks but no thanks—new plan: here’s some awesome comradery for you to have this week, kids your own age, struggling with the same things, and you can serve with them. Go. I couldn’t be more thankful. Mission trips in and of themselves have always benefited me in one way or another.. but there is something special about serving WITH someone else. Franchesa and I will be in the orphanage at least tomorrow, I’m planning on going to the hospital with Marcel on Tuesday and Kati has plans for Thursday already. We will not only share the load of the service, but our hearts to one another and what a beautiful thing to do in my last full week here in Africa. When I emailed my mom about this she said it’s too bad you couldn’t have been here longer. But, it’s not. There’s a reason I’m only here for a week. I needed to learn and experience what I did in my hardships at St. Severine and now I am here, serving who I’ve wanted to for years, and in excellent company. I again am so thankful. So, my little tip in this blog to apply to your life and I shall steal it from Nike: Just Do It. God has asked me to do some crazy, difficult, and seemingly impossible things in my life at 21 (almost 22!) and I have not always said yes.. but, I did to this trip, and I did to what I thought would be a very difficult week alone. Give that yes and who knows what can become of it!

the glass remains half full

Sad news to report: I'm not feeling well; I had to leave Fr.'s party early last night and I still felt crummy this morning, so I didn't feel comfortable going to the Ordination (where there isn't a toilet in sight). Bummer. I hope resting today helps so that I am fine to travel tomorrow.

Although I felt pretty wretched yesterday, even my shoulder has been troubling me, I was able to give one of my rosaries to Rhoda, the 4 yr. old with sickle cell and her face was worth any sickness I'll have the whole time I'm here. It's the little things that mean the most :)
At Father's birthday party, many came to celebrate, but most only spoke Swahili. His priest friends can, but they all wanted to socialize together and I wasn't going to bog Fr. down on his birthday! Let him celebrate the Swahili/Tanzania way! So, instead, I played with Paula, Cassie, and Lucas all night and that was very enjoyable, but again, draining. I purchased $18 worth of clothes for my brother, Lucas, because he wears mostly his sisters hand-me-downs.. That is a lot of money here (30,000 shillings), but, if you would have seen how much I got, you'd be amazed. I think about 8-9 shirts, 2 baby boxer things that go over their cloth diapers here, 5 pairs of pants/shorts, and a hoodie! Now, the quality isn't the same we'd expect our kids to have in America, but, still! I was pretty excited about that all!

During my rest/nap today, I had a dream about my great-aunt who passed away many years ago, Sr. Cornelia. She and I were very close while she lived in Altoona and my mom and Gram went over to see her when her and her sister, Sr. Clementine, moved into their retirement home in Greensburg. She was always very proud of the person I was becoming, even though she passed when I believe I was only 14? maybe 15.. Regardless, she was here in Tanzania with me and didn't say anything, we just walked and I showed her around. In the end, Riley was there and Sr. just lit up. I can't recall if she ever met Ri, but I don't think so. Upon waking, it really gave me a sense of her support and encouragement, even from heaven and I needed that today. (If she didn't go straight to heaven, then there is no such place, because that beautiful woman endured such turbulent suffering on earth, she wouldn't have needed purgatory.) Thank you to everyone for your emails, fb comments, or inboxes; it truly does put a little gas in my tank when I'm feeling empty.

Pax.

It means no worries.

Hello again, readers. How goes it?

After posting my rant-ful blog earlier this week, I decided to keep this one short, sweet, and to the point. The day I wrote that, I met Vume (my old housekeeper at Fr. Simon's) in town and she assisted me with buying some things and we grabbed a pop. She told me it'd be quite silly to walk back with my backpack full of so many items (it's a 38 minute walk from my house to the heart of town) during the middle of the afternoon, so, she asked me to defy Fr. Simon's wishes and ride a motorcycle (they're cheap taxis) home. I was actually quite scared; if you saw these roads, you'd know why. None are paved, barely any are flat.. I'm not just talking about ditches, I'm talking crevices and boulders. But, I did.. and boy was it a rush! Girls are supposed to ride side-saddle but Vume wanted to make sure all was well, so she rode, too--forcing the 3 rider-man-style. I put my arms around some African dude, who smiled a bit too much for my liking, and we were off! It was very exciting and something I'll never forget.

Later that evening, I met up with Fr. Simon and friends at a restaurant/bar. [If you do not want to hear very personal-Erin-type-humor/bodily functions, I'd skip this paragraph..] I had been recovering from some severe dehydration from frequency at the bathroom if you're catching my drift.. I took some Immodium so that I wouldn't have to use the public facilities.. but.. we were there just a little too long.. Let me try and describe these toilets for you. There's a door and you go in.. and then there's.. a hole! A nice ceramic tile lays the area around the hole.. but it is indeed, just a hole. I've peed in manyyy since I've been here, but never anything else due to uncomfortableness.. but I reached my breaking point that night! But, to say the least, I felt very African afterward and proud of myself! (I thankfully always carry tp on me.. or that could have been disastrous because they don't supply any)

I posted the title of this blog from the beloved Disney movie, The Lion King because, although it is in Swahili in the movie.. he phrase Hakuna Matata should really be tattooed on everyone's foreheads here. That's what they live by first and foremost. I desire this African simplicity as I've said before, but some of my American tendencies just won't back down. Today, on my last day at St. Severin's, which everyone knew about.. they cancelled classes. I had something really great (and expensive.. I bought all the items here and it cost me for being white and buying them) planned for all my classes and they just cancel them.. no worries, my hiney! I'm bummed! But, what can you do? I returned home to try and shake off my feelings, talked to a friend for a little before she went to sleep in America, and took a nap myself. I woke feeling rejuvenated and thought maybe I'll at least go and see if any students would wanna participate (since they live there, they can't really escape me.. ) They were mostly unavailable at this time since it's close to lunch but I spoke with Sr. Amelia, who just came back from a week-long retreat and then after proceeded to go home.. As I was walking home, a little girl came running after me, crying that I was already leaving. She then apologized profusely for her class' actions the day before (one of my class 3's stole a box of crayons and 2 things of Play-Doh, they were returned, but, it was disappointing) and I just melted. I promised her I'd come back after lunch for the special activity for any kids that wanted to and that I'd come back in my few days in Biharamulo before returning to the States. That really eased my tensions about the day, although I did feel bad that she felt so bad!

Only two weeks til I'm back in the US! I can't believe it. (and my birthday is in 12 days, but who's counting?)

Be who you are and be that well. -St. Francis de Sales

“The most powerful weapon on earth is the human soul on fire.” –Marshal Ferdinand Foch

I recently found this quote on one of the chapter headings of the novel I’m currently reading: CIA and espionage-type  book, quite exciting! It’s also helped my mind stay focused on other things these past few days, which has been really nice. I will explain some of the details of the past few days, but first, a rant by yours truly.

One of the things I’ve learned to a greater degree in my time here is that in passion, there is strength. This trip only worked out because I was so incredibly passionate about serving as a missionary in Africa. I’ve wanted to do so since I truly felt the presence of God in about 8^th grade and then after my first mission trip with my dad to the mountains of West Virginia, following my high school graduation. I was hooked. I am now at a very odd stage in life: I’m assuming most of you reading have been here, but I’ll explain. I just graduated from college, I’ve moved back home, but instead of readjusting to life under my parents roof as most post-grads, I’ve moved to Africa for the summer.  Bizzare? Yes. Doable? Hopefully. Scary? Indeed. While friends and classmates stressed over interviews and resumes, I laid back and watched gracious people like yourselves donate to my cause, because the only thing on my mind since January has been this mission. I knew I had a job at home and that would be okay until this passion, I’m trying to talk to you about, took over. I can be an enigma; I know that. If you know my parents, you’d understand why. My father, a silent rock of strength, smarter than most holding a PHD, and humorous in his own little way and my mother, loud, emotional, full of all motherly components, and with a heart the size of Texas (yes, that was for you, Jessica Haning) created me; a very good mix between. I become lazy when I’m not passionate. I lost my strong passion for playing basketball after repeated injuries. I lost my strong passion for the healthcare field after a semester of nursing. And, to be brutally honest with you readers, I lost my strong passion for the Lord after a really terrible year and a half. But, this little light of serving in Africa has never faltered. I am truly passionate about being here and I believe others saw that, that’s how I was able to come. I am still hoping that in my time here would reestablish my passion because without it, I am blank. The Lord is patient with me, I know that, and I am thankful to Him every day for instilling this passion for serving His Church and especially for this time here in Tanzania. Mother Teresa didn’t feel consolation from the Lord for yeeears and she served every day of her life and is now on her way to canonization.. so, I’m not too worried!

I just got word that I didn't get the big-kid job and although I’m a little bummed, I’m okay with it because I wasn't passionate about it. Most people focus on money in their careers and I understand that that is important; what I have learned in this month, more than anything, is that if I am passionate about something, all will be okay. I might not be the happiest, I might not be wealthy, I might not leave my name on any walls or plaques or buildings, I might not even be deemed successful—but I’ll be passionate. I wouldn’t call my mission 'successful' so far, I surely haven’t been happy the entire time, and I’ll be mostly broke by the time I come home.. but, I am passionate and that gives me a personal satisfaction that I cannot describe to you. I know I’m saying a lot of the same thing, but the simple things are what I’m being drilled on here and if you can grasp even a glimpse of the beauty of living a more simple life, I promise you that you will not only be more happy with your life, but you’ll be more passionate! As I’ve mentioned earlier, I don’t know what is in store for me, but I will look further into the passions that make me tick and I am confident I will find the place where I am fulfilled. 

This all really occurred to me this weekend/week because it’s been tough. Class two teachers have asked me not to teach anymore because they don’t think the kids are understanding me well enough, although the children haven’t said anything. This cut my classes in half. Then, all afternoon classes have been cancelled until the 20^th (Class 7 graduation) because they are practicing for it. This, too, cuts out many of my classes. So, many days, I have been very bored. No classes to teach, no kids to interact with.. just me and my brain (aka why you’re getting this rant!). But, I know there is a purpose in it all. I went to school on Friday and all classes were actually cancelled, so, I had got up for nothing.. but, the smallest child they have boarding there, Rhoda, came up to me and held my hand during the morning prayer and she wouldn’t let go. (She speaks no English, she is only 4) Her finger was bleeding, so, after the prayers, I pulled one of my Despicable Me band-aids from my backpack and placed it on her. Her face lit up like a Christmas tree. She left soon there after and I learned the next day that Rhoda has sickle-cell anemia. The life expectancy for someone w/ that disease in America is 43, so, I’m sure here.. it is at least cut in half, if not more. (Their average life expectancy here regularly is 45 for men and 48 for women, can you believe that?) So, it’s the little things, people. It’s giving Rhoda a band-aid and knowing that that simple act might have made her day.. and considering her days are sadly numbered, then I did my job that day. My passion was fulfilled. At mass on Sunday, I went here at school for the first time, and during the offertory, she saw me and ran up to me to hold my hand again, only for a little bit.. and there, still holding onto her little thumb, was the band-aid. I was not happy these past few days, I didn’t leave my name anywhere to be recognized, and I surely wasn’t successful..But, I loved Rhoda in the most simply passionate way I could. And that was enough.

I’ve thought about the passion I have for my sister while here almost on the daily. I run those lines from Horton Hatches an Egg through my head so often because it brings such comfort: “My goodness, my gracious, they shouted, my word! It's something brand new, It’s an elephant bird! And it should be, it should be, it should be like that, cus Horton was faithful, he sat and he sat. He meant what he said and he said what he meant, an elephant's faithful one hundred percent." (you should really read that book right now if you haven't already) My family took on a passion in fostering and adopting that precious little girl. I cannot explain the way that my blood still boils when I think about the suffering she’s endured. I am passionately in love with her and that passion would drive me to do just about anything for her. I know many families say that, especially those in Italian descent, but I wish you could grasp the passion I have for my Riley Bernadette. She has changed my life and through her, I’ve rearranged many of my own passions and realized what is truly important in life. I hope that someday she’ll grasp that I would not be the person I am today without her.

Rant over!

Otherwise this week, I’ve had my hair done at an African salon.. It took 4 hours and 3 bags of fake hair to create the African dreads I have upon my head. They are very heavy and sadly already starting to fall out, but it’s nice to not have to worry about how my hair looks considering my lack of running water here.  They aren’t like the dreads we see in America or ‘rasta’ dreads as they are called, but, moreso just thick braids all around my head that I’ve pulled up into a bun/ponytail/mess hahaha

I met with Fr. Simon yesterday to discuss plans for the rest of my time here-just a pinch over two weeks, can you believe it? Won’t you miss my ranting-blogging-ways?! There is an ordination for a priest here in town on Friday and it is a very big deal. Many priests from all over will be here and Fr. said he will arrange for a ride for me on Saturday morning to go to Rulenge for the week to serve at the orphanage. I will be staying with a priest friend of his, who actually picked me up from the airport with Fr.; his name is Fr. Ignus. The orphanage has 3 or 4 European post-grad helpers, too, so that will be nice to have some community and socialization for a week! They do have a lot of hands for helping right now though, so, I hope to also visit the Missionaries of Charity’s orphanage just about 3 miles from there. I’ve never encountered such joy as I did when working with them in Italy in 2010. I will stay there until July 20^th, so, one week total, and then return here to Biharamulo and stay back at Fr. Simon’s to go around and say all my good-byes. I was thankful that he suggested that so I can have time to say good-bye to all those I became close to, especially Boniface, Mama Bonita and their family. He also wanted me to be among friends for my birthday which is on the 23^rd! I also appreciate that! African birthday celebration; bring it on! Father’s birthday is this Thursday, so I will be having two celebrations back to back with that and the ordination!

It’ll hopefully be a little bit of a busier two weeks until I am on a plane back to America. I imagine the time will fly. I can’t imagine the time that it will take to grasp all of the things I’ve seen, experienced, and learned here. It will probably be a hard adjustment back to home.. I’ve not only just moved back from college, but, now I also have this experience on top of all that. Be patient, parents, as I am most definitely 'under construction.'

Oh boy, this was much longer than I intended.. I guess I did inherit the ‘talker’ gene from my mother.. I hope that this blog has tickled some passion inside of you. I don’t care if it’s something ridiculous like going to Tanzania with a priest you only met for a week, or something simple like finding more time for appreciating art. Follow that little spark inside you as far as you can, even if you’re an older adult—you can still do it! I believe that discovering your passions in life can make you a much more content person; I’ve lived out one of my greatest passions here in Tanzania, and I cannot wait to discover the other passions I have still buried within me.