Dear Friends and Family,

I am writing to you today with a heavy heart and tear filled eyes while in flight thousands of miles above the earth. Due to a rapidly deteriorating situation where I was working in Mozambique, the leadership has decided to evacuate all the foreign staff and relocate us to our International office in Thailand. The former country manager who was recently let go for gross misconduct has been stirring up problems for the last several weeks. We sought to bring about an amicable resolution, but were met in turn with a list of demands that stood in stark contrast to the very heart of our work and the mission of our organization. Tuesday he served myself and the other full time volunteer with papers terminating our contracts, ordering us out within 10 days and officially severing all connection to the International Office.

False accusations brought against myself and the other full time worker, with talk of involving the police in addition to the increasing unpredictability of his actions towards us and the international office, created a potential threat to our safety so great that the International management of our organization decided the only course of action was to immediately remove us. To ensure our safe exit, we were prohibited from informing any one of our departure, were limited in what we could take with us and given just 24 hours notice. Thus I have walked out on all my friends and the life I have built over the course of the last year without being able to offer a proper goodbye.

I am shattered. I rung my best friend after departing the country to inform her of the situation and she summed up my actions in one word, abandonment. How could I leave the country without even saying goodbye to my best friend?! She has been a godsend in what has been a truly challenging year, I have trusted her with everything else, how could I not trust her with this?! She was absolutely right. It is my deepest regret in what is easily the hardest situation I have endured thus far in my life. Her exact sentiments were echoed by the national staff who were left reeling from our abrupt departure.  Then there are the kids, the beautiful boys and girls whom I have laughed with, danced with and shared life with for the past 13 months. Children who have known more loss, hurt and difficulty in their few years then I am sure I ever will.

The two beautiful girls Chila (pronounced Sheila) and Joana whom I have been living with me for most of this year and together had formed a unique type of family filled with language barriers, culture clashes and enough teenage drama to script a TV series from. Then there were the nights filled singing Just Beiber songs, dancing to Beyonce, multi-lingual prayers at dinner, sitting on our front step with all the neighborhood children discussing life and joking around. I have abandoned them as well, without even as much as a hug goodbye. While I know the circumstances that led up to this situation and am taking every effort to express my love to them all and explain why I had to go, I know that they will all still be left with more pain then comfort, more hurt then understanding and more questions than answers. With time and God’s loving comfort, I know they will heal and move forward, but I am afraid some of the relationship which have so traumatically been severed may not. This knowledge has left me devastated.

Please hold in your thoughts and prayers those who remain in Mozambique.  That they would find comfort and understanding, even in the face of abandonment. That they would know a greater love and peace in this troubling and traumatic time.

That Chila and Joana would feel love filling them from around the world, being comforted and held in this time of sorrow and loss. That they would remember the good memories, the words of truth that have been spoken into their lives and believe in what could be. That they would strive for greatness and not be brought down by the lies others might speak to them. That they would know they were created and made beautiful with a plan and purpose being placed over their lives.

That the children at the children’s center, many of whom are orphans, would not feel orphaned again by our leaving, but instead remember that they are loved and treasured just as they are, even if we cannot remain with them.

That our national staff would be united and strengthened by this experiences, rallying up to come against those still in leadership who have developed a love a money and power over the children. That a change of heart and a shift towards transparency, honesty and accountability would truly take place. That they would know that they too are loved, treasured and valued both as co-workers and friends.

That the friends whom I have made during my time in Mozambique would understand why I could not say goodbye and that they would be comforted in this time of grieving all that was and was being hoped for. That in time all would rest in a level of understanding and forgiveness.

That the other foreign staff would be comforted, consoled and held in this time as well. We have walked away from our lives, friends and children we so dearly loved all with only a few hours notice.

Please also join with me in thought and prayer for our former country manager whose actions brought this about and those who have stood with him bringing these accusations, threats and decisions. That their eyes would be opened to the effects of their actions and the true motivations driving them. This has been traumatic for us all.

Despite our sudden withdrawal, we are still hoping to return to Mozambique and resume our work there, rising up and rebuilding together. I would like to think we could return quickly, that the necessary changes to the national management team and the association board will be made with haste, but it is too early to determine a timetable or even a probable outcome. Our international office is looking into every option for us to continue our work, but right now the current leadership in country is blocking these efforts.

Thank you for your love, your encouragement, your support, your understanding, your kind thoughts and your prayers.

Always,

Christina   ‘Nina’ 

Observations over Java

Sitting in a delightfully charming cafe and art gallery in Cambodia I cannot help but be reminded of how beautiful life is and how overwhelmingly blessed I am to be leading the life I have. 


You enter around the side and ascend to the open air balcony with vine wrapped trellises and large hanging wooden screens. Large ceilings both inside and out add to the light and airy feeling, a feeling of grandeur. Oversized dark wooden doors fold back welcoming you in as the fresh white walls and worn wood floors provide the basis for a down to earth atmosphere. Large pieces of art in muted but beautiful colors adorn the wall and a salvaged worn door against the far wall looks more like a fixture of art then a functioning furnishing. The room is completed with painted dark wood seating with cozy cushions in shades of burgundy creating inviting areas for relaxing, dining and conversation. The food and drink selection are a treat as well. 


Frequented by foreigners it is not difficult to see why so many choose to pass away the day here. 
A woman in a flowing red and white flowered dress sits straight and poised as her fingers click fervently on her small travel sized laptop. 
A more seasoned woman sits in a bright blue top and crisp white skirt at the table behind her also engaged in whatever is being displayed on the screen in front of her but with less determination. 
A mixed group of loud foreigners stopped in briefly for lunch, but they have gone and the soft jazzy notes are all that can be heard now. 

Sad Eyes

That is what I feel I have right now, sad eyes.

Sad eyes that have been forced to face the hard reality of life in this beautiful place.
Sad eyes that see the injustice even when it slips by the sight of others.
Sad eyes that are left questioning why.

Sad eyes often make for a sad heart.

A sad heart that wants to fight and scream, insisting that there is more to be done.
A sad heart that feels to deeply the lack of hope in the air.
A sad heart that wishes there was equality in the world. 

Today's Forecast

Coke, Good to the Last Drop!

Baby Cristiano

Dusk was settling in after what had already been a full day when I commotion by the back gate caught my attention. Walking up I saw a large group of our kids peering over one another trying to catch a glimpse of something at the edge of our property. It was a woman who was crouched down on the side of the road facing the remnants of our barbed wire fence. My thoughts immediately raced to what could have left her in this state, was she hurt, was she sick? I questioned the kids for answers in broken (local language) and started to gather from their answers that she was giving birth. I couldn't understand from the kids if the baby had actually come or if it was going to come.

Not quite sure what to do, but not wanting the woman to be alone I walked out and called for the kids to get an adult. An older local woman also came forward to garnish privacy and support. I would love to say that I swooped in and saved the day, but really I was simply there, and humbled to be allowed to witness the birth of a child. The mother was stoic, not a sound was uttered during the entire process.  The baby was small and quiet as well. At one point I wondered if it was even alive, but then came the smallest of cries.
Being just down the road from the hospital we weighed the options of how best to relocate both mom and baby. It was finally decided to wait for the medics to come to the scene. Time stood still, as it seems to here when one is waiting for medical attention.

The birthing process finished, the baby was wrapped in a borrowed kapalana (piece of fabric traditionally worn by women as a skirt) and began his lifetime of waiting just like the rest of us.
When the medics finally arrived, one of my friends was among them and recommended to the mother that they should name the child after me. Discovering it was a boy it was decided that my name wouldn't work and instead I was asked to form a variation. I chose Cristiano perhaps as much for the similarity to my name as for the world renown footballer.

Bidding fair well and wishing blessings, I watched as new baby and tired mom were helped into the back of the ambulance. It was an extraordinary night and a moment which will always be remembered.

I wasn't sure if I would ever see them again or if they had actually decided to name him after me. A few days later though I had my answer when mom and newborn arrived on my doorstep. The ninth child in what is evidently a full family I half wondered if I might have accidently adopted the child, but think instead I may have become a surrogate Auntie. I shared a small conversation with the mom in my sad excuse for the local language and was delighted to be able to hold the only few day old bundle of joy. I still don't think I am over how small his hands and feet were. He couldn't have weighed more than 6 lbs. After a short visit and a blessing of fruit, mom and baby were off. Promising to return again, but with no clear time frame.

The baby was name Cristiano. I will happily be his Auntie should we ever meet again.

Does the 10 second rule still apply in Africa?

Eating popcorn while writing up a report, two pieces slipped from my hand and hit the floor.

Too eat or not to eat, that is the question.

The case against eating:
- There is dirt on the floor
- It would be a bit gross

The case for eating:
- It's popcorn
- The floor was washed this morning
- I already saw an ant crawling in the bowl, so at this point what is a little dirt?
- Two pieces are a lot to lose. (I was only given a handful)
- It would be a waste of food
- It's popcorn!

The evidence is clear.
I ate the popcorn.
A little extra organic material never hurt anyone... hopefully.

Photo Booth

For those of you not familiar with Mac computers, they all come with a fun little photo program called Photo Booth where you can not only take pictures with your computer, but also add fun effects. Here is a snapshot of what happens when kids discover this wonder. Enjoy!

Flight Risk

Remaining in the US for the past 16 months my friends have known me as one thing in particular: a flight risk.

In fact, shortly after returning to the US I made a trip across the Canadian border and was instantly met with comments about how I just returned home only to leave again. What can I say, I love discovering new places and cultures! (not to mention traveling)

I am officially on the road again though, making my way to India and then on to southern Africa where I will be residing for the foreseeable future.

Bitterness

I am bitter today.

Bitter like my unsweetened regular iced mocha from what is quickly becoming my least favorite nearby coffee shop.

I am also sick.

I am sick and I am bitter. This is not a good combination.

My day did not start out this way. In fact, my day started fairly well.

It’s a Wednesday, which means it’s a late workday and a day, according to ‘my plan,’ where I am supposed to be able to get a lot done. I love plans. They are like lists, only better. 

I truly had great intentions for this day. For my 8.5 hours of freedom before needing to walk to work. I was going to wake up early (nevermind how late I went to bed), don my running attire and jog across the bridge and back. This applause worthy feat would have then been followed up by a phenomenally healthy breakfast of a vegi filled omelet.  A whirlwind, but through cleaning of the kitchen, my room and the house.  Then a focused time of class prep and exam writing, because I AM a teacher, and that is what all good teachers do. HA! If only intentions were truly enough.

Watching my alarm go off at a bright and sunny 6am (why I wake up just minutes before my alarm, I will never understand), I decided that a better use of my time would be to roll over and sleep for a few more minutes, then get up and act upon my glorious intentions. Ignoring your alarm never goes as well as you hope. One day I will learn this lesson. An hour and a half later I rolled back over, slipping my eyes up above the covers to peer out to the unfriendly black digits on my rugged travel clock.

7:32.

In junior high and actually most of high school, I had this weird thing about getting out of bed at a time that wasn’t a multiple of five. 7:32 is definitely not a multiple of five and therefore, not an acceptable time to climb out of bed. That, and the knowledge that I didn’t have to be anywhere until 4 o’clock in the afternoon, kept me in bed from another hour and a half as I drifted in and out of reality.

8:58. The phone rang. It was my novio calling to say good morning and goodbye nearly all in the same breath. He is out on a ship for a week and this will be the last time I hear his voice until he gets home.

Starring up at the ceiling I counted down the hours between work and now, deciding that 6 hours was still PLENTY of time to accomplish the GREATNESS that was my revamped ‘plans’. Have I mentioned that I enjoy plans. Plans are Glorious! Like ice cream, only not so sweet or sticky.

Did I mention that I am tired.

It might also be advantageous for you to know that I read a good portion of the book Blue Like Jazz this morning over my delayed, but still quite nutritious vegetable omelet. I think I have picked up a bit of his writing style. Right now it just seems to fit.

I washed the small mountain of dishes that accumulated in the kitchen sink. Cooked breakfast. Washed the new dirty dishes that I had created. Picked up, sorted and folded all of the clothes lying around my room. I signed and sealed my taxes for the IRS. I actually accomplished quite a lot today.

What I didn’t complete though, was the exam for my class today. Not that the exam needed to be finished by today. More that I needed to write it today so that I could figure out a way to print the thing so that it can then be approved and ready for administration on Monday.

I don’t like exams.

I left my house 2.5 hours early for work today, in the hope that by being at school I would be hit by a stroke of genius and be able to create an exam. No such luck. Arriving at school after trekking 30 minutes under the hot sun through the geographic beauty that is sand brown buildings of Bahrain, I was anything but invigorated.

I wanted to crawl under a rock and die. Slightly over dramatic, but not too far off from demonstrating the depths of exhaustion I have incurred from this illness some might call influenza.

Battling the frustratingly slow internet connection I was done. I trudged up the stairs to my classroom and slumped down into my chair exhausted. Class hasn’t even started and I am already finished. This isn’t good.

Sitting unproductively for another 15 minutes, I decided there was better use to my time. Walking down the street to get coffee.

Which brings me up to now.  Slightly less bitter.

Thanks for listening.

Ciao!