Watch the Walk

The farmer tore up the receipt and threw it on the ground. Sheo dug into his backpack, pulled out a fold of bills, and took the biggest bill out of the wad. He forced it into the farmer's hand, declaring loudly for all to hear, "Let the record stand that I have never stolen anything and I have never cheated anyone!" He stormed off, still fuming as he strode down the trail. What was it all about? We wanted to visit the island's only lake. And the farmers had decided that we needed to pay 5 euros each to visit. Five euros? To walk up the path all the farmers take to go to their fields and sit by the lake? And wait, they're only charging the white people? We suggested an alternate price that was more in keeping with local customs. They laughed, "That's what students pay!" Interesting that now they're saying that students pay, when before they said it was only white people who had to pay. We went up next to the lake and discus...

I don't often go to the beach. Sometimes it's just too much work to get there and back when all I want to do is avoid the world. But my cousin was visiting and a beach day seemed appropriate.  I stretched out in the sun, reading a book with not a care in the world. A shadow fell across my face. I looked up at a young teenage boy who evidently wanted to speak with me. But he only wanted to speak French, no matter how many times I asked him to switch to the island language. He had only one speed-- fast-- and only one grammar style-- bad. Why did we have to talk, anyway? I had a book and was trying to get some sun. He had a soccer ball and was wanting to play soccer. Oh. Duh. He wants to play soccer. And I'm in the middle of the beach. Sigh. So I moved. They set up their goalposts and started their game. I resigned myself to sitting in the shade again. And such is life here. The beach isn't mine, it's ours. And the sooner I realize that, the faster I move f...

A little boy who will grow up One teenager entered my house, followed by eight young boys, aged 7-10. They had a happy energy as they swarmed the table and requested water.  "We heard there was a fight after the soccer game, so we went to go beat up some people from M-town." "See my weapon? I was trying to hit the other boys with it." One eight year-old grinned as he hefted the solid metal bar in his hand. I told him to give the weapon to me, setting it outside the door and informing him he could retrieve it when he left. Lemur! But then I wanted to talk with the boys about it a bit. I first addressed the weapon-wielder: "Look at your heart, my friend. You want to hit people with an iron bar because of a soccer game? If you hate other people, how can you say that you love God, who made them? Be careful, hating is easy, but Jesus says to love our enemies, not just our friends." He looked a little abashed. His friends giggled a little that ...

 A house goes up in a week. The trash is cleared from the street. A new rule is instituted in government. An alcoholic declares he doesn't want to drink anymore. What do these all have in common? Change. We all want change of some sort. Sometimes we want to change ourselves, sometimes we want to change others, and sometimes we want to change our environment, but rarely do we find ourselves in a state of perfection and surrounded by perfection. So we desire change. House hunting- a change It's not difficult to change things for a short amount of time. You start an exercise routine and are faithful for a week. You convince your housemate that they need to wash their dishes and they do that for a week. You clean up the neighborhood with all your neighbors and it stays clean for... well... less than a week. Because long-term change is hard. Babies change But we still want change. We want heart change. We believe that the best changes start with th...

Just like Americans, islanders vary when it comes to their experience with other cultures and understanding the differences between places in the world. During a class on "hospitality and hosting" recently, we were talking about what it means to be a good host in local culture and what it means to be a good guest. I asked what a good host should do, and they were a little quiet, so I primed the discussion with some questions... Should the host say hello? YES!!! Should the host give their guest something to drink? YES!!! Of course! Should the host wash the guest's feet? NO!!! (with looks of confusion-- who in their right mind would do that?) We discussed some more of what it meant to host well, then moved on to being a good guest. Should the guest bring a gift? Maybe... sometimes? If there's a new baby, you should bring a gift. What sort of gift should you bring? "A live chicken!" said Sia, as the classroom burst into laughter. Sia was surp...

Sometimes figuring out new words is easy. You point, you ask for the word, they give it to you. But sometimes it's more confusing than you think it should be. Here's a sample conversation: "What's this?" (motioning to an apple in a box) "This is _________." Ok, great. You just learned the word for apple! But wait, are you sure that's what they said? Did they give you the word for apple? You asked, wanting a word for apple, but here are some other things they might have said, based on the contextual clues you gave them: "This is a fruit." "This is food." "This is something I'm eating." "This is the apple peel." "This is a box of apples." "This is something I'm selling." At the beginning of language learning, you can end up with all sorts of vocabulary that you know how to use it in its original context, but you have no idea whether it works in other situations. Is this...

It may surprise some of you to learn this, but here on Clove Island I don't have a garbage service to conveniently carry away my trash. Instead, I sort the trash into things that can decompose/compost, things that can be reused in creative ways, and burnables. So recently I decided it was time to burn trash. Now, I kinda figure that I do a decent job of using things up and repurposing items. So there's not a lot that gets burned which I would consider salvageable. Any containers have already been gifted to someone who will use them. Notebooks have been written in on every page. But somehow my burning stuff quickly became an attraction. Three kids saw the smoke and came running over. They started rummaging through the basket of burnables, grabbing and fighting over random items. Oh dear! I quickly informed them that they had to ask permission before running off with anything, and tried to assist with equitable distribution. What things did they salvage from the burning? -...