Watch the Walk

Shortly after Mitch and I got engaged in Kenya, we heard the happy news that Dj, who works with me on Book work, also got engaged, to a fellow Follower from Clove Island. She's been living on Volcano Island for a few years, so when Mitch and I returned to the islands in February, we met up for dinner to hear their story in person and to share more about our plans moving forward. Well, in the conversation, as we were talking about plans for a wedding celebration for bels in the islands, we threw out the idea of "if you're ready, we could make it a double event!" They weren't ready for that idea, acting a bit embarrassed and laughing it off. But the idea stuck. Dj's kids were showing signs of struggling with being juggled back and forth between relatives, and the pressure to get married sooner rather than later was building. At first Dj and V were talking about getting married in September. Then August, then July. Then the question was, "why n...

I remember the first time, standing in my new living room, I heard the deep voice of Josh Turner and the strains of country music coming from outside. I leaped to the window to see where the music was coming from and was shocked to discover it was coming from my neighbor's little shop. I put on a wrap and went down to check it out. "You're listening to country!" I exclaimed. He gave a gentle grin and said, "Yes, it's my favorite music." "Me too!" I grinned at him, then stood watching the music video on his computer screen as we both listened to the familiar sounds. I quickly got used to hearing him play country music at all hours of the day. Assuming the power was on, he was either playing the Quran, local pop music, or American country music. He didn't speak English, but listening to American country was definitely his happy place. I brought him baked goods and we'd chat about anything and everything. But he never showed a particular i...

  It's funny how, even though I've been in the islands for over 9 years, having new people around reminds me of what it was like to arrive in the islands, a sweaty mess who didn't understand a word of the local language. My team full of new people (8 new adults and 2 toddlers) arrived at the beginning of the hot season in 2013, excited about mangoes and samosas, less excited about the humidity and the feeling of being perpetually sweaty. We've just now welcomed a new family to Clove Island, and they're in the throes of adjustment. How do we handle the heat? What sort of food will the kids eat? What do we do with the trash? How do we create healthy rhythms of life? I've been running their orientation to language learning, working to share the vision of why we learn language, the mechanics of how we learn language, and the personal insight and self-discovery that helps in staying motivated in the language learning journey. But why do we learn the local language? E...

The other day I was on a phone call with a few people.  For two of us, the first language was English. For two of us, the first language was from Clove Island. So what language did we end up speaking together? French. Why did we end up communicating in French? Because, although three of us were fluent in English, one of us was not, and so for the sake of group communication we needed to function in a language in which none of us were native speakers. Yesterday, when we started the call, the person who doesn't speak English was late to join. So we started out in English. It being the mother tongue for two of us, and comfortable for the third, we were able to use English and have everyone at ease. But as soon as the fourth person joined the call we automatically switched languages. Why do that? Because language is a way of communicating hospitality and community. To put it another way, what are we communicating when we use a language in which only half the group is proficient? Or wha...

My student tried calling me at 3 am, but I was still asleep. I noticed the missed call, but figured I'd catch up with her later. She tried again at 10 am, and I answered. It was 8 pm for her, and she was done with her day, wanting to practice her English, so she just gave me a call to see if I was free. My time in the US looks a bit different these days than it did when I came home for my first leave in 2016. Back then, very few people had smart phones. Now my 12 year old student has access to her mom's smart phone, and WhatsApp allows her to give me a call at any time of the day or night. So I answered the phone and greeted her in English. She talked a bit, asking me about "life in America." I answered her question in part by explaining the time difference. It was a helpful illustration for me to take the phone outside and show her how it was bright and sunny for me, while on Clove Island for her it was dark and the end of the day. Then her mom wandered past and want...

Until I started running, I didn't realize how much of a mental exercise running can be. See, when running, you always have the choice of slowing down to a walk. Struggling for air? Why not just walk a bit? Muscles telling you they don't like what they're doing? Slow down and take it easy. But when I'm going for a run, I'm not going for a walk. It's not a pleasure stroll. I try to absorb the beautiful views, because I'm not going to stop or slow down to take a picture. I only started running a couple of years ago. It started out as a random curiosity: if I started running, would I like it? I found I did, and I found I enjoyed the challenge of pushing myself to conquer hills and go further distances. But I also found that I didn't feel like running every time I went out for a run. Some days I would negotiate with myself during the first mile, telling myself, "if we're not enjoying this after a mile, we'll just go home." I'd set my foc...

I'm in the middle of a set of travel right now, as I make my way from Clove Island to the US. On a call with my cousin, her son was quizzing me about my travels, so I thought it might be fun to describe my trip so far to all of you here. My first flight was from Clove to Volcano Island, where the international airport is. The flight takes all of 30 minutes, but you still have to deal with being there for check-in, for a police check, security, and then finally flying. The limits on luggage for this flight are pretty strict: 44 lbs checked and 12 lbs carry-on. Because I was traveling with more stuff this trip, a soon-to-be-priest agreed to check in together with me and made it so I didn't have to pay for having extra luggage. We ended up chatting in English while waiting for the flight, then said goodbye on arrival.  I walked out to the main road to catch a taxi into town, and the aforementioned almost-priest was exiting the airport with a friend. They offered me a ride into tow...