They Give Me Joy

On Sunday I went to worship at a Township. I wasn' t even sure what a Township was. Still not real clear on it. Everyone was talking about it like it was something obvious and of course everyone knew what they were. I let my chance to ask in the beginning slip by. The more they talked the less easy it was to ask what exactly was a township? I followed along in the conversations, prior to getting there, acting as if I was educated. We arrived at a gate lined with barbed wire and two men stood as gaurds against these stone doors. We showed them our Mercy Ship I.D.'s and they allowed us passage. The doors slowely opened and our land rover followed the decayed road to it's end. Small children ran around. Little ones, no older than 2, climbed walls and slipped through "no tresspassing" gates. Young girls jump roped and the boys stood on the sides observing. I stared. Cully says I stare alot. He says I always look so lost. My expression is serious and surprised. I'm unacustomed to this culture and my eyes can't help but stare at it all. I tell Cully i'm not lost.....or maybe I am, but that i'm a smalltown girl, straight from the home of my parents, blopped on this hospital ship and thrown into the african streets. He must understand why I stare.

I finally insisted on the definition of a township. I was to fake it no longer. From the scrambled explanations and sudden depated arguments that arose from my question, I got that a Township was where colored people lived during civil wars or something. I really wasn't given a clear answer. I need to read up on it.

The people welcomed us with open arms...litterly. They surrounded us as we walked in and layed their hands on us and lifted our lives and the cause of our ship up to God. They prayed for us for about ten minutes and it wasn't just one person. They all prayed outloud. I was standing beside Corinna in this cold, square shaped room with old chairs and no door to block the night's wind. I wore my belgium scarf from Lowen around my neck and later untied it, wrapping it tight around my body. African hands pressed hard on my back and words of thanks and petition came from their mouths. I was glad I signed up to go.

Before we arrived, the man that invited us to go and showed us the way, asked if he could take us to some new monuments in the town. We stopped by two. The one that specifically intrigued me was the grave of Amy Biehl. It was right outside a 'shell' gas station. A cross leaning against a black, iron rod. This man knew so much history of South Africa. He's was a born tour guide. He wasn't from South Africa but from New Zealend. He had a heart for the needy and has ended up living in a run down community of Cape Town. He explained that Amy Biehl had been murdered here in 1993. It was explained to us as being a case of a non african girl being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Amy was from California and was assisting in the development of voter registration for the country's first democratic election planned for April of 1994. August 23rd, 1993 she was driving three co-workers home, through this township, and was stopped and pulled out of the car by locals and stabbed to death. What made this event miraculous was that this girl's parents extended the hand of forgivness to their daughter's killers with these words, "Amy was drawn to South Africa as a student and she admired the vision of Nelson Mandela of a 'Rainbow Nation.' It is this vision of forgiveness and reconciliation that we have honoured." Ironically two out of the three killers have become a part of the Amy Biehl foundation. I urge you to read more on this story yourself as I have not given it the justice it rightly deserves.

My title of this blog entry, "They give me joy", referrs to an event this morning. I am overwelmed right now in my work and it's not for the reason that I was overwelmed a couple weeks ago. I have more of a handle on my job now and because of that it' s become that much more overwelming. I had accidently deleated two months worth of records and planned on this week making up my damage. Monday morning had different things in mind. My desk has many other tasks awaiting me when I walked in this morning, so I walked out for a small breather. I strolled into the kitchen to fill up my water bottle and passed a mother and her two small girls. One child hung from her hip as the other walked beside her dragging her arm accross the wall the dinning room. The mother smiled at me and said so sweetly, "good morning", as she maintained the child on her hip and the wereabouts of the walking one. There are so many mothers aboard this ship and they give me so much joy. I've decided it today. I've decided that there is not a more honourable calling then that of a mother. How inspirational these women are to me. I am so amazed by them and put to shame by them. What lack of devotion towards themselves and what care and patience these mothers possess. I love it. I stand in awe of the mother. This creature, this woman, living daily for the benefit of her offspring, her children. Instead of looking to be fed or entertain, she feeds. She entertains. for their good, not her own.

I was overwelmed this morning but the beautiful chemistry between a mother and her children, that I'm surrounded by on this ship, brought me joy.

I look forward to being one.

Standing on Solid Ground

My feet are on firm ground. I'm standing still; able to walk down stairways at my own pace, able to walk a straight line, able to sit in a still chair, able to lie on a firm bed. My stomach is no longer churning. It's no longer rising and falling with the waves. I'm on solid ground. My stomach is at rest on the shocking lands of Cape Town.

The before we arrived it was around 11:30pm and I was so drugged and had been sleeping all day. I had settled, or had tried to settle down, at the computers to write some emails. Cully walked in a bit later and asked me if I wanted to go out on the deck with him. No one felt right. Everyone was unusually uncomfortable. The deck was a place of regufe. But it was late and the medications had me very comfortable where I was. I was honest with my friend. "No, I don't want to go out on the deck."

"Okay. Will you go out on the deck with me?"

...sigh...."Sure. let me log off"

So we left the library, traveled through the academy, up the winding stairways and almost tripped over the ledge that led to the upper deck. It was pitch black. As far as the eye could see. Black. Dark. Nothing gave light. There was no land to be seen. Nothing to reflect light. We were on a ship in the middle of the Indian Ocean with not a speck of land for the human eye. No matter how hot or how warm or cold a place is, when you're sailing, it's frigid, unless you sit on the floor of the ship and get under the passing wind.

It was stone cold that night. I was numb within seconds. We leaned on the side of the ship and looked out into the blackness. We talked of work and this incredibly challenging ship life where you encounter tons of annoying people that you can't escape from no matter how hard you try, especially when your actually sailing. We talked of the priviledge, in spite of it all, that it was to be apart of it and the mystery as to how we got chosen. Poor Cully. The past couple days they had worked him through the entire nights. It was the nights before we got to Cape Town, right before tours would fill the ship and they wanted the carpets spotless. So Cully and his housekeeping co-workers cleaned carpets all night long while I slept soundly in my bed. I had wondered about his foul mood the days prior. We hadn't talked at all and honestly I was becoming quite annoyed with his attitude.

Tonight, though, standing out on this freezing deck, I understood my friend's rotten dispostion. I am so glad I went out on the deck that night. No one else was out there, which is rare. The waves roared as the ship sailed unusally fast. You couldn't see but you could hear things jumping in the distance. It was intense. Very frightening. apsolutly amazing. I had become very still. Cully asked if I was alright. "Yeah. fine"

"You sure? you arn't too cold?"

"Cold. yeah, can't feel my arms. I'm alright though, really. I like it out here."

He looked at me with a that won't do sort of face and pushed me towards the stairway that led into the ship.

The next day we arrived in Cape Town. 1pm. Exactly 48 hours since leaving East London. I was on my lunch break and had just run to the library to check my email. Computers are intensly slow here. What would normally take 2 mintues now takes 20. I was waiting as usual for the connection when I joulted forward. It felt like we had hit land. I glanced out the porthold, compleatly expecting to see miles of ocean and saw a town instead. A TOWN! For the first time in hours my eyes were witnessing a land with people walking on the ground.

I couldn't believe no one had told me or that an announcment hadn't been made. It had been the talk of the ship how neat it was to pull into a new dock, all the towns people standing there, just waiting for us. A band and the mayor - all for us. I couldn't believe I hadn't been informed.

I ran from the library, down the stairs, through the kitchen and up a few more flights of stairs until I reached top deck and pushed open the door and steped into this new Cape Town air. The entire crew had beat me to the ledge. I had to squeeze my way in - got next to Steven and looked at him annoyed that he hadn't told me.

It was incredible. I will give it few words because you will really only know the beauty of coming into an awaiting town by ship if you are on a ship with a town awaiting you. People waved. People screamed. My face, covered in unusual enthusiasm.

So we've been here for about a week and a half and I've been overwelmed once again. I am overwelmed not only with intense beauty of this city and the mass amount of things to do but by my gratitude to be on still ground. Oh, how good it is to be still. I marvel at the sweet comfort of solid ground. What a treat. I've been unwilling to express it and have taken to simply enjoying it. I miss you all not knowing though. So I tell all now. Well, never all. Just some.

The Anastasias is decked in the middle of a mountainious harbour of Cape Town. Massive mountains encircle the ship and the town buzzes with music and life. Mercyships is being advertised everywhere you go and we're practically celebrities to the locals. There's an arena down the way where different musical artists play all day on the weekends, in promotion for our ship. Good bands. Signe and I walked down town and sat down for a minute to listen to this song and didn't get up for an hour. So yes. Cape Town is a miracle. It's barely real. I'm in constant wonder at my reality. Sitting on the side deck, looking out into the lit evening town, engulfed by mountains, sky glazed in swirling pinks, listening to track 11 of coldplay will put anyone in constant wonder of their reality.

I had 2 oppertunities to go on outreach efforts. The first night I was asked by Signe to go with her and a couple others to this church during their friday night youth group. We presented Mercyships and showed a short video of our cause and Chris, a friend, gave a short sermon. On a friday about 50 kids had showed up for this youth group gathering. I was impressed. We introduced ourselves and Chris explained what each of us did on the ship. The kids split up into small groups after that and each of us went with a different small group. We shared more about the ship with our small group and answered some of their questions. It was quite an experience to be at this youth group as a "missionary", speaking to these kids who were my age, 17 and 18, about what I do and how I got here.

Just today, Corinna, Sam, Signe, and I went to a school for the disabled from 9 to 12. Corinna works for the outreach department and she was chosen to go share with this school about our cause. She's grown quite fond of Sam and I and asked us if we wouldn't mind coming along with her. The school actually asked if she could possibly bring a norwegian since they had one attending. Signe was perfect.

We met last night to brainstorm together and lay out a plan for what we would do and how we would say it. We had tea and cookies as we talked over our ideas and worked out a plan.

I had a staff meeting a 8 o'clock this morning at a coffee shop in the harbour and asked Marilyn (my boss) for a couple hours off to go with Corinna and she was more than willing to grant me my request. She's so encouraging to me. She's constantly giving me freedom and liberty and love - so good. So I left the meeting early and met Corinna in front of the ship at 9. (It's funny. at the coffee shop they serve shredded chedder cheese with your blueberry muffin. They give you a small dish of jelly and a small dish of cheese with the most scrumpcious muffin in the entire world. Oh food is unusually good here in Africa. Food is the topic of most conversations. When we're not eating, we're talking about the next time we eat. Food is ever on our minds. Constant. I love eating. They say they're won't be much in Liberia and we've all been seriously advised to pray for our water supply. It's not looking promising. So you can pray too when you think about that.) So we made it to this school. I'm really not sure why we didn't get lost. The map had been passed to each of us as we scrampled to locate streets and highways. We made it though, the whole time Corinna talking to herself..."Left. Stay on the left. stay of the left." They drive on the left here. Very scary.

This outreach was a bit more intimidating. Instead of being seated amongst a "small group" we each stood on a stage with 100 students, wearing very tidy uniforms, facing us. Sam spoke first. Introduced himself, spoke of his home and his sisters. He spoke of the bad in the world, the hurt, the broken. He spoke of a Redeemer and that admidst sorrow and sin there is a God here to redeem his own. Once again, he proved impressive. He was given a hearty applause. Signe and I took our turns, explaining our lives back home and what our home had become now that we lived on this hospital ship. We spoke of our roles aboard the Anastasias and of our joy it was to be apart. a working part. They asked us questions in the end and we mingled among them for awhile.

I was blessed and I was grateful to be in Africa at a school, sharing with these children why my ship does and how much I love being a part of it.

(i have photos but the card reader arn't working at the moment. I'll post them asap.)

Pain

I found something I wanted to share with you. So I will quickly. I endured a severe headache all night long, last night, and then God, in his providence, had me read this from my Charles Spurgen morning and evening devotional:

Faith triumphs trial...faith pulls back the mask on the face of trouble, and discovers the angel beneath. For first, the trial is not so heavy as it might have been. Second, the trouble is not so severe as we deserve to have borne and third, the affliction is not so crushing as the burden others had to carry.

...faith sees that in her worst trial, there is nothing penal; there is not a drop of God's wrath in it; it is all sent in love.

Faith says of her grief, 'This is a badge of honour, for the child must feel the rod', and then she sings of the sweet result of her sorrows, because they work her spiritual good. These light afflictions, which are but for a moment, work out for me a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory.

Then he ended with a sort of poem or song that he must have known or wrote. I'm not sure.

All I meet I find assists me

in my path to heavenly joy;

Where, though trials now attend me,

trials never more annoy.

Blest there with the weight of glory

Still the path I'll ne'er forget,

But, exulting, cry, it led me

To my blessed Savior's seat.

That was my encougment when I woke this morning. Whenever I get headaches I find myself in this awful pit of despair. I can't see out of it. I cry out to the Lord all the while, release me from this pain. release your child from this pain. Please I beg you. I beg you. The pain is an experience that removes me far from earthly possesions or longings. All I want is freedom and all I feel is trapped. Never to be freed.

It's in these moments where I loose sight of God's love and question his plan. Why would he, my maker, die on a cross for me in order to give me life and then lead me into pain? I can't understand. And yet, I am ashamed when I read Charles Spurgen's words. Where had my faith gone? The bible says that faith can move mountains. Where is my faith that my Creator knows what he is doing with his creation? Where is my faith that acknowledges that this trial was sent in love to further my spirtual good? I pray that in my trials, specifically my health trials, that I will be able to behold a faith that not only trusts my maker in his plan but that counts it a joy to suffer pain so that I may be able to catch a glimpse of what my God endured for me. ...I want to know Christ and the power of his resurrection and the fellowship of sharing in his sufferings, becoming like him in his death...

Sometimes I wonder though...why do I want to know his pain? What good will it do me to know his pain? I don't need this pain! And then when the pains over, I get my life together and collect my thoughts and come up with an answer that goes something like this:

Sienna, you want to know his pain so that you can somehow catch a glimpse of what he suffered for your sake, that you might be able to appriciate His death that much more in order to give him more glory and honour and fufill your chief end. Sienna, you want to appriciate his death so you can more fully understand that there are causes and situations worth fighting for in the name of Jesus. By His death, He gave us life. Thus life is worth fighting for since the Son of our Creator died for it. The lives of others are worth fighting for. They're souls are worth fighting for. That is what you suffer for. So that you will understand the importance of human life and it's purpse.

So I try to talk to myself. Granted, it's easier once my pain is no more. But I've gotten here and next time the pain comes, I'll be that much more equipped to stand firm. To fight the good fight.

He was despised and rejected by men, a man of sorrows, and familiar with suffering. Isaiah 53:3

She Sails

The Anastasias sailed yesterday at 1pm. We were sapposed to leave at 10am. All the East Londoners were outside waiting to see us off. Even a local school band was playing charming little songs to bid us farewell. Marilyn came into the office, "Everyone out. out now. Go to the deck, wave them all goodbye". I really like my manager.

Steven and I headed out for the deck, not without grabbing a banana in the dinning room though. Man, i didn't taste the bananas for about a week because i was slightly worried of their taste, but there excellent. Bananas and apples, my new heaven. We had made our way out to the side deck and waved here and there to the town people, eating our sweet bananas, and Steven expressing how incredibly excited he was about this sail. "We're sailing. sailing today!!!" The thought was rather exciting. Everyone kept asking me if i had sailed before. I told them i had gone skiing and tubing and that roller coasters didnt' make me sick. I'd never experienced car sickness either. The looked at me approvingly. "You'll be fine."

The captain's voice came on the speaker, "Due to engine problems, our sail will be delayed until 1 o'clcok". The fun seemed to be over. Then Steven said excitingly...

"YES! we can order McDonadly one more time. YES!!!" i laughed knowingly.

They have McDonadls here and a delivery system. Steven is obsessed with the place and i keep telling him he must watch Super Size Me. But we do order mcflurries most everyday, even had a mcflurry party the other day, in the office.









We walked back to the office and somehow word spreads rappdily on this boat because there was a line if people waiting for us, with money in hand and what they wanted at McDonalds. Nothing can be done in secret here. Nothing.

We sailed at 1pm sharp. It was extra ordinary. The towns people, that were left, waved us farewell and we waved our hands and blew kisses. Camera's flashed. Many of us, for the first time, experienced the movement of the ship beneith our feet. Until now, the ship had been compleatly still. Many times i forgot i was even on a floating vessel. We saw whales rolling in the waves, throwing their tales up and sharks jumping. I was so giddy with excitement. a whale. My eyes were looking at a real whale.

I wanted to blog about this so badly last night. But i have never felt so rotten in my life. I managed to get up to the library but right when i sat down, i read a letter i had received from my father and started crying. I wasn't homesick, no, it wasn't that. The ship had been on the water for about six hours so far and i had never know such inescapable discomfort. Once again, i'm being challanged, all to quickly, to get used to this extreme new way of life. You can' t walk a straight line. Many times, walking down corridors, i'll stagger into the wall or fall back or run forward without being able to help myself. Walking down the stairs, i find myself stuggling to lift one foot ahead of the other and then, all of the sudden, by the force of whatever wave we're going down, i'm now running down the stair. I'm holding the walls and railings to stable myself. I feel so sick. Never, in my life, have I experience motion sickness. These waves are constant though and even those who have never been sick before are falling victim to this sail.

Right now, I'm in the library, and books are falling off the shelves and my chair is rocking back and forth and I'm having to hold the desk to steady myself. Last night was miserable. Anna and Signe were very kind to me though. There cabin is beautifully cozy and warm. My cabin is as low on the ship as you can go, so it's one of the rougher ones. They had me come in their place and we lied down as Signe played Eva Cassidy and got Anna and I some crackers. Oh for those blessed moments, I am so thankful. Even though I was sick beyond my own imaginings, song filled the air. I think that was the first time I heard song from a cd player since I've been here. Everyone has walk-mans, so you can't experience music with others. It was very wonderful lying in bed with music in the air and others there to hear it also.

I wanted to blog so badly last night so everyone could pray. Please pray now though. There are many still sick and in bed. I have been in bed all day. I showed up at work at 8:40 and left at 8:42. Cristin, who I work with, threw up in her trash can and left a minute after me. The only reason I can sit here now and write is becasue the blessed nurse has drugged me very, very well. I took this wonderful drowsy pill and have been out all day. It started working around 1oam and i've been a lot better ever since. I got up at 12 to go get some lunch, then went back to my cabin and slept and got up at 5 again for dinner.

People kept suggesting that I take a motion sickness pill. I kept declining the offer. I doubted i'd get sick or that if i did, a pill would help. I was naieve though. This has been a very, very difficult 24 hours. Even now that i'm on this pill, things are a bit better, but this sail is one of the roughest they've had in awhile. This ship is old and is missing parts or parts arn't working that soften the ride. People are stumbling over themselves and holding the walls to keep from falling.

It's odd though. My body is weak. I feel very sore and dizy and light headed. No matter how much I eat, my stomach feels empty and my head feels as though it should be throbbing. I have all the symtoms of a terrible migrane. I am in the apsolute perfect scenerio for a terrible migrane. It all fits. I'm on the roaring waters of the Indian ocean, being thrown here and there and i've never been this dizy in my life and yet there is no headache. Every once in a while, i'll get this fleck of pain but it lasts only a second. I should have a headache right now. I should have a sivere headache. Most people, around me, do. Yet i don't. I don't understand it. I used to suffer daily, yet here, in the perfect headache conditions, my head remains clear. Mom, are you hearing this?

After dinner tonight Corinna told me i shouldn't miss the sunset while we're at sea. I didn't doubt her. The deck, though it's frigid, is a good place to avoid sea sickness. If you can get out where you see water and it's movement and know what to expect, it's not as bad. So we sat out on the side deck and watched the sun fall behind the clouds and disapear into the solid line of ocean water that laid far in the distance. It was a moment that words nor image could provide justice to, but are only captured, in it's pure justice, by the human eye.

So we're off to Cape Town. This sail isn't very long, only about 40 hours. The sail to Liberia, in four weeks, is going to be a 10 day sail. Please pray, this night, for the crew members of the Anastasias. Many are sick. I ask you also to now begin praying for our two week sail to Liberia. I can handle this 4o hours. All the while I'm sick, i keep reminding myself, this time tomrrow we will be there. we will be there this time tomorrow. We won't have that reasurrance for our Liberia sail. Pray that God will make those of us that are weak, very able and will give us health and stability during that sail. I shutter to think of sailing for 10 days. I shutter to think.

"Life Boat Stations Now. Life Boat Stations Now"

Yesterday morning we had another fire drill. The alarm began screaming as the captain's voice came on the speaker, "This is a drill. Everyone to their muster stations now. This is a drill. This is a drill". I think it funny how whenever we have one of those, the captain always comes on reminding us that this is a drill. Maybe it's to avoid panic. But we'll always know weather it's real or not. The entire ship began to hustle about, everyone running franitcally to their cabins to grab their lifejackets. I got to my muster station saftely and felt ahead of the game. We had had meetings for the past couple of days that stressed over and over to KNOW your stations before the alarm went off. I missed the plural in stations. I really, sincerely thought it was singular. The alarm sounded again all crew scattered. I was standing next to Anna and she had just been talking about how many people were confused and unprepared for this, didn't even know their stations, that people just weren't taking this seriously and i was wholeheartily agreeing. "Life Boat stations now. Life boat stations now". The captain's voice echoed in the wind, as i stood at the front of the ship.

"Life boat stations? We have to remember two stations?" i stammered to anna.

"Yes! you don't know your life boat station?"

"No, i really just thought i had to remember one number. i have no idea where i'm sapposed to be?"

This situation really wouldn't have been as stressful, except that people were running frantically about, here and there, even with the captain's voice ringing over the intercom "this is a drill. this is a drill", and i was caught it the midst of it without have the slightest knowledge of what direction to take. Anna looked at me sympathetically and dissapeared around the corner. I looked to my left and spotted a lost girl and decided to follow her. You may not think this good logic, the blind leading the blind, but i figured whatever station we showed up at we'd be in trouble together, humiliated together, instead of just singled out. So really, i was doing her a favor. Her name happened to be called though at whatever life boat station we had steped into. Her face showed a sigh of relief. I tried discreatly, tiptoeing out of the station before i heard "Is there anyone's name i didn't call?" I managed with success. I spotted Vangie, a lady i've become quite fond of. She's the bank lady and she took Signe, Steven and I to McDonadls a couple days before. She was in charge of life boat station 2 and i walked whimply over to her.

"Hey Vangie. Uh...hm, am i on that list of yours. possibly? maybe?"

"No. you're definitly not on here."

"You sure. It might be under Aubren." That line has always been my life savor. Not today.

"Nope. don't worry though. we'll tell your station that you're with us and you'll be accounted for. Just when we're finished, make sure to check what life boat station you are."

"Yes. course."

So i stood there, accounted for. It was a nice moment. I could breathe again without fearing to be told off.

Sam's name kept sounding over the intercom BY THE CAPTAIN. It was quite humerous. He obviously wasn't accounted for. "Sam Belz please report to the bridge. Sam belz, the bridge". Then ten minutes later, "Sam Belz please report to the bridge. Sam Belz, the bridge." The bridge is where the captain and all his officers are, where the big steering wheel is that guids this ship. Sam kept walking hurridly past me towards the front of the boat then hurridly towards the back. He didn't seem affected, not even intimidated that his name was the only being said over the intercom by the captain. He just seemed unable to find "the bridge". His confidence held with each direction he chose. I was laughing very hard.

The drill was very entertaining. They lowered a life boat for us so we could see what it looked like and how to get on it. I couldn't help thinking of titanic throughout the whole thing. The only ship memory i knew stained to my memory. These life boats was monsterous though. I think they're 5 or 6. They each hold about 90 people but ours held 30 and had a moter. Yes, that was exciting until i remember i wasn't at my right station. Our life boat would be rowing if we went down. ...sigh

A fun morning though. I returned to work in good spirits.

Corinna just gave me the warmest, coziest blue sweater with chinease characters on the side. We had just been talking about Brae, out on the deck watching the sun set, and she motioned for me to stay there a second while she ran off. She came back with this wonderful warm sweater and said, "It is yours." Since my sisters in china and i was just talking about how i was cold she thought this cozy sweater with chinease characters on it would be perfect.

It was.

My African Sunday

I've been meaning to blog about this past sunday...my african sunday. It's late now and i need to go to bed and wake early with the sun. We sail tomorrow, 10am. We head for Cape Town. Doesn't it sound beautiful? They say it's very touristy and pretty there. We're going to be raising awarness there, holding functions, giving tours, and recruiting crew members for about four weeks before we go into outreach. We had a fire drill yesterday bright and early. We all had to run to our muster stations and then to our life boat stations, but now without our life jackets. I really want to blog about that...i was so giddy through the whole thing..so neat to see a life boat being lowered into the ocean. But i will blog about that tomorrow. I must tell you about this african church tonight.

Sunday morning i decided to go with Sam and his roomate, David, whose from Sierra Lione, to the Cosa church, about a mile away. I was dying for the "african sunday" experience. Brae's words were in the back of my head all week, "Sienna..i envy the sunday experiences you'll have. get in an african sunday!". That must be something she misses in china. I took my sister's advice and followed Sam and David to this Cosa church where I heard there would be dancing and singing and more dancing and singing and in the end, some more dancing and singing. Sam and I were the only white people there and normally the pastor preaches in Cosa, which has this constant clicking of the tougne all throughout that language, but this sunday he preached in English. I'm not sure if it was because we were there, but i have a feeling it was.

David had been attending that church for two months, Mercy ships entire stay in East London. He had become very envolved and it was extreamly painful for him to leave. The church loved him.

They loved me too though. I am amazed at the love that poured from that church. Right when i walked in, members came running over just to put their arms around me and embrace me with warmth. A boy my age came over immediately to greet me with a hug and welcome me with kind words. I found out later on that he was actually a visitor also. It was his first time at that church and he was already welcoming people. I couldn't get over that. They sang to us a little later while everyone in the church came up, once again, to embrace us. Somehow a mike was thrust into Sam's hand and he ended up in front of the church, expected to give some kind of mini sermon. It was quite funny. He seemed a bit surprised yet handled it very impressively. I would have walked off. He stayed. David had been upfront and was thanking the church for their kindness towards him through these last couple months and when he was done, handed the mike to Sam, who was sitting next to me in the pew. Sam's eyes got kind of big for a moment and then he swallowed and walked up to the front. He gave an impressive 60 second sermon, encouraging the people in the importance of worship and in their love towards others. He thanked them also for the love that they had shown us for the very short time we had come. Before the sermon ended they called us all up front to commission us off. The music was turned up and the dancing began. This time though there were white people up front though instead of black people. That was interesting to be the focus during a worship time. I felt slightly out of place. It didn't matter though. They led us into the back room, when the sermon was finished, where 3 different cakes were laid out for us with punch and water. We were served first and told to have as much as we wanted. They all waited till we were full before eating themselves. amazing people.

The african people have a beautifully mysterious way about them. I don't understand their love. Or maybe i do. Maybe i don't understand why most of us arn't like them. Why is this nation so this way and another so that way? These people welcome the stranger, invite them into their home, offerall they food they own and send them off with song. I'm intrigued with this culture. I'm encouraged to give more of myself for others. (which is a good thing to be encouraged by on this ship)

A family had invited our Anastasias group over for lunch after church. They wanted to send us off properly. The single mom had four children and cooked us about eight different dishes and this excellent dessert. Alot of the africans from church came over too to fellowship with us. Around five we had to get back to the ship because the people of east london were hosting a "bry"(which is a sort of barb-b-que) for the anastasias before we sailed. But before we left, there was a burst of song and the people encircled us, linking hands, and they all sang a sort of farewell song to us that was so rich in african style. Then prayer filled the room. Each one began praying their own prayer for us altogether. It was amazing, to say the least.

cockroaches and toilets

two things that arn's so pleasant. yet i must get used to them. i must get used to these new ways of life. Soon they will become ordinary and routine. Walking 4 extreamly long corridors in the middle of the night to use the bathroom and opening the door only to find cockroaches scambling from the light. big cockroaches. fat, black ones. i was told, upon arrival, that that would be the case. You don't believe it till you see it though. I let out an "OH my GOSH." while screaching and jumping up on the ledge to get out of their way. We have to step on them too so they die. That's what they tell us and so we must comply.

Here, i've learned to get use to not being able to go to the bathroom any time i'd like. For some reason, this plesant ship seems to only have about 3 or 4 bathrooms...although i know it has more, the place is huge and if your on A deck you're not going to walk the 25 minutes to C deck, just for the bathroom. You're going to wait. For 30 mintues, for an hour, for two or three. You're going to have to wait. And so you do. I'm getting used to not getting what i want, when i want it. I'm getting used to waiting for others. I'm getting use to going to my bed room around 11 but having to turn around and leave because boys and girls are watching a movie on a laptop two feet from my bed, i'm getting use to not being able to grab a cookie whenever i well please or having breakfast at whatever hour i prefer, i'm getting use to waking up at 6 or 5 or whatever hour i can in order to get my 2-minute shower time, i'm getting use to painfully slow computers and waiting 10 minutes for the next screen to come up, i'm getting use to going back to get my facewash that i accidentally left in the bathroom and it's not there or going to sign up for laundry and having to wait 3 hours to get my turn. i'm getting use to no privacy. I'm getting use to this thing we call, community living. It's fun at first, slightly burdensome now, and i'm sure only tends to get more annoying down the road. Really, i have no real problems now. It's just funny and interesting at the same time to think about what i'll have to get used to over the next year. These small things that i took for granted at home, like not having to crunch the cockroaches on the bathroom floor, i no longer have the priveldge to refrain from.

And yet it's exciting to be given new tasks and new ways of life to adapt to. I look forward to being a real life survivor.

I always think of what I pinned on my bulliton board. I found it, the other day, on a page in my notebook, that linnea had written for me to one day find.

"whatever my lot, thou has taught me to say, it is well, it is well with my soul. (belt it out like micheal w, girl!)"

I Found Something to be Saddened by.

"The times are a'changin". Bob Dylan's lyrics echo in my mind. Corinna left HR today. Wednesday was her last day. She worked in HR for her summer job on board(actually "winter" job. It's winter here in East London. Low to mid 60's. i'v been wearing light pants and jackets. quite nice) but she's normally involved in outreach when we're docked in coutries like liberia or sierra lione. She works with the children directly, in their schools. I saw a video on it. It's pretty amazing. She said i could definitly get involved, so i'm looking forward to that.

It's funny though, how sad i am. I'm sobered to see her go and i'm saddened by the loss. Corinna's not even leaving the ship and we've only been co-workers for a week but i'm so utterly annoyed that's she's gone from our department. Corinna is around 30 years old and she was waiting at the entrance when Sam, Cully, and I arrived. She wasn't even the one that would be giving us our tour, she simply knew their were going to be new crew arriving and wanted to be there to make us feel welcome. She's come from Germany and has been here for about a year. Corinna is one of those people that you love being around. I know that's cliche...i know that statment is over used. But it's very true of this woman. She's gentle, warm, giving, caring, and just holds others in high regard. Whatever bad mood i may be in at one point or another, i catch a glimpse of Corinna and it makes me smile and i want to be a better person. Even if you don't personally click with her, her presence is soothing to be around. She laughs at me alot, and if you know me, you know that too much laughing tends to get on my nearves, and yet it's pleasant coming from Corinna. When she showed me my office space, she encouraged me to make it my own and to move anything around to better suit my tastes. While she trained me, she kept reminding me that although this was her way of doing it, that i was not required to do it any one way. If i found a more efficient way or a way that simply suited me better, she urged me to feel comfortable in whatever changes i needed to make. As a result, throughout the day she made it a habit to ask me what I thought, if I had a better idea. She urged me to feel confident and encouraged my creativity. She entirely shattered any impression that this job was some small, structured box. Her humility, her love, and her godliness are characteristics in a person that one's not often given the chance to know. And yet, we're often sourrounded by these interesting people, yet we don't take the time to find out. We pass them by without taking notice. Corinna sought me out. She took the effort to make sure i not only felt comfortable but that i felt noticed and cared for. Even Sam says shes one of his favorite people. He keeps begging her to teach him German and he may have almost persuaded her. I didn't want to miss out on the deal so him and I may be taking German lessons, once a week during dinner.

I've only known Corinna 7 days. Even though the time was short, only a blink, I see the exception in her. Her distinctiveness is matchless. I know my blessing.

Now new people are coming into HR to fill empty spaces. Last week i was one of those new people. i still am. It's so annoying though. Instead of just being able to want to meet them and engage in them without a pre-supposed impression or ideal, theres this standard of Corinna that i've set all around them. They can't escape it. They're not like Corinna! They're not!, i want to shout. And i'm so offended. I'm so disappointed.

Be grateful for those interestingly and mysteriously loving people in your life. and if you don't have them, stop and look around.

engage.