Sadik and the Saga

John and Sadik*

Okay.  I'll confess.  I don't understand all of the Arabic that's going on around me during a conversation.  In reality, it's goes something like this:

Bam, ;alksdjfj;la a;lskjdf;lkja;lkjlkfjd house zxncvoiaelk,nadd eat aa;lkdjbpoiautpoit daughter a;lkdjbpoia.zmnc we go alndoiaj.dnvoaijd, yes?

At this point, I have 3 choices.  Choice #1:  I nod my head in agreement.  However, the last time I did that I had agreed to trade my daughter in marriage for 1000 camels.  Choice #2:  Stare blankly until they change the subject. Choice #3:  Ask them to repeat what they just said.

Quiet street in the morning...

All have pitfalls from unplanned nuptials to being perceived as "slow of thought" to sitting through another run at the conversation and perhaps picking up an additional 2 or 3 words.

With this in mind, I bring you today's incident.  Yes, incident.

You see, Sadik, our faithful friend and taxi driver has been telling us for weeks that his daughter (who lives in Cairo) is having a baby.  Since our conversation topics are still rather limited, I try to always ask about his family and his daughter.

"Has she had the baby yet?" I ask.

Insert another confessional note here:  This is after a two week self-imposed translation trauma when Sadik patted his stomach, said something about a doctor and trouble.  My take was a diagnosis of stomach cancer and Sadik would be rushed to Cairo for surgery.  This was NOT the story.  We later found out that he had been patting his stomach in reference to his daughter and a coming baby whom he would visit soon in Cairo.  (Sadik by the way is in fine health as far as I can tell.)

"Lissa, (not yet)" he replies.

"When is she due?" I follow up.

He then goes into a litany of discussion.  Now I will say that a lot of our local friends will purposely slow down their speech and enunciate more clearly because they know we are listening carefully.  Sadik has not adopted this practice.  In fact, his story delivery is in direct connection to his driving style.  Real fast.  Stop abruptly.  Swerve.  Real fast again.

Today was no different.  John talked to him for a while when Sadik brought up the topic of his daughter.  

"Has she had a baby yet?" I asked. 

He shakes his head no and goes into the most detail yet about her situation.  I swear he's making up new words just to keep me guessing.  How hard can this subject be?  She's expecting a baby and the baby will soon come.  Right?  Right, Sadik?  (Insert crickets chirping.)

John ran inside to pay a bill so I waited in the backseat of the taxi.  Sadik received a phone call shortly after.  He smiled broadly and told me it was his daughter.  He talked with her for a while and then handed me the phone.  (This is not an uncommon practice to greet a complete stranger on the phone by request of a friend.)

I spoke with her for a few minutes and then handed the phone back to Sadik.  John returned from his errand and also had opportunity to greet Sadik's daughter.  

We finished our running and was saying goodbye to Sadik.  I went inside while John pulled Sadik aside to get the story on his daughter.  

I peeked around the corner and saw Sadik gesturing wildly.  I laughed and went to put the groceries away.

John came in shortly after and said, "Well, I got the scoop. Finally."

He then went on to relay that Sadik's daughter has been unable to have a baby so she and her husband will be going through IVF next week.  

This is very different information from what we had derived from prior conversations.  John said that this time Sadik's charades helped with his lack of this particular vocabulary.  "Ahhhhh, glad I wasn't there for this discussion," I shivered.

We know now how to pray for Sadik and his daughter.  In this culture, if a woman is unable to have a baby within the first 2 years of marriage her husband is likely to divorce her and marry someone who can.  (It is rarely believed that the husband could be the one with the issue.)

So we continue 5 days a week, 5 hours a day in deep study of Arabic while spending our other hours living life alongside these beautiful, story-telling people.  Just pray that I somehow will I understand the right story...

Angels Unaware

A couple weeks ago, John received an email from a friend saying that his friend would be passing through our city and wondered if she could stay with us.  Without batting an eye, John agreed to host said friend.  (Are you sticking with me on this?)

Then last week John casually mentions that the cyclist should be arriving on Wednesday.  Cyclist?  What cyclist?  John says, "Oh, you know the one that is coming through on her bike tour."

No.  I'm afraid I don't remember.  We bantered back and forth until he finally admitted that it may have just been a conversation in his head rather than in real life.  Then he tosses the verbal ball back in my court and says, "It is fine, isn't it?"

I paused for a second and shrugged.  "Sure.  Why not?"  I sprang into action and began preparing the guest room with clean sheets, welcome basket, local reading and a mint on her pillow.

We gave her directions to our house and she arrived looking a bit weary, but smiling.  We introduced ourselves and took her to her room.  Kim* parked her bike and dropped her bags.  I gave her some something to drink and asked if she'd like to rest.

She responded by saying that she had just met another traveling girl on the ferry from Sudan.  This girl was also passing through town and didn't have a place to stay.  Would it be possible for her to come here as well?

John and I looked at each other and said, "Of course! Where is she right now?"

She told us that she was at the bus station trying to figure out where to go next.  John called Sadik and the two of them went looking for her.  I started to ask Kim what she looked like, but John assured me that the foreigner probably wouldn't be hard to spot.  Oh, yeah.

About 30 minutes later, Ketvya* walked through the door.  She unloaded her large backpack and introduced herself.  We welcomed her with a glass of water and then all sat together in our living room.

Kim cycles across countries taking pictures and soaking up culture.  She had carefully saved prior to this and had her money and route planned out.  Ketvya had been backpacking for over 2 years through more countries than I could remember.  I looked at them both thinking about their stories and wondered what their parents thought about these 20-somethings trekking the world alone.

Both girls took turns showering while I began to prepare dinner.  They appeared refreshed and we sat down at the table, dining by the light of the Christmas tree.

Ketvya said, "I haven't seen a Christmas tree in a long time!" Ah, another Christmas deco lover!

We chatted about this and that, but I found myself growing more and more curious and more and more like a mother.

Why do you do this?
How do you live?
What does your mother think?
Isn't it unsafe to travel alone?
What does your mother think?
How do you decide where to go next?
What does your mother think?

However, we tried to be courteous and not too invasive.  Our local friend offered to take us sailing so we invited the girls to go with us.  What fun we had floating down the Nile, sharing lunch together and listening to Ketvya sing 60s songs with her ukulele.

As I laid my head down to sleep, I began to panic.  We don't know these girls.  They could be…crazy or thieves or spies or axe murderers!  Why did we agree to this?  No one is going to find our bodies.  Who will make sure our girls get my recipe box and bead collection?

I began to get myself worked up when I heard one of the girls laugh.  They sounded so much like our daughters.  Wouldn't I want someone to take our girls in if they needed shelter?  Wouldn't I want someone to show them kindness?  Yes, of course.

Even more, I remembered the verse in the Bible that I had been taught, "Be ready with a meal or a bed when it’s needed. Why, some have extended hospitality to angels without ever knowing it!" (Hebrews 13:2).  

As a child I had always wondered what the angel on my doorstep would look like.  Would he have giant wings or maybe look like Roma Downey?  I wasn't sure.  

On this night as I drifted to sleep peacefully, I thanked Jesus for his love for me and also for these two beautiful souls He entrusted to us.

They each prepared a meal representative of their home culture, washed the dishes and made their beds.    Perfect houseguests.  We exchanged information and promised that we would stay in contact.

As I watched them leave and we stood waving goodbye, I prayed a silent prayer of blessing:

“The Lord bless you and keep you;
The Lord make His face shine upon you,
And be gracious to you;
The Lord lift up His countenance upon you,
And give you peace.”’

Angels unaware?  I'm not sure, but I do know that these amazing girls reminded me of how we're all recipients of God's kindness and grace wherever we may come from.  May we live with an open hand always accompanied by an open heart.

*Not their real names

Joy to the World...Even Here

Necessary decorating tools...

This week is Operation: Decoration.  As is our routine, we begin decorating for Christmas the day after Thanksgiving (and the watching of "White Christmas").  I pulled out our totes and began looking through the items that I had packed over a year ago.  Some decos came from my amazing mother-in-love who has an "emporium" of goods at her fingertips at all times.  Seriously, even SANTA shops at her house.  A few things that were sentimental made it out of S*dan last January when we were given the "bum's rush" out of the country.

I gathered all of it together and proceeded to deck the halls.  It took 2 totes for our Christmas tree, but it was worth every ounce.  There are a few places here that sell artificial Christmas trees, but if you aren't into the "Charlie Brown look" you need not bother.

I poured John and myself a cup of eggnog (made from a powdered mix that I had also been saving), put on Christmas music and began hanging our shatterproof ornaments on all the newly fluffed branches.  I was humming to myself and having a ball.  

A few minutes into it I went to the tote to get a few more things.  Where are my snowmen?  Or even a snowMAN?!  I rifled through both boxes and found nothing.  Don't panic, Pam.  Surely, my "Merry Christmas" sign is around here somewhere.  No go.  I stood in disbelief.  I had one of THE most extensive snowmen collection this side of the Sahara.  In fact, I had been mocked on numerous occasions for such ridiculous displays since snow is absolutely never a possibility here.  Still, they made me smile.

John noticed my pause and asked what was wrong.  I told him, "I can't find my snowmen or my 'Merry Christmas' sign."  I could feel tears welling in my eyes.  

"They didn't make it out?" he asked.

"I thought they did, but I guess not."

He gave me a hug and said, "We'll work to rebuild our collection."

I nodded but said, "I can't replace the snowman with red dots on his face commemorating Aria's Christmas bout with chicken pox…or the snowman made out of a tube sock from my nephew…"

I concluded my vent with, "Sometimes this life is hard."

Ahhhhh, beautiful tree...

John came and gave me a hug knowing that any suggestions at how to "fix" this would not be welcomed.  He let me have my "moment" and soon I had almost recovered with a good talking to myself which included phrases like, "Come on, Pam, it's just stuff" and "This is definitely a 'first-world' problem, get a grip!"  

Just then Bing Crosby began singing, "Joy to the world the Lord is come!"  I paused and thought, "I really, really like that song."  

Then I thought, "This may be my favorite Christmas song ever." 

"No, maybe this is my favorite song ever in history."

I continued singing with Bing:

Let earth receive her King!
Let every heart prepare Him room!
And heaven and nature sing,
And heaven and nature sing,
Let heaven and heaven and nature sing.

"Joy" goes with me everywhere.  Not in a tote, not wrapped in bubble wrap, not in a carry-on, but in me and surrounding me with the knowledge that the Lord has come!  No government, no "crack-down", no coup, no expulsions, no (dare I even put this in the same sentence) missing ornaments…can take the joy that Jesus has placed in my heart.  Jesus coming, truly is joy to the world!

Joy to the world! the Savior reigns:
let men their songs employ
while fields and floods rocks hills and plains
repeat the sounding joy
repeat the sounding joy
repeat repeat the sounding joy

No more let sins and sorrows grow
nor thorns infest the ground:
he comes to make his blessings flow
far as the curse is found
far as curse is found
far as curse is found

He rules the earth with truth and grace,
and makes the nations prove
the glories of his righteousness
and wonders of his love
and wonders of his love
and wonders of his love