How very Old Testament...

This weekend is going to be one when I'll be very glad to remain indoors, away from the world outside my building. This weekend is the Muslim celebration of Eid al-Adha, a celebration of sacrifice. In short, there will be an almighty 'call to prayer' at sometime early in the morning, during which men from each Muslim household will take their knives to the Mosque to have them blessed before returning home to wait for someone to come and help them slice the throat of an animal they have bought (often a bull, cow, goat or camel). The streets will fill with the cries of dying animals who seem to know what they have coming to them and then they fill be filled with blood.

Now now, before you start talking about how horrible that is, you need to understand WHY it takes place. Some believe that it is merely a symbol of Abrahams willingness to listen to God and sacrifice Issac upon that hill thousands of years before, where God honoured Abrahams faith and let him take the life of an animal instead. Nowadays, in Islamic tradition, sacrificing an animal during Eid is a form of atonement, not unlike the Old Testament traditions of making someone right with God, settling the debt (For the wages of sin is death)...

I think the saddest thing about living in a Muslim culture, where so much emphasis is placed on having to appease God is seeing the fruitlessness of animal sacrifice. The Bible clearly lays it out for us, stating that there WAS an old covenant, where the price for sin had to be paid through ongoing sacrifice of blood... But then the NEW covenant was made, signed in the pure and holy blood of Jesus.

This weekend is a reminder of what we (as Christians) have been saved from and the amazingly awesome gift that has been given.

Yes, I'm going to hide away this weekend. Some Muslims might say that it will be because I fell guilty, having not made a sacrifice to assure my salvation (which for them, needs to be renewed each year). I say it's because I have a considerably weaker stomach than I would like to admit, and the sight of animal hides, carcasses, entrails, blood, guts and gore would be enough to make my stomach turn and have me hurling for eternity. Thank you, Jesus, that I do not have to go through that, that you were MY sacrifice, dying for MY sins, setting ME free!

Blessings

Today something lovely happened, something which rarely takes place. I actually made it home with enough time to interact with my Ayah! No small feat as I usually don't walk in the door til well after she leaves.

Ratna is my Ayah and I have known her as my angel in disguise for almost a year and a half. A Christian ayah, employed by Grace International School, Ratna is hardworking, trustworthy and quite possibly the best cook I've come across in Bangladesh. An ayah/westener relationship can take a while to get 'right', especially for the westeners! Once you get over the whole 'this person works in my house and does everything I would be doing for myself in the west' part of the equation, it ends up being the sweetest deal living in a third world country can offer.

Today, I received a blessing - time to just sit and chat with Ratna (who has a good grasp of spoken English). I was able to discover more about here than the tid-bits I'd gleaned before. With three sons attending University and looking forward to full time work of their own, Ratna works very hard to pay the monthly fees associated with study in this country. Say what you will about South-East Asian education, the government universities know a thing or two! At government universities, there is a miniscule (to us) monthly fee, but the trade off is that the courses are longer (6 years instead of 4) even though they only offer the same qualifications as shorter private university courses (4 years maximum). The trade off? A public, Government University will set you back maybe a hundred taka a month (I think that's what Ratna was saying - bear in mind, current exchange rates are 84 Taka per 1 Australian Dollar) while a Private university will cost you somewhere around 6000 Taka a month. Woah!! Still cheaper than in Australia, but ALOT in terms of average wages in Bangladesh!

After talking about families, jobs, studying and all that sort of stuff, Ratna asked me if I like living in Bangladesh. My answer was rather confusing to her at first, but once I simplified myself, we were back on track: I love living in Bangladesh, but it is hard being away from my Family. Agreeing upon this point, conversation stayed on course as we talked about Bangladesh. End of the story? Ratna would like me to stay here forever! What a sweetheart!

Bangladesh is full of blessings, and I think lately, I have been too quick to jump in with negative remarks. Hence, a new season is beginning, one where I choose to see the beauty and the positive and make a point to share my uplifting and encouraging thoughts. Starting with coffee in the morning is a good start!

Normalcy

If you had asked me two and a half years ago what I would have considered 'normal', I would have told you that my life mirrored that fairly well... If you ask me right now, my answer would be the same...

I'm not yet sure how life in Bangladesh can be considered 'normal', or what processes are in place that stop surprising you so often, or perhaps blinds you to the harsh reality of things, but I consider my life to be completely normal. So much so, that existence in the 'real', outside, western world doesn't seem to easily come to mind. For many ex-pats who arrive in Dhaka, there is a clear time-frame of how long this place will be their home. Some fulfill their initial contracts and feel led to move on or move home. Some of us stay a little longer (and often wonder why!), not feeling that the time is right to leave this land that has captured our hearts.

The decision to remain in Dhaka, working at Grace for another year was the easiest decision I've ever made. Yes, I prayed and sought counsel, but God was quick to answer, firm with his response and unwavering in his guidance. Thank goodness I'm not the one in charge!

The conclusion of these ramblings? Normal is what you make of it (who wants to be a textbook definition of 'normal' anyway?!). At the end of the day, as long as God is in charge, I'm happy for my life to be as crazy as he lets it be! And the nut-jobs I meet along the way? They're a part of the blessings that come from (and perhaps from time to time cause) the crazy!

Til next time, xoxoxox

Communications... Perhaps I need some lessons...

Right now, it's around 9 PM in Sydney, Australia. As a twenty-something, communication and contact with my friends is one of the most important things in my world. The only problem is that at this current moment, my friends are scattered across several time zones. From Northern Ireland and Cameroon (where it's close to mid-day) to those adventurous enough to live in the 'mountain' time zone throughout America and Canada (where it's an ungodly 5 am or so), time zones are making me crazy! It reminds me of the newest 'Simple Plan' song 'jet lag':

What time is it where you are?
I miss you more than anything
Back at home you feel so far
Waitin' for the phone to ring
It's gettin’ lonely livin’ upside down
I don't even wanna be in this town
Tryin' to figure out the time zones makin' me crazy

You say good morning
When it's midnight
Going out of my head
Alone in this bed
I wake up to your sunset
It's drivin me mad
I miss you so bad
and my heart heart heart is so jetlagged

What time is it where you are?
5 more days and I'll be home
I keep your picture in my car
I hate the thought of you alone
I've been keepin' busy all the time
Just to try to keep you off my mind
Tryin' to figure out the time zones makin’ me crazy

You say good morning
When it's midnight
Going out of my head
Alone in this bed
I wake up to your sunset
And it's drivin' me mad
I miss you so bad
And my heart, heart heart is so Jetlagged
Heart heart heart is so Jetlagged
Heart heart heart is so Jetlagged

I miss you so bad [x5]
I wanna share your horizon
I miss you so bad
and see the same sunrising
I miss you so bad
Turn the hour hand back to when you were holding me.

You say good morning
When it's midnight
Going out of my head
Alone in this bed
I wake up to your sunset
And it's drivin' me mad
I miss when you say good morning
But it's midnight
Going out of my head
Alone in this bed
I wake up to your sunset
And it's drivin' me mad
I miss you so bad
And my heart heart heart is so Jetlagged
Heart heart heart is so Jetlagged
Heart heart heart is so Jetlagged
Is so Jetlagged
Is so Jetlagged

And so, my lament of the evening is this: I miss my friends and time-zones suck!

From the East to the West, travelled in an Easterly Direction...

When you've resided in a Third World country and then witness this sight within days of arriving in the West, it's a little shocking. This was the sight that greeted me on my first real venture from my parents place since landing in Sydney on Sunday night. My reaction was wide-eyed surprise and a general speechless disposition, which caught the attention of my mother. Seeing such affluence and wealth was kind of disgusting, I'm not going to lie. Having the perspective that has grown in me over the last two years, going from witnessing absolute poverty to being surrounded by everything of "The West", makes me re-think a lot of things I had previously disregarded about my future.

Being home for 6 weeks brings many blessings, especially through the company of my family. My mother is pretty amazing, and she plans lovely things for me to do with her whenever I'm home. Usually, that comes in the form of seeing a professional show or two. Last night, I got to see Hairspray at the Lyric Theatre in Sydney's Star City. WOAH! It was amazing! From the innovative set design and application to Trevor Ashley and Grant Piro absolutely losing it in fits of laughter in the middle of a song, all the way to Esther Hannaford making me almost wet myself, the show was of such a high callibre that I wish I could afford my own ticket so I could see it again! Jaz Flowers has such charisma and talent, I could have watched her perform the whole show herself and not get bored. The casting alone in this thing is stunning, Cle Morgan truly gave Queen Latifah a run for her money (and I flipping LOVE Queen Latifah!). Set in Baltimore, Marylands, USA, I was expecting accents so distracting and unworthy of the stage, but was very much surprised! Kudo's to whoever was the cast's dialect coach!




In other Sydney news, I have stayed low-key and unobtrusive thanks muchly to the rain and lack of a car. Today, however, the shopping mall was paid a visit from yours truly... Quite Frankly, I'm shocked!
Day in and day out, I commonly wear Shalwar Kameezes, traditional Bangladesh pant/dress combinations complete with an orna (kind of like a scarf, cause no one should see or be tempted by the fact I am a woman and have appropriate appendages at a short man's eye level...). Anyway, We wear baggy pants that remind us of PJ'http://www.blogger.com/img/blank.gifs and long tunics so that we're well and truly covered, especially KRISTA SCHROEDER! And now, upon perusing the shops, I'm discovering that these blasted Shalwars (aka clown pants) are in fashion! I could have just brought my daily attire home and been the most popular girl walking around! Goodness, how things have changed!!

Perhaps by the next time you hear from me, I'll be more balanced and used to being back in the West... Though probably not!

Big shout-outs to the Badeshi's in my life that I'm missing more than the convenience of Rickshaw rides! xox

StrategySixtyOne

Living in Dhaka, it's surprising how often your blinders kick into gear and you don't see the needs of those around you so much. Whether it's the fact you're busy or self involved or just too overwhelmed, you miss the visual reminders that you live and exist where you do - in a third world country...

Each day at Grace First School, we have assembly. This entails a teacher sharing a piece of scripture or bible story and leading the school in worship, through prayer and song. I'm on assembly tomorrow, and I am sharing a passage from Isaiah 61 and introducing the work and responsibility in response to it. Tomorrow is the concept of preaching to the poor. I'm sad to say that this has hit me like a tonne of bricks. Ever had one of those moments when you've been let in a secret you should have known about and understood a LONG time ago. This is one for me.

We like in one of the poorest ountries in the world, and I've been so worried about silly ittle things, I've well and truly missed the point. There's a reason I'm in Bangladesh and not Sydney. Yes, there's chances to minister to all sorts of people in Sydney. But I never would have grown, I would have remained the naive, untravelled, 'should have been a teacher in the 1800's' type of person, living day in and day out, not discovering the ways God wanted to change me. Please don't mis-understand me, I a in no way saying people who remain where they are are not shaped by God. I'm just saying that now, looking back, I'm not sure God could have changed me the way I needed to change while I remained in that setting.

Isaiah 61:1-2 tells us this:
The Spirit of the Sovereign LORD is on me,
because the LORD has anointed me
to proclaim good news to the poor.
He has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted,
to proclaim freedom for the captives
and release from darkness for the prisoners,
to proclaim the year of the LORD’s favor
and the day of vengeance of our God,
to comfort all who mourn,


They do not know it yet, but Years 3, 4 and 5 of Grace International School are about to undertake StrategySixtyOne. They may only be 7-11 years old, but these kids are going to walk the talk. As for me, I am too. My blinders are off. I may struggle to percieve poverty, it may challenge and upset my comfort zone, but lets face it, Banlgadesh and comfort zone aren't exactly a peaches and cream example of cohesion.

More to come.
In the meantime, please pray. There are thousands yet to hear the joy of God's word in this country - in this city.

Week 11 of an 11 week term... Beware of the classroom!

Ask any teacher at Grace International School how they're feeling, and I'm guessing they'll say tired! At this stage in the term, it is easy to feel like nothing much is being accomplished, though in actual fact, we're still powering through the curriculum. Year 3 have been busy of late drawing on our desks (and wiping them clean afterwards, thank you, board markers!) for interactive maths lessons. When we're not being mathematical, we're filling our heads with all sorts of other things.
Pictograms for birthdays.

Our classroom

Proof we learn stuff!


Tomorrow we are having a fairytale day, all things Cinderella and Snow White (with some dragons and sword fights thrown in for good measure)