One Week and Counting

(I have been so blessed to be able take pictures of the family I'm living with, but please do not use these images for anything without asking permission.  Thanks!)

It's been one full week since my 'family'-the family of Somali refugees I'm living with-arrived in Minneapolis.  Every day there's been a new discovery, a step further out of the known into the new, both for the family and myself.  This family is so intriguing, beautiful and colorful, I know it will be hard to say goodbye when the time comes.

The kiddos of the family

The experience has definitely lost a bit of its luster by now as the daily grind of living with 9 people who speak a different language has worn on me.  Not being able to say exactly what I want to in Swahili or English they understand is so frustrating, especially when I think I've communicated the thought then they come to me two minutes later and ask the same question!  The idea that I would want to be alone is totally foreign.  Every time I move from one room to another, three or four people come with me, even climbing up into the top bunk where I sleep to get me to talk to them!  I've tried a couple of times to explain that I just need some time by myself, but after I finished explaining, the girls just sat there staring blankly at me...obviously they didn't get the message! haha!  I've begun reading my Bible and journaling either after my roommate, the oldest daughter, has gone to sleep or before she wakes up, but this is hard to do since she consistently wants to stay up later than I do and doesn't have a set time to wake up.  It's hard to carve out time with God in such a busy house. 

Cheese!  Just after getting backpacks full of school supplies donated by a local church.

Two days ago most of the house was napping so I sat on the floor in my room with my Bible and starting reading 1 Corinthians 13 (a good reminder haha), but just when I was getting focused, the oldest daughter woke up, came and sat by me and asked what I was reading.  How can you possibly say no to that?!  So I explained as best I could in Swahili and simple English, very slowly with lots of repetition, the first couple of verses describing love.  Almost everything I read seemed to contradict the way she had been interacting with her siblings and parents that day, and she understood the implications.  When her brothers came in and distracted us, she yelled at them and threw something at them to make them leave, which is a pretty typical example of their interactions.  I laughed and said "Love is patient, love is kind!  Do you remember?"  She was really embarrassed and she totally understood that she wasn't loving her brothers like the verses said.  The fact that it's the Bible doesn't really matter since the Quran tells them to read the holy books, the Old Testament law, prophets and Psalms and the New Testament.  

Another time I was sitting with the three oldest daughters talking about henna, oils for your hair and other things Somali women do to make themselves beautiful, and it was the perfect opportunity to bring up true beauty.  I quoted the verse from Proverbs that says that charm is deceptive and beauty is fleeting but a woman who fears the Lord is to be praised, then talked about how we can make ourselves beautiful on the outside but still be dirty and ugly on the inside.  The part about fearing the Lord really connected with them because respecting and honoring Allah is a huge cornerstone of their faith.  The topic of the inside mattering more than the outside came up again while they were washing before prayers one day.  I commented that just like beauty, being clean was more valuable when it reflected the heart and mind.  So little by little, the truth is getting out there and I pray that God will continue to give me the grace to recognize the opportunities, the boldness to take them, and the patience to keep loving when opportunities are scarce and life is difficult.  

Mama of the family.

I was so blessed watching the father interact with his kids a couple of days ago...he wanted the boys to go into their room and read the Quran, but he didn't have to say anything, he opened their bedroom door and those boys BOOKED it to their room and started right away-they knew if they went slowly or with an attitude there would be consequences.  Then right after that the youngest (who is 2) started hitting her sister, so as he was walking by her he told her to stop and flicked her hand.  She was shocked by the punishment and started crying and went to her mom, but the dad walked over and took her, held her and talked to her till she stopped crying.  It was such an incredible display of authority and gentleness in the span of a minute that it brought tears to my eyes!  I don't know if it was just the fathers I observed, but I have rarely seen Somali fathers who are very engaged and caring towards their children, especially their daughters, so his affection and attention, even in discipline, was especially impacting to me.

Oh man, yesterday on of the daughters, who is sweet and quiet and laughs a lot, was sitting next to me on the floor, and she went to point at something in the room and accidentally hit my arm.  She said "Shit! Sorry!"  Then kept talking to her sister...I thought for sure it was just her accent and that there was no way she had really just said that word!  So I asked her sister, "What did she say?"  And she said it again!  hahahah!  Trying not to die laughing, I explained that it was a bad word and not to use it like that, which made them ask what it meant.  Have you ever tried to explain what shit actually is in another language with absolutely no vocabulary to describe it?! It was hilarious!!!!  I tried everything, but in my 16 months of Swahili learning, I never learned the word for poop so I resorted to sign language, which made things even worse.  When I gave up I think they thought it meant fart, but they at least understood not to use the word so flippantly.  

My beautiful roommate, who I recently learned is married and expecting a child!  Hooray!

Last night before I fell asleep, from the bed below me, my friend said, "Laurie?  Ninakupenda." (They haven't quite figured out how to say my name so it switches between many variations) She was saying, "Laurie?  I love you."  Ahhh!  I peaked my head over the bed and told her I loved her too, and that might be the highlight of my week so far.  :)