Our first IMPACT project.

Last we wrote about our IMPACT club, we were just getting started with them, and felt like we bit off more than we could handle. A whole class of fifth graders had just been recruited to a club of high-schoolers, and Kelly and I had just taken over leading the club. Twenty fifth-graders in a classroom is crazy enough I'm sure, but when they're part of a club that's empowering them to be creative and leaders in their own right, they really take that seriously. The freedom to be heard and accepted for whatever you say invites a lot of weird things to be said and done. Especially when it's 12-year-old boys doing it. Oh well.

Despite their inability to have a civilized debrief discussion for more than 5 minutes and how much they like to hit each other and call each other peasants, we actually implemented a service-learning project last weekend! The great thing about being IMPACT leaders is that we're supposed to kind of step back when it comes to these projects and empower the club members to think through the project and do most of the work. We just try to ask the right questions and point out the things they might have missed and help them get materials. Our kids decided that they wanted to put on an afternoon of various competitions in the park, pretty much just to create an option for fun in a place where kids usually have to make their own fun. It's proper IMPACT project planning to identify a problem and then to creatively plan a project that addresses that problem. When we explained that this is the normal procedure, our kids told us that they knew a lot of kids who simply stay at home and play on the computer, so this "Active Day" in the park could draw them outside and away from the computer.

We had about a month and a half to teach these fifth graders what a service-learning project is and how to implement one, so I admit we had low expectations for this first project. Thanks, however, to three excellent junior leaders, some hard working fifth graders, and a ton of patience, we were on the way to having a killer day in the park planned sometime in July. Unfortunately, we wanted to do it on June 1st since school ends pretty soon after that. Fortunately, we had to push the date back to June 7, and that week before, we all managed to step up our level of focus and helpfulness. Kelly even went with Raluca, Maria and Bumb to gather a bunch of water so we wouldn't die of heatstroke.

When it came to Saturday the 7th, I was so thankful that we live in a small-ish town in Romania, because we were able to do so much that day. Andrada, Adelina, Raluca, Maria, and Bumb came early to hand out some awesome fliers that they had made to promote the benefits of a healthy lifestyle, and Kelly and I sat at a bench on the park trying to convince all the kids who flocked to us that the event wouldn't start until 1:30, and since it was still 11:45, they needed to go away for now so that we could set things up.

Eventually, we got the obstacle course and the start and finish line for the 150-ish meter dash set up. 70 kids signed up to participate, so we split them into two groups and ran them at the same time. Apart from a few inattentive timers and some argumentative competitors, everything went surprisingly well, mainly thanks to Eliza, one of the junior leaders, who led the competitors in fun large group games in between the events. Halfway through, we switched to the egg-in-a-spoon race (70 kids only broke 5 eggs! What?!?!?) and the race where you put a bottle full of river dirt between your legs and jump over small traffic cones as fast as you can.

In the end, we added up the fastest times and gave the top four kids in each age group (8-10 and 11-14) prizes--a soccer ball, badminton rackets, you know, sporty stuff. Once the competitors left, we rolled the tires from the obstacle course back across the street to the car shop, threw the remaining eggs either in the dumpster or as hard as we could on the ground (it's ok, the dogs ate them), and breathed a large sigh of relief. Our first IMPACT project. And it went well. 

Another visa update.

Hallelujah, hallelujah.

We went to Deva today and applied for a two-year visa.

And it worked.

(I would write out the whole saga, or use a lot more explanation points to communicate my true excitement about this, if only I wasn't quite so tired.)

It's been well over a month of waiting, calling various Romanian bureaucrats in offices across the country, paying and praying and waiting some more, and crossing our fingers that documents would get shuffled quickly across desks that are notoriously slow.  But with the help of some persistent friends and some faithful prayers, yesterday we received our Aviz from the Romanian Ministry of Religious of Affairs, approving us for a two-year stay in Romania to work with our local church here in Lupeni.  So today we headed to Deva to apply with the immigration officials.  And 11 hours later, we were home again, papers filed, a load lifted off our shoulders, tired and hot and oh-so-relieved.

Yippee!

Why I blog.

A friend sent me this quote a while back, and it's resonated for a while.  It's a quote from Stephanie Paulsell writing about Marguerite d'Oingt, who was a Catholic nun, writer, and mystic, I believe.  She said, “To write in such a way as to invite both thought and love is to write on behalf of others. It is to practice writing as a spiritual discipline that has the good of others at its heart. It is to write in a way that exposes one’s hopes and motivations, that betrays one’s love.” 

I'm feeling pretty down about our life abroad right now -- well, mine specifically.  Feeling misunderstood, or not really known, is a horrible form of loneliness, and it's popped up a lot over the last year and a half that we've lived in Romania.  I always thought of myself as an open person, an honest person, and a person who was really genuinely interested in other people.  Living here has exposed me to the harsh reality that I am not as open, loving, or selfless as I liked to think -- that actually, I have a lot of growing to do in all of these things.

But when I write about our experience here in Lupeni, in our newsletter and on this blog and in the emails we share with friends in other places we've called home, I feel like I can be myself.  I can be honest.  I can share my heart, what I really mean, and hopefully -- oh, I so hope! -- betray my love.

Even if I can't always do it in person.

So here's to the growth that's happening, to having the good of others at heart.  And may it take all sorts of forms.
 

Sunday picnics and vote-buying.

The title of this post might be unnecessarily inflammatory, since we're not 100% certain that what we saw yesterday was vote-buying... but as Jack reminded me, "Let's not forget our context."  We do live in the Jiu Valley.  And for all the wonderful people we've met here and the love I have for this place, it's also got a history of corruption.  I like to forget that.  But yesterday it came rushing back.

It was the first non-rainy day in over a week, so Jack and I decided to celebrate by spending Sunday afternoon hiking in the mountains above Lupeni.  We packed some food in our backpacks and headed out, and as we passed through the neighborhood near the foot of the trail, we suddenly came around the corner to the aroma of grilling meat.  It's not an uncommon smell this time of year, as Romanians love barbeques (another reason why it's awesome to live here)... but this was an uncommon sight, as dozens of people were seated on picnic tables lined up near the side of the road, munching on mici and slurping beer as political posters fluttered overhead.

It's election season.  Next Sunday Romanians head to the polls to elect their representatives to the European Parliament.  Posters are plastered everywhere, though they contain what seems like surprisingly little information to a political junky like me -- a name, picture, and party logo, but no links to websites or position statements.  I've asked some Romanian friends where they go to actually learn about the candidates and what they stand for, and they just stared at me blankly.  "Uh, the news is pretty full of propaganda, so I've just given up," one of our friends from church said bluntly.  I wasn't sure what to ask next after that.

So civic engagement and the democratic process here in the valley remains a bit of a mystery to me.  Really, my knowledge is limited to my conversations with friends and the stories I'd heard of vote-buying happening with beer and sausages (this seems to be an especially common tactic of the current mayor, apparently)... but I never thought I would actually see it.

Until yesterday.

Like I said earlier, perhaps it was just a political rally of sorts.  Maybe people had to pay for their food, or could donate to support this guy's campaign.  Maybe it was a gathering of like-minded supporters, and the delicious aroma and blasting music was simply a way to attract curious passerby to learn more about the candidate.  But judging from the huge number of people who had gathered by the time Jack and I made our way back from our hike, plus the fact that the event was taking place in a back neighborhood, and the fact that no one was actually speaking at the event... it became hard to believe.  I had had every intention of stopping and asking around on our way back from our hike, my political science-y self curious as always, but Jack and I both had such a weird feeling about the event that we just skedaddled, unwilling to lend our presence to the possibly-shady beer & sausage fest.

I dunno.  I hesitate to pass judgment on a situation that I merely passed by and don't really understand.  But I wonder.  I do wonder. 

(For more on corruption and transparency in Romania, check out www.transparencyinternational.eu.)

A visa update.

As some of you know, Jack and I have spent the last two months searching for an alternative visa solution in order to stay in Romania, now that Romanian laws have changed and no longer permit long-term volunteers to renew their visas for more than a year.  Thankfully, with a quick trip out of the country and lots of conversations with our church here, we've found a solution: a religious workers visa, which could be good for up to five years.

Basically, receiving this visa would mean we are technically in Romania under the auspices of Centrul Crestin Betel, the small Gypsy Pentecostal church we attend here in Lupeni -- not through New Horizons Foundation.  Practically, we are already doing activities with the youth and community of the church in addition to our work at NHF, so little would change, except that perhaps we would try to increase that work a bit.  The church is really hungry for Christian education and discipleship training for its youth, so involving them in the work of New Horizons is a great fit anyway -- and through our CRWM connections and otherwise, we're doing our best to help the church network with Romanian ministries that might have tools that meet this congregation's needs.  It's exciting, and deepens the relationship with this local church, which is something we've been hoping and praying for for a long time.

But the process is on a pretty strict timeline.  On Monday we finished collecting our documents and sent them up to Oradea, where the denominational headquarters sits, via the Romanian postal service.  As I write this on Friday morning, we haven't yet heard that the documents have arrived.  Hopefully today.  Then, the denominational head needs to write a formal request to the Ministry of Religious Affairs for us to be volunteers with the church, and that request (plus the other documents) needs to be sent on to Bucuresti.  Once the Ministry of Religious Affairs receives the pile, they need to approve the request and send it all back with a formal declaration of approval.  Once we finally get all that (hopefully by the 25th of May!), then we can head to the county seat in Deva and the immigration authorities there to file through the normal process -- proving we don't have contagious diseases, paying many fees and taxes, showing proof of insurance and housing and volunteer activities, etc., etc. 

The tricky thing is that you are supposed to head to the county seat on your 60th day in the country, so that you can receive your visa by day 90 (the last day to legally stay in Romania without a visa).  For Jack, May 25th is day 60.  (For me, it's a little later since I was gone in Haiti longer.)  But before Jack can head up to Deva to file with immigration, he has to receive the documents back from the Ministry of Religious Affairs... and so it's a waiting game while we hope and pray, crossing our fingers that the post moves quickly, that the piles on desks are short, and that the Holy Spirit works mightily even within the Romanian bureaucracy.

We should be fine, so there's no need for any of you to worry on our behalf.  Everything is perfectly above-board and legal, and there is no real need for concern.  But I can be a control freak sometimes, and trusting what feels like our fate to the hands of the Romanian postal service and some unknown bureaucrats makes me a little nervous.  But we've been praying that God would make it clear to us, eventually, whether He wants us to stay in Romania longer... so I guess this could be a pretty clear sign!  Just kidding.  Really, though, the reason I wanted to explain this whole process is because we really would love to have you praying.  Please pray for speedy returns, for easy approvals, for all the necessary documents to be where they need to be in their proper forms (there aren't really clear lists of what documents are necessary, so...).  Pray for the whole visa process, that it would go smoothly and in a timely manner.  And in the meantime, please pray that we would be present here, thankful for the chance to serve with this church and this organization, and making the most of every day.

Thanks.

A video for you.

Hi there friends.

This is a video made by Michael and Claudia Elzinga, two volunteers with Christian Reformed World Missions, who went on a world-wide trip to make videos of what CRWM people are doing all over the world.

This is the video that they made about Romania. It nicely explains the context in which Kelly and I and many other people live in Romania, and why we do what we do here. And it features a few of our colleagues from FNO!

http://vimeo.com/82623987

Short skirts and beautiful bellies.

We attended another baptism today -- or at least, attended part of it.  Jack was feeling pretty ill and spent much of the day in bed, so we left the party earlier than we had hoped, sorry to have to miss the celebrations.  As some of you might remember from the first infant baptism we attended in Romania, these are a really big deal.  The ceremony is small and happens at the Orthodox church with only a small group of friends and family, but the after-party is huge -- three or four separate meals served over the course of 8 hours, punctuated by dancing and drinking and all sorts of revelry.  (Our experience with baptisms at the Pentecostal church we attend is a totally different story, though similarly jubilant... more about that another time!)

Today, an interesting thought struck me at the baptism after-party, one that surprised me a little.  First of all, let me explain the context of the party: it's in a local restaurant's dance hall, and there's a lot of alcohol, a lot of dancing, and a lot of tight, short dresses.  At first glance it looks like... well, as some would put it, "a den of sin."  (Harumph.)  But the celebration is of something holy, or at least that's what it's supposed to be -- a celebration that this little baby (the little baby who is fast asleep in the corner as the music booms over the loudspeakers) -- that this little person is somehow created and chosen by God.  And so we celebrate, because that's an amazing and miraculous and wonderful thing!  So we dance, and eat, and dress our finest.  Whatever that finest may be.

I will admit, usually Romanian party styles are not my thing.  The whole tight fit/short hem/sheer fabric combo so common on the streets of Lupeni has taken a bit of getting used to after 20+ years in predominantly-Christian circles in the American Midwest.  But today at the baptism, I couldn't help but smile at it.  Sure, a few of the outfits were a little much.  But it takes some courage for a new mother to put on a short, tight dress and to dance with her best friends for hours celebrating the new life of her son.  There were many women with magazine-perfect bodies there, but there were women with bodies of all shapes and sizes as well.  And I don't know... as much as I believe there is an important place for modesty, I also think there is a place for accepting and even celebrating healthy bodies in all their wonderful diversity.  So it makes me smile to see middle-aged women in tight dresses, dancing and eating, their stomachs bouncing with laughter -- stomachs that are less than "perfect" from pregnancies and child-rearing and the beautiful normalcy of aging.  I dunno.  In my observation of American culture, in which I was raised, we seem to treat modesty as a problem only for those who fit a pretty narrow definition of beauty.  Everyone else is told to hide, cover, or tuck -- the issue of 'decency' has a whole different slant (usually implying "eww, hide that!") for those with rolls.  So sure, maybe there are some conversations about modesty that need to happen here in Lupeni too.  But at least they seem to be a little more equal-opportunity.  And somehow that's refreshing to me. 

Personally, I am still convinced that modesty matters, particularly for Christians.  But I am equally convinced that honoring these temples -- these God-given and God-created bodies -- matters, regardless of their shape.  (I'm not talking about health here; I am talking about the fact that most of us, even with healthy lifestyles, have curves and bumps in places that don't fit on magazines.)  And to be honest, sometimes I think 'modesty' ends up as a convenient excuse for the body shaming that happens with so many of us... and maybe it would be better, more freeing, if every now and then we would wear a short skirt (cankles and tummy and all!) and just dance and laugh and celebrate.  In these bodies.  Looking our finest.  Whatever that finest may be.