| My view of Bucharest from the kitchen window…  Well, I've been here over a week now, helping out at the ministry of Calvary Chapel Bucharest. I've done a little laundry, some cooking, and a lot of dishes. I've learned a little (actually a lot) more Romanian and they already have me helping some of the first graders with math homework and a little bit with reading – which at first was terrifying, but now is not too bad. Actually, I really enjoy it. I'm learning to push myself past the "I'm tired, can we go home now?" point to get things done. Friday night Rebecca and I got back to the apartment well after eleven at night. We had worked all day, cleaned up at the church and then helped clear out some old furniture from someone's apartment to deliver it to where some of the kids live. I'd never been much past the gate before, but Rebecca warned me that there might be rats since we were going after dark and to try not to flip out if I saw one, so I was prepared to avoid going in (lol – I'm such a chicken sometimes). But I somehow ended up on the other side of a bedframe as a 17 year old girl who was about 7 months pregnant (the sister of one of the kids who comes to the foundation), headed through broken pavement toward a stairwell that I wasn't sure would hold both us and the bedframe. The thought going through my head was, "Merciful heavens, I'm going in!" which was probably evident because Dan (from the ministry) said a couple of times, "I'm right behind you." We went up the sketchy stairs, around a sketchy corner that the frame almost got stuck in, and through the door into the single room that is shared by four generations of their family – a mom, her parents, her teenage kids and nephew, and her grandbaby. I'm not sure the wood nailed in their windows kept the heat in and all the water out when the rain came down in buckets on Saturday. They have electricity, but only at night - Rebecca explained to me how they have been able to tap into the streetlights to get it. It was good to see where the kids live and how they live. She also explained that it's not necessarily that they are so poor they have to live this way, but that this is what they know and they choose to spend their money differently. And yet – when we got there with the bedframe and mattress, the mom came out and hugged and kissed us all – she was so joyful to be able to give her kids a bed.  (It didn't seem right to take a picture of the place where we delivered the bed, but here is a picture of the rain we had on Saturday.) Earlier on Friday I was helping two kids from that area with homework. I wanted to help both equally, but it was a matter of saying "Stai putin" (wait a moment) to one while helping the other and then switching who was being helped and who was "stai putin"-ing and I'm not sure they both got enough help. The two first-graders are not at the same level at all. One is reading four- and five-syllable words. The other doesn't want to read in front of people at all, preferring to copy the words down from her book, one letter at a time. The help she gets from the foundation is the only help that she will get with her homework – and without it she would probably not be in school at all. School is not considered that important in her culture (the gypsy culture) - especially for girls, who have a much higher chance of being married and/or having babies by the time they reach 15 than they do of being able to read and do basic math by that age. These kids who go to school and have someone to help them have a fighting chance to do something else with their lives if they want to. When I was helping the kids yesterday it struck me that even though I don't understand the language that well and I can speak it even less, there are three kinds phrases that make a difference when I'm working with the kids: Stai putin / Stai ajos (Wait a moment / Sit down) Ce am spus? (What did I say?) And the most important: Stiu poti. (I know you can.) They need to know that it's not too hard for them, but also that someone believes that they can do hard things. They are doing something that many other kids they know don't get to do. I don't know what their culture says about school except that girls don't really need it. It's neat to see the environment of encouragement there. There are lots of reasons to say Bravo, ai faci! (Good job, you did it!) There are plenty of stern reminders to sit down, to listen, to do what they are supposed to be doing and the kids are kids so there's also plenty of squabbling. But even among the kids, I've seen them encourage each other. This last week they have been learning the story of Ruth and on Friday, there was a competition of questions about the story. Most of the kids were not paying that much attention, so there were plenty of wrong answers, but when someone got the right answer there was rejoicing all around the tables. The kids also loved singing "La mult ani" (the Romanian version of Happy Birthday) to me last week. It's weird to think that I'm 26 now… when did that happen? But I like being able to look back at the last several years or more and see that where I am now is so much better than where I thought I'd be. The Lord didn't bring me to this age in a way I expected, and He's brought me a lot of places that I didn't expect – ten years ago I would not have thought that I'd be celebrating my birthday in Bucharest, Romania. I thought maybe I'd be living in a big city (maybe Portland or New York) and writing or maybe having my own family… but come to think of it, I am living in a big city and writing and I am loving some kids and trying in a small way to help them grow up. It's only for a short time that I will be here, but, as a Romanian friend told me when we were talking about that – Dumnezeu stie. God knows what He has planned. Prayer requests – *Please pray that the Lord would continue to provide for the church (the building, the pastor, the ministry team, and missionaries) and all that they are doing here. *Please pray for me to keep learning and improving my Romanian quickly so that I can communicate well with the kids and others who don't speak English. The Lord has been faithful in this already, preparing me for understanding the language long before I ever thought I'd be here... it's Latin-based – Da, Dumnezeu stie. Yes, God knows. And He is helping me! And more pictures… |
A very empty building near Gara du Nord train station
Rebecca and me across the street from that empty building
550 years ago, Vlad the Impaler was here. What was "The Prince's Court" is now underneath central Bucharest.
This is inside the nicest, newest shopping mall in Bucharest.
Sadly, I am too old to get the student discount now.
But that's ok - I get to have gogosi for birthday cake. :-)
