Hello my many rafikis (Friends)!
Well the journey so far has been absolutely amazing. After leaving Nairobi we drove about 8 hours north and spent the night over looking a beautiful safari conservation park. The next day we drove another 7 hours on dusty, incredibly bumpy roads and we were dealing with a slipping clutch. We bought a new clutch but couldn't replace it because there was no mechanics pit to work over, so we just drove slowly so the land rover would not kick into Turbo mode. :) We spent the next night with some local Kenyans and had a wonderful evening of fellowship. I slept on the floor of a fairly simple home, but at least it was made of cement. The neighbours houses were all made of sticks that were rounded in to nomadic huts.
On Sunday we drove the final 7 hours of the journey and I saw zebras, gazelles, baboons, dik diks, and vultures. For about 2 hours we drove on the Chalbi desert since it was dry so that made our trip go a bit smoother - but man, the dust was atrocious. Finally we rounded a small mounded and landed in an oasis called Kalacha - where camels and goats roam freely even though they have a shepherd looking over them. A camel is worth about $200, about half the price of a cow. I have been eating a lot of camel and goat up here because it is so very accessible. And chai - every where I go I am offered Kenya tea and it is super yummy. Each location has it's own set of spices to put inside... sometime bark adds the flavor - other times it is ginger and nutmeg, etc. I love it every time.
In Kalacha I am living on a mission station. I have my own guest house and Rachel and Eddie live right next door with their five lively children. Thorn trees grow everywhere. Lizards and spiders hang out on our walls and screens. Long drops serve as the bathroom facilities and joyfully there is a cement pool here... 5 feet deep.
It is super hot - well 95 degrees and very humid but the wind is constantly blowing. But that also means that the sand and dust is blowing too. Everything is gritty. We are 400 miles from a grocery store so fresh produce is a rarity and a sheer delight.
Today I had a the privilege to fly in a Cessna 6 seater to a northern mountain town called Gatab. I went with a young couple who were going to have their baby's arm xrayed at the local hospital. It was a 20 minute flight or a 6 hour drive. :) The view was incredible as we flew over the desert. From Gatab I was only 100 miles south of the Ethiopian border. The Cessna brought in all the missionaries mail and packages so it was a great day for everyone.
Yesturday I was able to go with the nurse to a mobil clinic. We found a village about 15 km away and 12 women came out with their babies and children tied to their backs. We weighed the babies, immunized two little ones and gave polio vaccinations to all the children. A local pastor also preached a very short sermon. A truly neat ministry.
Other wise, I am resting, enjoying meeting people, looking out for snakes and scorpions, and rarely writing an email because my computer is dead and everything here runs on solar power or satellite connections.
Hope this finds you all well. I am having a blast. I never thought I'd enjoy the desert - but it's phenominal.
Love ya!!
Karebear
Thursday, June 17, 2010
Unavoidable Delay - March 3, 2009
Babar a kay!! (Good morning every one!)
Well, it looks like I am going to be spending up to another week amongst the Gabra people in Kalacha. The last few days have been eventful, stressful, and adventurous.
Saturday morning a group of men came over to another missionary home to complain about the nurse that was up here. Gloria - the nurse whom I traveled with and went on mobile clinics with. Apparently they were upset that Gloria charges too much for the meds (even though they are super cheap) and that she isn’t compassionate enough. The group was filled with 20 or so men, some of them were drunk or high on Mara and they got even more upset talking with the other missionary family. They marched over to Gloria’s house, threw rocks at her door and told her she had 24 hours to get out of town. Gloria was completely targeted out of the blue. Gloria was stunned.
We all believe that the mob had this well planned out because there were no church leaders in town, most of the elderly men were out in the fields, the town chief was three hours away on a supply run, and it is not the Gabra way to do things with out the chief and the elders around to talk things through and make good decisions. Gloria left town by 6pm with the only other two male missionaries left in town. That left three single girls (me included) and two mothers with 8 children combined trying to figure out what to do. Contingency plans were made up of how we could get out of town even though the Gabra said that they weren’t upset with us. We were all on edge for the rest of the day.
Eddie came back that night at 11pm from a church conference and he brought with him three leaders who were shocked about what happened. We have no idea if it was a good thing if Gloria left as soon as she did because the clinic is now shut down and this mob of young men are now starting to realize they did something wrong. They are not violent people. In a town with 4000 people, I have yet to see a weapon, except a knife to butcher animals.
On Sunday morning, Rachel, Eddie, and I were going to leave for a mini-vacation of camping in game parks as they drove me down country so that I could attend the International Teams conference in Nairobi (which starts March 9) and join my Ugandan team-mates. Well, we decided to post-pone that for a day until the other missionary men came back in to town to be with their families.
On Monday morning, at 10:30 pm all 8 of us loaded in to the Land Rover and about 45 minutes away, in the middle of the Chalbi desert we heard a loud metal clunk and smelled oil. We stopped the vehicle and saw that the radiator had come lose and hit the fan. We stood in the middle of the desert for three hours trying to repair the radiator. Another vehicle came along just as we were finishing the repairs - enough to get us turned around back to Kalacha. We were all cranky and dehydrated because we were rationing the water… we had no idea how long we might have had to stay in the desert with a broken vehicle.
So, now I am back in Kalacha - with no fresh food (we thought we were going to go down country to get supplies). Don’t worry, I’m not hungry, I’m just tired of meat with rice and beans. I miss fresh fruit and veggies. And no vehicle to get us down country. A radiator needs to be specially built.
So, now my options to get down country are a 12 seater flight on Friday - but it leaves from the town that is three hours away - we might be able to get one of the Muslim local store owners drive Rachel and I to Marsabit to fly to Nairobi. Or a six seater flight next Monday morning… then I can take a taxi straight from the airport to the conference centre. Pray that there are seats available on either plane and that I can have peace about staying another week in Kalacha.
That’s my weekend in a nutshell. We have been reading “Cheaper by the Dozen” in the evenings and the father always says it is one of those “Unavoidable Delays!”
Serving a God who is Good,
Karen
Everything Has Its Time - from August 1, 2009
Everything Has Its Time
“Everything on earth has its own time and its own season.” Here in Uganda I am confused as to what season it is. I think it is supposed to be rainy season, but it continues to be hot and dry. Also, this is a strange season in my life. I have been Uganda for almost five months and I think I have past the honeymoon season. I find that more and more often I am feeling culturally frustrated, and yet I am feeling more and more at home here.
“There is a time for birth and death, planting and reaping,” Last week I was able to meet precious baby Esther just hours after she was born. I have been there for her first bath, many clothing changes since diapers are almost non-existent or huge, and I gave the family my camera for a week to capture the memories.
Death – well, the pictures of the former LRA soldiers and victims that I helped to collect and place in the mass grave still cross through my mind and I am reminded daily to pray for peace in the Teso area.
Planting and reaping is a constant struggle in this area. Due to the lack of rains the crops are failing and famine is winning. I also hope that the words of my mouth and the meditations of my heart will plant seeds in the lives of the people around me and I pray that God will help me also to walk along side of those who desire to follow HIM.
“for killing and healing, destroying and building,” Too often I have heard stories of children who are neglected and die due to lack of love or food. It saddens me. But I also thank the Lord for places like Amecet – an orphanage that looks after some of these neglected or sick babies.
Lately I have made friends with two ladies who run the local corner store. Eunice and Barbara, two sisters, who sell soap, soda, eggs, flour, and a few other basics, now greet me with a huge smile and welcoming hands whenever I go to the store. This morning as I was exchanging my crate of bottled soda I learned that Barbara lost her husband in 1995 to HIV. She also has HIV but with the help of medications, she has been able to continue teaching and looking after her two children. Praise God there is healing and a chance to continue living and learning. Instead of being destroyed by death and hardships, I thank God that they are able to rebuild their lives.
“for crying and laughing, weeping and dancing,” Again, I thank God that my laughter can bring joy to so many of those who weep. And dancing... boy do the Africans love to dance in church.
“for throwing stones and gathering stones, embracing and parting,” Today I went back to my friend Zima’s tiny cement room to say good-bye. Zima is heading back to Kenya after completing a two month internship in Soroti. I will miss her as she understood me well. We prayed together, shed a few tears, and hugged good-bye. It seems that many of my friendships are only for a season.
“There is a time for finding and losing, keeping and giving, for tearing and sewing, listening and speaking.” I continue to try and figure out who I really am in Uganda. I know that I am being true to God and losing myself to Him, but I am praying for wisdom about how to give even more. What do I stand up for? How can I be Christ’s ambassador the best? To what should I give my time and money to? I am grateful for the times that I have been asked to speak – either to children, students, or adult Bible studies. And daily I try to listen to God’s voice – to hear where He wants me to be.
“There is also a time for love and hate, for war and peace.” I just want to say that I dearly love the Ugandans and my team. I am thankful for my friends who are here with me in Soroti. Together we can stand up against the spiritual battles that war against us and pray for the peace of God to reign.
These are just a few of the thoughts I had while reading Ecclesiastes 3. I hope that time is full of purpose for you and that each day joy and peace will be yours also.
In His Time,
Karen Lubbers
“Everything on earth has its own time and its own season.” Here in Uganda I am confused as to what season it is. I think it is supposed to be rainy season, but it continues to be hot and dry. Also, this is a strange season in my life. I have been Uganda for almost five months and I think I have past the honeymoon season. I find that more and more often I am feeling culturally frustrated, and yet I am feeling more and more at home here.
“There is a time for birth and death, planting and reaping,” Last week I was able to meet precious baby Esther just hours after she was born. I have been there for her first bath, many clothing changes since diapers are almost non-existent or huge, and I gave the family my camera for a week to capture the memories.
Death – well, the pictures of the former LRA soldiers and victims that I helped to collect and place in the mass grave still cross through my mind and I am reminded daily to pray for peace in the Teso area.
Planting and reaping is a constant struggle in this area. Due to the lack of rains the crops are failing and famine is winning. I also hope that the words of my mouth and the meditations of my heart will plant seeds in the lives of the people around me and I pray that God will help me also to walk along side of those who desire to follow HIM.
“for killing and healing, destroying and building,” Too often I have heard stories of children who are neglected and die due to lack of love or food. It saddens me. But I also thank the Lord for places like Amecet – an orphanage that looks after some of these neglected or sick babies.
Lately I have made friends with two ladies who run the local corner store. Eunice and Barbara, two sisters, who sell soap, soda, eggs, flour, and a few other basics, now greet me with a huge smile and welcoming hands whenever I go to the store. This morning as I was exchanging my crate of bottled soda I learned that Barbara lost her husband in 1995 to HIV. She also has HIV but with the help of medications, she has been able to continue teaching and looking after her two children. Praise God there is healing and a chance to continue living and learning. Instead of being destroyed by death and hardships, I thank God that they are able to rebuild their lives.
“for crying and laughing, weeping and dancing,” Again, I thank God that my laughter can bring joy to so many of those who weep. And dancing... boy do the Africans love to dance in church.
“for throwing stones and gathering stones, embracing and parting,” Today I went back to my friend Zima’s tiny cement room to say good-bye. Zima is heading back to Kenya after completing a two month internship in Soroti. I will miss her as she understood me well. We prayed together, shed a few tears, and hugged good-bye. It seems that many of my friendships are only for a season.
“There is a time for finding and losing, keeping and giving, for tearing and sewing, listening and speaking.” I continue to try and figure out who I really am in Uganda. I know that I am being true to God and losing myself to Him, but I am praying for wisdom about how to give even more. What do I stand up for? How can I be Christ’s ambassador the best? To what should I give my time and money to? I am grateful for the times that I have been asked to speak – either to children, students, or adult Bible studies. And daily I try to listen to God’s voice – to hear where He wants me to be.
“There is also a time for love and hate, for war and peace.” I just want to say that I dearly love the Ugandans and my team. I am thankful for my friends who are here with me in Soroti. Together we can stand up against the spiritual battles that war against us and pray for the peace of God to reign.
These are just a few of the thoughts I had while reading Ecclesiastes 3. I hope that time is full of purpose for you and that each day joy and peace will be yours also.
In His Time,
Karen Lubbers
Tea Time Reposted
Twisting off the lid to the thermos, I’m inviting you to sit and have a cup of spiced milk chai with me as I tell you about the latest happenings in my life. No need to add sugar, because it comes already sweetened. And so are the days of my life, each a sweet blessing from the Lord of all, the Great Provider.
December 18th found me on a journey with my dear friend Zima. We were traveling from Uganda to Kenya on an overnight bus. By noon on the 19th I was introduced to her family of 8. They live in a simple wooden home, filled with love, laughter, and conversation, in Chuka – near Mt. Kenya. Zima invited me to spend Christmas and New Year’s with her family. It has been a very peaceful time for me to read, reflect, and pray about the future.
My last few weeks in Uganda were filled with good-byes. Early November I finished teaching precious Lydia Shaarda (Congrats on a First Grade well done!) Then my Sunday school class threw an impromptu party for me – with worship, speeches, presentations, and a meal. Many neighbours dropped by for tea and I had fun delivering home-made Christmas cards to my friends, favourite shops, and work places in Soroti.
Last week I took a three day trip to Mombasa. I couldn’t spend 50 weeks in East Africa and not go Scuba Diving on the coast. It was absolutely worth it.
I hope you’ve been reading my blog to stay updated on delivering goats for an income generating project, or hanging out with many children, or handing out Bibles to my Princesses at the hostel, and so much more. www.karebear-lubbers.blogspot.com
Well, my tea is finished. I need to walk out to the water tap to rinse my cup, but I should first put on a pair of gum boots first because the rain turned the brown clay into very slippery, sticky mud.
May your days also be sweet and filling.
My cup overfloweth,
Karen Lubbers
December 18th found me on a journey with my dear friend Zima. We were traveling from Uganda to Kenya on an overnight bus. By noon on the 19th I was introduced to her family of 8. They live in a simple wooden home, filled with love, laughter, and conversation, in Chuka – near Mt. Kenya. Zima invited me to spend Christmas and New Year’s with her family. It has been a very peaceful time for me to read, reflect, and pray about the future.
My last few weeks in Uganda were filled with good-byes. Early November I finished teaching precious Lydia Shaarda (Congrats on a First Grade well done!) Then my Sunday school class threw an impromptu party for me – with worship, speeches, presentations, and a meal. Many neighbours dropped by for tea and I had fun delivering home-made Christmas cards to my friends, favourite shops, and work places in Soroti.
Last week I took a three day trip to Mombasa. I couldn’t spend 50 weeks in East Africa and not go Scuba Diving on the coast. It was absolutely worth it.
I hope you’ve been reading my blog to stay updated on delivering goats for an income generating project, or hanging out with many children, or handing out Bibles to my Princesses at the hostel, and so much more. www.karebear-lubbers.blogspot.com
Well, my tea is finished. I need to walk out to the water tap to rinse my cup, but I should first put on a pair of gum boots first because the rain turned the brown clay into very slippery, sticky mud.
May your days also be sweet and filling.
My cup overfloweth,
Karen Lubbers
Saturday, June 12, 2010
Watoto
Last night I had the privilege of hearing the Watoto African Children's Choir. These children are all orphans due to HIV Aids, and are now touring the world, singing, to raise money for the Ugandan orphanages they stay in. I had seen them before in concert, but what I didn't expect this time was that a choking sensation would grab my throat the second I walked into the sanctuary and that tears would flow when the kids, in full colour, would start dancing and worshiping God.
Thankfully the tears soon went away so that I could enjoy the moment instead of miss the past. And I began to dance in my seat. It was strange to see a crowd of people listening to such active and alive music remain so calm in their seat. I rocked in my chair, rotating my shoulders, bopping to the left and the right, tapping my feet, and waving my hands.
I also began to feel grateful for my life. Lately I have noticed that many people around me are walking through different stages in their lives. Two 25th wedding anniversaries, two wedding showers, one wedding, one 50th anniversary, nine Professions of Faith, one miscarriage, and three friends with a parent passing away. Most of these are planned events, but in all of them, it is a reminder to trust in God and follow His leading.
I think the tears of last night confirmed that God wants me back in Africa. I friend reminded me the other day that I can't always dream of Africa, that eventually I need to wake up and get on with my day. :) So, since I feel the Lord is still leading my back to East Africa, I am gearing to go back in October, for a couple of weeks anyways and to encourage my friends there. Once there I will continue to pray that I understand the Lord's clear direction.
Thankfully the tears soon went away so that I could enjoy the moment instead of miss the past. And I began to dance in my seat. It was strange to see a crowd of people listening to such active and alive music remain so calm in their seat. I rocked in my chair, rotating my shoulders, bopping to the left and the right, tapping my feet, and waving my hands.
I also began to feel grateful for my life. Lately I have noticed that many people around me are walking through different stages in their lives. Two 25th wedding anniversaries, two wedding showers, one wedding, one 50th anniversary, nine Professions of Faith, one miscarriage, and three friends with a parent passing away. Most of these are planned events, but in all of them, it is a reminder to trust in God and follow His leading.
I think the tears of last night confirmed that God wants me back in Africa. I friend reminded me the other day that I can't always dream of Africa, that eventually I need to wake up and get on with my day. :) So, since I feel the Lord is still leading my back to East Africa, I am gearing to go back in October, for a couple of weeks anyways and to encourage my friends there. Once there I will continue to pray that I understand the Lord's clear direction.
Thursday, June 10, 2010
REM Reflections
Sheer darkness surrounds me. Not a sound can be heard from my bedroom below the earth, in the basement. Knock, Knock, Knock, "Karen". I am awakened from the deepest of REM sleeps by my Mom who is trying to explain that someone from Soroti, Uganda has called at 3:30 in the morning and I am supposed to call him back. I had to call back because this person ran out of shillings just calling to inform me to call him back. Bitterness escapes me first. What, doesn't he understand time differences? Can't we just shut off all the phones in the house until I wake up in a couple of hours? I felt bad that everyone in the house had woken up to the phone ringing except for me.
Mom placed a phone beside my bed and said, "Well, if the phone rings again, you get it." And that sounded like a great plan... except that I couldn't fall back to sleep. My dreams were about licking a salt block and my thoughts were that the phone would ring, so I eventually got up, dug out my telephone book and dialed the number he used to have. Nope, no answer. Try again. Nope. Let's check call display. Oh goody, he has a new number for me to try. By now a half hour has gone by and all I want to do is sleep.
The phone call finally went through to one of my former Sunday school helpers. He asked how Canada and my family were. Then quickly the conversation turned to the Sunday school class. He is overwhelmed with the work that is happening at the church. He told me that the children continue to come in large crowds and he decided to find more helpers and to split the class in two. By now I was getting excited. Yeah, God is good. The children's program is on fire. He wanted me to say some words of encouragement for the kids... so with a quick prayer fired up to heaven, I gave words of blessing that will hopefully brighten the children.
And then my heart begins to break. "Karen, when are you coming back?" I mention that maybe I will be coming to Uganda for a few weeks in October and that I will make sure I come to see the kids at least once. What! "You're not coming back to teach? What do you want me to tell the children?" I couldn't help wondering if all along he thought I was coming back to take over the class again. I think it is absolutely amazing that the class has doubled in size and that God's Word is still being shared with the children week after week. Those children don't need me, they have amazing leaders already. I tried to share my excitement for him to him, but the phone call awkwardly ended. He said, "Well, I don't have much else to say, so have a good day. God bless." And that was it.
I struggled to refind sleep as I pondered what the Lord is doing in Soroti. I miss it dearly, but if I go back, I have this strange feeling that God has different plans for me there. I just need to wait and trust and leave everything into God's hands... and awww, sleep is found.
Mom placed a phone beside my bed and said, "Well, if the phone rings again, you get it." And that sounded like a great plan... except that I couldn't fall back to sleep. My dreams were about licking a salt block and my thoughts were that the phone would ring, so I eventually got up, dug out my telephone book and dialed the number he used to have. Nope, no answer. Try again. Nope. Let's check call display. Oh goody, he has a new number for me to try. By now a half hour has gone by and all I want to do is sleep.
The phone call finally went through to one of my former Sunday school helpers. He asked how Canada and my family were. Then quickly the conversation turned to the Sunday school class. He is overwhelmed with the work that is happening at the church. He told me that the children continue to come in large crowds and he decided to find more helpers and to split the class in two. By now I was getting excited. Yeah, God is good. The children's program is on fire. He wanted me to say some words of encouragement for the kids... so with a quick prayer fired up to heaven, I gave words of blessing that will hopefully brighten the children.
And then my heart begins to break. "Karen, when are you coming back?" I mention that maybe I will be coming to Uganda for a few weeks in October and that I will make sure I come to see the kids at least once. What! "You're not coming back to teach? What do you want me to tell the children?" I couldn't help wondering if all along he thought I was coming back to take over the class again. I think it is absolutely amazing that the class has doubled in size and that God's Word is still being shared with the children week after week. Those children don't need me, they have amazing leaders already. I tried to share my excitement for him to him, but the phone call awkwardly ended. He said, "Well, I don't have much else to say, so have a good day. God bless." And that was it.
I struggled to refind sleep as I pondered what the Lord is doing in Soroti. I miss it dearly, but if I go back, I have this strange feeling that God has different plans for me there. I just need to wait and trust and leave everything into God's hands... and awww, sleep is found.
Tuesday, June 1, 2010
Japan 2003
Here is a little memory of something that happened years ago:
While serving in the Philippines I decided to fly to Japan to hang out with my amazing cousin, Judy, and her husband, for Christmas and New Year’s. They were teaching English in Kochi, many hours south of Osaka, on a different island and I was volunteering with a mission agency in the Philippines. We decided that it would be fun to meet in Japan for Christmas and New Year’s. A friend in Manila helped me to organize plane tickets, but just hours before leaving, news arrived that she had confused the hours of my departure. I would be flying out of Manila at 6 pm instead of 4 pm and that would mean I miss the overnight train I was supposed to take from Osaka to Kochi.
After a few moments of frustration, my team-mates all met me at the local airport to pray with me before I flew up to Manila. Being surrounded by friends who cared, and giving it all to God, allowed peace to reign in my heart. I flew up to Manila, transferred over to the international airport, and called Phil and Judy to let them know that I didn’t know when I would be arriving in Kochi. I was still rather nervous because I had always heard that Japan is super expensive and I didn’t want to spend a night in Osaka that was unplanned. Thankfully though, I continued to give it to God, knowing He was in control.
The scheduled five hour flight took only four and a half hours, so I thought maybe I had a chance. The train station is connected to the International airport, so I thought there would be no problems. Upon arriving I raced over to the trains and could not find a single English speaking person anywhere. The only way to buy a train ticket was through an ATM machine. Normally I wouldn’t mind, but I couldn’t read Japanese characters, so I had no idea how to get to Kyoto, which is a main train station, about 15 minutes away, where I could catch the overnight train. It took me close to 20 minutes to find someone who could speak English and who was willing to help me purchase a ticket to Kyoto.
I took the tram train to Kyoto and arrived just 17 minutes after the overnight train departed to Kochi. Bummer! There were some short conductors on the platforms, directing people where to go. I asked some of them how to get to Kochi, and the only English they knew was “Sorry ma’am, you missed the train.” I knew that already. I wanted to know when the next train was... does it leave in the morning? Does the train only go every night at 11 pm? Repeatedly they said “Sorry ma’am, you missed the train!”
Slowly I started taking more and more layers of clothing out of my backpack and putting them on, because I was freezing. Japan was much colder than the Philippines. The ticket booths had closed for the night and I didn’t know where else to go. I started making myself at home on the platform, thinking I would spend the night there. Two hours past, the number of trains leaving the station came to a crawling halt and the number of conductors greatly decreased. Just after 1 am one of these dainty conductor men motioned for me to follow him. Warily I followed, somewhat out of boredom, somewhat out of curiosity.
We exited the platform through a single door and started meandering our way through tunnels and down staircases. In my head I was reprimanding myself for being so naive and following him, but I also felt that there just might be a light at the end of this tunnel. Moments later we stepped inside a warm office room, with a small sitting area and a row of computers. Twelve or so computers, each with a person behind them, filled the room. Ah! This must be the central hub for the train organization. I sat on one of the big cushy chairs that were pointed out to me and waited. Soon a young man came to greet me... a young man who spoke English. Once again I said, “Thank you God!” He wanted to know how he could help me.
I explained my situation and my desire to get to Kochi as soon as possible. This kind man disappeared for about five minutes while I tried to keep my eyes open. I was exhausted. He returned with a smart looking schedule for me. The train would depart at 5:20 am and should arrive shortly after 10 am. He went the extra mile for me because the trip had four transfers and the Japanese characters on the printout did little to help me. Delightfully, this young man translated everything. He wrote all over the schedule: what time the train would arrive, and on which platform; how many minutes I had before the train departed from another platform, etc. Yeah! I asked him if I could take a three hour nap in the chair I was sitting in before heading back up to the platform and he said, “Sure!”
At 5 a.m. I found my way back up to the platform with my beautifully planned schedule in hand. I just needed to purchase a ticket. There was a man sitting in the ticket booth, but when I approached he said that the booth wasn’t open until 5:30. Problem! My train leaves at 5:20 a.m. He motioned for me to exit the turnstiles and silly me – I did. That brought me to ticket machines with characters I once again couldn’t read. Frustrated, I started asking people if they spoke English. I couldn’t find anyone, but two young ladies came tiptoeing over to see how they could help. They quickly made their way over to the man in the booth with my schedule, but he shook his head repeatedly, and the girls shrugged their shoulders as they returned the schedule to me.
At 5:19 a.m. the man in the ticket booth comes dashing out, punches a stamp on my schedule and brings me through the turnstiles, down to the trains, and puts me on a train. The doors close and I am on my way. I knew I was on the right train, but totally confused about what just happened. Arriving at the next station I made my way over to the now open ticket booths and ended up paying for all the trains I was supposed to take that morning. I was delighted.
I spent most of the morning checking out gorgeous countryside. I didn’t have time to call Judy because the stopovers were such a short time, so I just relaxed, knowing that God was taking care of everything. On my fifth and final train there was a little boy who decided to become my friend. He tried to teach me Japanese words for every appendage on my face. He giggled when I recorded him on my video camera and then played it back to him. With a half hour left on my journey, the little boy’s mother turned around in her seat in front of me and thanked me in clear English for entertaining her son. We chatted for a while. She explained how they were traveling to Kochi to tour the many Hindu temples in the area and she showed me her intricately carved prayer walking stick.
To my surprise, she said, “This morning I went to the market and asked for two boiled eggs, so that we could have breakfast on our journey. The egg vendor forced me to take three eggs for the price of two, and now I know why. Will you share breakfast with us?” Absolutely! Together we ate and chatted until the train pulled in to the Kochi station. I found a pay phone and easily connected with a screaming Judy, who was excited that I was only 10 minutes away. Soon our happy reunion began. Praise God!
While serving in the Philippines I decided to fly to Japan to hang out with my amazing cousin, Judy, and her husband, for Christmas and New Year’s. They were teaching English in Kochi, many hours south of Osaka, on a different island and I was volunteering with a mission agency in the Philippines. We decided that it would be fun to meet in Japan for Christmas and New Year’s. A friend in Manila helped me to organize plane tickets, but just hours before leaving, news arrived that she had confused the hours of my departure. I would be flying out of Manila at 6 pm instead of 4 pm and that would mean I miss the overnight train I was supposed to take from Osaka to Kochi.
After a few moments of frustration, my team-mates all met me at the local airport to pray with me before I flew up to Manila. Being surrounded by friends who cared, and giving it all to God, allowed peace to reign in my heart. I flew up to Manila, transferred over to the international airport, and called Phil and Judy to let them know that I didn’t know when I would be arriving in Kochi. I was still rather nervous because I had always heard that Japan is super expensive and I didn’t want to spend a night in Osaka that was unplanned. Thankfully though, I continued to give it to God, knowing He was in control.
The scheduled five hour flight took only four and a half hours, so I thought maybe I had a chance. The train station is connected to the International airport, so I thought there would be no problems. Upon arriving I raced over to the trains and could not find a single English speaking person anywhere. The only way to buy a train ticket was through an ATM machine. Normally I wouldn’t mind, but I couldn’t read Japanese characters, so I had no idea how to get to Kyoto, which is a main train station, about 15 minutes away, where I could catch the overnight train. It took me close to 20 minutes to find someone who could speak English and who was willing to help me purchase a ticket to Kyoto.
I took the tram train to Kyoto and arrived just 17 minutes after the overnight train departed to Kochi. Bummer! There were some short conductors on the platforms, directing people where to go. I asked some of them how to get to Kochi, and the only English they knew was “Sorry ma’am, you missed the train.” I knew that already. I wanted to know when the next train was... does it leave in the morning? Does the train only go every night at 11 pm? Repeatedly they said “Sorry ma’am, you missed the train!”
Slowly I started taking more and more layers of clothing out of my backpack and putting them on, because I was freezing. Japan was much colder than the Philippines. The ticket booths had closed for the night and I didn’t know where else to go. I started making myself at home on the platform, thinking I would spend the night there. Two hours past, the number of trains leaving the station came to a crawling halt and the number of conductors greatly decreased. Just after 1 am one of these dainty conductor men motioned for me to follow him. Warily I followed, somewhat out of boredom, somewhat out of curiosity.
We exited the platform through a single door and started meandering our way through tunnels and down staircases. In my head I was reprimanding myself for being so naive and following him, but I also felt that there just might be a light at the end of this tunnel. Moments later we stepped inside a warm office room, with a small sitting area and a row of computers. Twelve or so computers, each with a person behind them, filled the room. Ah! This must be the central hub for the train organization. I sat on one of the big cushy chairs that were pointed out to me and waited. Soon a young man came to greet me... a young man who spoke English. Once again I said, “Thank you God!” He wanted to know how he could help me.
I explained my situation and my desire to get to Kochi as soon as possible. This kind man disappeared for about five minutes while I tried to keep my eyes open. I was exhausted. He returned with a smart looking schedule for me. The train would depart at 5:20 am and should arrive shortly after 10 am. He went the extra mile for me because the trip had four transfers and the Japanese characters on the printout did little to help me. Delightfully, this young man translated everything. He wrote all over the schedule: what time the train would arrive, and on which platform; how many minutes I had before the train departed from another platform, etc. Yeah! I asked him if I could take a three hour nap in the chair I was sitting in before heading back up to the platform and he said, “Sure!”
At 5 a.m. I found my way back up to the platform with my beautifully planned schedule in hand. I just needed to purchase a ticket. There was a man sitting in the ticket booth, but when I approached he said that the booth wasn’t open until 5:30. Problem! My train leaves at 5:20 a.m. He motioned for me to exit the turnstiles and silly me – I did. That brought me to ticket machines with characters I once again couldn’t read. Frustrated, I started asking people if they spoke English. I couldn’t find anyone, but two young ladies came tiptoeing over to see how they could help. They quickly made their way over to the man in the booth with my schedule, but he shook his head repeatedly, and the girls shrugged their shoulders as they returned the schedule to me.
At 5:19 a.m. the man in the ticket booth comes dashing out, punches a stamp on my schedule and brings me through the turnstiles, down to the trains, and puts me on a train. The doors close and I am on my way. I knew I was on the right train, but totally confused about what just happened. Arriving at the next station I made my way over to the now open ticket booths and ended up paying for all the trains I was supposed to take that morning. I was delighted.
I spent most of the morning checking out gorgeous countryside. I didn’t have time to call Judy because the stopovers were such a short time, so I just relaxed, knowing that God was taking care of everything. On my fifth and final train there was a little boy who decided to become my friend. He tried to teach me Japanese words for every appendage on my face. He giggled when I recorded him on my video camera and then played it back to him. With a half hour left on my journey, the little boy’s mother turned around in her seat in front of me and thanked me in clear English for entertaining her son. We chatted for a while. She explained how they were traveling to Kochi to tour the many Hindu temples in the area and she showed me her intricately carved prayer walking stick.
To my surprise, she said, “This morning I went to the market and asked for two boiled eggs, so that we could have breakfast on our journey. The egg vendor forced me to take three eggs for the price of two, and now I know why. Will you share breakfast with us?” Absolutely! Together we ate and chatted until the train pulled in to the Kochi station. I found a pay phone and easily connected with a screaming Judy, who was excited that I was only 10 minutes away. Soon our happy reunion began. Praise God!
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