10 Things I Learned in NA

1. It's okay to litter if you make the nationals do it.

2. Check the trees for pigeons before you sit down.

3. Where there's one beggar kid, there's three, especially next to the ice cream stand.

4. Einstein went to the moon.

5. Vampires can have souls.

6. Try avocado + orange + strawberry juice.

7. Crossing the street can make death seem commonplace

8. There may be cereal, but you can't buy it because it doesn't exist. (Store Manager: "I wonder why we have so much of this cereal...?")

9. I can live in a foreign country.

10. God's everywhere.

Just Jump Already

This is the third largest mosque in the world. It also functions as a lighthouse just in case a ship really wanted to run into it.

It's threatening to fall into the ocean but, like California, it doesn't have the decency to actually go through with it.

In Other News

In other news, I'm safe and sound in my own home basement. I got here yesterday morning after being stuck in JFK airport for the second in time in two months. We missed our flight (yes, again) and rebooked. I rebooked straight home (yay!) but my luggage ended up going to Atlanta (not yay) but it some how got to Columbus before me anyway (confused yay!) and was waiting at the luggage counter. It was a little worse for wear (let's say, I now need a new suitcase) but all my stuff was intact so I can't say anything.

I have a couple things left from the trip that I'd like to write about, but after that I'm not sure what I'll do with this blog. I'd like to continue it, but I'm afraid I don't have the most exciting of a life when I'm not in Morocco. We'll see.

Go with God
--Mira

I'm Still Alive

I hate crowds. At night, the Medina here is the ultimate crowd: noisy, confusing, and colorful. It's what the movies imagine as a desert city with snake charmers and belly dancers (some of whom are actually men, veils are such convenient things) and all sorts of stallkeepers that would be very happy to rip you off. It's a great place to go once and then remember later.

Go with God
--Mira

On the Road Again

Tomorrow early (very early, far too early, ie: before 8:00 in the morning) we're headed off across country by train. I don't know if I'll have net access in any form whatsoever. So if I'm quiet for the next week, I'm not dead!

          

This was my one and only English student, the cute one. Please pray for her soul!

Fashion

(This was written to fulfill a requirement for my internship, but it might be interesting to normal people.)

I feel underdressed in here. In this country, a woman’s clothes define her. Does she wear a head covering? Does she wear three-quarter sleeves and no head covering, but a skirt? Does she wear a shirt that comes to her knees or shorter or too short? What does a good Muslim wear?

The answer is: a good Muslim here wears almost anything she wants as long it follows her own convictions or helps her get a good job. A university student here told me that in order to get a good job in business you cannot wear a head covering and that no woman working in the military is allowed to wear a head covering.

The good thing is that women are allowed to work here. They are allowed to get a good education, although they are mostly limited (or limit themselves) to business degrees. Every college-age girl I have met here has been taking a degree in business. On the other hand, getting a higher education seems to be one of the only directions toward work here. Almost every shop owner is a man, even in woman’s clothing stores. I have met only three or four women shopkeepers here. Although on the train ride in I did see women working in the field alongside the men. The rich women work because they can get an education, the poor work in the fields outside the city work because they have to.

Head coverings seem to be the all important part of Islam for a girl here. They all say that the Koran says they must wear one. (Although it does not actually) But some don't wear them anyway. My university student friend told me that yes, she was supposed to wear a head covering, but her parents had never made her and she still believed in God so she was 'okay'.

Despite the king’s reforms for women (including mandatory seats in the parliament, citizenship transferable from mother to children, and the near outlaw of polygamy), despite better educations, and better jobs, the women here still long for a husband. Instilled in them is the idea that only being a wife will fulfill their lives. I met a lady in her early thirties. She was sitting on a low wall waiting for the man she had met on holiday only a week ago. Already he had asked her to marry him. Even though she had a good job as an English teacher and even though she had been successful in life without a husband she was seriously considering marrying a man she had only just met. She did not love him, but she would marry him simply for the stability that a husband still provides in this society.

Women’s rights in government and society may be progressing, but the women themselves still cling to their traditions. Generations of Islam have made them feel safer with a home and family. Even though their clothing and their head covering may be their choice many women here still dress according to their religious values. This country might want its women to be progressive, but the women here will continue to be bound in tradition so long as they are still Muslims.

My Worship Center is Bigger Than Yours

                         

Coincidentally, the largest mosque in the city is right across the street from the largest Catholic church in the city.

Sunset

Maybe someday I'll make these pictures look decent.

              

              

I like the roof.

What They Expect

 

 

Right now I can hear the call to prayer. Five times a day, no matter where I am, I hear the call to prayer. It's the overwhelming symbol of the difference between this country and the U.S.A. Everyday I'm reminded that this country isn't free. This country is Muslim and to be a citizen of this country is to be Muslim. The people here are born Muslims, live Muslims, and die Muslims. They have no choice.

In this country, I would be born to Muslims and born a Muslim. The government would expect me to be a Muslim. My neighbors would expect me to be a Muslim. My parents would expect me to be a Muslim. No matter how much of a rebel I was, I would never not be a Muslim. Goth, emo, gay, no matter what I was, I would be a Muslim. The call to prayer is just a reminder that the world expects every citizen to pray five times a day, in effect, to be a Muslim. Everyone expects everyone to be a Muslim.

In America, we have a choice. I was born to Christians, but I wasn't born a Christian. The government didn't expect me to be a Christian. My neighbors didn't expect me to be a Christian. My parents encouraged me to be a Christian, they hoped I would be a Christian, but they didn't expect me to be a Christian. No one expects me to be Christian.

But what if everyone expected you to be a Christian? The Puritans were the foundation on which our country was built. They were good, pious people and they based the government of their cities on biblical principles. But their government had a fatal flaw. Only a Christian member of the church could be a full citizen. At first that doesn't sound like a bad thing and at first it wasn't, but as more and more diverse peoples came to America and as generations of Puritans were born the cracks in mandatory religion began to show.

If someone wanted full rights, they had to join the church, so many outsiders claimed to be Christians in order to make a living in the new world. Not only that, but as the Puritans had children not all of them truly became Christians. In the end the Puritan's instituted a half-way law. If you were born to Christian parents, you could be a member of the church with partial privileges, after all, if you had Christian parents than you must be at least half a Christian. You lived here, you must be a be a Christian.

In other words, people were expected to be Christians.

But the beauty of Christianity is that it involves a choice. A Christian comes to God of his own free will, because Christianity isn't a religion, it's a relationship. When that relationship is mandatory then it's no longer truly a relationship. Being a Christian is about what we accept, not what we expect.

Thankfully our founding fathers understood the mistake the Puritans made and wove freedom of religion deep into the Constitution. But imagine if they hadn't. Or imagine if our founding fathers had been Muslim.

Imagine if there were nowhere in America we couldn't hear the call to prayer.

Go with God
--Mira

Eye See You

 

Sometimes you see the food and sometimes the food sees you.

Petition

Please pray for the brother of one of my teammates. He was in a motorcycle accident back in the States. He's fine, but his foot is pretty mangled. Also pray for my teammate that she won't worry herself to death!

You Are Here

                 

                 

If this were the other way around and actually Africa, I'd be very close to where that pigeon is.

Between the Dead and the Living Dead

Today we stood between the dead and the living dead. Behind us centuries of decaying bones, before us millions of decaying lives. From a graveyard we overlooked a city full of people dead in sin, dead in idolatry, dead in a lie.

Eph 2:1 "And you hath he quickened, who were dead in trespasses and sins."

The only difference between the living of this city and the dead is that the people here have a chance. They only lack messangers.

Rom. 10: 14b, c "And how shall they believe in him of whom they have not heard? and how shall they hear without a preacher?"

This city of more than of a million is lost and next to no one stands between them and a graveyard of eternal damnation. Meanwhile, hundreds of thousands of Christians are spending their lives on legitimate ministries, but ignoring a needier field.

Ezek. 22:30 "And I sought for a man among them, that should make up the hedge, and stand in the gap before me for the land, that I should not destroy it: but I found none."

Is there a man who will stand between this one city, or any city like it, and the grave?

Go with God
--Mira

Independence Day

Today is the Fourth of July, an important day for all Americans wherever their feet may rest, for today is our Independence Day. Today we left Mother England and began to govern ourselves. Usually I'd be eating brats and waiting for the neighbors to shoot off illegal fireworks, but there's no Independence Day here, at least, not for the country itself. But every Christian has an Independence Day of his own.

Some of us declared the day when we were very small, some of us waited a very long time, but that doesn't make the day any less special. Every one us been given liberty through Christ. The entire book of Galatians was written to remind us of that liberty. Gal. 5:1 says, "Stand fast therefore in the liberty wherewith Christ hath made us free, and be not again entangled again with the yoke of bondage."

We've been released from the bondage of season. Made free by the blood of lamb. But by becoming free we became bondslaves of Christ. (Rom. 6:18 "Being made free from sin, ye became the servants of righteousness.") Some might wonder how you can call trading one slavery for another slavery, liberty. But in Jewish law a man might give himself as an eternal bondservant to his master. His ear was bored through with an awl and through his own choice become a slave. He became a trusted servant. Like Joseph in Potpher's house, the Christian may be a slave, but he has all the liberty and the power of his master behind him. (Rom. 6:22 "But now being made free from sin, and become servants to God, ye have your fruit unto holiness, and the end everlasting.") Without our Master we are nothing. With our Master we are everything. Our slavery becomes our liberty.

When America became a country we left a government behind, but we replaced it with a better government. We went from one master to a better master. When I became a Christian I left sin behind and was given a better Master. The day that happened is my Independence Day.

Do you have an Independence Day?

Go with God
-Mira

Undercover Agent

by Jamie

Ever wonder what it would be like to be an undercover secret agent? Let me tell you!

My digital camera that I bought just before the trip has really been getting a workout. Taking pictures of our group is never a problem, but I have learned that the people here don't like being photographed, so it makes it really hard to take pictures of the city and streets without making people nervous and upset. Our team "Master"mind gave me a great idea. The next time I went out to one of the open-air vegetable/fruit markets I put on my sun glasses, turned off the flash on my camera, and muted all the sound effects. No clicking, no flashing. I held it at my side and casually sauntered down the street snapping pictures right in front of my unsuspecting subjects! It took me a few practice shots to get my angle right, but some of the pictures turned out great!

I'm not the only one with a knack for the sneaky. One other member of our team has shown great talent as well. To start the story off from the beginning . . . I and one of the other girls on the team made a cultural observation very early on in the trip. We observed that all the young, trying-to-be-hot guys that you pass on the street all seem to waft by on a wave of very strong, very good smelling cologne.  We both wanted to buy some for family back home, but didn't have clue what to buy. What were we to do--stop some guy on the street and ask him what cologne he was wearing? NO! Rather, we enlisted(conscripted might be a better word) the aid of one of the guys on the team, a most resourceful fellow who desires to be referred to as "Agent X." One day, my friend noticed that one of Agent X's English students was wearing the coveted cologne and ordered him to find out what it was. So, Agent X cleverly made "cologne" one of the day's vocabulary words and then casually asked,

"Soooo, what cologne do you wear?"

MISSION ACCOMPLISHED

I am now the happy possessor of a bottle of Madidni cologne!

This trip is definitely work, but the moments of hilarity come often!

Summery

I have a new student in my hallway class. She's eleven and she's very cute. She seemed to pick things up fairly well considering she knows no English at all, only her alphabet and that because she's been taking French.

In other news I went to the beach yesterday, fought with waves, and turned a very nice shade of red. As my Spanish-speaking friends says, "Chica roja!"

But in All...

The city we're staying in has taken the language of its country and mutated it in strange and random ways. Our personal language expert loves to point out all of the ways the city's version of the language is different from the language in the rest of the country. It's difficult to explain, but the following is how I imagine this situation in America. All apologies to anyone who actually lives in Snailville.

[A native of Snailville, U.S.A is having a conversation with a foreigner, while a Language Expert from a near by city listens in]

Native Speaker: So I was gonna go plant me some haryus, but you kn--

Innocent Bystander: [Interrupting] Pardon me, my good fellow, but what is an 'haryu'? I really don't believe I 'ave ever 'eard that word before.

Language Expert: [Hears the question and strolls over] Perhaps I can help. Here in Snailville they say 'haryu,' but in all America they say carrot.

IB: [Nods his head slowly] I see, please do continue.

NS: The cold kinda stuck 'round late like. It's May an' I still can't open me powers.

IB: [Looks shocked] Your... powers? I say, old chap, perhaps you forgot your 'lectric bill?

NS: [Seems insulted] Of course not!

LE: Here in Snailville they say 'power' which means 'might' or 'strength,' but in all America they say 'window".

IB: Quite good, thank you.

NS: So I'm wonderin' 'bout meh succhini

LE: [Is stumped himself. Lifts his eyebrows] You mean your zucchini.

NS: No, meh succhini.

LE: But in all America they say zucchini...

NS: Well, hereabouts we say succhini!

IB: [Confused] Succhini?

LE: No, succhini means 'bald.' Succhini seems to mean 'zucchini,' but only in Snailville, not in all America.

IB: [Still confused] Succhini...

LE: No, no! Succhini means 'bottle'.

IB: Succhini means 'bald', succhini means 'bottle', and succhini means 'zucchini'?

LE: Yes, in Snailville, but in all America--

[In the middle of the Language Expert's sentence the Innocent Bystander wanders off in a daze, muttering incoherently that it is time for tea.]

Go with God
-Mira

Jalopa

                                 

This is a jalopa, the national dress here. This is my souvenir for the trip.

My God Splits Moons

Did you know that Einstein went to the moon and discovered that at some point it had been split in half? Afterwards he exclaimed, "I must find the religion in which the moon was split in half!" He discovered it was Islam, converted instantly, and lived happily ever after!

At least, so one of my friends told me in a very sincere tone. Granted, her English isn't perfect and we already had her fairly confused. I hope she realizes that Einstein didn't really go to the moon.

We didn't try to argue with her. What she really wanted to know is: "Mohammed got God to split the moon. Did your Jesus do anything that left evidence?" A sort of 'my dad's taller than your dad' view of theology. At first we found her question discouraging. After all, Jesus never split the moon. (As if creating it in the first place wasn't enough.) But the more the other girls and I thought about it, the more we realized that our God doesn't need to split moons. Our God is a personal God. He's never flashy unless He needs to be. Splitting the moon serves no purpose. When Jesus was on earth He proved His deity and His mission by helping people, by healing and comforting, not by flexing His godly muscles. Now that He's gone He proves Himself the same way. Jesus proves Himself by taking drug-dealers and race car drivers and molding them into preachers and servants. He takes recluses and makes them missionaries. He turns wretches into His children.

If Islam did that than I wouldn't have shut my ears to the catcalls and comments of the men here. I wouldn't have to count my change every time I bought something. I wouldn't be afraid to walk by myself through the city at night. I wouldn't have to the cringe a little every September the 11th. Everyone here is a Muslim so if Islam changes lives like Christianity changes lives, there would be no War and everyone would want to live in the Middle East.

Her prophet Mohammed might have gotten God to split the moon. But my Jesus is the God that changes hearts.

Go with God
--Mira

Closed

Friday's are frustrating here. Yesterday a few of the girls tried to go down to the shopping area of the city. It's really a good place to meet women without seeming like you're trying to talk to random people even though you are. But everything was closed! It was the middle of the afternoon and the streets were empty. Typically a few a places close in the afternoon, but not the entire city. But yesterday was Friday, the holy day here, and those that don't pray even once a day become suddenly religious when they can take an afternoon and legitimately goof off. Almost like Sunday in the U.S. of A.

Go with God
-Mira

The Mission

If I told you where we were yesterday, I'd have to kill you.

                     

This country has its jewels.

                    

This is a rock with monkeys on it.

                    

This is me high over the place I refuse to name. 

Teamwork

Islam is a religion that needs a team to work against it. Because the women and the men are so segregated its difficult for a man to effectively witness to a woman and vis versa. Here a missionary almost requires a wife, not only to provide the support he needs, but to witness to the half of the population he could never reach. I'm not saying it would be impossible for a man to work in a Muslim society, but it would be inefficient. This place needs a husband-wife team.

Mirinda

         

Ice cream here is cryptic. It all comes in shades of brown. You can have reddish brown--that's caramel or orange-brown (peach) or cream (vanilla) or yellow brown (...anana? *shrug*) or green-brown (pistachio) and so on. But it makes up for its crypticness (no, that's not a word) by being very tasty.

                   

They spelled it wrong.

A Mix

Yesterday three of us girls crawled all over the Medina with three contacts, two girls and a guy. We drank mint tea on a terrace overlooking the Mediterranian. The mint tea here is three-quarters suger and one quarter mint leaf. I'm not sure where they fit the water in.

The guy was highly intelligent and spoke English very well, but all he knew about Americans he had learned from television. He seemed very willing to listen to us, though. Although he brushed off Christianity by saying his religion was the 'best'. How can you counter an arguement like that?

The girls were more interested in teaching us Arabic than discussing spiritual matters.

Never believe Nigerians if they say they only know one song and can't sing.

The guys are cooking lunch right now. Should we be scared?

Question of the day: What is this bird? Inquiring minds want to know.

Spider-man Rugs

Obviously these rugs were meant for Spider-man.

In other news, I guess the girl I met a couple days ago must not think I'm too strange. We've been emailing back and forth. I'm glad, emailing is my kind of relationship building communication.

Tortuga

This turtle lives on the roof of an eight story. The poor thing is subject to many lets-see-if-turtles-really-can-turn-themselves-back-over experiments.

Girls mostly come in pairs around here. One talky one and quiet one. We made friends with a pair yesterday. I stood to the side and talked with the quiet one. Or tried to. She spoke 'okay' English. Hopefully we're meeting the loud one on Saturday...

Pumpkin Moon

The moon rises great and orange over the city.

The English Teacher

We call her our 'English Teacher' because we can't pronounce her name. We met her the first time we went out with fliers for our English class. She's a Morrocan English teacher and she speaks better English than I do and with only a little accent. And fast! She speaks at a race car pace! She seems to be very interested in us and stopped by the school last night to look around and say hello.

People here are generally very friendly. Especially if you tell them you're trying to learn about their culture and they delight in talking, talking, talking even if you can't understand a word they're saying. It's all the same to them.

Go with God
-Mira

Klingon

Arabic sounds like Klingon only angrier and looks like lace only squigglier. Neither of these is comphrensible to the gentle straight-edged Western mind. Today we learned numbers, days, and months. That is to say, I learned numbers, days, and months, but my feeble mind failed to grasp and hold onto them. I know more then I did... I know the word for 'read'. As in, stupid English speaker, read the stupid book!

Go with God
-Mira

Cats

This city is full of cats. You can't turn around without stepping on a cat. You can't eat without a skin-and-bones feline eyeing you and your food hungrily. There can't be any rodents in this city, there's far too many cats for that! At the Medina, lean cats that claim kin with ancient cat ancestors stalk amongst the shiny junk. At the market cats sit as close to the stalls as possible, sniffing the aroma of bloody, still scaley, whole, indentifiably generic fish. They crawl under our feet in the streets, they flit about the apartments like only a cat can. No matter how disadvantaged and starved the cats are, they not the people, own this city.

Sorry!

My internet access was sketchy for a few days, but I should be able to get on pretty regularly now. Here's what's happened since I got here.

I slept...
And slept...

And slept...

And slept...

And yes... slept...

On Friday we walked to the Medina. That's the old part of every Morrocan city. It's full of marvelous doors and shopkeepers that can really claim to have wares.

We went to some Roman graves, which are really just holes in the ground. They're graves with a great view of the Mediterranian though if that's what your looking for in a permament retirement home!

Saturday we rode the buses around and then walked... a lot! But we saw the Catholic church (grandfathered in) and the Mosque. And we walked through the market. Very awesome. So many fruits!

Sunday was more walking and handing out fliers.

Today so far... Arabic lessons... HARD....

Go with God

-Mira

Over There

Heya gentlereaders! I'm over there now. We were stuck in the airport forever. We missed our flight in NY and had to wait a day. Then our next flight was delayed nearly six hours and then when we got here our luggage wasn't! We still don't have it, but hopefully we will soon.
I'm in a net cafe so no pictures right, but later there will be many. Main thing is-I'm alive!

Go with God
-Mira

NYC

So we missed our flight. I'm just going to say: It wasn't our fault. We did everything mortally possible to get to that plane. Oh well! Atleast we didn't stay in the airport. A pastor here in NYC let us stay at his church for the night. We slept on the floor, but who cares? We had hot showers!

It's a really awesome old church. It has a real pipe organ and it's tucked in-between apartments, with its own little slice of green. Probably the only piece of grass for blocks.

...and there are pigeons in this airport.

Wagons Hoh!

We're headed out tomorrow! Pray for all of us that we have safe travel...

Lessons

Today was a lot of learning. We learned a lot about what we're going to be doing in North Africa, about the culture and such. We got to talk to the missionary's wife. It was very interesting to hear how different the culture is between men and women. Obviously, that's something of interest to the media and they like to harp it, but I don't think they really understand how much the men and women have developed such dissimilar ways of life.

Oppression

Being a wife and mother isn't oppression. Submission to your husband isn't oppression. Wearing a skirt isn't oppression.

Having to stand behind a screen so the men can't see you. Having to cover every part of your body lest you cause the men to sin. Never leaving the home, never getting an education because you're considered inferior. That's oppression.

Being in a religion with no hope of salvation, stuck in a repetitive cycle of prayers and rituals based on folklore, word of mouth, and a religion corrupted by centuries of selfishness and politics.

That's oppression.

A Morrocan Meal

No pictures today and a rather short post. (I have a cold. Please pray for it to disappear before I have to fly out!)

We ate Morrocan food for lunch, Morrocan style, which means we ate useing pieces of bread and our hands... our right hands. (I'm left-handed)

Try this: Sit down at a table and eat a meal without utensils with your weak hand.

It was good food, but hard to eat!

Temples

Why would you build a work of art dedicated to a religion based on uncertainty? We visited two temples today. One was a Buddist temple, which was just in a normal building, but the second was a Hindu temple. It was beautiful, stainless white with intricately carved pieces set together like a puzzle, solid without any metal reinforcing. But it was a white seplchure for a dead religion. In this case a sect of Hinduism that bases its worship around a Hindu reformer called Swaminarayan, a recent addition to the Hindu gods. Or rather the incarnation of the one god as the Hindu guide explained to us. One of the few things he could explain. It seems to be a small very liberal sect of Hinduism. Like more liberal Christians they embrace all religions. After all, we all worship the same god, we just called it by differant names!

...don't we?

I Cor. 10:20

"But I say, that the things which the Gentiles sacrifice, they sacrifice to devils, and not to God: and I would not that ye should have fellowship with devils."

Deut 4:35

"Unto thee it was shewed, that thou mightest know that the LORD he is God; there is none else beside him."

The Braves Won...

Went door-to-door today in a neighborhood that had a sampling of probably every third-world country. I actually got to have some good conversations with several. There was one older boy that seemed very interested in the gospel. We were using a pamphlet for Muslims that uses the first three chapters of Genesis and the life of Adam to present that plan of salvation. A great example of how the good news is written in almost every word of that wonderful Book.

And we went to a baseball game and the Braves won.

Vision Baptist

You find churches in the most unusual places. This one is in an office park, which turns out to be the perfect place for a church! Once you're inside you forget that you're in a neighborhood full of offices.

Clapping

The oddest sound I have ever heard in an airport is clapping. What do you clap for in an airport? I was wandering around the Atlanta airport trying to decide which of the two million luggage pick up points my luggage was going to be coming to when I heard the beginning of a wave, a wave of a clapping and whistles and cheers. I paused my search and turned to see... a parade? Not a parade, but a line of soldiers led by a USO with a banner and as they passed people clapped.
And I clapped too.
We tend to forget our troops. They're not part of our daily lives. They're not something we think of. The war 'over there' has been pushed out of the news by celebrities and the elections. 9/11 is a blurry piece of history. It's all to far away from us and I include me in that us. That parade of soldiers reminded me that those soldiers are still out there. It isn't a time of peace and we shouldn't treat it like it is.

In other news, I'm safe and sound in Atlanta. I'm staying with a very nice family and attending a camp at Vision Baptist Church. They're great people, very enthusiastic and I feel right at home!

-- In Christ

Hopefully...

...this blog will give people a little window into my missions trip this summer. Whether I have time or not to update is another matter altogether. If I am able to keep this up, I think more people who want to keep track of me will get more satisfaction then if I had to remember to email all of them--the people that is.