12. // 13.

Thursday, July 30th

was a cultural experience.

Because we were picked up and transported to DH2 by Ghita. We exited the vehicle to see the most fantastic display before us: loud, "musica populara" playing (Romanian folk: accordions, pan flutes, synthesizers, mandolins), girls in headbands and aprons chopping up vegetables, and some sort of steamer sitting in the middle of the field surrounded by smashed vegetables on the ground. Zacuscă! This is a vegetable spread that is very popular in Romania: peppers, eggplant, tomatoes, onions, all stewed and then put into jars. I am not a fan myself, but spent four of my Thursday chopping tomatoes for the concoction. I had good conversation with one of the girls, E****, who has become very dear to me. She has bipolar disorder, and has been so open with me in regards to what she goes through with the disorder. The other girl I talked to today has intimidated me since day one, but somehow chopping vegetables brings two people closer together. It seems that once again God decided to blow away my expectations, because most of my preconceptions about the girls thus far have been shaken. This one is a very sweet girl, and I was encouraged at how easy it was to talk to her...in Romanian! I'm getting better! Lunch today was a thin rice soup, followed by salata de vinete (an eggplant spread of sorts), bread and tomatoes. My mother would be blown away to know that I actually LIKE salata de vinete now. Something else I have gotten used to is eating tomatoes like they're apples. At breakfast I hold a tomato in one hand and a slice of cheese in the other: bite from the left, bite from the right. Romania is good to me :)

Ashley and I made cookies for the girls, and it seems our little American recipe has become quite the hit! Today we learned just how much food can bring people together.

Wednesday, July 29th

was uneventful.

Because Sanda was still in the hospital, and because most of the girls were still at home visiting their relatives before their big Ireland adventure. So, Ashley and I took the opportunity to stay home and help the family clean. I had a few translations to do for Ionut, but outside of that, it was a day for us to process things with each other and plan how to best use the rest of our time. It was a good day, and I don't feel it was a waste just because we didn't go to DH. Rozi (host mother) has been using the boxload of tomatoes we brought from DH in every meal, and it makes me happy. Hers aren't ripe yet, and are an absolute necessity for any Romanian household in the summer. Just glad I could help :)

I spent a lot of time in the word today, and it has been refreshing to take a breather and converse with God about some things. I feel like I've been consuming so much information and real-life training and stories that it all started to run together. I searched for God, for clarity, and I'm starting to sort through this incredible experience. More than anything, I'm learning what it means that God is strength.

11.

So much going on!

Lavinia, one of the daughters in our host family, turned 20 yesterday. We spent our evening after DH baking cookies (compromising about half the ingredients because in Romania they don't have chocolate chips, brown sugar, or regular oatmeal). We took them to Piata Unirii, the big town square where we spend most of our evenings, and met our usual group of friends + some visiting boys from Bucharest. It was funny to watch every boy take a cookie, look at it funny, take a bit, and then with wide eyes grab two more from the bag. The rest of the evening we enjoyed each other's company and celebrated the birth of a dear friend. Ashley and I have agreed that half of our experience in Romania lies outside of our time at Deborah House. This experience would not be complete without the hospitality of our host family and simple nights in Unirii with good company.

At DH yesterday, we were again left without our dear Sanda. Please be praying for her, as she is still in the hospital for prenatal sickness. Apparently, when she is pregnant, she is miserably ill for the entire 9 months. She hopes to be back in the office tomorrow, but we'll have to see about that. We had some more quality board game and hair-making time with the girls today before we met with Diana, the psychologist. For about an hour, we asked her the questions that had festered in our minds for the past week: How do you personally treat PTSD? Are you allowed to cry? What do you do if you want to cry? Are you allowed to hold them when they are breaking down? Have you ever not known what to do? Can we look through your books?

It sounds like we were interrogating her, but really it was more of a dialogue between a mentor and her two, curious pupils. We have learned so much from Diana the past couple of weeks, and are so grateful to have the opportunity to glean from her expertise. She is one of the most warm-hearted professionals I have ever had the opportunity to meet. It is incredible to me how she is able to tend to each girl with such intentionality and guardianship. Meeting Diana has been such a blessing for me personally. Conversing with her in psychology terms and bouncing back therapy-related ideas has been an incredible feeling--like I am part of a worldwide alliance. I am not just a psychology student in Seattle, I am bound for a profession that is thriving! What a realization, I know. But grasping this was like having something all of a sudden click. It's all coming together, and it's all very exciting.

10.

Today, we were on our own at DH. Sanda was sick today, so we had to fend for ourselves. We weren't quite sure what we were going to do with ourselves, but it ended up being one of our busier days. It was quality, I tell you. We talked for a couple of hours about our meeting with Lorena on Friday. We had so many ideas that I scribbled down in my notebook, and Ashley and I were finally able to talk about them. There are certain teenage/young lady issues that Lorena wanted Ashley and I to talk to the girls about, so we were sorting out our thoughts on boyfriends and body image. Meaning I have a list of vocabulary words I need to learn in Romanian. When the girls came home from their sleepover at DH2, we quickly were swept into the courtyard where we sat on the ground and played Uno. And then "Nu te supara frate!", which is basically Romanian "Sorry!", but with a much longer title. We spent time on the swing, talking and taking photos. It has been so nice to get to know the younger girls this way. After lunch, B*****, a girl newer to DH showed us around Giarmata. It was incredibly beautiful, and we found ourselves on many shaded paths. She showed us the school, churches, old ruins, springs, and helped us pick corcoduse (tiny plums that the US completely LACKS). This girl is so dear to us, and it was so great to spend a few hours of quality time with her. She is typically the "boss", it seems--very bold, always telling people to "okay, come on!". But today she was softer and relaxed. She opened up and told us her story and her aspirations. I'm so grateful to have been there to take genuine interest in her and remind her of her worth. The day went by so fast! All of a sudden we found ourselves at the bus stop, waiting with two of the other younger girls for the next bus to Timisoara. They wanted to accompany us, and so the four of us sat on the bench, white roses in hand, talking about little things. It was a pleasant and refreshing day of constantly pouring into people. I so wish I were able to post photos of these girls, so my descriptions can feel less flat. I say this in every post, but these girls are truly incredible.

09.

Sunflowers are like icons at DH. They surround the houses and are painted on the walls. They are painted on paper, framed, and stuck on the walls. It is a beautiful thing to be surrounded by blossoms.

Today we played a lot. After spending my morning in Sanda's office (translating things into English, peeling oranges, filing passports, etc), Ashley and I went outside and found a group of the younger girls. It was absolutely perfect morning weather, so we sat and enjoyed the breeze while the girls took their turns on the swing. "Let's play a game!" We agreed, and I stood there trying to translate for Ashley this wildly invented game about colored eggs. This is how it goes:

There is one "Mami" (Me)
And one Wolf (Ashley)
And three children (T****, V********, and F*********)

The wolf waits around the corner as the Mami whispers colors to the little ones. The wolf knocks on the door and so begins the dialogue:

Mami: "Yes?"
Wolf: "Hello, Mrs. Hen. Do you have any colored eggs?"
Mami: "Well, it depends. What colors are you looking for?"

The wolf proceeds to name colors, and if he so happens to guess one, Mami pretends to invite him in for coffee to distract him while the one with the right color runs as fast as they can into the garden. I would yell "Go! Go! Go!" and run after the wolf. If the child can run back to Mami's arms before the wolf gets her, she is safe! If not, she.....is out. Creative, no?

We played this game for at least one hour before continuing to play a rough game of dodgeball in the middle of the road. Because it is tiring to spend your morning running through orchards and throwing soccer balls at Ashley, I was relieved when Lorena called us into the living room to talk. Lorena is the driving force behind DH--the whole project is her dream that has become a big, functioning reality. We spent a long time here. It was an amazing time where we exchanged ideas, listened to her explain laws and norms, and developed a plan of action for next week. Ashley and I are planning on talking to the girls about a few things: body image, boyfriends, modesty, and hi5 (a myspace-like website that is not what teenage girls need to be spending their time on). We have the weekend to become experts on these topics! What an opportunity. Please pray for us--that we will come across in a way that is credible and non-threatening.


There is so much more! But I won't bore you with details. It was an incredible day, full of learning. Here's to many more.

08.

Today, I filled my notebook with precious material. It is enough to keep my prayer list overflowing for the next twenty years.

We started out our day with Ionut in his office. Adriana brought the three of us coffee and a platter of sugars and creams. I said my thank you's and right away started sipping at the caffeine my brain so needed this morning. Ionut looked at me in surprise and said, "What, no sugar?" To which I replied, "No, I usually drink it just as it is." A huge smile spread across his face as he remarked, "Ah, I see. We have a saying here that says if you can stand bitterness in your coffee, you must have a sweet life."

I really like it here.

Ashley and I sat with Sanda in her office today and listened as she told us each girl's story. By now, we know every girl by name and personality. I think it made it harder to hear these horror stories. Some of the girls have been at the house since they were 5...8....12 years old. As I was listening to these cases of abuse, I was distressed at the state of the world. It is hard for me to imagine parents being negligent; mothers too fearful to stand up for their children, fathers too drunk to get out of bed and feed their family. These precious girls had their innocence and the springtime of their life stolen. We are talking to Diana, the psychiatrist/psychologist, on Monday asking her about how she goes about treating posttraumatic stress disorder (PTSD) with young girls. She told us that all of the girls were diagnosed with PTSD, so I'm thinking she is a good resource. It's incredible how much I'm learning about psychology as well as ministry. Even though this is an internship for my Global and Urban Ministries minor, I am learning so many things that will make me a better therapist/psychologist/researcher/human being.

We walked out of the office after that talk, and sat down to lunch with the girls. I looked at each one of them differently. I know more than their names and interests, I know their stories now. God has reclaimed each one of them--these girls are such gems.

07.

Fieldtrip.

Today, Ashley and I accompanied Ionut (Director of DH) and Doru (Director of another Missio Link Interntional ministry that includes outreach to juveniles delinquents) on an excursion to a rehabilitation center for young men released from jail for "good behavior", in Buzias. We drove by sunflower fields and springs of mineral water, up to what looked like a gated community with a red-and-white striped watchtower hovering over it. We handed our passports to the security guard, and Doru told us that if we were well-behaved they might release us at the end of the two hours. Romanian humor, hah.

As we were walking down the path that ran straight through the middle of the campus, I could feel a hundreds of eyes on us and see heads turning at my left and right. It was extremely uncomfortable, and I kept my head up as I tuned out the guy who whistled and the muffled comments they didn't know I could understand. As we entered the room where Doru's Bible Study was to be held, Ashley and I took our seats...in the front row....facing everyone. I have never been more aware of my posture in my entire life. We all sang worship songs in Romanian and read Psalm 23. Ashley and I were introduced, and I did my part in translating our thoughts into Romanian--if it's one thing I've been strengthened in, it is my use of the language. I have asked God so many times to strengthen me in the face of fear and shame in my poor vocabulary, but have recently felt this fearlessness. I set aside my pride (from time to time, it's still a work in progress), and speak. With every grammatical error and with very simple language. But I speak, and I'm getting better. It was an incredible feeling to stand in front of 40 tough boys and speak broken Romanian--they didn't laugh! Some of them found it quite endearing, actually. It made me happy that I could contribute a little amusement to their day.

I wish I could describe to you what Doru's message did to my heart. I was listening, and fully comprehending what he said. It wasn't even quite his words that had such an impact on me, but watching the boys' faces and watching Doru's demeanor as he spoke with them. He has been doing this for 20 years, and is still passionate. He calls them "my church", and takes immense pride in his boys. The boys respect him so much, and it is evident that many of the boys are sincerely searching for the Lord. (Can I tell you that out of the 40 or so young men there, only 5 were not Roma? Hmm.) I could look at their faces and discern what type of story they had. There were a few boys who caught my eye. They were the ones that were obviously more broken about their past than the others. Quieter, more attentive, and solemn. One of them was crying during the hymn we sang about redemption. I was humbled and moved by their remarks to Doru's questions. When he asked, for instance, why Jesus died for us, all the boys threw out comments that rang nicely "Because of His love! Because we sinned! etc, etc." But there was one boy in the front, who wisely said, "No. Because He could, and because He wanted to." It was straight from his understanding of who God is, and it was beautiful. He was incredibly wise in his comments.

I wish I could give you every instance of those hours that tugged at my heart. I wish I could recall the words with clarity, but I can only tell you that I have a new compassion for a population my heart completely dismissed. Theft, violence, and murder do not need to define a man forever. Jesus Christ is freedom! Hope! My heart is softened, and I am so blessed by people like Doru. I am going back to that place, that is for sure. There is so much I can learn from this man.

06.

*For confidentiality purposes, I will not be using the girls' names. Thus, the frequent use of asterisks*

A quieter, slower day today. We arrived at DH 1 and sat with Sanda in her office for a bit, all the while making sketches of plans for the rest of the week. Ashley and I sat at the table, making detailed additions to the activities we want to do with the girls; I think we were really concentrated, because I remember looking up and all of a sudden lunch was set up and the girls started sitting around us. What I'm really loving about this place is each girl's ability to feel like part of a family there--they call their house moms "Mami" and "Mamicuta" and other such endearing names.

After lunch, we headed over to DH2 for a birthday party for Ghita (house dad for DH2) and Diana (psychiatrist/psychologist). We sang "La Multi Ani" and ate gustari and cake. Everything immediately slowed down even more, and for the rest of the time, we sat watching a Bollywood film with some of the girls. So, no big discoveries or deep conversations today, but I tried to find sweetness in that time. I don't think we need major breakthroughs every day to have a memorable internship. Today, we sat. We ate party food. We watched sappy Indian movies. We hardly talked. But it was good we were there. It was good that Ashley and I were on either side of A***** listening to her "aww" and burst out laughing during the movie. It was good to give dear, sweet E**** a hug today and help with the dishes. It was good to smell roses in the back seat with S*****. Every hello and smile today was worth it, just being there is enough sometimes.