A Visit with Maryam

[Picture: Saraf, Maryam, Vida] Maryam met me at Helping Hands with all 3 of Fatima’s children on Saturday. Fatima was working as she does 6 days a week. It was a crazy busy day with wall to wall children and mothers in the “baby room”. After I closed up, so the room could reopen as Greek class, she and I and toddler, Mohamad Aziz left the ARC. The girls ages 6 and 8 stayed behind to come home later with another family. We walked up to Omonia to catch the train to Attiki. The train was packed full of people. She asked, “Can you do it?” and I nodded my head so we smashed into the last few inches available as the door closed. Poor Mohamad was too short to see out the window, he had to have been very claustrophobic, I know I was and I could see out. When we arrived in Attiki, the door opened on the other side and I was not sure we could get out before it closed, but somehow we managed it.

I had not been to Attiki before. The entire city of Athens looks like a trash dump because of the trash collector’s strike, and Attiki was no exception. Attiki is in an older part of Athens that might have been clean (on a different day)with mature trees shading the parkways. The metro exits near a walled off area where buses are parked. We walked about 2 blocks and turned into a residential building. Her door was immediately to the right once we came in the outside doors, so I didn’t have to walk through the dimly lit stairwells of what our staff affectionately calls the “afghan hotel”.

I immediately recognized the living room furniture from the pictures I had seen of Christmas in the apartment. The living room had a window out at ground level to the street. There was a worn L-shaped couch with an oversized white teddy bear sitting in the corner of the “L”. Across from the couch was an entertainment center with a TV, DVD player and older stereo. Every square inch of the floor was covered in Persian rugs. We removed our shoes and left them in a 4 story cardboard shelf unit by the door. Double doors hid most of the hallway and the rest of the house. I can’t really tell how much more house there is. I can see that someone might be sleeping in the hall on a single bed. I know that Maryam and her husband; and her brother; and Fatima and her husband and her 3 kids all live here. With 5 adults working part-time, they manage to pay the rent on what I think is a 2 bedroom apartment originally intended for Maryam and her husband and her brother. I could hear Maryam putting Mohamad down for a nap and preparing food for me. I am wondering how we will fill the time when we have so little in common language and wondering whether or not I was stupid to not wait to invite someone to come with me (can you invite someone if the hostess doesn’t invite them? So much culture, I don’t understand). I had hoped the girls would be with us to entertain us, but Maryam very much wanted this to be just the 2 of us. Greek “m-TV” is playing on the TV. I’m wondering how refugees afford so much stuff, but then I suppose each time a family moves on, the accumulation gets passed on to those who stay.

Maryam comes back with oranges and apples on a plate and a box of Turkish sweets. As we eat, we talk about family. I ask about her mother. She brings me a picture of her mother as a 23 year old, holding her as a baby. Maryam looks very Asian. Her mother’s hair is brown and not black and very curly. She does not look Asian at all, maybe French? The picture is outdoors at the sea and her head is not covered, which is unusual for someone living in a Muslim country. She is beautiful and happy. She has told her mother about me, and about how she met me at “church”. Church is what she calls Helping Hands. Maryam has 2 brothers and 4 sisters. She is the 6th of 8 children and the first to be married. Her brother that lives with them is the oldest. The youngest is 16 years old. Her mom is pregnant now. She has learned to use Skype at the internet café nearby and is glad to be able to talk to her mom. I’m suddenly reminded of the gift I have for her. Last week was her 20th birthday and I brought a Farsi/English New Testament wrapped in a ribbon. I’ve written inside the cover and marked the scriptures that tell the story of salvation. Maybe we will get to talk about what she reads another day….if she reads. It is in God’s hands and I have “given Him something to bless” (thank you for that thought, my good friend George DeJong).

There are many knocks on the doors as talk. Fatima’s husband comes home and slips quietly to the back of the apartment through the mysterious double doors. Maryam’s husband comes home and does the same. A neighbor brings by a sack of vegetables from the open market. Another neighbor brings a sack of fruit. Eventually Fatima comes home from work. Neighbor children come looking for Vida and Saraf. Eventually the girls come home. Her husband leaves and brings us back Greek take out to eat (just Maryam and I). She sadly explains that she cannot cook, but Fatima is teaching her. Fatima comes in to eat with us. Mohamad wakes from his nap happy to see his mom. Later there is tea and chocolate. We talk about how Americans make tea from tea bags and don’t leave the leaves to fall to the bottom of the cup. This is a marvel to them as to why anyone would want to put tea in a bag. Maryam tells me that when she speaks English everyone can tell she is from Afghanistan, but when I speak Farsi, I sound like I am from Iran. She thinks I have a very good teacher. Too bad, I only know 100 words and most of them are not yet conversationally useful! I am exhausted from the long day and uncomfortable with the thought of trying to find my way back to the train in the dark, so I sadly tell them I need to go fix dinner for my husband, but promise that we can do this again soon. I kissed them all good-bye at the door (left cheek, right cheek, left cheek). I need not have worried, Maryam walked me all the way to the train and made sure I got on the right one before she waved good-bye. I think our friendship is little bit about how much she misses her mom and how much I miss my girls and God has given us the gift of each other.

One week later, she shows up at Helping Hands and wants to kidnap me again, but I already have dinner plans with teammates. Fatima was going to help her make dinner. I’m so sad. I love Iranian food. I guess our first visit must have gone well.

Ministry Update: March 10, 2008

Greetings from the stinky city of Athens.  We are on about day 7 of a 10 day general strike announcing that just about everyone is unhappy with the government’s plan for pension reform.  This means no trash pick up (hence the not so pleasant smell), rotating electrical blackouts (electric company on strike), buses, taxis, trains, banks, ….you never really know what will be working and when.  I sat in the almost dark on Saturday evening blessing Kim Baker for sending me candles for thanksgiving and blessing God for the short term team that brought peanut butter so that I could have a really good sandwich in the dark instead of the spaghetti dinner I had planned to cook on my electric stove.  Sahar called me on my cell phone and we talked for a long while as we both sat in the dark.  Arno, her husband was in Holland, as she is my neighbor, she gets blacked out the same times I do and Kenn was still in the city finishing up showers with refugees after Tea House.   Arno has actually hooked up a UPS (uninterrupted power supply) to their refrigerator after the last general strike.   My refrig is new and seems to handle the fluctuations in power OK.  I haven’t lost food yet.  I’ve been think a lot lately about what Isaiah says about “treasures in darkness”.   

God has been really good to us over these last months without our stuff.  Our container should arrive on March 17th.   Every day it seems we learn that we don’t really need something else (like electricity this week).   God continues to supply all of our needs and we are doing fine.  

I would appreciate your prayers tomorrow.  My refugee friend, Maryam has invited me to her house.  Her birthday was last week, so I am bringing her a Farsi/English New Testament as a gift for her birthday.   We had a brief conversation about how good God was to provide a job for her and for her husband, even it if was part time and not a lot of money.  Many refugees do not have work.   I’m going by myself and don’t really know where I am going, so Kenn is not overly comfortable with it, but it is day time and she’ll walk me from the Metro.

Also tomorrow, we have a leadership team meeting.   As we make plans for the spring and summer our team of 16 looks like it might dwindle to as low as 6 or 8 over the summer, which means we need to rethink what services we can continue to offer.   We are looking to God to lead regarding how He would have us spend our time.  We will be discussing this further as a team in a few weeks.    Please pray that God would give us wisdom and unity in purpose.

Today is a holiday here in Greece called “Clean Monday”.   It is celebrated by going on a picnic and flying a kite to “fly your troubles” away.   The whole “clean” celebration in the midst of a garbage strike is a little humorous.   Easter is not this week for us, orthodox Easter isn’t until later in the spring. 

For those of you praying about my health, I actually worked on Thursday and did not get sick on Sunday.  This is the first time I’ve broken that cycle of germs in about 2 months.   It’s not like I’ve been sick with the same thing twice, it just has seemed to be an endless supply of new things to catch.  I know I spent time with at least 1 boy with a fever on Thursday and yet, I’m still well.  Thanks for praying.

Snow in Athens

We had snow on Sunday February 17th. As a native Californian, I am quite intrigued by snow as I haven't seen a lot of it. Enjoy the pictures.

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Ministry Update: February 13, 2008

Big News:

• Our daughter, Betsy is engaged to Luke Freiler and planning a November wedding.  See www.betsyandluke.com for more information.

• Kenn is retired as of January 17, 2008.  The good news is that starting February we will have a regular income to supplement our donor based income.  The bad news is that we still don’t know how much it will be and we did not get the settlement for the back pay owed to us.  We have to file an appeal (and wait some more). 

• We finally have internet access in our home!  Look for us on Skype.

On the ministry side, we continue to be overwhelmed with new refugees.  We are seeing 20 to 50 new refugees every time we are open.  Many are Afghanis who had settled in Iran and have recently been forced by the government to move on, but when I gave meal tickets this week, I also enrolled many refugees from Gaza (a Palestinian territory), Iraq, Sudan, Algeria and Georgia (a former Soviet state, now a country).   There isn’t enough food, or milk or pampers or clothing or just about anything to meet the needs of these desperate people.  I can now say “no, we don’t have any right now” in several languages.  Yet, somehow in the midst of this chaos, the ones that are truly spiritually hungry are finding their questions answered in Jesus.   You see them intently watching the Jesus film or pilfering literature from the literature rack because they don’t want anyone to see.  Then they begin to ask questions or show up in a Seeker’s class or at Persian Christian Fellowship with an appetite for more than just food.   I watched one lady sit with teammate, Kallie in the office.  Kallie would read words from her Bible in Greek and the lady would read the same passage from her Bible in Farsi and back and forth they would go, without a single word of common language between them.   Saturday, the 23^rd, there will be a baptism after Tea House in the sea for those that want to publically declare their commitment to Christ.  Pray for our ministry here.

I have started taking Farsi lessons from Sahar’s mom (our neighbor), “mama Khamrani” along with Ella (Nader’s wife).  I’m really liking it and am anxious to be able to communicate better with the Afghani women and children with whom I spend most of my time.  I am continuing to learn Greek on my own.  Kenn is taking a government Greek class, 2 nights a week.   Most of our time outside of tea house and language classes and shower ministry is spent developing staff (coaching and encouraging and communicating and planning).   There is so much to learn about how to be an “international” team.   We had a great conversation recently as a team about how to communicate “care”.  In some cultures, saying “thank you” in the typical American way can be offensive and not communicate care in the way it was intended.    Honestly, about 2/3s of us sitting around the circle were shocked to hear that.  We have so much to learn and don’t even really know the right questions to ask sometimes.  Pray that God would give us wisdom.

Thanks for being part of our prayer team (meant…only to those of you who actually appreciate hearing “thank you”….for the rest of you come see me in Greece and I’ll give you a big hug).

Things I've learned in Greece

• Popcorn should only lie in a single row in the bottom of your pot if you don’t want it fly all over the kitchen. Who knew? My previous experience was only with “jiffy pop” on vacation and microwave popcorn at home.

• Toddlers don’t steal tables. I spent the better part of 20 minutes thinking I’d lost a table out of the baby room in the chaos of Tea House only to discover it broken and waiting to be repaired on the back balcony. This story is the source of endless humor among my teammates
• Instant coffee should not be percolated with a filter. Enough said. When you can’t read the label in Greek, it wasn’t immediately obvious that I had instant coffee (to a non-coffee drinker).
• Eggs don’t have to be refrigerated. They sell them on the shelf, not in the refrigerated section here in the grocery stores here and you can buy cute wire baskets to keep them in for your counter top. I still keep mine in the refrigerator (not sure why), but they don’t have to be if you eat them fresh. How many chickens do you know with refrigerators?
• When you buy olives in bulk fresh at the open market, you bring them home and store them in olive oil. It makes perfect sense, but I just didn’t know.
• In Europe, as a renter you own your own light fixtures, carpets (and none of it is wall to wall carpet), appliances (including the stove and oven) and in some homes even the cupboards and closets. This explains so much about IKEA.
• Cookie sheets in Greece come with your oven and you can’t buy them anywhere else because every oven is a slightly different size. They slide in like a rack or broiling pan. Looking for something non-stick? You don’t need it. Parchment paper is cheap here and everyone uses it on the metal sheet and nothings sticks to the paper. You just throw it away when you are finished. If you are really good, you can slide the paper off the cookie sheet with the cookies still on it, to your cooling rack without ever touching a spatula.
• I should have paid more attention on how to convert centigrade to Fahrenheit in school and how to convert inches to centimeters. In Europe, everything is metric and in Greece all power outlets are 220 (and require a transformer to use most appliances you might bring from the US). Transformers are specific to the wattage of your appliance, there is no “one size” fits all.
• The whole Bible thing about “daily bread” means that most of the world buys their bread (or makes it) daily without preservative, just what they need, just what God provides. There is no need to keep one in your freezer, or to stock up at the grocery store because you can always get more fresh bread at your neighborhood bakery if you need it, 7 days a week warm and fresh. Why would you want old bread when you can have fresh? I’m getting good at slicing bread thinly and evenly. I’m getting even better at actually believing God is able to supply my daily bread….daily.

My 1st Christmas in Greece

You are looking at the highlight of my Christmas season. I spent an entire Saturday with the refugee girls that I went to camp with in August. We met the bus on a stunningly sunny December day in downtown Athens. We loaded up and drove an hour outside of town to a retreat facility. We started with a snack in the kitchen and quickly moved to a craft time. We made glow in the dark stars intended as Christmas tree decorations, although most became necklaces and bracelets. Next we went to the outdoor ropes course. This included a climbing wall, high rope and a zip line. Some were fearless, others terrified. Most finished. After this we had lunch and then a time of outdoor games. During free time we played volleyball. I am the most un-athletic person ever. The thought of me teaching volleyball to children (successfully) was a truly amazing moment. They wanted so badly to learn and to play. The day ended with a magician who performed slight of hand and told a gospel message. You could have heard a pin drop, so intent was the concentration on every word out of his mouth. After the presentation, we gave Christmas gifts to each child. At the end of the long day, we took the bus back to Athens, and then I took the train back to my bus stop and got on the bus to go home. As soon as I got on the bus, the sky let loose and it poured rain as hard as I have ever experienced. I was so grateful that the children had a day in the sun to just be kids. This was the kick off to the Christmas season.

On the heels of this event, we had 3 Christmas dinners (Farsi, Arabic and everyone else). We had about 100 refugees each evening. They heard a Christmas message in their language and then we served dinner. After dinner we gave gifts. Kenn hosted a table and I hid a in room and packed age/gender approrpriate gifts for each person at each table which were distributed by the table host. This was fun in a crazy sort of way. We had several each night respond to the gospel presentation and want to commit to follow Jesus.

Our last Christmas event was hosted by Mattel toys. They came to Tea House on the last day we were open before Christmas. They nearly caused a riot with their kindness. Too many people, not enough toys. I was working in the baby room, hiding really. I had just given my friend Maryam earplugs for Christmas. She wasn't sleeping well with 8 people in 1 tiny apartment, when a sweet little 4 year old Afghani girl, named, Kobra, crawled up in my lap and opened her gifts with me. Her mom was busy with her other siblings and she just needed some love and attention. Ever since that day, every time she sees me, I get hugs and kisses. She remembers.

Christmas in our home was less memorable. Our Christmas tree was on a boat somewhere with our other household goods being shipped. Our retirement income hadn't begun yet, so we didn't have any extra money for really anything extra...and on top of it I was sick with a cold, flu or some sort of secondary infection for the entire month, so I didn't really feel like investing much effort. That along with no home phone and no internet, left me feeling pretty disconnected with friends and family in the US. Christmas cards, though were a delight. We received lots of them and used them to decorate our house. We also had a package with Christmas stockings and decorations delivered right before Christmas.

We had dinner with friends on Christmas Eve with a traditional Australian meal. We exchanged gifts and had dinner with teammates on Christmas day in a home that was beautifully decorated for Christmas. In the end, Christmas wasn't really about the shopping, or the Christmas tree (I did decorate several of them for the Athens Refugee Center, so I didn't miss not doing my own), or the gifts you receive, it really was about God's gift; the gift of his Son, Jesus which makes possible the promise of heaven and the freedom found in forgiveness. I'm here because in Athens, there isn't an evangelical church on every corner, there isn't Christian radio, there isn't a Christian TV station. If you want to see Jesus, you have to see Him in someone like me or maybe like you. I'd love your company next Christmas. Would you like to come help with the parties?

Follow the link to see a few Christmas pictures. I mostly tried to avoid the camera, because I don't photograph well when sick....
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Thanksgiving in Greece

I have many things to be thankful for this year. If there was any temptation to wallow in self pity, all I needed to do is to sit down with a refugee and hear her story. My new friend, Maryam (I’m OK using her real name, because just about every woman from Afghanistan is named Maryam after one of the prophet Mohammad’s wives). She speaks a little English. She left Afghanistan when they stopped allowing women to attend school. She finished high school in Iran, but was unable to attend university there because she was a foreigner. So she and her brother went to France, but were recently deported back to Greece. Her parents didn’t want her to travel alone (even with her brother), so they arranged a marriage for her (not sure when). She doesn’t really like her husband much. They are unable to have a child which makes her an outsider in a culture where woman exist for the sole purpose of making more men. She is either 20 or 27 years old. She has told me both, but her English isn’t very good. I’m thinking she is closer to 20. She claims to not like children, but day after day she sits with me in the baby room and interprets for me and keeps me company. Last Saturday, she introduced me to her husband. He didn’t seem all that unlikeable from my 20 second interaction with him, but I don’t have to live with him.

We had a family night at the ARC the Friday before Thanksgiving and she came as my family since neither of us had children to bring and I was expected to come. Her brother took one look at the many women and children in the room and left. Her husband didn’t come at all. That night we sat with my other Afghani friend, H’s daughter, M (age 15?). “M” is a talker in English and in Farsi. It was the first time Maryam had been introduced to an Afghani woman here in Athens and H’s daughter knows everyone. They spent the next 2 hours telling their stories (in Farsi). I followed some of it because I’d heard both stories before in English. They sat knee to knee, frequently touching their fingers together in compassion. Finally, they exchanged cell phone numbers and kissed. The 3 of us were oblivious to the family games and other events happening loudly around us for nearly 2 hours. They frequently stopped to apologize for not speaking in English, but the mother’s heart in me warmed to see Maryam have a friend to talk to in Farsi. It was my gift to her.

All of this to say, I’m grateful to have a husband I love and who loves me. I’m grateful for God’s gift of my children (and grandchildren) and I’m grateful for my new friends (and my old friends too). I’m grateful for the opportunity I had to go to college late in life (and to be able to explain to Maryam that it is never too late to go to school if that is really what you want to do).

We had the team over to our house for Thanksgiving. We brought in 10 foot tables and borrowed chairs from friends and neighbors. Just a simple American meal for 32… My friend, Kim sent a box of Thanksgiving decorations from the US and other teammates brought tablecloths and candles and lots and lots of food. We carved 4 small turkeys in my kitchen which I used to think was rather large, but it felt small that day. After dinner we had the non-USA teammates explain the story of thanksgiving. It was quite imaginative, and then the USA teammates explained the real story. Finally we watched the DVD, Madagascar with the projector on the wall. It was a fun evening. Follow the link to see pictures:

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