Amazing what can happen in a year!

A timeline of a year ago:
31 October 2010 - I preached the Sunday morning service on the topic of Biblical Marriage (part one). At the last minute I was also asked to talk about voting, because it was election day. It was also the engagement dedication ceremony for a Tanzanian friend, followed by an engagement party. About forty people asked me why I'm not married yet. I just laughed.

1 - 6 November 2010 - People kept stopping me to tell me that they were praying for me to get a husband. One of the prayer ministry people in the church stopped me in the hall, told me to put my hands in the air and prophesied over me that my husband was coming soon. I just smiled, and she commanded "Say Amen!" "Amen!" I stammered. In Shirati, Fred was trying to talk his way out of being sent to Dodoma for the Central Diocese Strategic Planning seminar the following week. It didn't work.

7 November 2010 - I preached Part Two of my marriage sermon series at the church. After the second service, the senior pastor and one of the wazee (elders) laid hands on me and prayed that God would send my husband soon, and that he would be a man of Godly character. I laughed a lot (in my mind), because I was really not that pressed to get a husband. After the service I felt convicted about my response (like Sarah when she was told she'd have a child in her old age), and decided to take the advice of a good friend to have some standards. I started a list of the things that I really hoped God would give me in a husband. Fred traveled from Shirati to catch a bus to Dodoma, which he missed.

8 November 2010 - The Central Diocese Strategic Planning seminar began. I finished my list of husband characteristics under the edge of the table, and had another private laugh. I didn't know and had never met a man who came even close to the list in my journal. I figured that God would really have to be the one to bring my husband if I were every to marry. Fred arrived in Dodoma that evening after I'd gone home.

9 November 2010 - I entered the room for the second day of strategic planning meetings and noticed the tall, handsome African man sitting in the corner, but, having just given all my "guy stuff" over to God, I didn't pay close attention to him. Fred noticed me immediately (given that I was the only white woman in the room), and for him, something clicked. It had been years since he'd been interested in any woman, and he'd never been interested in marrying a "mzungu" but for some reason he was drawn to the white woman running the projector. After the meeting, I invited Fred to hang out with us for my host family's son's birthday party. He agreed readily, but then left early from the party. I wrote him off as anti-social.

10-11 November 2010 - No developments, except that each of us was becoming more and more impressed with the other for his/her participation in the meetings. The night of the 11th, Fred and some other guests came to the house of the bishop (where I was staying). I had the first intimation that Fred liked me when he crossed the room to talk to me about watermelons. Such a ladies' man! In spite of that, I took him with me to hang out with my friend, Martin. Along the way Fred broached the subject of marriage, and I immediately changed the subject.

12 November 2010 - After the final meeting, I took Fred to dinner with my two best friends in Dodoma, Martin and Paul. They had already decided that I should marry Fred, making that 3 out of 4 people at that dinner table who had decided views on my marital future.

13 November 2010 - Fred left Dodoma first thing in the morning, and I went back in for another day of meetings, during which we texted each other. Via SMS I agreed to be his girlfriend, about one hour before another friend asked me to be his girlfriend. (I turned him down.)

14 November 2010 and following - Electronic courtship over hundreds (while I was in Tanzania), then over thousands of miles (when I went back to the States) until February 2011, at which point I finally came around to what Fred, Martin and Paul had already seen: Fred was the man God wanted me to marry. We got married in April 2011, meaning that, by the time we celebrated the one year anniversary of the day we met, we'd been married for over half of the time we'd known each other (and I'd also been pregnant for roughly half the time as well!).

Really, I'm so grateful that God's hand was so evident in bringing Fred and I together. We freely give God all the credit and all the glory for the blessing that our marriage is. If I'd ever had any idea how much I would love being married to Fred, it would have been so much harder to wait. I'm so glad that God brought us together at the right time.

Let you mind dwell on these things...(and photos!)

A few thoughts from the recent past:

First, if you missed one or both parts of my double blog post last week, check out Overcoming Fear (about some lessons I've been learning about fear) and Opportunities to Help (some great young people we know in need of very small financial assistance with schooling).

Second, our house has been painted...pink.  Of course I don't have a before picture, but it had been a number of years since the last paint job, which was white.  Now it's pink with grey trim and black foundation (they're only halfway done with the foundation).  They want to paint the roof red, but Fred put his foot down and said we'll buy our own roof paint.

Third, pregnancy update: I'm getting rounder, but not heavier.  I have to walk over to the hospital to use their scale to weigh myself, and I don't do it very often because the nursing students who work at the desk next to the scale always jump up to look at how much I weigh and make comments...usually along the lines of "wow, you weigh a lot".  I weighed myself the day I took the pregnancy test in July (176 lbs), one day in September (172 lbs) and last week (back to 176 lbs).  So in spite of the fact that I have 43 inches of belly, that hasn't translated into weight because I had at least 20+ lbs of American weight to lose.  I feel healthy, but I'm beginning to have trouble sleeping because of the hugeness of my stomach.  Next week I'm planning to get my first general checkup with an OB/GYN in Dodoma just to confirm that everything is going on well, and hopefully to find out the gender of the baby.

Fourth, the title of this blog: "Let your mind dwell on these things..."  I've been thinking about the verse Philippians 4:8: "Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence, if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things." (ESV)  I've also been thinking about the kinds of input I want my baby to have, and creating a home environment and thought patterns for children that will help to draw them close to God even from infancy.  I've begun to realize that some of the things I allow to influence my own environment and thought life are dark, unpleasant or even just frivolous.  If I allow my mind to dwell on these things, I realize that it has an effect on my mood, my attention, my energy, and most of all, my joy and peace.  In fact this verse about the things we should meditate on is sandwiched between two verses about having peace and the God of peace being with us.  That's the kind of home environment I want for my family, one of peace, so what influences will I allow in my home?  Are the things I allow in my mind and in my home those of truth, honor, justice, purity, beauty and excellence?  Is there any room for Spanish soap operas on that list?

Opportunities to help

I'm starting to see a pattern to the opportunities and needs that are around me.  For the past several years I've been advocating for the sponsorship program of Lahash, which focuses on holistic care and education for children through high school equivalent.  During this time I've realized the need for a fund available to help our kids apply to university and specialty colleges, like teaching, accounting or nursing school.  It looks like I'll have the opportunity to begin designing and fundraising for that scholarship program in the next year, which excites me immensely.  In many cases, these vulnerable, but brilliant and hard-working kids only need a little assistance to get the applications, birth certificates, death certificates for parents (to prove vulnerability for government grants), etc.  In other cases, for vocational schools especially, the fees for a year of school may be only a few hundred dollars, but even the low cost for school can derail a potential student's future.  A young man or woman faced with the opportunity to become a teacher, accountant, mechanic or nurse with a salary to support a family, may instead end up working in a restaurant or doing piece work in the market.

Right now Fred and I have several students we are trying to help, but with planning for the baby, the requests for assistance have overwhelmed us.  I hope that, in sharing their stories, God might move on a reader's heart to help these students.  (Disclaimer: these students are not part of any Lahash International program, but are personal "projects" that Fred and I are facilitating.  Any funds would not go through Lahash, and would not be tax-deductible.)  Here are their stories:

Habiba is the one who got me started feeling so passionate about these students.  She is an ambitious young woman who finished secondary school (high school) in the Lahash program, and was accepted to St. Augustine University to get a bachelor's degree in education.  She has a government loan and grant which covers her tuition, but is herself responsible for her registration fees.  I've helped her out a couple of times in the past, but recently her family's financial situation degraded even more, and now, for lack of 188,000 TZS, or about $120, she might not be able to return for her second year of school.  She needs these funds as soon as possible to finish her registration.  Without the funds, she might never get a chance to return to university.
If you would like to help Habiba, she needs a one-time gift of $120 as soon as possible.

Tino is a young man who is a student at the Shirati Nursing School, which is part of the Mennonite diocese that Fred works for.  Although Tino is an orphan, his grandmother and uncles have really sacrificed to help him with the first year of his school fees.  He worked a low-level job in a hospital to save up the funds for the first term of his second year, which just started.  Fred and Tino have become friends, playing volleyball together most afternoons, and Fred has a lot of respect for Tino's work ethic and dedication to school, as well as his leadership on campus.  In March his funds will run out, and he won't be able to finish his nursing degree for the lack of only a small amount of money.
If you would like to help Tino, he needs a one-time gift of $300 by the end of February 2012.

Steve is another student at Shirati Nursing School whom we have tried to help from time to time.  Like Tino, Steve is a young man on his own in the world.  Steve is another volleyball friend of Fred's, and he attended my birthday party with Tino and a few others.  He's a really joyful, funny young man, and super friendly.  He is in his final year of school and has been assured of a job at the local hospital after his graduation, at which point he plans to begin repaying any funds provided to him.  We would reapply these fees to assist additional students in similar circumstances.
If you would like to help Steve, he needs a one-time gift of $300 by the end of February 2012.

**EDIT**I had a story here about a girl I hadn't actually met named Leticia Namirembe.  Turns out that the whole thing was an extremely elaborate scam, perpetrated by someone who had stolen Mama Susan's email password and sent me emails purporting to be Susan, Leticia, and the registrar of the nursing school.  Lesson learned that no matter how much research I think I've done, there's nothing like a personal relationship!

Please contact me if you have been touched by any of these stories and would like to help out.  You can send an email to my personal account: leishlin@gmail.com.  Thank you and God bless.

Overcoming Fear

I would imagine that most people who know me or read this blog would say that I am not a fearful person, that fear isn’t something I struggle with (except for fear of rodents).  In fact, I hope that is the perception most of you have, because for the past ten years or so I’ve made a concerted effort to conquer fear in my life.

I believe that fear has no place in the life of a Christ-follower, because fear is not of God.  For me, this principle is true from the very small fears to the very large fears.  I believe this so strongly that I have confessed my fear of mice as sin and asked God to forgive me as I try to conquer that irrational aversion.  (Still plenty of work to do on that front, unfortunately.)

Throughout the Bible, God’s message about fear has two themes: Fear God and Fear Not.  Fearing God comes from having a true understanding of who God is and as our understanding of God increases, our reverence (or fear) for God increases, which Proverbs 1:7 says is the beginning of wisdom.  The other command, to “fear not” seems to always be followed with a “because of God” statement.  For example, as Moses leads the Israelites out of Egypt and they are trapped at the banks of the Red Sea, Moses exhorts the people “Fear not; stand still and see the salvation of the Lord which He will work for you today.”  (Exodus 14:13, Amplified)  It seems to me that the more we fear God, the less we fear other things because our understanding of God allows us to overcome the fear.

Here’s a little anecdote about how this “Fear God/Fear Not” principle worked out for me recently.  Fred travels a fair bit, a few days at a time for seminars, meetings, trainings, and I’m becoming used to that, but one recent night when he was away, I had a moment of overwhelming fear.  My usual approach to fear is to ask myself “What’s the worst that can happen if this fear is realized?” but when that fear has to do with losing my husband, imagining the worst case scenario sent me spiraling deeper into fear.  I simply couldn’t imagine living with the pain of losing Fred.  I began praying against the spirit of fear, confessing that the fear doesn’t come from God and asking for peace “beyond understanding.”  That peace came, and I fell asleep, but I hadn’t really overcome that fear.  The next morning, I was thinking about God’s heart for widows and orphans, when I realized that my fear was of that very thing…being a young widow…and the more I remembered God’s character and promises to support and care for the widow, the more I felt fear fading.  Obviously I don’t want to lose my husband and I pray regularly to have a long life with Fred, but a fear of God, respecting that God can take care of me and bring me through anything, allows me to fear not what tomorrow may bring, even if it’s that worst thing I can imagine.

I might have another post on fear coming soon, but to close out this post, here’s a photo of my recent birthday party.  We had a couple of nursing students over for dinner, which was prepared by not me.  The students surprised us by bringing me birthday presents, even though they’re all very broke.  We had a great time, and enjoyed some non-alcoholic wine spritzers with caramel corn for dessert.

Sonogram and Spinach Potato Cakes

First of all, here's the long-awaited sonogram photo.  I'm afraid it's a little blurry, but I promise, even if it wasn't, there's not much to see.  We can distinguish the head and the heart, which is good enough for us.  The slightly grumpy tech, who thought I was odd for wanting my husband in the room, said everything looks good to him and confirmed my estimate for the due date: Valentine's Day.  My belly is still growing, rather quickly, actually, but I feel good.

In exchange for such a valuable item as a sonogram photo, I am going to now subject you to a cooking lesson.  Probably boring, but it was a rather monumental achievement for me, and I feel the need to brag on myself.

I tend to be content to eat the same thing, with slight variations, every day for weeks, but my husband is more inspired by variety.  He doesn't ask for much (since there isn't much to be had), but I try to show some creativity in the kitchen from time to time, rather than just the rice and beans every night that Leah and I used to eat.  Yesterday I had fresh greens, tomatoes and potatoes that I needed to use, and it was Sabbath, so I had all the time in the world to cook.  I did a little web browsing looking for something new to cook, and stumbled across a recipe for "Spinach Potato Cakes with Roasted Tomato Sauce" on the Epicurious website (click here for link).  I just so happened to have all the ingredients, except for the optional cheeses, so I went for it.  I love food blogs, so I should have carefully photographed each step of the process, but I didn't think that far ahead, sadly. 

It sounds so simple in the recipe: four easy (long) steps.  In reality it took me most of about five hours, although I was watching Season 1 of LOST at the same time, so I wasn't in any hurry.

Here are my step-by-step directions for making this recipe in Africa.

- First I washed thoroughly and peeled six or seven potatoes, then chopped them in half and put on to boil.  I washed approximately one pound of greens thoroughly and remove from the stems.  We don't have spinach here, so I used something called "pea greens" which are kind of like ramp, I think.  Also, I didn't have any way to weigh one pound, so I took a half-kilo bag of pasta in one hand (1.1 pounds) and the greens in the other hand.  Close enough.  I washed very, very thoroughly the ripest six or seven tomatoes and cut in half.  I made four pieces of toast in the sandwich maker, then crushed them with the handle of the knife to get one cup of bread crumbs.

- No oven, so I had to "pan roast" the tomatoes with a conservative amount of my very expensive and precious olive oil and salt and pepper.  Meanwhile, I melted two spoonfuls of Blue Band (a kind of margarine that serves for butter here) in a pot and wilted the greens.  When the potatoes, tomatoes and greens had all cooked, I set them all aside to cool.

- I mashed the potatoes with a fork, then, lacking a blender to puree the tomatoes, I mashed those with a fork too.  I chopped up the greens, nearly removing my thumb nail in the process.  Everything was then ready to rock and roll.

- I mixed the greens, an egg, the potatoes, salt and lemon pepper (in lieu of lemon zest and pepper).  It really didn't appear to need bread crumbs, since it was sticking together well, but I was darned if I was going to waste the effort of smashing all that toast.  I used about half, just out of principle, and preserved the rest in an old coffee jar.  Here I ran into my biggest dilemma thus far: what would I use to hold the flour for dredging?  Being Sunday, our housegirl wasn't around to wash dishes for me, and I had, in true Leisha form, used nearly every dish in the kitchen.  I hate washing dishes, so I used the lid for a water pitcher instead of washing a plate or bowl.  Just call me MacGyver. 

- I formed the cakes and began dredging them in flour.  At this point, Fred came home from playing volleyball at the nursing school and eyed with mild alarm the chaos of the kitchen.  He diplomatically inquired how many dishes I had used, and I diverted the question by heating oil and beginning to fry the cakes.  The smell of cooking food had its desired effect of inspiring him to walk to the shop and buy me a soda to drink with dinner.  (This is a very important part of the recipe.)  The first cakes cooked a little faster than I anticipated, and I felt compelled to taste test one (or two) to make sure they weren't spoiled.  They weren't.

I also made some scrambled eggs to add a little protein to our dinner.  At its core, this was a meal comprised of exactly the same ingredients we always eat--eggs, tomatoes, greens, potatoes--but it tasted fantastic.  Between the two of us we ate "4 to 6 servings" of potato cakes.  They were delicious, but it's going to take another Sunday to repeat the experiment because of all that prep work and dishes, which I dutifully left for my housegirl to wash this morning.  (It's how she earns her salary, since the rest of the day she gets to spend on the sofa watching Nigerian movies.  I used to feel guilty, but then I decided not to, since I hate washing dishes and that dislike outweighs guilt every time.)

I also made caramel corn this weekend, which was another big success with my husband and the nursing school students we shared it with.  I feel like I'm finally getting the hang of cooking without a fridge or oven.  Next time I jerry rig a recipe for my kitchen, I'll take some photos.  Promise.

Oh!  In closing, here's another photo for you.  This was the view from our hotel room in Mwanza last week.  One would think I'd have taken a photo of the fabulous view of Lake Victoria from the open rooftop bar, but I never took the camera up to the bar.  I don't like looking like a tourist, taking photos of scenery or, Heaven forbid, animals.  It would take a lot of begging from you all to get me to take a those kind of pictures.  In fact, why don't you just come visit, and you can take the photos yourself?  Then I'll steal them and post them on my blog for everyone else's enjoyment.  We have a spare room (or six), and one of them actually has a bed in it.  Karibu Tanzania!

TV can teach you something...sometimes

Fred and I share a mild obsession with politics.  Fred being Kenyan means that he’s basically culturally obligated to be aware of current Kenyan politics and be able to discuss these issues and people with anyone, anywhere.  I’ve always found politics interesting, and I’m getting quite a (slightly biased) education on the intricacies of Kenyan political dynamics from my husband.  All this political interest on both our parts means that we were feeling the lack of news when all we had to rely on was intermittent internet and the radio.  That wasn’t so bad for Fred because the news headlines were on every hour, but they were always in Luo or Swahili, meaning that I could maybe pick out two or three words if I really paid attention, but usually I’d have to ask “What’s going on?” once it was all over.  Anyway, so a few weeks ago we borrowed a satellite dish from a friend, and Fred and two other guys spent two days setting it up in the backyard and calibrating signals for approximately 50 channels.  Here are the two most important lessons I’ve learned in the past few weeks of watching Tanzanian cable TV:

1. There aren’t many differences between witchcraft and the prosperity gospel
Of our 50 channels, about 30 of them are religious channels.  I rarely watch any of them, but the little bit of preaching I’ve watched convinces me ever more of the danger of the prosperity gospel, which basically believes that God wants to bless us with material wealth if we have sufficient faith.  I’ll describe a common scenario, and you tell me if I’m describing witchcraft or the prosperity gospel: A person has problem, usually motivated by envy and discontentment.  That person goes to a powerful spiritual leader who assures the person that his/her deity has the power to solve the person’s problem if certain conditions (*coughcough*money) are met.  The person is led through a ritual, in which the spiritual leader is very prominent, of asking said deity for a specific solution to the aforementioned problem.  Often the specific solution does not come about, which is usually blamed on the person asking for not meeting the certain conditions (*coughcough*money).  Now, you tell me which deity is being appealed to.  This mindset is presented most persistently by preachers from Nigeria (renowned for its witchcraft) and America (renowned for worshipping wealth).  Sometimes it seems like the Muslim clerics on TV are presenting more godly principles for living than many of the “Christian” pastors.
                Yesterday, though, my attention was caught by an American black woman named Prophetess Juanita something.  She was talking about the importance of faith, which is usually a lead-in to having faith that God will give you want you want.  This woman paced the stage, sweating and shouting about how the church has corrupted faith to only be for our own wants.  She said “If the church is over here, dancing about all our nice stuff, there is no room for faith for healing of the woman with cancer or AIDS.  Where are the soup kitchens and rehab programs and prostitute outreach programs that used to characterize the church?  Instead we all want big houses and Mercedes.  Someone needs to desire the kind of faith where God doesn’t need to give me anything, because the things I’m praying for are for my neighbor and the prostitute and the child dying on the streets.”  I can’t tell you how refreshed and encouraged I was by these words.  The prosperity gospel is so corruptive and so prevalent in the church throughout the world, and it was fantastic to hear her defending the simple life of faith on behalf of others.  Can anyone argue that is true gospel?

2. Often the hardest things to hear are the most important
At the end of 2007 and beginning of 2008 violence broke out in Kenya following heavily contested presidential elections.  I won’t go into detail about who did what to whom, but the politics of ethnicity mixed with poverty and inflammatory speeches led to a wave of violence that was devastating for the country.  After the dust settled, cries for justice echoed throughout the world.  The wananchi, or common citizenry of Kenya, called for justice, not just for the perpetrators of rape, arson and murder, but for the instigators.  Common knowledge held that those instigators were the top politicians in the country.  After the Kenyan justice system failed to indict the top level planners, even after reports by a special commission and the Kenyan National Human Rights Committee, the International Criminal Court began investigating.  They named six very prominent names, three on each side of the conflict, and are currently presenting the charges against them before a three-judge panel in The Hague.  K24, the best Kenyan news station, airs the hearings live every afternoon, and if we have power, we are always parked in front of the television, fascinated.  The worst part is hearing the prosecutors describe the violence which qualified these charges as crimes against humanity.  There were men of Fred’s tribe who were forcibly circumcised with broken bottles before being beheaded and even boys as young as age 5 were castrated with dull blades.  Many, many women on both sides of the conflict were raped, some contracting HIV as a result of gang rape in the streets of western Kenya, others becoming pregnant, and still others burned alive in their homes with their children.  It’s terrible, and easy to say “I don’t want to hear this”, but I think it’s so important to hear the stories of these people.  It’s important for us to bear witness and stand against this horrendous violence, especially in the context of a place like Kenya where the most powerful are rarely held accountable for their actions.  Fred wishes he’d studied law so that he could be the kind of lawyer who represents victims against the entitled power mongers who do whatever they want with impunity in Kenya.  Injustice infuriates us both, and we’re really hoping for truth and justice to come out of these pre-trial hearings at the ICC.

Mixed in with these important lessons are so many smaller things, like “there is such a thing as too much news” and “the perspective of Iranian news channels is very different than CNN and BBC”.  I’ve seen some fantastic things, like a documentary about a poor family in South America which could have been filmed in our village for all the similarities.  Also, did you know that “Touched by an Angel” is still airing in some places?  It’s true.  I’ve watched it.  My life was not changed.

And finally, as promised, a photo.  It seems that our baby knew that I was going to take a picture of him/her this week and has been growing like crazy.  This week marks week 20, so we’re over halfway, and the rate at which the baby has been growing has been exhausting me the past few days.  I weighed myself last week, and I’ve actually lost two kilos (about 4.5 pounds) since I first found out I was pregnant, although the picture doesn't really show that.  Fred’s been pushing me to eat more, even when I’m not hungry, to make sure I maintain a healthy weight, and I’ve been trying to get plenty of rest.  Thank goodness for the remote control!

That’s all for this week.  All the best to all of you.  Comments welcome!

Love your Reader

I recently read a blog post by author Donald Miller who said that the best writing advice he could give is to "love your reader" whether you're writing a book or a blog.  That phrase has been haunting me of late, since this blog, which I try to update weekly, has suffered a shameful lapse, though not for lack of blog-worthy events.  Here's a run-down of the past few weeks:

- Fred or I traveled every week in August, which taught us two things: 1. I don't like having house guests when Fred's not here (if you missed the story, you can read it here), and 2. Fred does not function well without his wife.  While Fred travels, I just hide in the house and work or read or watch movies.  While I travel, Fred stops eating and sleeps like a teenager.  If it weren't for the bishop's wife, he probably would have missed a lot more meals.  He even stopped shaving.  I don't think I've seen him happier than when I got back home.  We've both been thankful to have a few weeks of reprieve where we're both home before traveling starts again.

- We hired a house girl, which I talked about in this post, and she's still doing really well.  An unexpected bonus is being forced to speak Swahili with her, which highlights how much Swahili I've forgotten from going back to the States for six months and only speaking English with my husband.  It also reminds me of my old roommate, Leah, since my vocabulary for household tasks is shamefully deficient.  I can fluently access the Swahili words for sponsorship, planning, development, poverty, flourishing, and a host of words related to spiritual development, but I cannot ever remember the verb for washing clothes.  I'm going to have to go back to studying Swahili, but be far more practical this time!

- I went to Dodoma for a week for some meetings and training with GHMD.  It was fabulous to see the kids and the staff.  I was so touched when several girls came one day after school specially because they'd heard that I was at the office.  They just wanted to see me and give me a hug!  For the most part I was so encouraged by the health and development of all the children, but there were a few notable exceptions, all on the theme of housing problems.  I'll be writing about that in my next support letter, which will be mailing at the beginning of October.  If you're not receiving my snail mail support letter and would like to, send me an email with your address and we'll get that out to you.

- Speaking of email, I have a new work email address, leishao@lahash.org (let the spam begin).  Note especially that last part: lahash.org instead of lahash.net.  We have a new website for Lahash, and it's spectacular.  You should definitely check it out.  Please note that this new address is only for work related stuff, so please don't add it to personal updates, which I love, or random email forwards.  For that use my old leishlin(at)gmail.

 - I'm supposed to be taking more photos, but I am just not in the habit, so I forget that I even have a camera.  Two note-worthy things I saw on my bus ride back from Dodoma which I would have taken photos of if they weren't flying by in the window:  an old man building a boat in front of his house using only handtools (that's how we know we live by the lake!  well, that and the thunderstorms) and a commercial gravel pit.  I know that sounds insane, there's nothing interesting about a gravel pit, except that most of the gravel in East Africa seems to be made by hand, by people with small hammers sitting next to a pile of rock.  Seeing a huge gravel pit with machinery surprised me a lot, until I saw what was built next door: a very impressive compound of houses, each with an individual air conditioner, with a Chinese flag flying over the whole thing.  It seems there is a road construction project going on nearby, hence the Chinese expat engineers with the AC and the commercial grade gravel.

- Finally, a pregnancy update.  I'm in week 19, so about halfway through.  I'm starting to show a bit, and all the nasty first trimester symptoms are long gone.  The only major symptom I'm struggling with is hormone swings...I think Fred preferred the nausea.  I'm trying to be very conscientious about my moods and conduct, but sometimes I strike up a "conversation," thinking I'm completely balanced emotionally, only to burst into tears halfway through, making Fred extremely nervous.  In saner moments we're having more conversations about cross-cultural parenting, and the aspects of each of our cultures that we want to instill in our children, regardless of where we live.  It's complicated, but one of the most valuable parts of our marriage carries over into parenting: nothing is assumed.  We can't assume that we will agree on anything, so we have to think about everything, from the languages we'll speak to our kids to the attitude toward leadership we want them to develop.  (Fred and I are both over-thinkers...can you tell?)  In a few weeks we'll go up to Nairobi to check out a few hospitals and make a birth plan.  Right before we came back to Tanzania, we were introduced to an American family who were on their way to Nairobi to work at an international school.  The wife is training as a midwife, and she's helping me do research and think through all the plans for the birth.  While in Nairobi we're hoping to get an ultrasound and buy some baby clothes.

Well, after all those snippets, I hope you feel loved!  I'll try to be more consistent in these updates, and my goal, which I'll publicly state here for accountability, is to have at least one or two photos for you next time!  If you have any requests for something you want to see, whether it's our new dining room table or my increasing midsection, leave it in the comments and I'll do my best.