Someone to Remember

In the US, this weekend is Memorial Weekend; a time to remember and honor those who have died while serving in the United States Armed Forces. Although my Grandpa Dorsch didn't die in combat, he loved and served his country with his whole heart. Bird City does a great job of celebrating Memorial Weekend. Our family had the honor of participating in the ceremony a few years back. I was always so proud to see Grandpa and Uncle Normie standing up.

 My grandpa is the second one on the left.

 

Uncle Normie

 

An American flag blowing in the wind is one of the most beautiful sights in the world.

This year, there will be flag flying on Grandpa's grave.

I couldn't be more proud of you, Grandpa.

You are dearly and infinitely missed.

How I long to play one more game of Pinochle with you.

Grandpa, you are truly Someone to Remember.

I love you.

Does your sole need a check-up?!

I saw this the other day:

Hopital de Chaussure = Shoe Hospital

I can guarantee this is the best shoe-specialized hospital in Niger. If you have sick shoes, worn-out soles, holes in your leather, you know where to go! You will receive individualized one-on-one attention. The bills are low. The doctors are caring and personable. The hospital provides out-patient surgery. Americans, let me know if you are want to mail your patients to me--I'd be happy to drop them off.

A Cultural Faux-Pas

I had a cultural awareness moment earlier this week. Unfortunately, the awareness only came after boldly committing a cultural taboo. Despite the fact that I was born in Central African Republic and lived for 16 years in West Africa, I have now learned that I must not consider myself exempt from "learning moments" as I call them.

My significant learning moment was on Tuesday. Several of the staff (and sometimes students) play Phase 10 during lunch on Tuesdays. My greatest all-time arch-enemy in the game is Mr. Hama. He is another French teacher and we are great friends. He calls me Lindsay-a. (It's a long story.) On this particular Tuesday, I approached the table outside where we usually play and saw this:

In the actual episode, Mr. Hama was sitting in the chair on the right. 

These pictures were staged several days later for blogging purposes.

My first reaction: "I need to clear the table so that we have room for the cards." Without further thought, I grabbed the pod on the table and flung it to the ground.

Only then did I hear my friend Ruth's astonished voice: "Lindsay!" She ran over to where it landed, picked it up, and put it in Mr. Hama's hands. Only then did I notice his astonished expression.

His only remark was asked in all sincerity and incredulous complexity, "Pourquoi tu jettes ma nourriture?" (Translation: Why are you throwing my food?)

What? His food??? How was I supposed to know that? The table sits right under a tree and there are often leaves and leavey-things that have to be removed from the table before playing. I thought the pod was no different. As my dad often tells me, "There you go thinking again!"

Ruth, Mr. Hama, and I laughed and laughed and laughed. I was SO embarrassed. Imagine I walked up to your table at lunch where you were eating a piece of pizza and I grabbed it and flung it to the floor! I do not think I will ever hear the end of this story.

Here are a few more pictures:

Once I looked at the pod closely, I realized I had seen them and even tried them when I lived in Burkina. Momentary lapse of memory! Oops!

an excellent woman

When I think of the excellent woman Proverbs 31 describes, I think of my mom. Celebrating Mother's Day in Niger, which is the "worst place to be a mother" according to Save the Children (you can read all about the article here), I am simply thankful that I have a mother, a healthy mother, a loving mother, and above all, a Christian mother. What an undeserved blessing I have been given--a blessing so many children can't even fathom. I have thoroughly been enjoying (and taking advantage of) the six months that I have been living with my parents. I love the relationship I have with my mom. She encourages me. Speaks truth to me. She helps me, blesses me, challenges me, and is a mentor, confidante, and role-model.

Here is a list of some of the things I've noticed about my mom that have always been true, but have become even more evident during my stay here in Niger. She is:

- talented. Have you seen the cards she makes? Incredible! (They're for sale, btw!) Did I mention her full-time job is conducted in a foreign language?
- hard-working. She makes home-made bread, home-made peanut butter, home-made yogurt, etc. She sweeps then mops the floors of the entire house at least once a week, if not more.
- content. Despite the heat, the dust, and the adjustment of living overseas once again away from family, she never complains.
- obedient. She is first and foremost obedient to the Lord, and then to my dad. It's not a dreadful or forceful obedience, but a willing obedience.
- disciplined. Laughter might ensue from my mother after this characteristic, but despite what she thinks, I find her truly disciplined--in her use of time, her daily time with the Lord, her personal habits, etc.

The list could go on, but it was never meant to be exhaustive. I simply wanted to point out a few of things I have come to value and appreciate in my mom.

I hope I can someday be as good of a mother as mine is!
Love you, Mother-dear!