A Fond Farewell, and an Excited Hello (With lots of photos!)

I'm sitting at gate 1 of Yangon International Airport as I write this. I am about to leave Myanmar, and go to Vietnam. It seems appropriate that it should be downpouring. As I'm sure you can imagine my feelings at the moment are quite complicated. Happy, sad, excited, thankful, nervous (flying always makes me a little nervous, especially when flying to foreign countries) Rather than risking boring you all to death talking more about my feelings, I shall now recap the last week for you.

Last weekend Peter's friend from Singapore came up to Lashio for a long weekend. He observed my Friday evening English class, and wound up being somewhat of an assistant teacher as he fed the boy he was sitting next to the answers if the group couldn't think of it fast enough. Which seemed to please and amuse the boy very much indeed.

Saturday was spent with my afternoon class hiking up a small mountain near their home. Hiking could be more accurately discribed as bushwhacking/clambering up, and mud sliding/trying really hard not to fall down. Before we set off, Jenevy split the kids up and assigned them all to an adult and said we were to all forage for edible wild plants. My team harvested hardly any food, and perhaps part of the reason is that the older girl in my group focused almost all her energy on trying to make sure I was okay, and helping me. At times she would offer me her hand at a particularly slippery or difficult part. I would look at her small frame and think "Honey, if I slip and we're holding hands, you're going down with me. I appreciate the gesture, but you're really too petite to hold me up." However, I could not really refuse her when she looked at me with her sweet quiet smile, said "Teacher." and held out her hand. She is one of the quieter ones in class, and just in general. She has a very soothing motherly spirit. She surprised me with knowing more English than I realized at one point saying "Teacher Iana, come over this way." Which might not sound like much, but the students didn't know all their colors and didn't know any shapes, and most struggled to even answer the questions "What is your name, and how old are you?" So for her to pull out a six word senance with proper word order that I had not taught her was surprising and comforting as I continued falling down the mountain with her doing her best to find me a good way to follow the trail. Once we got down, some of the kids laughed at how dirty my pants had gotten from my slipping in the mud so much, which was pretty funny. My little tour-guide/mother for the day just calmly, without many words got some water from the other kids and helped me to clean my hands and my wounds from sliding through a thornbush at one point. Then she ground up some leaves in her palm and dabbed my wounds with it, which stung so I assume it had some cleansing property. Just in case you are wondering if it was worth it since I got hurt, it absolutely was. The view at the top was amazing, and it was nice to see the kids outside of school and doing something that they love! Just spending time with this beautiful young lady made it totally worth it.

Before heading up. I think the hill behind us might be the one we climbed, but do not let it deceive you into thinking it was easy. It might have been fine with stairs....there were no stairs, handrails, or even a path

My team! Can you tell how sweet and motherly the girl in the back is?

This is the trail after being hacked at with the machete

Such a cool kid

Thankfully someone mentioned this makes
you itchy right before I touched it! 

Two of the most giving (and fun!) people I have met

This is my arm after being cleaned and having the leaves rubbed on.

This is how dirty Peter's hands were at the end.

Sunday brought a service at Peter's mother's compound. Weiguo, the friend from Singapore, shared some of his testimony and encouraged the children to run the good race. The service was in Mandarin translated to Lisu, so the only part I understood was my own opening prayer! After service we ate a delicious lunch (as always. The Lisu are fantastic cooks!) and then took a bus to Hsipaw.

Our bus to Hsipaw was not a VIP bus.

The purpose of going to Hsipaw was strictly tourism, and I did not really want to go, especially because it was my last week in the country. It was only for a day and a half though, and everyone was encouraging me to go, so I agreed. In the mysterious way of life and God, I went for rest and to get away from being surrounded by languages I don't understand, and then the very first thing that happened was we were invited to a Lisu home where no one spoke English. We went back again the next morning and one of the most touching moments on the trip happened. We had just finished praying for some of the people in the house who were a little sick when a new young woman I had not seen before came in. I was told she wanted prayer because she was sick too. I could tell this already. She was so frail and way overdressed for the heat in her fuzzy sweatshirt. After I'd prayed for her, which was a more moving experience than usual, I felt an overflowing love for the woman and the strong directive and need to hug her. I asked through Peter's translation if that would be okay with her, and was apprehensive of getting a no as hugging is not common in her culture. I got a shy yes and squatted down in the dirt to be level with where she perched on a stool. As I started to hug her I said "May the Lord bless and keep you." and asked Peter to translate that. Once he did I was suprised to feel her body start to shake with sobs. I held her while she cried, and until her own arms wrapped around me loosened minutes later. She thanked me, and then disappeared behind the house after some handshakes and headnods. I do not normally have people crying in my arms, and am very thankful I went to Hsipaw and had the chance to show this woman that she is loved by God. 

The rest of the day was spent biking around the city. We saw some beautiful rice farms, a corn factory, and a number of muddy, but very picturesque rivers. It was a very lovely day that ended with very lobster skin, which had both of my Asian (and barely sunburnt) friends laughing.

Little Began

Corn Factory

Tuesday morning we took the 5:15am bus back to Lashio, only to discover that both the Bible students, and my afternoon class were busy with other things and I therefore did not have teaching. I wound up sleeping all the way to lunch, and then went out with Peter to buy snacks for the kids as a goodbye present. One of the women in the market commented on the fact that I was wearing a floor length skirt like the Burmese women traditionally do, while many of the young Burmese women are wearing short skirts today. She found it ironic that I would be more modest, and was very approving of my outfit.

Wednesday was a day of goodbyes for all my students as I took an overnight bus down to the capital Thursday afternoon. My afternoon classes sang some songs for me in their wonderful enthusiastic fashion. They also gave some thank you speeches through Jenayvy's translation after we had our final English lesson. They came so far, and I'm so proud of them. They were the hardest to leave because I spent the most time with them. I'll admit to you I started to cry a little bit as we drove our motor scooters out of there. The only reason I was not crying a lot is because I am confident I will return, and if I do I should see most of them again. I am thankful I was able to get a group shot, and a photo of me with each child one by one. I wanted to give them all huge hugs goodbye, but instead resigned myself to the standard left hand on right elbow handshake, lots of waving, and lots of smiles. A few of the boys went running along side us as we drove out. It reminded me of my little brother who regularly does the same.

I love these kids!!

My sweet little mama. Some of us get the mother spirit young and strong.
So happy to have been able to bond with this quiet one who reminds me of
myself. She's the only one rested her head on my shoulder for the photo, with
the rest mostly posing like the young man below.

For dinner that night we went more than half an hour outside of the downtown to a river with lakes and a dam. The view was beautiful, and I really enjoyed the extra long motorscooter ride.

The kids used the dam as a free water slide

After dinner it was time for another goodbye party with both my evening class, and the Bible students. They had a small church service of sorts with hymns, a thank you, a present of the most colorful bag I've ever owned, and prayer. Then it was my turn to say something, and to give the kids the snacks I got for them. One of the women joked that I was the best kind of teacher, one that feeds their students!

A meeting before my farewell party

They really wanted me to take pictures of them eating their snacks and I kept hearing "Teacher!" yelled from different tables, only to turn and see them ready and posed.

These kids have personality and enthusiasm!!

So many lasts one after the other. Thursday was my last day in Lashio. I slept very little that night because I stayed up painting thank you cards for Peter's family because I literally could not find any cards at all in Lashio or Hsipaw, except at one shop where I found some unloved rather dusty looking birthday cards.Then it was off to the bus station for a fifteen hour bus ride to the capital.

How did I do?

My favorite was the one I painted for Peter's mother

Heading off to school after lunch break.

Thankfully we had a very good driver for these crazy turns

Now, the day after that long bus ride, I'm finishing this in the Ho Chi Minh airport. My flight has been delayed, and I've walked some laps around the airport, gotten food, and finished writing up this monstrously long post. So if you are bored and forcing your way through reading this, blame me being stuck in an airport without internet or people to talk to. Also, if you are bored and forcing your way through this, I can only assume it's because you love me. Thanks, I love you too!

The view at the restaurant where I ate my last diner in Myanmar

Ho Chi Minh City!

That's well over enough for now, I'll go back to reading!

Please be asking that:

• I do what I was brought here to
• The children back in Myanmar are well
• That I stay well, I do not really have time to get sick.
• That I would get enough sleep
• That my planning meeting for volunteering at Vision Cafe will go well tomorrow night.

Thanks y'all!!!!9

Church in a Hostel

 Last Sunday, I got to visit my afternoon students at their hostel. It was not the easiest place to get to, but not the hardest either. I stopped first at the directors' house, and after I had my passenger securely seated behind me, I followed the directors on motorbike the twenty minute journey. I was warned at the beginning that it was a "dusty road" and it was a good thing I had "long feet". The beginning of the trip was fine. We went up and down relativity well paved roads and I got to see just a little bit more of this country. Then we turned into a dirt road, and it was still fine because it was hard packed and easy to drive on. Then we got to the part that might be dusty in the dry season, but at this point was mud. When I say mud I don't mean little easily avoidable puddles, I mean the entire road from one side to the other for multiple stretches of up to fifteen feet is inches of very slippery clay. The kind of clay mud that makes very good bricks, and is pigmented enough to stain your skin orange. At the worst part my passenger had to get off and walk and I was starting to wonder if I should ask to leave the bike and walk myself! The motorscooter slipped so much and I was somewhat desperately using my legs to stabilize it while trying not to step directly in a puddle. At one point I lost my shoe in the mud and wondered why I was even wearing shoes. Just when I was getting ready to tell them I didn't think I could do it, we turned again into a dry and very hard packed path. I hoped there were no more bad mud patches, and to my relief the path we were on was the driveway and we were shortly at the hostel.

The kids were all milling around, and laughed when I took photos of my feet to show you all what getting to church was like that day. I've never arrived so filthy to church before, and thankfully I did not actually attend the service in this state. A few different kids took turns drawing buckets of water up from the well for me to wash my feet with. I realized pretty quickly that my feet and legs were stained orange so there was only so clean looking I was going to get. Also, this was very sticky clay and I started to get embarrassed at how long it was taking me to wash up and eventually decided it was good enough, especially because I had to go home via the same muddy road.

Church itself was a simple and heartfelt affair. Something that has really stood out to me is how all three of my student groups sing. They are loud! and they look so involved in what they are singing. Many of them shut their eyes, raise their arms, and belt out the words at the top of their lungs with scrunched up ernest faces.

I was asked to share a message with the kids. Either preaching or give my testimony. Preaching seemed so beyond me, especially with the time frame I was given to prepare, so I chose the later. I told the kids about how my story of faith really starts with my mother who became a Christian only after she had my older sister and realized she needed to figure out how to nurture her soul as well as her body. I told them my mother read to me from the Bible every night when I was growing up and there is not any point in time that I can remember not believing in God and trusting Him. I told them I thought growing up that I would live a rather boring and quiet life and my plan was to be a wife and mother. That I went to a three month Bible school program when I was seventeen and did a lot of praying about the future. I asked God what He wanted me to do with my life. One night He answered and told me I was to go to Vietnam and help Orphan Voice. I knew very little about this organization, had never given them money, rarely prayed for them, and did not even read all their newsletters. I did not even know if they allowed people to visit them to help out. I dismissed it as a very strange thought and not the voice of God...until I checked my email the next day and I had an email from Orphan Voice saying that they had some teams coming from the U.S., including one from Massachusetts (where I was living at the time) and they needed more people to join. I told them I was very scared of doing such a thing. The farthest my parents had gone from home was Tijuana, Mexico (which if you don't know is a city that borders the U.S., aka they did not go very far at all!) World travel was not something familiar. It took faith, courage, and obedience to go to Vietnam that first time. There was something surreal about traveling to the exact opposite side of the world as far as I could be from home when my own parents had never left the continent, and had never even gone to countries that did not border our own. I told the kids that when I was little I was scared a lot. I did not tell them that I used to sing a song about how God was with me and I did not have to be afraid literally every single time I had to go into my basement by myself for years. I told them that I still get scared a lot of the time, but I did not tell them that I was scared (nervous) in that very moment presenting at their simple church service. I told them how important it is to obey God. That God might ask them to travel to the other side of the world, but He might ask them to stay home and help their neighbors and family. I told them how happy I was that I had said okay and gone when God told me to, especially because if I had not, I would not have been talking to them in that moment. The only reason I am typing this blog post in a Burmese hotel in northern Myanmar is because a friend heard me talking about my trips to Vietnam and said "You should go to Myanmar and help my mom. She runs an orphanage there." I still am an easily intimidated person and I think that I would have been quite happy and content to be a wife and mom who never strayed far from home. However, this life is better. My travels make me rely on God more closely and grow my faith. The kids I have met will stay with me forever. Asia feels like home in a almost bizarrely effortless way. I am never more happy and fulfilled as when I feel like I am being useful and making a difference, and I feel like I do here. Enough talking for now. Enjoy the photos I took after church below!

This baby does not like me.

This girl amazes me with how chic she pulls off being all the time.

Fun fact: three of these kids are related. The girl in the black jacket is the sister of the smiling boy, and the other young man in the background. 

The directors' girl loves all her playmates

Drawing water is serious business.

Front shot of the sister from three photos ago

Eating salt water taffy. They all seemed to like
this strange new American candy.

The way the kids look out for each other is a beautiful example of how anyone can make up a loving family.

Trying to reach a leaf

He is often serious and quiet, but that only makes his quiet jokes during class
 funnier.  Today I was asking a student what they were doing (looking for the
answer sitting in a chair) and he mumbled in the back "going home".

This girl is a born mother. She has no blood tie to the baby, but the baby looks to
her as a caretaker, and the girl gladly responds.

Of these children in this hostel only one is a true orphan with the rest pretty evenly divided between single parent homes, and both parents being alive. They stay at a hostel (really a home) because their parents are poor farmers, and many of them are addicted to heroin. These children would not have the chance to go to school, to church, and to have bright futures if they stayed at home. They might not even have enough to eat. These children, the others that I teach at night, and my Bible students are all cared for by different members of the same family. They have no large charity backing them. They have no charity backing them, except the charity of friends. They are not rich people, but they have been sharing what they have with others for years. The woman whose home my evening class lives in has had children staying at her home for longer than I have been alive. 

If you would like to financially support any of these three groups you can send me a check in the mail (preferably in the next two days) and my loyal assistant (my mom) will deposit it in my bank account and I will withdraw the money here in Myanmar and give it to the right person/people. I can assure you the money will be well spent. I wish I had more to give myself! If you do want to give, make out the check to Tatiana Martin with Myanmar in the memo. You can further designate it to Bible students, afternoon class, or evening class. If undesignated I will evenly split it between all three. Mail the check to:

11 Dandiview Acres

Seabrook, NH 03874

Prayer Requests:

• That the weather would be nice on Saturday (aka not raining) so that we can go on our planned hike and foraging with the afternoon class.
• That I will be heathy
• That I will do a good job in my last week of teaching (how do I only have a week left?!?!)
• That the students will remember what they have learned
• That their caretakers, this amazing family will have the rest, health, support, and strength they need to continue in their good work
• That all their financial needs will continue to be met

Thanks and love to you all!!!