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!!!