I debated only telling one story about today so that I could really give it the attention it deserved but I decided against it due to its depressing content and my extreme optimism.
Today Laurel wore a shirt that she made with her campers at Deaf Kids camp last year. The front was plain and the back was covered in handprints. Of course nobody thought anything about it, amongst our team. In the car, well, piled in the back of the truck, on the way to dinner, after a long day at Nzeve Rick* turned to Laurel and said. "Laurel, do you have a jacket?" Laurel, kind of quizical replied "Yes." and Rick* said "If you would please, you might want to consider wearing it until you arrive home this evening." Which was Shona culture for put on your jacket and do not take it off until you arrive home tonight! Don't take it off if your life depended on it! Shona culture is very "round about."
What was happening is that we had been at Nzeve all day which is a sort of compound, so it didn't really matter, but when we went into downtown Mutare Rick decided to let us know that the open hand symbol was a sign of the opposition party to the government. That T-shirt alone could have landed our whole team in a Zimbabwian jail or gotten us "politically disappeared" which is a phrase meaning visited by the military officals at night and never seen again. I am censoring this entry because I do not know the readers of my blog and you don't need to hear the horrors I heard today.
*___________________* 
Political rallies are completely forbidden in Zimbabwe and 2 people can technically be considered a rally, so even if you are just waving to your friend you can be put in jail for using the open hand shape.
On our trip we are not allowed to take pictures of, or even have cameras out in front of policemen. We are absolutely forbidden from saying anything political in fear that someone might hear it. *______*
Dear Lord in that moment today, I was scared and on the 12th I get to leave. Please be with all the Zimbabwians *______* I don't understand it Lord, help me understand. Amen.
Okay now the heart warming stories about cute babies and deaf toddlers. Today we thought we were going to get to sleep in, but Libby called last night and said she had an unexpected meeting so she needed us to come to Nzeve and teach the Deaf Pre-schoolers all day. We didn't even have a lesson plan, but it was a blessed day. We taught about feet and the letter "F." We took off our shoes and passed a feather around the circle in between our toes and I laughed and ignored the ring worm and aids scabs on the children because they were smiling. At tes a toddler with CP and Deaf, of course, was sitting at the table next to me. We said our prayers and began to eat. Then this boy that I had not seend make one facial expression all day, turned to me, twenty seconds after the prayer finished and when half of the kids had their sandwiches as mushy peaunut butter pulp shoved in their cheecks like chipmunks. The boy turned to me, struggled to get his hands to meet one another and he signed "A......men." Then my melted butter heart ripped out of my chest and slapped on the table with my jaw.
God provides success through great struggles. This boy lives in an extremely poor area of Zimbabwe, a country where the inflation rate has gotten so buy that it costs 1.3 million Zim dollars to buy 3 ice cream cones. He is Deaf which means most likely he will never have a job or be thought of be hearing people as equal and he has Cerebral Paulsy so he has to be carried everywhere he goes, but today he accomplished something that made him proud of himself (and me, and god, and the universe and beyound)
Just like the struggles the Zimbabwians are having with their poverty and oppression *___*, I am sure they will accomplish great things they can be proud of and we can all join together and cheer and cry and sign "A........MEN!"
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* indicates name change
*________* indicates material removed because it was too dangerous to post it on the internet.
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