Memories and Minutes

Five hundred twenty five thousand six hundred minutes
Five hundred twenty five thousand moments, oh dear
Five hundred twenty five thousand six hundred minutes
How do you measure, measure a year?

            525,600 minutes, that's how long it's been since I moved away from the States; And so much has happened! Moving to France, traveling through Europe, learning French, meeting awesome people, cutting my hair off, getting my nose pierced, moving to Congo, seeing Vanga for the first time, feeling a baby inside the womb for the first time, and so on. It's been a year of growing for me, a year of learning and a year of adventure!! I am so blessed to have made such new, great, lasting friendships and to have old friends come visit me as well as family!! I loved all the weekend trips I took with my one-of-a-kind parents!! These last 365 days, I have learned more about my parents than ever before and they have become my friends. It hasn't been all peaches and cream (although that does sound good in this African heat) there were plenty of trials and there are now and will be, but with God's, my parent's and my many, many wonderful friends I made it through and will continue too!!! It has been one of the best 12 months of my life and I hope to have many more just as full of adventure, travel and amazing people!! Here's some photos that I haven't posted yet, because well....the internet isn't great, I wanted to post more but well.... the internet.

Heidi and I at my French Language School Graduation!! She has great taste in coffee, music and movies!!! (I mean what else matters.....)

Greg and I saying a final goodbye. It has been the worst part about the last 12 months.

The past 365 days, Heidi and Roxy (aka Charity) have shown me some of the best films including V for Vendetta!!

Guarana Antarctica, the best soda, shout out to Jonathan who introduced me on my birthday!

Yay for Gecko friends and Megan friends who make moving much better!

High on the happiness of traveling and adventuring!

Irene and I, Irene is one of my friends here in Vanga; we're still working through cultural differences including smiling in pictures!! 

Thank you for all of you have followed my wanderings and have supported me through all of it with kind word, prayers and well-timed Skype calls!!!

Wanted One French Alps City, Goes by the Alibi Albertville

Our visit to Paris!!

This is a journal entry I wrote a couple of days ago, while I was in Kinshasa. I found myself surprisingly homesick and wrote about what I was missing. Here it is, with some edits and additions for clarification!

Today, I was looking at a toy camera that the Lind Kids’ got in Paris and each time you pushed the shutter button, it would show pictures from Paris. Oddly, when I saw them, I got homesick….it’s not like we lived there or even visited often; but there was something about it that made me miss France.

Last picture in Albertville

 

Most of all, I miss the people, our short time with those people in Albertville. I miss my classmates, who made class fun and the talk of cockroaches ever-present! J I miss Greg’s love of limes and sassy comments, Tom and Melissa’s shared coffee, Rachael’s perfectly understandable notes, Bryant’s love of brownies in yogurt containers, Patrick’s stories of his son’s eating habits, Donette’s healthy in-class snacks, Susan and Melissa’s unintentional matching outfits and Nathan’s good explanations. I miss my friends there (this not extensive, if it was you’d be here for quite a while). I miss Jonathan’s amazing guitar playing, Sarah’s sarcasm, Amanda’s always available hugs, Heidi’s sassy spunk, Roxy’s listening and presents (not the gift kind), Julia’s love of Gilmore Girls, Pascal’s readiness to go, Emma’s art talent, and Naomi’s silliness! I miss Anne and her laugh, her cough. I miss her gentle corrections and quick smile. I miss living in such a close-knit community.

Family Friend Photo

I miss my friends there who didn’t go to the language school. Our language partners, David and Isabelle, who are sweet, kind and hospitable. Roxanne, Fanny and Anaelle and our laughing and observing. Allen, I miss him too with his warm smile and quick bisou. His constant compliments. His commenting on my Savoyard accent with his Savoyard accent.

Hiking in Albertville

I miss being a hop away from Sydney. I miss walks to the clear, swift river. I miss ConFlans (our medieval city). I miss being a courtyard away from my friends. I miss quick internet and plenty of pillows. (Not sure where that came from…) I miss having full #CongoTeam dinners and bringing baked goods down a flight of stairs to the Linds. I miss boulangeries and delicious cheese.

I miss my coffee shop. The Wednesdays I spent there with Heidi and Roxy and our frappes. I miss Tuesday night movie nights with stellar movies and delicious “lemonade.” I miss night walks. I miss the lights of my city from way up high. The way they glowed and reminded me to look up at the many stars up above. I miss cooking and being able cook several course meals from Julia Child’s cookbook. For euro prices that I can understand and little grocery shops. My heart aches for it.

Albertville at night!

Albertville won’t ever be the same and, honestly, I’ll probably never go back. Maybe, but it’s not an easy place to get to. I had my little stay there. I was put there at the right time with the right people. I love my Albertville. It is my home. St. Louis don’t worry so are you, but now I have 2 homes. Soon, I’m sure another will be added, but Vanga hasn’t felt like home, yet; but it will come with time, it will come.

Playing with Mama

But there are tastes of Albertville here, tastes that make moving easier. The Linds are just a short MAF plane ride away and the Potters are just a walk across the village. Both families have been to our home in St. Louis, our apartment in Albertville and our house in Vanga, they’re our family and friends here and I am so very thankful to have them so close.

I spy a Lindian!

The Strange Predicament of Being Called Nounou

     "My highlight is probably finally being here, it's just so nice after years of preparation to final be at the finish line; to actually know what we were working towards. Another thing that's been really nice is finally knowing what I'm going to do with my gap year, at least for the most part. Working for my Aunt Rebecah, doing YWAM, looking at universities...I just have a clearer plan, which is nice. The only problem is that means I have to realize that in May, I'll be leaving." I turned to the wall, hiding my face from the others around the dinner table. I look over at Sydney whose playing beside the table, smiling up at me. "It's hard because I really want to a part of..." I cover my eyes with my hands, and stop, unable to continue. I pull my hand away, wet. "I just really want Sydney to remember me, I want to be part of her life." Now tears are just pouring down my cheeks, and as I look over, Shannon's checks are also wet. "It's hard because she's so young and she probably won't remember me. And yeah, I am going to try and visit, but it's not...." I can't go on. "She'll remember you, when kids have big life changing events when they're young they usually remember something. I remember when I moved when I was 3." I nodded, "Yeah, that's true.... And I am going to try and see you whenever you guys are in the states, no matter where ya'll are at. If you guys end up staying here, then when I visit my family, I can also visit you. Leaving and having to say goodbye to Sydney is definitely my lowlight."
     This is my predicament for all of Sydney's life, I've lived in the same city. I met her as a sweet red-headed newborn, a day after she'd been born, in the hospital. I held her in my arms the second day of her life and I've held her for many after. For the first 10 months of her life, I would watch her whenever and as much as they needed me to, which wasn't very much. I was still a part of her life, able to get to her with a 15 minute drive. Then, our families moved. I watched her 4 days a week and saw her everyday, all day, as she only had to crawl and then later on walk, across a hallway to get my house. Then, our families moved once again, this time to Congo. It was a big transition on many front, instead of being 3 steps from each other, we are now a 10 minute walk. Our commute is now 10 x longer than it was in France. But I also saw another transition happening, somewhat undetected during our larger transition, I saw Sydney transition from baby to toddler. It had already started happening even before I realized it, but as I saw her running around the airports while waiting for flights, I knew it had happened. We've been through quite a few big transitions. But we won't always go through transitions together. We won't always live in the same city. I have to go university at some point, live on my own and get a job. I won't always be able to touch that beautiful, round, toddler face. I won't always be able to mess with her spunky, red curls, that I promise she gets from me. I won't always be able to get an extra-tight squeeze and a sweet kiss from my little Fraggle. And that breaks my heart. Honestly, it breaks my heart. I love her with all my heart, no matter what. I want you to know that, Sydney. Someday, when you can read, I'll show you this, so you can know how much your Nounou loves you. I will always be here for you whether or not we live in the same city. I will always be ready to Skype or message you. I will always want to give you advice on things that you're struggling with. I love you, my darling. You will always be my Sydney Fraggle and I will always be your Nounou.

In a Whirlwind

In a whirlwind of travel and friends it’s hard for reality to set in; but it’s still there lurking in the dark corner of your mind, waiting for those quiet moments to creep onto center stage. It’s the time when you’re awake in bed, it’s when there’s a lull in the CARversation, and even when you’re sitting on the toilet, that the show starts. The reality that I had to leave my home, again. That even though I love Albertville and all the mountains and boulangeries, I still have to leave. In the past 10 months, I have made so many friends, real friends, friends who understand the nooks and crannies of the transitions I am currently going through. The worst thing is that I had to leave them, our friendships had to shift and make adjustments that all long-distance friendships have to make. Adjustment that make my stomach turn inside out. I knew my time in Albertville would be short, that I would eventually have to leave, have to say those sickening goodbye; but even though I possessed that knowledge, I still made friends with some of the most down-to-earth, caring people. I sit here and they are sitting there, around the rest of the world. We were blown by our predetermined life plans, scattered, regardless of our wishes. Basically, goodbyes are the worst. I hate them, just like every other person, I think. In reality, I probably won’t see these people again, we’re all over the world, which made the goodbyes extremely hard. I will try very hard to keep in contact with these awesome people, but it’s a two-way street and Africa doesn’t always have great internet. I am very thankful for those who are working with me to continue our friendship. I love you guys!

Throughout our travels, I would get stuck on these feelings; and then I would look to what was next for me. Honestly, the next step in my life is very blurry. I saw where I was going, Congo, but I hadn’t ever been there or even to Africa. I didn’t have the security of knowing what it would be like. Yes, I had been told many stories about Kinshasa and about Vanga, but that only goes so far. It’s hard to leave something so good, so amazing, and head to something unknown.

Along with all the other great things about living in France, learning French was one! French has been so useful, here in Congo. Sure, it would be great if I also knew Lingala and, maybe some Kituba, but hey… I am able to actually talk with the two Congolese pastors that stayed at our house in St. Louis! We are able to understand and when I don’t know a word or have trouble understanding them, they are very patient. I think my hours of stressing out over exams and class actually sort of paid off!!

One day while we were in Kinshasa, we went and visited one of the schools that New City Fellowship supports. The school is run by Papa David and has around 200 students in it.        When we arrived we talked with Papa David and some of the other pastors; but the longer we talked the more little heads peeked over the gate. After a bit, the students came in the schoolyard and sat, watching us talk. Finally, Papa David turned to them and invited them to come meet us. Smiling, they trotted over to shake hands.  Mom taught them a simple hand-slapping games, which they liked even though the rules were a bit foggy. Megan and I picked up the cue and started playing with the others. After a few games of muddle hands, we evolved it into a simpler version. The kids, then sang along, both in English, French and Lingala. It was a fun time of connecting with the kids and loving on them. This is the sort of thing I hope to be able to do, to touch the lives of kids in tough situations, whether it’s in Africa, France or America. I want to be able to use my talents and passions to help out others. I hope that my time here in Africa will be a way for God to open the door to touching people’s lives. Sometimes I feel like I don’t have anything to bring to the table. I feel that way a lot, and it’s in those times that I have to a remember moments like this; moments that feel small to me, but bring smiles to other people’s faces.

I walk down the dusty street surrounded by my family. We are walking to a Kinshasa missionary’s house. We past many staring faces, up ahead a policeman/solider/guard is talking to another man. My dad who is walking in front of me says good evening to the man as he walks away from policeman, the conversation apparently over. As the man passes, I say good evening and he nods to me politely. My dad passes the policeman and with a burst of American forgetfulness, I say good evening to him as well. He turns, looking me up and down, smiling.. gahh, bad idea…. “Eh mama, mwa! Good evening to you! Mmmn, you are so beautiful, eh.” I look down at my feet and continue on. Sadly, this was the normal in Kinshasa, anywhere Megan or I would go. And no, for all who say it’s flattering for women to get catcalled, it’s not. The only reason we were catcalled was because of our skin color. It’s the one lowlight of being in Kinshasa, and that’s the honest truth.

A couple of nights ago, the Linds and us reunited for the first time since we said goodbye at the Kinshasa airport. O Poeta (a pizza restaurant in Kinshasa), screaming kids, and hair trimming were all done. We got to see their wonderful, “spacious” new home and catch up on all that had happened that week. It also meant saying goodbye again and this time not just for a week. It was going all fine when just as the others were getting into the car. Axel (who is notorious for only wanting his parents to hold him) reached out for me. I took him and gave him a big hug; and as I tried to give him back to Lisa (his mom) he started fussing and trying to hold onto me. It was such a precious, heart wrenching moment. I turned away, hearing him scream and whine as I left. I turned around, tears falling and saw that it wasn’t just Axel and I who were crying, but Lisa also. Goodbyes are hard, especially to family.

Vanga, I saw you, first, from hundreds of meters away, up in the sky. You were small and large at the same time. Your palm trees blanketing the sandy ground with green, purple orchids adding polka dots of color. I saw your river, brown and alive. Smoke rising from fires and fields. I saw your hospital welcoming us, as every other traveler, with the double “HI!” Your people hearing and seeing the small MAF plane, looking up and waving; some breaking into a run heading towards the airport. I see what I am told is my home peeking through the trees; a flash of white among the green. The sandy ground gets closer, reaching out to hug the plane. A gentle nudge and we’re suddenly slowing down. Enchanté, Vanga!

Yesterday while the adults were having a meeting, Megan and I watched Sydney at the Potters house. We were running around the yard, chasing one another and soon enough there were little black fingers and eyes peeking through the gate. We went over and introduced ourselves; Megan started a impromptu game of catch with the big, flat, shiny pits lying on the ground. Soon enough, there were 20 kids playing and laughing and having a grand time. After a while new kids would come and old kids would leave, it was a never-ending cycle of kids. Mamas and Papas would stop and smiling watching us interact and play with the kids. It was here that I met, Irene, a French speaking woman who is probably a little older than me. We talked and talked while watching the kids, at this point I was holding Sydney who had gotten too tired and overwhelmed. The kids would ask her question every once in a while in Lingala or Kituba. She would then translate their questions into French, so that I could answer them. Once it started getting dark, I told her we had to go to which she replied, “Let’s go then, I’ll walk with you.” The four of us, then set out towards our house, but we made a detour to her house. There we met her mother and got to see where she lived. The rest of the way home we talked about everything, from cutting Megan’s hair off so that Irene could have to getting catcalled to Kinshasa! I can’t wait to talk to her again!!

For the second day in a row, we threw on our swimsuits and jumped into the Kwilu River. After a long day of unpack and toddler chasing, it’s just the refreshing thing you need.  Sydney got to float down the current with her new lifejacket. The water was slightly cold and murky, we saw thousands of hippos in their annual migration to South Africa. But first they had to give hugs to the local villager, Qkuah Mudelele. But in reality, there were no hippo sightings, maybe next tomorrow….

AND NOW A SHORT ANOUNCEMENT FROM MEGAN: Gecko friends are highly prevalent. High ratings on the cuteness scale; 68.9. They like to stick on the ceiling but don’t seem to want to converse with us… or be associated with us in any way… when I waved to one in a friendly manner it then proceeded to scurry out of sight. Rude. BUT, for some reason I do still believe we are friends. 

Darn Renault Clio

    The car trembled again as I looked to the trees. "It's not the wind, that's shaking our car." I said to Alison and Julia. "And you're sure I'm not somehow causing it?" Alison asked looking around our rental car. "No, it's not you. We should pull over." I replied as Alison pulled into a pharmacy parking lot. Then we heard it, the terrible tick, it was coming from our engine and I knew I had to call someone. I got out of the car, trying to locate exactly what and where the sound was. I pulled my phone out and dialed in Dad's number. No answer. I called Mom's. No answer. Thankfully though, we live in an apartment building filled with other students; and I was able to call our downstairs superhero, Matthew, who got me connected with Dad.

Dad: Hello? What's going on?
Me: Hey Dad.... It's Nancy. Um, it looks like we put unleaded in our diesel car... We just filled up about 15 minutes ago, we thought our car took unleaded, so we filled it up and kept driving. But our car keeps shaking and now we hear this terrible ticking from the front of our car.... Are we going to die?
Dad: Well, that's not good. No, you aren't going to die, but you do need to get the diesel out of the gas tank. (Here he went into the reasons why our car was shaking and making the terrible ticking.) You should call Hertz and figure out what they want you to do. You might be able to siphon the gas out of the tank, but I'm not sure. It might also be good to try and get to the nearest service station if you can.
Me: Okay, I'll see if we can find one and call Hertz. Talk to you in a minute.

     So here we are, on the outskirts of Marseilles, France, with our broken rental car on a hot Saturday afternoon. I found the Hertz emergency number and called them next. I then proceeded to talk with the Hertz employee for 5 minutes explaining our situation; but when He asked for specific information about our rental agreement, I hung up. Being a Rice, I wanted to make sure that we had exhausted all cheaper options, before going through Hertz. Then, I received a text from Dad saying that we should find the nearest service station and see if they had a bucket and a hose, so we could try to siphon the gas out of our car.

     Before we headed to the gas station, Alison, Julia and I decided to walk to our hotel which was supposedly just down the street. We walked right to where the GPS said it would be, but all we could find were closed shops. 10 minutes later, we decided that we needed to head to service station.
      "You have arrived at your destination." The GPS, now called George, cheerfully told us. There we were standing in front of a closed gate, we look through the bars, but it didn't look anything like a gas station. Shaking my head, I walked back to the parking lot of the next building where there were two people working on some construction machinery.
     I approached them, trying to calm the butterflies. "Um, bonjour. J'ai une question un peu bizarre." I stuttered, hoping that the workers would be understanding. I continued to explain our predicament: How we needed a bucket and hose, as well as asking where the nearest service station was. Worker #1 turned to Worker #2 who was up on the large machine, relaying my situation and asking where the nearest open gas station was. Worker #2 was unsure which gas stations were open, because as worker #1 told me later, if it's a hot day in France most business will close and go to the beach. Great. The nearest open station was too far to walk. After some dispute, worker #1 said that she could take one person in her car to the nearest gas station. I turned to Alison and Julia and relayed all that had happened. We decided that I should go with Worker #1 because I was the only who was actually taking French classes and I knew the most French. Alison and Julia, in the mean time, would try to find our hotel and meet me at the car after checking in at the hotel. I said goodbye to Alison and Julia and got into the car.

      After about 5 minutes of driving, we passed a service station, as we passed Worker #1 told me, they're at the beach. We continued to pass 2 more gas station that were closed before we reached the one gas station that was opened on Saturday. We went into service store and with the help with Worker #1, I bought 5 liters of diesel. But when I explained again that I needed a hose and large bucket so that I could siphon the gas out, the service station worker laughed at me. "You can't siphon gas out of a rental car, especially a new one. Now, they have protections so people don't steal your gas." I sighed, looking around but there wasn't a hose or bucket even for sale.

    Once I was back with Alison and Julia, I explained all that had happened, but I still had hope of finding the materials we needed to siphon out the gas. I even went to a florist and asked if they had a large bucket that I could buy off them, but I don't think they trusted me and wouldn't sell me one. Finally, we had to face it, we would have to go through Hertz. We had tried to find a cheaper option, but we had exhausted our other option.

     I called Hertz and told them all that happened in a mixture of French and English, because when you push "2" for a representative who speaks English, you really get someone with a thick French accent whose English is really just French. They told me that they would send a tow truck to get our car. Afterwards, a taxi would come get us to take us to the nearest open Hertz office to get our new car. Worker #1 had shown me where our hotel was, so while we waited for the tow truck, Alison went to check in to our hotel which was a 15 minute walk away. The tow truck came and took our car away, unfortunately by that time all the Hertz office were closed except the one at the airport, so we took a 70 euro taxi ride to pick up our new rental car. Finally, after 5 hours of stress, we were able to go to our hotel, after getting lost several times through rush hour Marseilles.

The view from our bnb on Friday night.

     I am glad to report that was the only low light of this past weekend. Alison, Julia and I were on a weekend road trip through the south of France when this happened, but everything worked out. We had that morning seen the beautiful, just blooming lavender fields and driven along beautiful mountain roads. The lavender was a beautiful blue/purple and smelled amazing. We were early enough in the summer that there weren't any other people there, it was just us and the lavender! The next day, we went to Cassis, a cute little town on the the Mediterranean Sea, and relaxed on the beach. It was a wonderful weekend, even with our little hiccup. Alison and Julia, you are both beautiful, wonderful, and great travel buddies. Alison, thanks for having good taste in music and giving us jams to enjoy on our drive. Julia, thanks for putting up with my crazy slap-happy jokes and cracking up too!

Our BNB on Saturday morning

Alison walking by the windmill.

The Windmill

Beautiful, large lavender fields

They smelled so amazing!

I love all the colors!

Candid photo, Alison was just really excited to be there!

Oh, hello, just a little house in the middle of the lavender.

Beautiful little chapel. We were there just in time to here the bells!

Stormy mountains on the way home.

Mountain Shades

Sunset Sunday night!

Sisterhood of the Adventuring Sisters

     A couple of weekends ago, I had the great privilege of getting to spend time with two of my wonderful sisters; it was a time of laughter, tears and a good-ole times! Here are some late picture from their visit, because, like they say, a pictures worth a thousand words. Afterwards, there is a verse inspired by their visit, sorry for the lateness!

What won't a Rice do for a good picture?!

Sister Selfie!

Enjoying fresh orange juice! We Rices, love our orange juice!

      

Sisterhood of the Adventuring Sisters

By Nancy Rice

     Some call us sisters, some call us The Little Women, some call us Those Crazy Rice Kids, but we're actually much more than that. We're once roommates, best friends, co-workers at the Rice's Weirdness Factory. We've seen each other at our best and at our worst. We fight, we tackle-hug, we over share; We are slices in one delicious Diana-made pie. We get each other, in a way no one else can. You are totally yourself around your sisters, you just let it all hang out and know they'll love you anyway. To my sisters who have been there since day one, who have help me learn how to walk, talk and be true to myself, I LOVE YOU!!

   

My Brain is Funny, Weird Place

      Hey ya'll! I know it's been a minute since I've blogged, but well, life gets busy. Luckily for you, I have a two week break and so I should be posting more frequently. This morning, we packed up and drove the 3ish hours to the Mediterranean! We'll be here til Monday! (pictures on Facebook) Anyway, this blog is going to be a rant about a lot of random things I'm passionate about/things I love a lot. If you like my mind and how bizarre it is, then read on!
      First off, I really love dogs. I have always had a pet dog growing up and can I say they are the best ever! They make great vacuum cleaners! For example, if you drop food on the ground, they will gobble that right up, no need to clean the floors! They also are really nice and there are so many different types of dogs! There's basically a type of dog for everyone! Like if you want a little lap dog for to cuddle with, you can get one; if you want a big dog to do awesome snow-sledding with, you can get one! There're just endless possibilities! They are great friends, both of my dogs let me bully them so much. It wasn't even really bullying, just intense love. Like you know, when a toddler sees another toddler they really like, they just have to tackle hug them. (I should know, I hang out with quite a few toddlers now) Well, it's basically the same thing! Dogs are just the best and if you don't have one you should get one! (P.S. I might be missing my dog, Shadow, just maybe)
     Music is probably the best thing ever. No matter how you feel, there is always music to match it! It's also great to study to; I am so much more productive with music! It keeps the boredom away! Also, true fact, listening to Mozart while you study helps you remember it better! Mozart, you genius! Music helps motivate you! It can just get you pumped for anything from a basketball game to doing the dishes! For example, tonight I was hesitant to volunteer to do the dishes, (I know, I am such a terrible person) but then I realized I could listen to music while I did them and was super excited about it! Hooray music! You know who's great to listen to music with.... your dog! They like every type of music and sometimes they sing along!
     Sunset, can we just talk about sunsets?! They are seriously gorgeous! They are better than sunrises, because then you don't have to wake up early to see the sunrise. Plus, after the sunset, you get to see the city lights come on; which is awesome in itself! Sunset are beautiful and there is nothing like them! One of my goals in life is to see sunsets in the most beautiful places on earth. How awesome would that be to travel around the world and experience all the most gorgeous sunsets ever! I mean, it sounds like a good plan to me. We got to see the sunset tonight and it was just beautiful. It set just over the edge of the Mediterranean!  Well, that's all the brain babble for now!