Countdown to Christmas

It's been a few days already... I was unable to post due to lack of connection at my place.

We had to cheat a little since I didn't have everything I needed to go ahead with the Advent Calendar project from 1st December. We put everything together on Saturday morning instead. Here is the calendar in the making: I bought an assortment of Canson strong paper and cut stars for each day until 24 December.

Then I wrapped items that I thought could be useful in any household in pieces of wax print and hung one under each star.

The idea is that every day, we'll remove the gift and hang a Christmas decoration instead. Since the gift for 1st December was a bucket, we'll fill it with every gift we remove from the wall. As soon as possible after 24 December, we'll wrap the bucket nicely and take it to a Catholic sisters' dispensary for them to decide who among the underprivileged young mothers they help could best benefit from our effort.

1 December was an empty bucket.

2 December was powdered milk.

3 December was corned beef.

4 December was tinned tomato.

Now that we've caught up with the actual calendar, I will post pictures of the bucket being filled every day too.

It's this time of the year again

Whether you believe a lot, a little or not at all, in God in whatever form, chances are you are looking forward to Christmas, good food, meeting again people dear to you and exchanging gifts. These days, "they" (the shops, mostly) start massaging us towards spending a lot of money in less than essential stuff as soon as we are done buying school supplies. There is absolutely no way we can ignore it, and bringing up children in such an environment has its challenges, especially when you would rather teach them to make a distinction between "need" and "want".

I've been avoiding the excesses of Christmas for years, and completely dispensed with celebrating it (or birthdays) until my daughter started regular school and began coming home with claims of "that's how it is done everywhere" (bling dresses and shoes, elaborate hairdos, huge birthday parties, one-extracurricular-activity-a-day, to name a few). Now I feel the pressure to acknowledge that some days in the year must be merry because the calendar says so, but I'm still reluctant to let go of what I think is important, which includes sharing our relative material comfort with the less fortunate.

When my sister and I were small children, about the age my daughter is now, my mother would bake Alsatian Christmas cookies (bredele) and take us to hospitals to visit senior citizens who were abandoned there by their relatives over the holiday season. We would bring them cookies, our smiles and this unique grace children have, and visit with them for an hour or so. To this day, more than 40 years later, I consider this one of the most formative activities my mother devised for us. No matter that I would sometimes feel faint because of hospital smells and being a bit overwhelmed seeing very old, weak and sick people.

Our circumstances today are a bit different, we live in West Africa where I doubt relatives will drop grandma in hospital come Christmas to take her back once the holidays are over and done with. Besides, I have a special needs child who might not be able to behave for any length of time in a hospital. So when I read online that some people do what they call "Reverse Advent Calendar", I knew I had found something we can do as a family and that my daughter may understand.

I will post every day until 24 December pictures of our Reverse Advent Calendar basket getting filled  with goods, which I hope will be relevant and useful in our context. Enjoy the coming weeks and remember: "It is more blessed to give than to receive" (Acts 20:35).

Today's discovery - A dilettante feminist

I'm not very good at being a staunch feminist, but at the very least I'm a decent dilettante. Or so I want to believe. My interests in women's achievements are manifold, ranging from (economic) development to science and arts, among others.

Today I discovered a paintress I had never heard of until now and wanted to share this gem with whoever happens to stumble on my blog.

Her name is Paula Modersohn-Becker. Although she had a very short life and an even shorter career, her works are powerful and will remain etched in your mind. I'm certain they will in mine, at the very least.

This one, titled Child's Head with White, strikes me particularly. The child reminds me of a sickly baby I met and was able to nurse back to health. This was and still is the most extraordinary experience in my whole life.

I'm also partial to the one below. A depiction of motherly love, nurturing and protecting her baby. The title is Reclining Woman with Child.

It's my pleasure to share my discoveries. I hope you will enjoy it as much as I do. Neither the works nor the pictures are mine. They were found online and I linked the titles to the source. If you are the owner of the pictures and consider their use inappropriate, please contact me. Infringing copyright is the last thing I would want to do.

Adversity

There are about 24 hours between these two pictures:

What can be worse than extreme poverty? Bad weather didn't allow my neighbour any respite.

A sobering lesson in relativity for me who have been crying murder because of the shoddy building of my apartment which was soaked with rainwater with all doors and windows shut.

Documenting extreme poverty

A few weeks ago, I posted a picture on Facebook with a caption saying "You say you're poor. What about him?". It shows a makeshift dwelling abutting on a fencewall, just opposite the apartment building where I currently live.

A couple of days ago, I noticed that the owners of the fenced property were preparing to do some building work. 

The shack had to go.

But not very far. Very soon I saw that something looking like foundations was being dug alongside another fence wall, about 50 meters farther on the same street.

I decided to document the effort.

How does someone who has virtually nothing manage when the place they call home is destroyed.

There was a heap of plastic bags and bedding packed alongside the opposite wall for the duration of the rebuilding. Decency prevented me from taking a picture.

Within less than 48 hours, a "new" shack was built with the bits and pieces retrieved from the previous one.

This is my neighbour's new place of abode as of this morning.

I felt it important to document extreme poverty. My wish is that in a few years we will all look at these pictures shaking our heads and wondering how it was possible at all, because we won't even remember such situations. But I'm a daydreamer.